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Taliya watched as a sickening smirk appeared on the young King's lips. She despised that boy in everyway imaginable.
"Everyone, silence!" the young King called, "there's been too much amusement here today and a royal wedding is not an amusement, a royal wedding is history," he explained, "and the time has come for us all to contemplate our history,
"Jaime," Taliya spoke as she gripped ahold of her brother's armour clad arm, "what has he done?" she added as she watched the lion's mouth open and watched a group of five or so dwarfs run out to the cheer of the crowd,
"seven Gods," Jaime swore under his breath as he looked down to Taliya before looking back to the shamble in front of him,
"that boy is truly vile," she whispered back to him because even Jaime with both his hands would not be able to protect her from the wrath of their repugnant nephew.
The dwarves danced and they fought all for the pleasure of the young King. People were laughing, this was entertainment for them. But it wasn't.
"well fought, well fought," the young King called as the five dwarfs bowed in front of him, "and here you are, the champions purse," he added as he held up the deep red bag of golden coins, "though you're not the champion yet, are you?" Joffrey scowled as he turned towards Tyrion,
"what is he doing?" Taliya asked as she looked up to her brother as she stood beside him,
"I'm sure we're about to find out," Jaime sighed looking down to her before looking back to the King.
The five dwarves ran out of the lion's mouth upon there pretend steeds. They danced and then fought and they disgraced the honour of the four men. The people laughed and cheered as this was entertainment for them. But, it wasn't and it was not going to get any better either.
"Well fought, well fought," Joffrey called out to the dwarf version of himself, "here you are, the champion's purse!" he called holding up the deep red bag full of golden coins, "though you're not the champion yet," he added, "a true champion defeats all the challengers," Joffrey continued as everyone sat in complete silence waiting on his every word, "surly there are others out there who still dare to challenge my rein," he said, "uncle!"
"Jaime, I don't like this,"
"neither," he said biting down on his lip,
"how about you?" Joffrey called as he looked to his uncle, "I'm sure they have a spare costume," the King said as he received nothing but silence from everyone around him.
Tyrion smiled to himself before standing up and pushing his chair back as he did. "One taste of combat was enough for me, your Grace," Tyrion began as he replied to his nephew, "I would like to keep what remains of my face, I think you should fight him," he added as he received a few laughs from the crowd, "this was but a poor imitation of your bravery on the field of battle and I speak as a first hand witness," Tyrion taunted, "climb down from the high table with your new Valyrian sword and show everyone how a true King wins his throne,"
"Jaime, I don't like this," Taliya said looking to her brother, "this isn't ending well,"
"I know," he replied, "I can't leave Tyrion though,"
"Be careful, though. This one is clearly mad with lust," Tyrion said with a small grin on his lips, "it would be a tragedy for the king to lose his virtue hours before his wedding night," he added as Joffrey walked over to where his uncle was standing before slowing pouring his wine over Tyrion, "a fine vintage!" Tyrion called as he tried to play the situation out, "it's a shame that it spilt,"
"it did not spill," Joffrey spat,
"my love, come back to me," Margaery called as she tried to diffuse the tension, "it's time for my father's toast,"
"Jaime," Taliya said gritting her teeth as she held his arm tighter,
"well, how does he expect me to toast without wine?" Joffrey asked as he walked back to his young and beautiful bride, "uncle!" he called turning back to Tyrion, "you can be my cupbearer seeing as you're too cowardly to fight,"
"your Grace, it does me great honour," Tyrion replied,
"it's not meant as an honor," Joffrey spat, "bring me my goblet," he ordered as Tyrion did just that and brought him his goblet, "what good is an empty cup? Fill it," the young King insisted,
"look, the pie," Margaery called as she tried to shift the attention away from the situation as he servants brought out the pigeon pie. Joffrey smiled smugly before taking his new sword and swinging it at the pie to the amusement of the crowd. Margaery then began feeding the King the pie.
"Uncle?" Joffrey called as he saw his uncle and Lady Sansa start leaving, "where are you going? You're my cupbearer, remember?"
"I thought I might change out of these wet clothes, Your Grace," Tyrion explained,
"no, you're perfect the way you are," the young King replied, serve me my wine, this pie is dry, needs washing down," Joffrey said as he drunk from his goblet that Tyrion had just handed him,
"if it please, your Grace, Lady Sansa is very tired," Tyrion said as he tried again to leave,
"no, you'll wait here un--" Joffrey began before beginning to clutch at his neck,
"your Grace?"
"it's nothing," Joffrey managed to spit out,
"he's choking!" Lady Olenna called, "help the poor boy," she added, "idiots, help your king.
Joffrey's face twisted and turned in the most agonising way possible. His face turned the gruesomest shade of purple imaginable and his eyes, that was the first time Taliya had ever seen fear, true fear, in them. It was truly an awful and unfortunate way to die even for such a despised and loathsome boy.
"My son," Cersei wept as she held her dying son.
Taliya had that feeling in her gut that something did not sit right and she was ever so, unfortunately, right. She did not want to be wrong about something so much ever in her life, but she was.
