Game of Thrones - Surviving Kings Landing

The Winners, Losers, and A Few Confused Players

Squeezing her hand, I turned to watch the vast wooden doors open to reveal Tywin Lannister astride, a white horse dressed in his trademark Lannister armor. A silence encompassed the room as the patriarch of House Lannister rode toward the throne. "I, Joffrey of the House Baratheon. First of my name, the rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm." Lord Tywin's horse stopped as Joffrey stated, "proclaim my grandfather, Tywin Lannister, the city's savior, and the King's Hand." In an action steeped in tradition, the boy King tossed the emblem of the Hand of the King at a page bog. Surprised, the man caught the pin using only the red and gold pillow. He then quickly proceeded down the stairs leading to the Iron Throne toward Lord Lannister. Stopping beside the vast horse, he held the pillow aloft. Lord Tywin picked up his pin and bowed his head to Joffrey, saying, "thank you, your Grace." Joffrey smirked unamused while his grandsire urged his horse back toward the double doors.

Ignoring the older Lannister's gaze, I was surprised to hear Joffrey call Littlefinger forward. The pleasure sealer stepped forward and kneeled. "For your good service and ingenuity in uniting the Houses of Lannister and Tyrell. I declare that you shall be granted the castle of Harrenhal." Sansa stiffened beside me. Ignoring the murmurs, I squeezed her hand as Joffrey uttered, "with all its attendant lands and incomes. To be held by your sons and grandsons from this day until the end of time." Littlefinger lifted his head with a laughing smile and said, "you honor me beyond words, your Grace." Standing, he continued to say, "I shall have to acquire some sons and grandsons," drawing spurts of laughter as he returned to his place beside a silent Margaery Tyrell.

As the awkward laughs died away, Joffrey called Loras forward. Dressed in his clanking armor, he brushed past Margaery and kneeled. Joffrey awkwardly stared at his sister, saying, "your house has come to our aid. The whole realm is in your debt, none more so than I. If your family would ask anything of me, ask it, and it shall be yours." With a moment of pause, Loras glanced at him and said, "your Grace, my sister Margaery, her husband, was taken from us before..." I watched him struggle to articulate how his lover could not perform his martial duties only to murmur, "she remains innocent." Looking away from the dubious knight, I refrained from mocking Margaery's suggestive attempt at pity. "I would ask you to find it in your heart to do us the great honor of joining our houses." Hearing his plead, I quickly squeezed Sansa's hand as Joffrey openly gazed at the crown reaching upstart from Highgarden. "Is this what you want, Lady Margaery?" Margaery stepped forward and, with a loving smile, uttered, "with all my heart, your Grace. I have come to love you from afar. Tales of your courage and wisdom have never been far from my ears. And those tales have taken root deep inside of me." Biting the inside of my cheek, I observed Joffrey preening at the praise sprouting from the Flower of Highgarden while some members of his assembled Small Council looked pleased, and others appeared troubled. Breathing, Joffrey courtly uttered, "I, too, have heard tales of your beauty and grace, but the tales do not do you justice, my Lady," drawing an adoring smile to the rooted rose's face. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished as Joffrey stated, "it would be an honor to return your love, but I am promised another. A king must keep his word."

Exhausted by his pandering, I was not surprised to see Cersei lean toward her child and gleefully mutter, "your Grace, in the judgment of your Small Council, it would be neither proper nor wise for you to wed the daughter of a man beheaded for treason." Sansa squeezed my hand as I thought, "I doubt your Father agrees," while she continued to say, "a girl whose brother is in open rebellion against the throne as we speak. Your councilors beg you to set Sansa Stark aside for the good of the realm." Those assembled began to whisper amongst each other as Joffrey mockingly said, "I would like to heed your wishes and the wishes of my people, but I took a holy vow." Ever the over-enthusiastic actor, Maester Pycelle stuttered, "your Grace." The Highgarden flowers eagerly watch the old man shuffle forward before saying, "the gods do indeed hold a betrothal solemn, but your Father, blessed be his memory, made this pact before the Starks revealed their falseness." I nearly bit my cheek when the old man said, "I have consulted with the High Septon, and he assures me that their crimes against the realm free you from any promise you have made to them in the sight of the gods." Restraining the need to argue against the man's traitorous words, Joffrey sighed before muttering, "the gods are good. I am free to heed my heart." Smirking like a loon, Joffrey leaned forward on the Iron Throne and uttered, "Ser Loras, I will gladly wed your sweet sister." The flowery knight stood moments before Joffrey said, "you will be my Queen, and I will love you from this day until my last day." Sansa and I clapped along with the other courtiers as Margaery offered what I assumed was a delighted smile.