The day went by faster than I had imagined it would.
My coronation was a surprisingly humdrum affair. The people assembled in the throne room, the High Septon blessed my rule and so on. The event dragged on in pomp and circumstance, and I took the time to acclimatise myself to those around me.
Looking around, some bore a resemblance to those I had seen on-screen, though not one was a perfect match. Margaery was closest, but with many differences in her likeness that led me to believe that this was not the show universe. Conversely, not everyone matched the description given in the books either, leading me to the conclusion that this world was something of a mash-up of the two.
That had interesting implications for my future plans, depending on what was what, but I filed it away for the moment.
The coronation ceremony drew to a close with thunderous applause, echoing off the walls of the throne-room, and I seated myself atop the monstrosity that was the Iron Throne, with jagged edges all over, and bladed steps leading up to the actual throne part. I could only seat myself in a few positions lest I cut myself, which I am pleased to report I did not.
The evening passed, and I was soon shown to my bedchambers to spend the night, where I had the pleasure of stumbling upon a furry and affectionate tom, presumably Ser Pounce. I lay down, and attempted to fall to sleep, knowing I would have a long day ahead. Before I could, the sound of soft footfalls could be heard, and Margaery emerged from the shadows, walking to my bed, and I felt the need to question her, "How did you get past the Kingsguard?"
Even as the words left my mouth, I knew the answer. Either she bribed one of the more ineffective members, or Loras was guarding me tonight. Either way, caution was advised. She brushed my question aside, almost mockingly, "The Kingsguard."
I narrowed my eyes at her, "Your brother, then, Ser Loras?" She had an odd look on her face, and I continued, "In any case, I don't think you're supposed to be here. I'm not allowed visitors at night. My mother would not be pleased."
She lit the candle on the bedside table, seemingly unaware that the cut of her dress showed off her cleavage as she did so, "I'm not a visitor, Your Grace. Word has it, I'm to be your bride." She looked at me once she was done with the candle, taking a seat at the side of my bed, "Did you know that people in arranged marriages often never meet until their wedding day? Before we decide to spend our lives together, we ought to get to know one another, don't you think?"
"I'm aware. But a late-night visit hardly looks good, and if my mother or grandfather found ou-"
She cut me off, "It can be our secret, hmm? If we're going to be man and wife, we'll have a few secrets from them, I hope." She smiled at me, "So, Your Grace, tell me a secret."
"You first."
Margaery wound up to answer, and was saved from doing so as Ser Pounce leapt up into my bed, "Hello, aren't you a proper fellow?"
I couldn't help the childish grin on my face, "That's Ser Pounce, the bravest knight in all the Seven Kingdoms. Some even say he is the one in the prophecy, Azor Ahai born again, come to save mankind from the Long Night."
Margaery humoured me, "Most gallant, I can see, and very handsome."
I looked her in the eyes, "Joffrey didn't best like him. He threatened to skin him alive and mix his innards in with my food."
Margaery seemed genuinely sympathetic, "That's very cruel." She looked at me as if she were appraising me, "You don't strike me as cruel."
"Well, I hope I'm not."
She nodded sagely, "That's a relief, because you know what happens when we marry."
"My grandfather walked me through it. We say our vows before the High Septon, and afterwards we-"
She chuckled, cutting me off in the process, "When we marry I become yours... forever."
I offered her a hard stare, "Whose does that make you, then? Renly's, Joffrey's or mine? Because if that's what happens when we marry, then I don't believe it, and I don't think you do either."
"And what do you think happens when we wed?"
I offered her a smile, "You become my wife, and if I live long enough, the mother of my children. The realm gains stability, and both of our houses a useful alliance. We may even fall in love, but I have also been told that is more often than not a fantasy."
She seemed genuinely saddened, "You mustn't say that, Your Grace."
I feigned a sigh, "I can only hope."
She lingered for a moment, seemingly uncomfortable, but them made to leave, speaking to me in a whisper, "It's getting late, I should go. May I come and visit you again?"
I nodded, "In the day, no more night visits till we are wed. I'll not start my reign by risking the spread of rumours of impropriety."
She gave a breath of laughter, her tone suddenly becoming coy, "Alright then, but I hope you'll grant me one small impropriety." She leaned in, and offered me a tender kiss on the lips. It lingered for a while, and when it was done, her head hovered just above mine, her tone now serious, "Remember, our little secret."
I nodded, and she left. Sleep struggled to come after that, though eventually I exhausted myself by my tossing and turning, and the morning sun streaming into my chambers woke me back up. The servants came in, running my bath and insisting on dressing me, which I allowed them to do, if only to avoid seeming strange. Afterwards, I called for my uncle Jaime. He came up, clad in his Kingsguard armour, and kneeled before me, "Your Grace."
"I may be King now, but you are still my uncle. When in private, you don't have to kneel."
He rose from his knee, "Yes, Your Grace."
"I want you by my side today, understood?"
He nodded, although reluctantly, "Of course, Your Grace."
I adopted the closest thing to a commanding tone that my cracking voice could offer, "Before we leave, I want to make one thing clear. The things you hear in my presence, are to be treated as most secret. You will not so much as breathe a word to grandfather, to mother, to anyone. Am I understood?"
Jaime looked mighty confused, but nodded regardless, "... Of course, Your Grace."
With that settled, we departed from my chambers, making for one of the terraces in the keep, where I sent for Bronn, "You are Bronn?"
"That's me." He looked me up and down, "So, what do you want with me?"
"I understand you are in the employ of my uncle, Tyrion Lannister?"
His eyes darted to Jaime, whose teeth were clenched at the mention of his brother, and then to the crown on my head, "Was. Not anymore."
"So, you're seeking employment?"
He shrugged, "I s'pose I am."
I nodded, "Good. I find myself in need of men like you, and would much like to procure your services. I'll offer the same rate my uncle offered before his incarceration."
Bronn was now in business mode, "He offered to double anything anyone offered me."
I smiled, "I thought you weren't working for him anymore? In any case, I'm afraid that my uncle's gold is the hay the lines the floor of his cell, and his sliver the dust."
Bronn seemed a tad less enthusiastic, though he acceded my point, "Killing a King will do that to a man, I s'pose. Still, he promised me a highborn beauty, and a castle of me own. Seems only fair I give him the chance to keep that promise."
I nodded, "Stokeworth, and the soft-hearted lady that comes with. Serve me well, and when the time comes, it'll be yours. And I offer you that with the added bonus of not dangling you from the end of a rope for serving a traitor."
Bronn seemed unamused, but he shrugged it off, "Fair enough."
I gestured to the edge of the terrace, where seclusion was more easily attained, "Shall we discuss your duties further?" He nodded, and we walked over, till we were far from anyone else. This area would normally be a hive of activity, but so early in the day, scarcely anyone was about. Only when we finally reached the edge, far away from any prying ears as one could get inside the Red Keep, did I speak, "I find myself in need of men of... dubious, morality."
He nodded in understanding, "You need someone's throat cut, eh?"
Jaime looked alarmed by the direction of the conversation, but wisely opted for silence after I shot him a look, "Amongst other things. I need a team of competent and reliable killers, someone to do the dirty work that is an unfortunate necessity of governing.
Not sadistic, you understand, like the mountain, just callous enough to do what must be done." He nodded, "Tell your men they will be richly rewarded for their service, and make sure they are cut from the same cloth as you. People who will do dirty work for coin, and who can be trusted to be discreet about it. I don't want a mess on my hands because one of your men fancied a girl in a tavern and decided to rape her, or worse, to spill his guts to her, you understand?"
Bronn nodded again, "Aye, I know the type."
I looked at Jaime, and then turned back to Bronn, "You will have one more duty. Alongside slitting the right throats, I will need you to aid my other uncle in regaining his abilities with the sword, such that he is as good with his left as he once was with his right. Naturally, I will be partaking in these lessons as well. Officially I'll be asking Ser Balon of the Kingsguard, so you needn't worry about any extra scrutiny, but I also know that shadowed blades kill just as well, if not better, than shiny steel."
Bronn looked at Jaime's golden hand whilst Jaime bristled under his gaze, and whistled, "Very pretty. I almost didn't notice it underneath all that armour."
I nodded and smiled as I made to leave, "Good. You'll have your coin on the morrow, Ser Bronn."
After we left, Jaime felt it fit to speak, "Your Grace, is this wise? I mean, a sellsword is hardly trustworthy or honourable, and you have many knights in your service..."
"Good and competent and honourable knights, uncle. Who better to do the dishonourable thing than a dishonourable man?"
Jaime looked at me strangely, "You've changed..."
I smirked, "Not the sweet boy you remember?"
"You talk more like your grandfather than yourself. It's... strange."
"I'll take that as a compliment." I straightened my expression, and spoke to him with as much earnestness as I could muster, "I learnt many hard lessons during the war. I may not have seen much fighting myself, but I did see plenty of the consequences, and unlike Joffrey, I learned from it. Power is all well and good, but from what I have seen it is often subtlety that gets the job done best. Bronn has plenty of that, and as a sellsword, he is both a disposable and a deniable asset."
He had a strange glint in his eyes, "I know, it's just..."
I nodded, "I know. I didn't expect to have to do any of this either. I didn't want the crown, but it's mine now, and I am not fool enough to neglect any aspect of governance simply because I find it distasteful. I may not yet be a man grown, but I am far from the child you knew, the one who believed in all those songs." I turned and looked at him.
"I want to to be a good king, but I also want to be an old king, and I have enough sense to know that sometimes that means getting my hands dirty. So, uncle, will you help me? To be both a good king and an old one?"
He bowed his head, a determined look on his face, "Of course, Your Grace."
...
Hey guys I really need you to throw some power stones to elevate the ranking :)
...
If you want to read ahead of the public release, or just want to support me.
you can join my p atreon :
p@treon.com/Nolma