Joffrey didn't remember how he even managed to escape Helgen.
He wandered the mountain side for days afterwards, lost and utterly alone. He did not have any weapons to hunt with, and he had almost been mauled by a bear that he had thinly escaped from.
He was on the very edge of dying when the Graybeards found him.
Lancel I
Lancel did not know what his father would make of his knighthood, if ever the man would learn of how his son had earned it. Though if he were to confess the deed to anyone, that he had fouled the king's wine so that there would be an accident on the hunt, Lancel would no doubt be hanged, drawn and quartered, no matter what his father thought.
Worse will likely happen to him by his own cousin, if she ever learned that he had confessed to done it on her orders. Though if he were to be honest with himself, it was also due to the king's harshness and sternness with him and Tyrek. But even so, Lancel had not wished for the King's death on that day in the hunt. He had only wanted the King to trip over some tree roots and humiliate himself before all. But instead, the King had died and Lancel ended up a knight.
Despite his guilt, it was hard to keep in mind the crime and sin he had committed, when the Queen had begun to let him into her bed.
"Hush," she'd say when they were making love. "It's all in the past now. Robert is dead. I ate the boar that did him in." Lancel had tried speaking on the matter again, but the Queen always despised it when he spoke at all whilst in her bed.
Then there were darker thoughts that consumed Lancel at times, thoughts of dark glee. Of how he ought to be King now as he had felled the previous one and was now taking his wife every other night. But then he remembered that for all that King Robert had been cruel and vicious with his words and criticisms, the man had never struck Lancel or slapped him. Had never told him to lie still and quiet on a bed and-
Lancel shook his head, it was not right to think of the Queen that way. She was his Patron and Mistress, as all he had he owed to her. If she wanted to take liberties in bed, to be cruel to him, then he had no right to complain about the matter.
--
"Take it down!" The King screamed as he looked up at the head of the traitor, Stark.
"…your grace?" Lancel asked unsurely.
Joffrey snapped to him, eyes sharp and burning. "Take…" The King took in a long breath, and Lancel realized that the boy's breaths had been rushed and uneven. "…down."
Then the boy collapsed. Lancel was not quick enough to catch him, as the boy shook and seized on the ground.
"Don't touch him," Bellowed the Hound, and Lancel retracted his hand like he had been burned. "Let the Maester see him first."
The Queen screamed when she came around the corner and saw the commotion. Even the Prince and Princess, often distant from the boy, wept when they saw him.
--
The King had been struck by a strange sickness. The Grandmaester could not find the reason for it, as His Grace grew paler by the hour and was utterly unresponsive.
"Get…out.." Lancel half jumped as a raspy voice came from the previously still king.
"Joffrey, my son." The Queen Mother went to the boy king's side. "You fell ill, you must rest-"
"Out!" The King commanded. There was a certain finality in his tone that made even his mother stand straight. Lancel felt like cowering away somewhere but held himself straight as well, it was not for knights to cower away, even from a King.
Grandmaester Pycelle had no such restraint, the frail old man almost running from the room with a meek 'your grace'. The Queen was pale for a moment, but Lancel quietly took her arm and escorted her out.
That night, the Queen was rather wroth in bed and Lancel was bruised. She looked rather regretful in the morning, but did not apologize, neither did he have the courage to ask her to.
--
The next day, Lancel was unexpectedly summoned to the King's solar.
"Your grace," Lancel knelt and bowed his head. He hoped that Joffrey's moods had improved from the night before.
"Ser..Lancel." The King's voice came out rather raspy and disjointed. But Lancel thought Joffrey looked rather regal as the boy motioned for him to stand up. "I…would..like…for..you…to..be..a…knight..of..my…household."
Lancel blinked, taken aback for a long moment
"It would be my honor, your grace."
--
As it turned out, being a knight in the King's own household was not an honor at all. But instead, a chore.
A really, really, boring chore.
The King would venture out into the city for most of the day, often times only accompanied by some sworn men along with Lancel and the Hound. That first day, the King visited the sight of where the Master of Coin was apparently lynched by an angry mob that stormed his brothel. Though the whores themselves claimed that a 'ghost' was responsible for the whole ordeal.
Then they went up to the defunct Dragonpit, where the King had the Gold Cloaks assembled for an inspection of their ranks. Joffrey did not seem all too impressed by the parading men, or with their Captains who heaped praise onto him.
It was then that Lancel learned what were to be the actual duties of his new office when the King handed him a rolled scroll. He inspected the thing with furrowed brows before unrolling it. Inside, he would find a beautifully written speech in rather orderly handwriting. Lancel was so impressed with the fine calligraphy that it took him a moment to realize that Joffrey was looking at him expectantly.
Oh. Lancel thought dumbly as he cleared his throat and began reading the speech aloud to the Gold Cloaks. His throat burned by the end of it, and his voice had cracked quite the embarrassing number of times. But the King was not angered by the affair, much to Lancel's own relief.
"You…did..well," The King nodded and smiled softly at him.
Lancel could only blush at the praise.
--
That first speech had not been the end of the work that day. The King left the Dragonpit and traveled to almost every part of the city.
First, he met with the city's Notaries and Justiciars, where Lancel had to read out another speech. This one less about fighting to defend the King's Peace like with the Gold Cloaks, but instead about the Notaries upholding their duties and the King's Justice.
Then, the King spoke with some of the more prominent members individually. And by 'spoke', Lancel rather means that the King would say some words but would rather write down his thoughts and have Lancel read them aloud for the men he was meeting. And it went on like that, for HOURS. It was so boring that Lancel had to pinch himself several times to keep from falling asleep or nodding off while reading.
Lancel should not complain too much though, his cousin Tyrek had it much worse than he did. The King had made him a squire to Ser Hugh, the new Captain of the King's Household Troop. In addition, Tyrek became a Royal Page and had to write down everything the King and others said during the meetings. Eventually, the King gathered all the Notaries again and announced that he would be splitting the position of Master of Law into several different offices. Belatedly, Lancel remembered that the Small Council did not even have a Master of Law at the moment since Renly Baratheon left court some months past.
Then, the King asked the assembled men to elect three from their own ranks to be the newly created office of 'Tribune'. One of those elected with near unanimous votes was a woman, much to Lancel's own shock. She was common born, like most of the Notaries, and seemed only a year or two older than him.
Lancel looked at the King and expected Joffrey to reject the woman out of hand. No such thing occurred, as the King had all three of the elected kneel before him.
"You…three…have…been…chosen…by…your…peers…for…high…offices." Joffrey nodded at the three kneeling before him. "Rise…and…be…recognized…Jon..Fletcher, Malora…Noter, and… Richard…Spurrier."
All three had trade surnames, likely their own professions or that of their fathers before them. It was not all that uncommon in the large cities and towns of Westeros, as their could be hundreds or thousands called the same name. But it was still so unheard of for the King to raise commons to his Small Council.
Joffrey then handed Lancel another rolled parchment to read out.
"In the name of King Joffrey, First of his Name. On this day in the First Moon of the Year 299 after the Conquest, I have created the new official office: Tribune of the People. Who will henceforth be elected by a gathering of their peers. The men-" Lancel blinked for a moment. "…and Women who are elected to this High Office, will henceforth be en…"
Lancel stopped completely as he looked at the King. Joffrey turned to him sharply and the king's eyes narrowed dangerously.
His heart skipped several beats and he took a deep breath before continuing. "…will henceforth be ennobled and made…Lords of my Council." Lancel took a sip of water for his parched throat. "Where upon these Tribunes will hold their elected office for a period of three years. Once this term passes, these Tribunes will return to their normal duties or may seek reelection from among their peers."
There was an uproar in the gathered crowd, and the three newly made Tribunes had turned pale at the King's proclamation.
Lancel knew that it was half treasonous, but he couldn't help but think how foolish the King was in making such a proclamation. It was simply unprecedented. Kings and Lords had established elected offices before, but never ones where the elected were ennobled. It seemed a far too dangerous proclamation to make so hastily. Especially without the King first consulting the Small Council or any member of his court for that matter. Lancel wondered if the crowd might turn mutinous, or if the Notaries might form a mob and demand that the King ennoble all of them as well. After all, these were all comm-
"Long live the King!" A Justicar in the crowd proclaimed.
"Long Live the King!" The cry was taken up immediately.
Lancel watched in bewilderment, as the crowd did not turn mutinous as he had expected, but were instead looking at the King like the boy had just hung the stars in the sky. The Baratheon men-at-arms took up the cry as well, and soon, the cry was all that could be heard in the room.
Once things had settled back down, the King had even more surprises for both the crowd and Lancel himself. The King announced the formation of 'The High Court of Justice', which the three Tribunes of the People would lead. Then he created another new office, the 'Justice of the Peace' who would serve right under the Tribunes.
Much to Lancel's horror, these new 'Justices of the Peace' were going to be elected by a mass vote from the commons and people. With King's Landing granted the right to elect as many as seven Justices, while another fourteen would be elected from other parts of the Crownlands. These Justices would hold their offices for only a year, where upon they may only run for the office again after three years have passed.
Thankfully, Joffrey was not mad enough to proclaim that all of these 'Justices' will be ennobled upon their assumption of office. Nor would he allow unwashed peasants to run for the position, only those who are already Notaries or Justiciars or were otherwise Lawmen or Headmen who had deeply studied the laws of the Kingdom. The appointment of such men remained a Royal Prerogative, though now there would be 'Law Exams' held at the Red Keep for those who wished to become lawmen.
Lancel thought that all of this was a horrible idea. It was taking away the privileges of the crown lords to preside over justice for their people, and instead giving that authority to men of the commons. It was just simply not done.
It continued for hours more after that. With the King 'speaking' about all matter of things relating to his decrees. There was a hierarchy established in the new 'High Court', with the King holding several powers and privileges he could exercise if he thought that Justice was being impeded. There were limits and rules established for the new offices, and the King highlighted the new duties everyone in the High Court would have. Down to the most minute detail. Lancel lips had dried up, and his throat became so parched that he would excuse himself for minutes at a time to drink water or wine. Or to go relieve himself.
By the time the meeting was ending, Lancel had been so utterly exhausted that Joffrey finally relieved him of his duty. In his place, the King called Malora Noter, the newly appointed 'Tribune', and asked her to be the one that reads out the King's words. The common girl, who looked to only be eight and ten namedays, shed tears when she received the honor.
Lancel only pitied her for the parched throat she was soon have.
For his final act of the day, the King appointed 21 'Provisional Justices' who would hold their offices temporarily until proper elections could be held for their replacements.
It was almost midnight when the King finally called the meeting to end. Despite the late hour, the King left the Courthouse where the meeting was held with loud cheers of:
"Long Live the King!" and "Seven Blessings." and "Hail Joffrey!"
The cheering would likely continue, and by morning, the whole city will know about the King's new laws and the 'High Court'. Joffrey's name would be cheered on the streets everyday until the king's new laws would have to be reversed.
"Your grace," Lancel tried on their way back to the Red Keep. "These new reforms are ill thought; you give far too much power to those commons. At this rate, the crown lords may rise up against you."
"Let…them." Joffrey said coldly, and Lancel could only flinch.
At least the King had not thought to implement these new laws in all of the Seven Kingdoms, only extending the high court's authority over the Crownlands. It could prove utterly ruinous for the Crown if the Kingdoms refuse to follow through with the laws, since at least with the Crownlands being nearby, the King could more easily enforce his will.
Still, if the King could not be convinced by Lancel's words, then the matter will have to wait until Lord Tywin defeated the Starks in battle, where upon he would return to the capital and implement some actually sensible policies.
--
They arrived so late to the Red Keep, that the usual time he spent in the Queen's bed had long since passed. And he had been so tired by the days events, that he would not even be able to serve the Queen if she were to call upon him
Something he was rather thankful for.
--
The next morning, the Queen summoned him to the Small Council and Lancel spent the time heading to the chamber rather puzzled about what she could possibly want.
"I am appointing Ser Lancel Lannister," the Queen smiled widely. "To replace Janos Slynt as Commander of the City Watch."
Lancel's stomach dropped, and he felt the blood drain from his face. He tried to protest but could not get a single word out.
"No." Came a quiet voice. And Lancel turned to see the King entering.
"Dearheart," Came the Queen's rather condescending tone. "This is for the good of-"
"Ser…Lancel…is..grossly…unqualified." Lancel didn't know if he should be relived or insulted. "Jacelyn…Bywater…will…be…the…new…commander."
Lord Varys spoke up in praise for Bywater, and while Grandmaester Pycelle and the Queen protested, the King ended up having his way.
Lancel breathed a sigh of relief. Slynt had been killed by a mob, the same as Baelish. He did not wish for that fate on himself.
--
The Queen gave him several signed death warrants to give to Commander Bywater, and Lancel went to find the newly appointed commander.
Only he was intercepted by the King himself who seized the warrants.
"But, Your Grace," Lancel protested. "Those are…"
The King was suddenly glaring at him and Lancel found himself out of breath.
"Tell…the…Queen," Joffrey said to him slowly. "That…you..have…fulfilled…your…mission."
"Y-yes, Your Grace." Lancel stuttered out.
He went to do as he was bid.
--
The warrants, as it turns out, were for the deaths of King Robert's bastards. And Lancel found himself dragged on his knees before the King by two Baratheon men.
"I had nothing to do with it, Your Grace!" Lancel begged. "I only did as I was bid."
Ser Ilyn Payne had been in the room, and Lancel was so afraid of the man he would have fainted if he ever came withing a foot of him.
But the King believed Lancel, and so Ser Ilyn was not to be needed.
--
"I must protest this, Your Grace." Lancel said.
There was a whore, standing in one of the side entrances of the Red Keep. She carried a babe straddled in her arms, Bara, so named after the bastard girl's sire.
"The Queen-"
The King turned on him quickly. "You…will…not…utter..a..word…of..this…to…anyone."
Lancel nodded, his protests were ignored and the whore was given room and quarter in the Red Keep.
--
The whore, who Lancel realized was only a girl of five and ten, was kept secret and stayed in the Red Keep.
At least she remained a secret for several days, when one day Lancel had been going to check on them, as per his orders, where upon he saw Grandmaetser Pycell spying the girl and her daughter.
--
"Kill them!" The Queen screamed.
The Kingsguard had drawn their swords and made their way to the whore and her daughter were. Then, dozens of men in Baratheon livery were there, swords drawn and shields up.
"Traitors!" The Queen called. "Kill them all!"
But the Kingsguard were outnumbered, and so there was a stalemate. The Queen turned and sent a Page to summon the Red Cloaks.
Lancel ran as fast as his legs could carry him.
--
He found the king having just returned to the Red Keep.
"There is a great disturbance at court, Your Grace." Lancel puffed out between labored breaths. "The Queen…"
"Stop!" It was a single word, the only thing the King said as he entered the throne room. But the entire room became as silent as the grave the instant they heard it.
The King went to stand in front of his half-sister, and the girl's mother.
"You.would.dare.draw.your.blades.on.my.kin?!" Joffrey half screamed, half spit at the three Kingsguard before him.
All three knights seemed to reel back in terror.
Ser Boros fell on his back side, and from what Lancel could see, the man had even soiled himself. Ser Meryn dropped his sword on the ground and took a few steps back in fear. Only Ser Mandon remained cool, calmly sheathing his blade and going to one knee before the King.
"You..three…will…discard…your…white..cloaks." The King ordered.
For a long moment, the whole court was silent at the words, and of the three White Knights, only Ser Mandon quickly obeyed the command as the man unclasped the cloak from his shoulder.
"Pray why, Your Grace?" Ser Meryn asked, almost too quiet for anyone to hear.
"On…the…morrow." The king said. "You'd…have…donned…black…ones."
"Out…of…my…sight!"
Ser Mandon only nodded and calmly left the room. His two brothers scrambled to get off their cloaks and follow after him.
The King's hands were shaking, his breaths were rapid and panicked. And it seemed like the boy might again collapse to a shaking fit on the ground. Some of the Baratheon men-at-arms had quietly escorted Bara and her mother out of the room at a gesture from Ser Hugh.
The Hound then stepped forward and collected the white cloaks his former brothers had discarded. But all Lancel could watch was Joffrey, who he feared might collapse again at any moment.
But the King did not falter, instead he turned and was soon ascending the steps of the Iron Throne. When he sat there, for the first time since his sickness, Lancel thought that he truly looked like a King. Joffrey took a few moments simply sitting there, eyes closed, as the boy slowed down his breaths. Then the King took out some quill and parchment from his belt.
"Ser…Lancel."
Lancel walked up the steps of the Iron Throne and waited besides Joffrey as the boy continued to write. The entire court room was silent, not even a hint of a sound could be heard. Then, the King finally finished writing and handed Lancel the decree.
He made his way back down the steps, unclearing his throat before reading out the letter.
"I, Joffrey, First of my Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms declare that from this day forth, I will be assuming my rightful title as Protector of the Realm."
The court seemed to finally find its voice as quiet whispers began from all around.
"Neither will I any longer accept to have a Regent rule in my place, and, I, will be further assuming all power over my throne."
"You cannot!" The Queen cried out in outrage.
Lancel continued. "Furthermore, I will be dismissing my gentle mother, The Queen Dowager, so that she may enjoy some quiet time for herself at Rosby Castle. Where she will stay, guarded and well cared for."
The Queen tried again. "You can't just-"
"So says your King."
It was the Queen's own Red Cloaks who ended up half dragging, half carrying the screaming woman out of court. The Queen threatened them, slapped them, screamed at them, and Lancel even heard her beg them. But they followed the King's command.
Lancel knew that the Queen would hate him for this, likely seeing it as a betrayal.
Not that it mattered. Lancel would be dead before the sunset.
--
He stayed in bed for the rest of the day, refusing to see or speak to anyone.
But when evening finally came and no guards had come to drag him from his chambers, Lancel used whatever bravery he had to venture from his rooms.
--
It was almost a relief to find Grandmaester Pycell.
Or at least, find the man's head. Placed on a spike.
--
Lancel might live yet.