Chapter 49: Chapter 46 - The Snake, The Dog, The Mountain III
Amidst the small talk, they arrived outside the Red Keep. There, Sansa received Joanna from Arya. Then, Joffrey invited his northern lover to ride with him in the carriage. Just the two of them.
On the way, he played with his little daughter. He had yet to see Tywin hold her and hear her name, but he was looking forward to it.
"You look more cheerful since Arya arrived." Joffrey brought the topic back on track.
In utter bliss, Sansa only nodded. She felt like a family with Joffrey at that moment. Sitting so close to him, her head on his shoulder, while their daughter was on his lap. "I feel… whole."
"How delightful to hear. I'm certain Arya is just as pleased to see you. Perhaps I'll ensure she remains in the Red Keep with you." Joffrey's tone was laced with a subtle menace. "Should I knight her, do you think? She strikes me as the sort who would revel in such an honor."
"Hmm… She's always been the sort who was more into swords and bows than sewing and etiquettes. I'm not sure, but I'd love to have her here with me." Sansa honestly answered, unaware of what she had unleashed on her sister.
With that, Joffrey clasped her hand and gazed at her face with a fondness that seemed almost genuine. His eyes, however, betrayed a steely resolve, a promise of reassurance laced with unspoken threats. A subtle smile, hiding a thousand schemes, played on his lips. "Then I shall do anything within my power to ensure she lives here with us… happily."
By then they had arrived at the Great Sept of Baelor. The Kingsguards opened the carriage's door and let Sansa out first. Then, at last, Joffrey stepped out to greet the crowd outside the Sept. A lot of smallfolk had gathered at the foot of the stairs.
Things were going much better for the smallfolk when compared to a few months ago. Now they had a decent amount of food that at least ensured they didn't starve. The sewers had been fixed, so the foul scent had dissipated. With the Golden Legion and Ser Arthur taking care of the law and order, safety was impeccable.
There she is. Joffrey's eyes fixed on Margaery as she stood at the top of the stairs, outside the gates of the Sept. Her dress, a pale blue gown with a long train, trailed arrogantly against the marble floor. Sleeveless, with a naked back, and a neckline so deep, her cleavage was more than half exposed. A smirking whore indeed. Even on her wedding day, she dresses like a common whore.
"After you, Your Grace." She greeted Joffrey with a graceful bow.
Joffrey just nodded and walked into the Sept. It was a massive hall with large statues of The Seven. At the end stood the High Septon on the stairs, with the seven-pointed star on the wall behind. The smooth hum of the choir greeted his ears while the crowd of lords and ladies remained silent.
What a waste of coin. Joffrey sneered inside. He looked at his family and nodded. Of course, he didn't find any joyous smile on his mother's face. Right beside her was Jaime. It's your number after this.
Tap! Tap!
As he stood at the end of the altar, footsteps came from behind. Margaery walked in with her father this time and soon parted ways. Joffrey uncaringly placed his crown on his head and donned the regal cloak just then. Then he stepped closer to Margaery and extended her an arm to hold.
Ugh, that smile. Joffrey ignored her face for the time being. Once upon a time, it was a face he yearned to stuff his cock in. But now he just hated it. It was worthless even as a tool for sexual pleasure since she used her brain more than her mouth.
He followed the ceremony. Placed the cape on her shoulders and then let the High Septon tie their hands with a soft silken ribbon.
"Let it be known that Margaery of House Tyrell and Joffrey of House Lannister and Baratheon are one heart—" The High Septon removed the tied knot. "One flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder."
I have to kiss her? Joffrey cursed himself. But he had to act for the time being.
The two turned around, her hand in his. Joffrey smiled brightly and proclaimed his love for his beautiful wife. "With this kiss! I pledge my love."
Margaery giggled like a virgin maiden and leaned her face closer to Joffrey.
I hope her filthy mouth isn't poisoned. Joffrey sneered and stopped kissing once he felt the tiniest trace of wetness.
Finally, he looked back at the crowd again. This time his gaze landed on Oberyn first and then on Sandor behind the crowd. He raised his hand to stop the raining claps so his voice could be heard. "The king has claimed his queen, and now the feast awaits. But before we fill our plates, there remains the clash of fates. Uncle Jamie! Please guide us to the quick tourney."
Most of the guests were unaware of the so-called quick tourney. So they silently moved out of the Sept and headed to the Red Keep where temporary tourney grounds were established. After all, only melee was going to be a part of it.
Joffrey walked down the stairs with Margaery. Once he was beside Oberyn, he smiled and whispered. "Don't die."
"Not a chance." Oberyn confidently smirked and left to prepare.
Sandor Clegane had also left by then to prepare. He had received special permission from the King. Now, it was up to him to earn the right to battle the Mountain That Rides.
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In the arena by the seaside. The spectators filled the seats, most of them nobles. The wine plenty, food in heaps, the first melee had already begun by the time Joffrey arrived with Margaery and took the royal seats as spectators.
Let's see how it goes this time. Joffrey recognized that it was the same place where Oberyn died in his last life. Although he hadn't seen it personally since he was also dead, the memory was still gruesome.
"Grapes, my love?"
Interrupted by Margaery, he looked at the single grape she was offering. "Not before the feast, Margaery."
"You need strength, my love. You need strength for the night," she insisted.
Is this poisoned? Joffrey had only one question on his mind. But he refused to waste the bird Melisandre gave him on a grape. He had already confirmed that Sansa had received a necklace from the Tyrells.
"I've more than enough energy to exhaust you all night. Let's focus on the tourney. A long-standing feud is to be settled today." Joffrey commanded her attention back to the arena. One by one, the men were eliminated, paving the way for more formidable matches. When only four remained, the stage was set.
Two men walked out of different gates and entered the hard-floor arena. Both of them were armored from head to toe, but one held a sword while the other a spear. One was as tall as eight feet while the other was a modest ordinary man.
"The next fight is between Lord Oberyn Martell and Ser Gregor Clegane!" The herald roared to announce the fighters.
He's wearing the armor. Joffrey took a calming breath seeing the Red Viper well equipped.
However, before the fight could begin, Gregor Clegane looked towards Joffrey and deeply bowed.
"Fight well, my champion! You represent me!" Joffrey shouted back, a subtle hint still hiding his true intentions. It wasn't easy to convince Tywin to give away his precious pawn. Of course, Joffrey didn't want to either.
The realm is slowly sliding into my palm. Joffrey relaxed in the soft seat, legs crossed while watching Oberyn circle around the Mountain and spin his spear. Tyrells and Martells… I'll have you two on your knees soon.
"...Have I told you who I am?"
"Some dead man!" Gregor Clegane charged.
Clash!
The two clashed their weapons a few times, gauging each other. Gregor's giant-like strength was clear from the start.
"I am the brother of Elia Martell. Do you know why—Ugh, this damn helmet." Oberyn suddenly grabbed his red armored helmet and threw it away. "Why I've come all the way to this rotten city? For you!"
Clank!
Clash!
Oberyn was much faster, clearly. His weapon's reach gave him an advantage.
"I'm going to hear you confess before you die. You raped my sister. You murdered her. You killed her children. Say it now and we can make this quick!"
"Haaaa!" Mountain raged forward.
The sound of metal clashes resumed right then. Oberyn's constant talking and the Mountain's grunts.
In the middle, Joffrey stood up from his seat and started to leave.
"My love, won't you see this to the end?" Margaery looked at her newly wedded husband curiously. She easily understood the historical significance of the fight.
Joffrey shrugged and pitifully looked at the Red Viper without his helmet. "Why bother when you know the end?"
"Hm." Margaery nodded and instead pitied Gregor Clegane's vile and worthless life.
"Send a word for me when Sandor enters the arena," Joffrey said and left to take a piss.
He had already made all his moves on the chessboard, after all. The only difference was that others were yet to notice as they busied themselves worthlessly planning.
The King wasn't even sitting on the board anymore.
The King had already won.
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