The bells of the Red Keep tolled dramatically as Robb's royal party made their way from the Red Keep to the open courtyard in the center of town, a cobblestone square in front of the Guildhall of the Alchemists. Stark banners flew on standards held by his guards and in the hands of the citizens of King's Landing who cheered for Robb for saving them from Joffrey. The blonde boy was in shackles and being forcibly marched through the streets in full view of everyone. Robb said nothing as the citizens pelted Joffrey with stones, rotten food and anything they could lay their hands on. From Sansa's account Joffrey had done the same to their father. Sansa herself rode beside Robb, looking pale as they reached the square and a block of wood was placed upon the platform where the town crier usually stood.
"KILL HIM!" chanted the crowds as Joffrey was forced up onto the platform in chains, struggling and yelling at the Northmen who held him, before being struck in the face by Robin Flint. Joffrey cried out as his nose broke and blood poured down his face. Robb remained by the horses for a moment, before sharing a glance with Margaery and Sansa who both nodded their encouragement. Robb walked forward, dressed in his armor and his crown in place atop his head to be followed by Olyvar Frey, Robb's squire who had remained loyal to the King despite knowing that Robb would break his oaths to Olyvar's family. Olyvar carried in his hands Ice, the ancestral greatsword of House Stark that had been found appropriated by Joffrey in the Royal Armory and was now returned to its rightful owners.
The Royal Party included Sansa, Margaery, her brothers Loras and Garlan, Olenna and Mace Tyrell, Robb's personal guard of young Northern nobles and Lord Randyll Tarly. They took audience before the platform as Lord Randyll's men secured a perimeter to allow the smallfolk to crowd behind the party safely.
Joffrey finally looked fearful as Robb stepped up to join Joffrey and the two men holding him on the platform. Robb had only a cold glare for the inbred son of Cersei and Jamie Lannister.
"Do you have any final words, Joffrey?" Robb asked as he removed his cloak from around his shoulders, letting the heavy material fall to the ground in a pool of grey and silver. Robb's newly forged armor, a gift from the Tyrells was of finely smithed black steel. Save for a fierce direwolf's head that was embossed on his chest plate, Robb's armor was elegantly simple and practical.
"I-I…I-…Please-…I don't want to die. I'm sorry! I'M SORRY! PLEASE, STARK! I DON'T WANT TO DIE. I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I'M SORRY!" Joffrey screamed in a high-pitched voice, only to receive boos and jeers from the crowd who laughed at him.
"Neither did my father, or the butcher's boy you had Sandor Clegane cut down. Nor did the bastards Robert Baratheon sired. You have murdered many, and caused Westeros nothing but pain and strife. You have no claim to the Iron Throne as my father Lord Eddard Stark had declared! You called him traitor and took his head. I call you bastard of incest between Cersei and Jamie Lannister. For your crimes against Westeros, I sentence you to death. Kneel." Robb commanded, only for Joffrey to struggle violently. One of the guards roughly shoved the blonde to his knees while the other forced Joffrey to bend over and place his neck on the block. The Golden Lion screamed and struggled as the Young Wolf unsheathed his father's magnificent sword from its ancient scabbard, the singing of steel was so quiet, but it was enough to silence the entire crowd and Joffrey.
The false monarch widened his eyes at the very sword he had ordered Ned Stark's death with and committed an act that would the realm would forever remember him for; he began to weep and wet himself.
"Gods be good! He's pissin' himself everywhere!" one of the guards yelled in disgust, causing the crowd of people to laugh at Joffrey's expense.
"Let's get this done quick before he browns himself as well." Robb commented wryly, before lifting Ice for only the third time in his life. Robb took a step back and swung the mighty sword of the Kings of Winter through the air to slice the head of Joffrey Baratheon clean off. Joffrey's scream was instantly silenced as his head rolled off the platform and close to the feet of Sansa Stark who stared at it for a long, long moment before her eyes began to well with tears of relief. Her tormentor was dead. Her own brother had delivered her Joffrey's head as she had prayed he would. Robb himself was panting, his heart racing from having just avenged his father. He turned to face the crowd as they began to cheer and the bells tolled once more.
Joffrey's headless body was dragged from the platform and uncaringly tossed into a box for burial. His head was to be stuck on a pike on the walls of the Red Keep until there was nothing but bone.
Robb's nerves were ragged, but it did not show as he climbed down the steps of the platform to join Margaery and Sansa who both respectively held him for a moment. The Royal Party then ventured to the Great Sept of Baelor where they would be splitting ways. Robb and his personal guard and soldiers would go to the Lion Gate to take the Goldroad to Lannisport and face the last of the Lannister army and regroup with the Northmen and Riverlords. Sansa, Margaery and her family would be taking two thousand men back to Highgarden via the Roseroad and the half-destroyed Mud Gate. Lord Mace would continue to raise a reserve force in the Reach for any situation that might arise. It was here that Robb exchanged yet another goodbye with his betrothed and his sister.
"Be good." Robb said to Sansa who nodded slightly, grieving still for her baby brothers before she hugged Robb as best as he could with his armor on.
"Be safe, Robb. Please." Sansa said quietly into his ear, before letting go of her brother to smile at Margaery and return to her horse. Margaery herself gave Robb a look that was crossed between worry and admiration.
"You remember what I said?" she asked him as they held each other's hands for a moment.
"I will do better." He promised her, before leaning in to chastely kiss her.
"And then I will return to make you Queen Margaery Stark." Robb said, causing Margaery to smile slightly as she placed a nimble hand on the side of his bearded face.
"Go on, you. Win this war." She said, pressing a small lilac scarf into his hand.
"A favor from your lady for good luck." She said, causing Robb to chuckle and thank her.
With that, the two parties split. Robb and his guard joined the massive column of men that marched steadily down the Goldroad for Lannisport.
Author's Note: Thank you all for the feedback, do keep it coming :)
This was fun, but I still quite enjoyed the Purple Wedding...