"I think that's enough for today," Jaime said.

I was exhausted, bathing in sweat and panting like a dog, so I was inclined to agree.

"I… think… so… as… well." I replied in between deep breaths.

It took all of my remaining strength to not simply collapse on the floor like a wet paper towel. I looked up at Jaime to find that he had barely broken a sweat.

"How?" I asked, my voice ragged.

"I'm in better shape and far more skilled. But don't worry, you did well. Far better than I was expecting." he consoled me.

"I lost every single match! We've been here for hours and I didn't even come close to winning." I complained, aghast at the compliment.

"I wasn't giving it my all, obviously, but I had to work for my victories, which is more than most of my opponents can claim. As you said, I'm the best swordsman in the realm. Don't beat yourself up because you couldn't win against me on your first day of real training. You've got talent, kid." he answered, and I lit up in response.

"Thanks, uncle." I replied

"You're going to need to take a bath, and Pycelle is going to need to look at those bruises. If your mother finds out she'll have my head on a spike." he said and I nodded.

I got up and picked up my sword, groaning as I bent over, and then handed it to him. I then started the long walk back to my quarters, Jaime following behind me. We chatted for the duration of that walk about nothing of much importance.

"Same time tomorrow?" I asked him as I arrived at my room

"Tomorrow we're going to Casterly Rock, so no. But we can practise on the way." he said in response.

"Oh, yeah, forgot about that. That seems like a good idea." I answered

I found Ser Mandon Moore guarding my door.

"Ser Mandon, can you tell the servants to run me a bath?" I asked.

"Yes, Your Grace." he said and I opened the door and went in. I took a few steps before collapsing on the cool stone floor and laid there on my back, thinking about nothing until, a few moments later, I heard a voice.

"Your Grace? Your bath is ready." it said

I got up and walked over to the tub before getting in, sighing deeply as I did so. After a few minutes of lounging I cleaned myself with the bar of soap, which I found out came from Dorne, while the servants tended to my hair. After it was done I got up and dried myself before getting dressed - which entailed awkwardly standing there while a group of women put on a far too elaborate outfit on me. Dinner had been prepared for me during the bath, and I ate it alone. Having been born in a culture in which the family meal was sacrosanct, it was somewhat weird to eat without anyone else at the table, but I didn't complain.

After finishing an admittedly very large meal I decided to go to the Armoury. There was still a dull pain in most of my muscles, though I was able to hide it well enough. Robert forgot about Littlefinger's dagger immediately after winning it - granted, normally that isn't a very appealing trait, but it does mean that the only such weapon in the Capital is open for the taking. Sandor followed me there and stopped outside the door.

"Come in, Sandor." I said and he grunted in assent before following me.

The armoury was well enough lit, so thankfully we didn't need to take a torch. The armoury was massive and I searched it inch by inch while Sandor followed close behind. After what felt like hours I finally saw it - a plain Valyrian steel dagger with a smooth dragonbone hilt and its sheath.

"Here it is!" I said as I picked it up.

"Can I see it?" Sandor asked and I nodded, handing it to him.

He looked mesmerised as he analysed the dagger and its rippled steel

"Do you know how to use a dagger, Sandor?" I asked, and he snorted.

"Of course I know how to use a dagger." he answered

"Good, because I don't. Keep it." I said and he raised his head up in shock.

"What?" he blurted out before realising what he did. "Sorry, Your Grace, I…"

"I'm not going to eat you, Sandor. I haven't a clue as to how to use a dagger, you do. You're also tasked with defending me. Keep the dagger. If you want to change the hilt, pommel and sheathe to better represent your house, I'll pay for it. I have a design that I think you might like." I said

"I don't know how to thank you, Your Grace." he eventually replied

"It'd be great if you could help me keep my head." I said and he laughed in response. It was deeply unpleasant, like the snarling of dogs in a pit.

We walked back to my quarters, talking as we did so and arriving soon after.

"Meet me back here in an hour. I'll have a design for you. Think if you want to reforge it." I said as I entered the room and he nodded.

I sat on my table and got some drawing supplies out. Joffrey'd gotten them as a present a while ago and never touched them, but they were there and they were of a very high quality, at least for the time. Painting was my hobby and I always considered myself quite good at it, so this wouldn't be an issue. I settled on a simple sheathe of yellow leather with three black dogs on either side, like their sigil. The hilt would remain the same - it is already dragonbone - but a black snarling hound's head would be added on the pommel with red rubies for eyes and its teeth in silver. It took a few tries and repeats as I made some mistakes getting adjusted to my new tools, but I had just finished when I heard a knock on the door.

"It's Sandor Clegane, Your Grace." The Kingsugard out front who I recognized to be Arys Oakheart by his voice said.

"Send him in, send him in." I replied as I gathered the drawings

He entered the room and I rose to greet him and presented the designs for the dagger and sheath both.

"These are good." he said.

"Excellent. We're leaving for King's Landing tomorrow, so I think it's better to wait until we come back. Tobho Mott will take care of it for you - he's the only man in the Kingdoms who knows how to rework Valyrian Steel." I replied and he nodded before leaving the room.

I went into my bedroom and found a group of servants packing my trunks. They immediately got up and curtsied when they saw me.

"I'm going to bed." I said and they nodded before getting back to packing. I was truly and utterly exhausted and so immediately undressed, put on my night clothes and went to bed, drifting to sleep soon after, it being just after sundown and not yet properly nighttime.

— — — —

I woke up sore all over with the creak of the door, the first rays of sunlight hitting my eyes. I instinctively raised my hand to protect my face as the footsteps got near.

"Joffrey!" I heard Cersei's voice, "We're going to Casterly Rock soon. If you aren't ready, we'll leave without you."

"Alright, alright. I'll get up." I said as I stretched myself awake.

I sat on the bed and rubbed my eyes but had to put on a pair of slippers and stand up before she'd leave the room. I half heartedly stood there while I was dressed for the road in an outfit that was still too much for my taste, though it was noticeably more practical than the others.

I found Sandor waiting outside, the dagger an addition to his belt, still in its old scabbard. I nodded to him and he did so back before escorting me towards the gate where the Wheelhouse and the remainder of the party was waiting. It truly deserved its name - a veritable house on wheels, I was stupefied as to how it could even travel until I saw the forty draft horses. It was true opulence - completely unnecessary, though it made the travel a bit more pleasant.

"Took you long enough." Jaime said as soon as I arrived, an arrogant smile plastered on his face.

"I have you to thank for that." I retorted, causing it to lose a bit of its intensity.

"Are you riding?" Cersei asked.

"Yes, but I want to talk with you in the Wheelhouse before." I replied

"Why?" she inquired, a bit worried

"It's better if we wait." I answered and she nodded grimly.

All of my now-immediate family clambered onto the Wheelhouse except for Jaime and, after we got moving, Cersei took me to the room that functioned as a study.

"What is it, Joffrey?" she asked, clasping my hand in both of hers.

"Jon Arryn will die when we're in Casterly Rock." I said and she opened her eyes in shock.

"What? Why? How do you know?" she demanded, bewildered.

"Jon is planning to foster Robert Arryn with Stannis Baratheon in Dragonstone." I said matter-of-factly.

"And? That doesn't mean anything." she seemed annoyed.

"I don't think you've seen how Lysa treats her son. She breastfeeds him herself." I answered

"That is queer, but it's not enough to have her kill Jon." she said.

"Present tense. The boy is six and still hasn't been weaned. She'll kill anyone and everyone if that's what it takes to keep him close to her." I retorted.

"Hmm." she said, not exactly convinced.

"Just trust me on this. Do you really think I'd lie to you about something this important?" I asked, betting on her view of Joffrey as absolutely perfect. It worked.

"You wouldn't. You're my darling boy." She said, cupping my cheek. "Anyway, what do you think we should do about this?"

"Grandfather Tywin should offer to foster Robert Arryn as soon as it happens, and you should convince Robert to agree. Can you do that?" I asked

"It'll be easy enough." she answered. "What else?"

"Send a message to Janos Slynt to not allow Lysa to leave the Capital. He's loyal to nothing but money and we have the most of it. If she does get back to the Vale, we'll lose our leverage. With Grandfather taking Robert as a ward, we'll have the Vale by the balls for at least a generation." I continued.

"That's good. What should we do with Lysa herself?" she asked, half as a test and half interested in what I had to say, if I was to guess.

"Lysa must be tried for Jon Arryn's murder and at least arrested. If she's able to go back to the Vale we lose our chance at controlling the Kingdom and it may even end up causing a war. This also helps with something else." I replied

"Oh, and what is that?" she bade me to continue.

"Lysa has been infatuated with Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin, ever since they were children in Riverrun. Littlefinger only had eyes for her older sister, Catelyn, but he did get her with child after a duel with Brandon Stark for Catelyn's hand." I explained

"Yes, I've heard the story. Why does that matter?" she questioned

"Littlefinger holds a deep resentment against Houses Stark and Tully - the former for stealing Catelyn from him, in his mind, and the latter for thinking themselves too good to marry either of the two sisters to him. He wants those two houses destroyed and plans to do that by setting them against us. I'm sure that he'll help Lysa kill her husband and then have her blame you in a letter to her sister, who just happens to be the Lady of Winterfell." I continued

"Eddard never forgave Grandfather for what happened to Rhaegar's sons, Hoster is dying and Edmure is a weakling who will do whatever his sister tells him to. If Lysa falls, she'll take him with her and we can put a loyal man - perhaps Gyles Rosby - in the position. Robert will never allow a Lannister, but there are plenty who do not wear a lion but are just as loyal." I said.

"How do you know all of this?" she asked

"You'd be surprised at how much people say in your presence when you make them think you care more about abusing small animals than politics." I replied, and she lit up in response.

"I always knew you were destined for greatness." she said with a smile

"This is the start of the game. What is it you say about it, mother?" I asked, and she smiled.

"When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground." she replied, and I raised my glass in toast.

"Here's to winning."

— — — —

Thanks for reading!

I don't think there's much to explain here lorewise, but please review.