I had woken up early to sneak down to the training grounds unseen. After my encounter with Lord Baelish, I was hesitant about being seen by one of his spies. Cersei already despised me and if she found out about my little "hobby" it might not bode well for me. I wasn't sure if Baelish was on my side, but one could never to be too careful.
Hopefully training would take my mind off things. I hadn't seen Joffrey do anything tyrannical yet, but I refused to let my guard down. I decided to start off my training with swordplay. Practicing swordplay is difficult with no one to spar with, but maybe I could convince a knight.
Coincidentally there was a knight practicing. Thankful for the darkness to hide my face, I lowered my voice and called out, "Good Ser! Would you care for a bit of swordplay? It's more helpful hitting at a living person than a sack of straw, aye?"
The man turned. From the light of a torch I could make out chiseled features and a set jawline. A shining gold lion on the pommel showed it to be none other than Jaime Lannister. "I'll spar with you, if you're not afraid to hit a Lannister!"
Jaime advanced faster than I'd expected. He went for my leg, barely grazing it before I could block the strike. He was proving quite the challenge and it was going to take a lot to beat him. I couldn't risk him finding out my identity.
I moved closer to him, thrusting toward his stomach. He parried every blow. It was beginning to look like he had the upper hand. I refused to be beaten so easily. He came at me again and our swords locked together. I threw my weight against him, knocking us both to the ground.
I rolled to my feet and got in position. "That was a dirty move," Jaime remarked, wiping blood from his lip. "Clever, but dirty." He swung at me with more power this time. I ducked and watched as the power of his swing took him off balance. I got behind him and hit him hard in the back with the flat side of my sword. As he went down, I flipped my sword around and knocked Jaime Lannister in the head with my pommel. He lost consciousness, and I dragged him off to a haystack all the while praying to the gods that he would not remember this tomorrow.
My body ached from lack of practice. I put my sword away for the night and moved to throwing daggers. For the first few tries the knives bounced off the target and into the dust. I remembered what Ned Stark once told me - "Aim small, miss small." I launched another dagger at the target. This time it found its mark. Soon one after another were filling the center of the target.
As my ninth dagger hit the center with a satisfying whump, I heard light clapping behind me. I whirled around and threw a dagger towards the sound.
"Oh my," came a soft, male voice. "Trying to kill quite possibly your only friend in King's Landing seems an unwise choice."
"Show yourself!" I demanded.
"Well I'd like to," he sighed. "But your dagger has pinned my cloak to the wall and I'd rather not disrobe in front of the future queen of Westeros."
I stepped forward to get a better view of the man. He was bald and plump and dressed in a gaudy yellow color. "How did you know who I am?"
"Littlefinger isn't the only one with spies in the castle. I am Varys, advisor to King Joffrey. You intrigue me, my lady. Why is it you're out in the cold, dark night throwing daggers at hay and knocking out the King's uncle?"
I yanked the dagger from his cloak and proceeded to collect the rest of my weapons. "I suppose if I don't tell you, you'll run straight to the Queen Regent and tell her what you've seen?" I waved a dagger in his face.
He opened his hands in surrender. "No, no I'm merely curious. The only lady I've seen handle Ser Jaime like that is Brienne of Tarth and you are much smaller than she."
I got directly in Varys' face. "I am Isabel Tyrell of House Tyrell, I have fought battles, I have killed, I have bled, I bear scars. I will fight for myself and my family. I will not surrender to a meaningless life as a submissive wife. You do not threaten me. You would be a valuable friend, Lord Varys. Do not put our friendship in jeopardy. Am I clear?"
He nodded and slunk into the shadows. I stalked back to my room with my weapons strapped to my back, side, thigh, and in my hand.
I noticed guards posted in strategic positions around my room. I wrapped my weapons in my cloak and opened my door. Joffrey was sitting on my bed waiting for me.
"Your Grace," I curtsied. Joffrey stood and started circling me like a lion.
"Now, why was my lady out in the dark at this time of night? Wait - don't answer. I already know." He yanked the cloak from my hands and my weapons clattered onto the floor. "What's this?" He gasped dramatically. "My lady is in possession of these deadly objects meant for knights? But my lady is not a knight."
My betrothed picked up my bow and knocked an arrow. He pointed it at me and pulled the string back. A laugh escaped his lips as he released. The arrow slammed into my thigh and I stumbled but held my ground. I threw my head back and laughed at him.
Joffrey continued his circling. "You certainly are a wonder, Isabel." He plucked the arrow from my thigh and blood began to flow down my leg. The brat missed the main artery, lucky for me. I smirked at him.
"Your Grace is a wonder as well. I've never known a king to shoot his betrothed in the leg. Well done! You are so brave and daring." I ran my hand down his arm the way I'd seen whores do to soldiers before dragging them off to their tent. "Might we have a seat?" I gently tugged his arm to sit on the bed.
"You handled that bow spectacularly, Your Grace!" I tried my hardest to flatter him, but the blood staining my night dress was making it hard to focus. My head began to spin and I collapsed onto the bed.
"Flattery will get you far in court," Joffrey repeated his statement from our first meeting. "Now, let's get this wound cleaned, shall we?" I did not want that monster anywhere near me.
Joffrey ripped one of the sheets off the bed. It seemed as though he had no qualms about pulling my dress up to my thigh. He saw the hidden dagger and smirked. "Certainly a wonder," he murmured. His hands brushed against my skin as he wrapped the fabric around my leg. My emotions were a mess. He just shot me with a goddamn arrow but here he is cleaning the wound?
"That should do it. Now I believe it is time we get to know each other better." Joffrey pulled my dress back down and wrapped an arm around my waist. "I'm Joffrey Baratheon, King of the Seven Realms. I enjoy hunting and being king. Your turn."
"My name is Isabel Tyrell, future Queen to King Joffrey of Westeros," I lightly laid my hand on his. "and I enjoy helping people and protecting the ones I love."
"I am delighted to be your king," Joffrey smiled. "Have you ever been shot with an arrow before this night?" He laughed. I was irked by the fact that he was joking about shooting his future wife with an arrow.
"I have wounded and been wounded." I left it at that. A strange look crossed his features. I thought I caught a glimpse of...remorse? No, it couldn't be. Monsters don't know that emotion. I shook myself out of my reverie to feel his lips on my cheek. My entire body froze.
"I look forward to marrying you, Isabel." Said the King. Before I could bring myself to move, he was gone.
