A Good King - A Joffrey Baratheon Insert

The Hand's Tourney

I was the last to walk into the Small Council meeting chambers. Lord Stark was looking exhausted, understandable considering he had immediately been summoned to a Small Council meeting after an arduous journey.

Everyone stood up as I entered and sat down again as I sat down. After everyone had settled I spoke, "I hereby call this meeting of the Small Council to order."

"Shouldn't we wait for the King?" Asked Lord Stark.

"We'd be waiting for a very long time Lord Stark, in the 12 years I've been sitting in on these meeting my father had been present for four meetings."

Eddard took some time to consider this before nodding. "Very well then, let's begin."

Immediately after he said this, Lord Baelish spoke up about the king's declaration of the Hand's Tourney. Ned's surprise was expected. As much as I wished I could have done something about the debt issue I wasn't able to do a lot; the realm was still around about six million gold dragons in debt. As in canon, Ned refused, shouted and apologised and then it was agreed upon. With my support, the prize amounts were able to be reduced by a quarter but still, it was an unnecessary expense.

Time Skip

I had decided that I would compete in the tourney, in both the Melee and Joust competitions. It would be a good opportunity to prove myself in front of my soon to be subjects and also to gauge my combat abilities against the rest of the Knights of the realm. Naturally, mother disagreed, declaring it an unnecessary risk to my wellbeing. I told her to fuck off and so on the day of the joust with most of the Lords and all of the smallfolk cheering me on, I rode out to meet my first opponent: some unknown Frey. It took just one round and he was flying off his horse and onto the ground. Three more people followed and now it was time for the quarterfinals...

I lined up against Renly Baratheon. My Uncle, we weren't particularly close; I found him quite inept as a council member and was still slightly concerned that Loras would convince him to rebel against me. Though I shouldn't be too worried, after all, I doubt Stannis would rebel with no proof of my bastard heritage, so it would be the entire realm against the Reach and Stormlands: a hard fight sure, but my money would be on the Crown.

As the horn sounded we both charged, pushing our horses to the limit, hoping that we could finish the other off quickly, to save our energy for the next round. It didn't work however as we both stayed on our horses, our lances not connecting fully.

As we lined up again I re-adjusted my grip on my lance, i tensed all my muscles and kicked my horse in the side. Time seemed to slow as we got nearer to each other and then bang! My lance hit my uncle directly in the chest and he fell back and landed with a thud. Into the semi- finals I go.

Jaime Lannister was my opponent, my true father. He was more than likely on orders from Cersei to not harm me so I was easily going to win this battle. It was a shame really, I would have liked to see how we matched up...

After six tilts I revoked my previous statement. Either Cersei hadn't said anything or he had blatantly ignored her. I was lucky I was still in the fight as I was almost knocked off the first time due to my presumption. Either way I was still in it and after three more tilts with my muscles screaming in protest, my ribs bruised and battered, I managed to somehow knock my father off the horse.

The grand final was set: me against Ser Loras Tyrell; a knight with no true combat experience. The same could be said for me as I to had never fought in a war. Despite myself, I did favour Ser Loras in this fight; he had not had to do anything against the Mountain so he was still (relatively) fresh, while had had to tilt my lance nine times to beat Ser Lannister.

Soon we were off and with every gallop of my horse my ribs rattled, my chest heaved and my muscles screamed in agony but somehow I lasted a total of five tilts before the inevitable came and a well placed lance hit me square in the chest and I was thrown off my horse, landing flat on my back, bested by the Knight of Flowers.

Time Skip

Luckily for me there was a three day period in between the joust and the melee, reserved for the archery, which I wasn't taking part in. So by the time the melee came I had recovered slightly. As Lancel covered the bandages that Maester Pycelle had wrapped around my ribs just an hour ago, I contemplated my opponents. The Mountain would be the toughest. The thought of fighting him was unnerving. He was definitely going to be the biggest challenge (both Ser Jaime and Ser Barristan were on guard duty.)

The arena was full. I couldn't count how many people were about to fight each other (hopefully not to the death) to win the 15,000 gold dragons prize and for the non-knighted, a knighthood. That was my goal. I lowered the visor on my helmet and readied myself, Midnight stamped his legs impatiently. He was my favourite horse (out of the six I own, I did use to be a jockey after all) it was a gift from Ser Barristan. His coat was as black as night, yet sparkled in the sun. At fourteen years of age he was hardly old and was in his prime, he was my designated War Horse -not that I had ever gone to war.-

I was shaken out of my internal thoughts by the shouting of my father, ever the composed, he yelled at us to get started, so we did...

I immediately charged towards some unknown knight, and after some clashing of swords I deftly knocked his sword out of his grasp. He yielded immediately afterwards.

I next happened upon another combatant, a hedge knight by the looks of it, and he followed the path of my previous foe.

The cycle continued for a while before I faced a real threat. I recognised him as one of Lord Stark's retinue. He was quite talented and put up a good fight before I managed to lure him into attacking my right side before jumping off of Midnight, spinning and raising my sword to his throat.

"I yield." He said, through gritted teeth.

I was immediately back in it, someone attacking me from behind, trying to capitalise on my lack of attention. Luckily, I managed to hold them off long enough to be able to get myself back together. I didn't know who they were but the blond hair and green eyes suggested some branch of the Lannister family. He was pretty good but I outskilled him in the end managing to force him to yield by tripping him over.

As he yielded the crowd went crazy and after turning around I realised why; there was only me and the Mountain left...

He sneered at me as we circled around each other and I tried to hide my shuddering breath. Obviously it didn't work as he smirked evilly.

We continued to circle each other for a few moments before he charged at me, screaming the entire way, I just about got my sword up to stop him from cleanly slicing my head from my neck.

Shockwaves ran through my arm, and I grunted in pain. I gritted my teeth as I tried to hold him off but he managed to push back - my sword flying through the air, almost in slow motion before hitting the ground, dust rising into the air from impact.-

Fear was the primary emotion that coursed through my veins as I frantically dodged the swings, edged backwards towards my sword. As I once again dodged, I rapidly knelt down and through sand into his face, knowing it would anger him I rolled sideways and raised my sword, only just raising it in time to block his swinging sword. I desperately shuffled back, unaware that I was getting ever closer to the wall of the arena.

"Fuck" I swore as I felt my back hit the cool wooden wall. I saw the Mountain raise his shield. I felt the tension in the crowd as the held their breath. And I saw the shield coming back towards my face.

And then darkness consume me...

A/N

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