The Young Lion
Act 1 Ch 5: The King's Hunt
After a whole week of contemplation, Ned Stark finally accepted Robert's appointment as his new Hand. Though Joffrey suspected it was for a different reason than the king thought, especially how he caught both the Lord and Lady of Winterfell throwing suspicious glances his family's way.
To celebrate the news Robert had decided to organize a hunt with his and Ned's families and bannermen. Getting in on the hunt hadn't been all that difficult since his "father" was an avid hunter who loved sticking his spear in something, whether it be whores or boars. So when Joffrey made the request to come along, he was more than delighted to have him, despite how the queen might have felt about it.
Joffrey made his way out into the castle's courtyard dressed in dark brown leather hunting attire that was provided to him by the Starks. As he walked past the Baratheon and Stark bannermen who were saddling their horses he spotted the Hound and his uncle Tyrion sitting on a wooden crate. He slowly made his way over to them.
"Wouldn't pick you for a hunter," he heard Sandor say.
"I'm the greatest in the land, and my spear never misses."
"It's not hunting if you pay for it."
Sandor was about to stand when Joffrey stopped a yard away from them.
"Are you guys ready to go or what?"
The odd pair looked at each other before looking back at the prince.
"You're coming along?" Tyrion nearly scoffed.
"Yeah, my father already agreed. Besides, I think some fresh air would do us all some good."
Sandor rolled his eyes at the prince's words.
"Air's the same wherever you go, except for the Capital."
Joffrey shuddered at the memories of what awaited all of them when they returned to King's Landing. The smell of shit and death saturating the air.
"Seriously though, why are you coming, Uncle?"
Tyrion looked at Joffrey with mock indignation.
"Why does everyone doubt my hunting prowess? I'll have you know, boy, I've gotten my spear bloody more times than you."
"Okay, first of all, gross, and second, you know you're not allowed to fuck the boar, right?"
Sandor chuckled slightly hearing the young prince's response.
"Well, just try not to get killed," he said before turning and walking away from the Imp, flanked by Sandor. He quickly found his steed and after fixing his riding gloves pulled himself up into the saddle. He immediately spotted his father talking with Lord Stark and led his horse over to them.
"Your Grace," he bowed his head. "Thank you again for letting me come along."
Before the king could respond a familiar voice filled the quiet morning air.
"Joffrey, what are you doing?"
Joffrey turned his horse to the source of the voice and found his mother staring at him with a scowl across her face.
"I'm joining the other men in the hunt, Mother," he said in a calm voice.
"You're too young and it's too dangerous for you to be hunting such beasts."
"I'm sixteen, Mother, not twelve. Father and uncle were fighting in wars at my age. I think I can handle a few pigs."
Robert actually puffed his chest out with pride hearing his son's words. Seeing she wasn't getting anywhere with her son, Cersei decided to change tactics.
"My love," she said, her voice was spiteful despite the kind words. "Are you sure it is wise to exert our Joffrey so soon after his… unfortunate incident at Moat Cailin?"
"The boy's fine, woman," he spat, shrugging off her concerns. "If he finally wants to start acting like a man, who am I to deny him the opportunity?"
Cersei looked ready to spit fire upon hearing the king's words. It was only when her brother came up to whisper something in her ear that she managed to calm down. Joffrey even thought he might have caught a hint of excitement in her eyes. That's when it clicked for Joffrey what the pair intended to do while everyone was away from the castle.
"Gross," he thought with disgust.
After considering her options Cersei let out a heavy sigh.
"Just make sure you are careful out there, Joff, and don't take any unnecessary risks."
"I won't, Mother, I promise."
Robert beamed with joy, slapping Joffrey on the back nearly knocking him off his horse.
"Come on, boy, let's get moving."
The king started to lead his horse away followed by Ned and Joffrey, when the prince stopped and turned to look at his mother and uncle.
"Uncle, won't you be joining us?" He asked, hoping to bring Jaime with them. "We could use a strong arm like yours."
Jaime looked up and gave his "nephew" his trademark smirk.
"I would, my prince, but with everyone away someone must remain behind to protect your mother and siblings."
"I doubt bending her over and taking her from behind counts as 'protecting'," he thought.
"I understand that, but I'm sure Winterfell has plenty of guards adequate enough to handle such a task for just a few hours. Besides, I've never gotten the chance to hunt with you, Uncle Jaime," he insisted.
"Yes, well, some other time perhaps."
Joffrey looked to Robert for help to bring the Kingsguard with them. But the drunken fool just shrugged his shoulders and turned his horse the other way. Joffrey just let out a sigh and followed behind him. Sandor soon led his large brown stallion over to stand beside Joffrey's.
Seeing the sworn shield, Cersei took a moment to speak to him.
"Keep my boy safe out there, dog, for if anything happens to him no Maester alive will be able to fix what I do to you."
Sandor just bowed his head unbothered by the queen's threat, while Joffrey just looked embarrassed. The queen and her Kingsguard made their way back inside the warmth of the castle, while Joffrey followed behind his father's horse outside the gates. The hunting party all made their way to a small clearing just outside Wintertown. Robert and Ned made their way to the front before turning their horses to face the rest of their men.
"Alright boys, let's go kill some boars!"
Robert shouted excitedly, making many of the bannermen chuckle. The two men then turned their horses and started to lead the group toward the Wolfswood. As they slowly approached the thick evergreen forest a certain heir and his uncle made their way to the Prince and Hound's side.
"Try not to get lost out there, my prince," Robb said as his horse rode alongside Joffrey's. "These forests can be quite confusing."
"Aye, sometimes even us Northerners get lost in them," his uncle Benjen concurred.
Joffrey smirked, glad to have built a more amicable relationship with the heir to Winterfell than his true counterpart.
"I appreciate the warning," he responded, smiling.
"Just don't stray from the main track and you'll be fine," Robb said before glancing down at the boar spear at his side. "And let's hope you're more handy with a spear than a sword, my prince."
"Fuck you, Robb."
He responded, making the two northmen chuckle while the Hound maintained his usual grim expression. The hunting party's horse started to pick up speed and descended down toward the forest.
"Try to keep up," Robb said as he bounced in his saddle before taking off with his uncle. Joffrey and the Hound kicked the sides of their horses and followed behind them. Once inside the forest the hunting party split into smaller groups. Ned and Robert remained close together, Robb and Benjen went their own way, while Joffrey stuck with Sandor and went down another trail.
After getting some distance, the prince and his companion dismounted their horses before tying them to trees and drawing their spears. Moving with quiet deliberate steps, careful to avoid any sticks that might alert their prey to their presence, the pair slowly made their way through the brush.
The prince's senses were on high alert, listening to every cricket and every rodent that scurried by as they made their way past bushes. Seeing the flicking of orange, Joffrey gestured to the Hound with a nonverbal hand signal. The Hound readied his spear and watched the bush intently. Once they were close enough and there was a flicker again, Sandor flung his spear at the bush.
A loud screech filled the air, and Joffrey and Sandor rushed to the bush. It was indeed a red-tailed fox, and it had a spear sticking out of its side. Sandor then moved seamlessly, pulling out his dagger and ending the poor creature's suffering. Whilst the Hound was cleaning his dagger, the prince whistled with approval.
"Damn, nice shot, Sandor," he complimented. "When did you get so accurate with a spear?"
"Years of practice, my prince," he responded nonchalantly as he bagged the dead fox.
"Well, let's keep moving. I've got to bring back something, or Robb won't let me hear the end of it."
Sandor raised his one eyebrow at the prince's words, wondering when exactly he had become so close with the Heir to Winterfell. The pair then resumed their hunt, but only managed to catch a few snow rabbits and badgers. They were ready to return to the main group when Joffrey heard a rustling in the forest ahead of them.
Moving with the utmost silence, Joffrey and the Hound made their way to a small clearing and found a beautiful white-tailed doe drinking from a stream. Seeing his prey in sight, Joffrey moved in slowly, remaining hidden in the thick brush as he inched closer and closer to the unsuspecting animal.
Snap!
His foot stepped on a bundle of sticks, alerting the deer to his presence. Joffrey didn't move an inch and became as still as a statue as the wary animal looked around, flicking its ears. After a few moments passed, the thirsty deer resumed its drinking, while Joffrey resumed closing the distance. Once he determined he was close enough, he tightened his grip on his spear's shaft and jumped up and hurled it with all his strength before the unsuspecting deer could flee.
The spear pierced the deer's side, which made it run as fast as it could away from the stream. It only managed to get twenty yards before collapsing to its side. Joffrey quickly followed after it and found the poor beast gasping for air as it lay bleeding on the ground, a pool of blood gathering beneath it. Following Sandor's example, Joffrey drew his dagger and stuck it into the beast's neck, putting it out of its misery.
As Joffrey wiped his blade clean, Sandor slowly approached him from behind.
"A fine kill, Prince Joffrey," he said, genuinely praising the catch.
"Thank you, Sandor." Standing up from beside the dead beast. "Please carry it with the utmost care. I'm going to offer it to my father."
The Hound tilted his head and slowly reached down and hoisted the hundred-pound animal up like it weighed nothing. As the pair were about to leave, a small cry from an animal filled the air. The pair looked at each other confused before making their way toward the source of the noise.
After pushing aside some brush, the duo came upon a newborn fawn lying curled up in a makeshift bundle. The baby deer continued to bleat, probably out of hunger. Seeing the poor animal that would now starve to death or get eaten now that its mother was dead, Joffrey couldn't help but look down with pity.
Taking a moment to consider his options, he held out his hand, stopping the Hound from putting down the defenseless creature. Sandor looked confused as Joffrey wrapped the babe in his cloak and took it into his arms.
"Where are you taking it, my prince?"
"I think I'll bring it back with us."
"What? Why?"
Joffrey just shrugged his shoulders at the question.
"Let's just call it a whim," he responded nonchalantly.
Sandor just rolled his eyes but didn't voice any complaints as he followed behind the strange prince who held the baby deer tenderly to his chest. As they walked out of the clearing, Joffrey thought about the other reason he was bringing it with them that he hadn't voiced.
"And to right an old wrong," he thought a little bitterly.
Eventually, the pair made their way back to the main track and found their horses exactly where they left them. Once Sandor was finished tying the bag filled with their kills onto his saddle, he slung the dead deer over the back of his horse. Joffrey then handed him the little fawn as he pulled up onto his horse, then took it back and held it tightly in the crevice of his right arm as he held the reins with his left.
The duo slowly rode down the muddy trail, following the sounds of the noisy bannermen. As he strode through the makeshift campsite, the heads of the bannermen turned to watch the prince ride by while being followed by Sandor, who was on foot leading his horse by its reins with a large deer slung over its back.
From what Joffrey could see, most of the soldiers hadn't had much luck in catching anything worth boasting about. As he ushered his horse forward, he spotted his father and the Stark family at the center of the camp. Dismounting his horse, he stepped forward, closely trailed by Sandor, who was carrying the doe in his arms.
"Father," Joffrey greeted, giving a respectful nod as the stag king turned towards him.
"By the gods, boy, where have you been! We were just about to send out a search party when…"
But his words caught in his throat as he gazed upon the dead deer in Sandor's arms.
"I was hunting," was all Joffrey said as he enjoyed the shocked expression on Robert's and Ned Stark's faces. Taking a moment to compose himself, Robert looked up at Sandor.
"An elk?" Ned Stark asked.
"An elk? Is that what this is? I thought it was just a large deer."
"No, it's an elk," Benjen Stark confirmed. "And a pretty big one at that."
"Did you kill that beast, Clegane?"
"No, Your Grace," he said, shaking his head. "This was the prince's kill."
The fat king looked between the pair back and forth, wondering if maybe he had heard the Hound wrong. Once Ned confirmed he wasn't hearing things, he gazed down at his son with shock. Though the shocked expression soon gave way to happiness and finally pride. He slung his arm around the boy's neck and pulled him tightly against his breast as he let out loud laughter, the smell of stale wine hitting him like a slap to the face.
"Ha! Well done, boy!"
All the soldiers cheered for the young prince, with even Ned Stark giving a nod of approval.
"Though I'm afraid your father still has you beat," Robert said before forcing Joffrey to look at the giant boar with a spear sticking out of its side.
"Wow," Joffrey's eyes went wide. "Did you kill that on your own, Your Grace?"
"Yup!" he bellowed and laughed.
Joffrey had to admit it was pretty impressive that one as spherical as the drunk king could still be that fast or precise with a spear when he was half in his cups.
"Alright, come on, boys! I want these beasts tanned before we return to the castle!"
The king bellowed, letting go of Joffrey much to his relief. The soldiers got right to work hanging the dead animals up and getting their knives ready. Joffrey moved away after taking a cup of wine from his insistent father. He slowly sipped the arbor red out of the waterskin, coughing before handing it off to Ned.
As the prince watched the butchers get to work, Robb made his way over, patting him on the back for his successful hunt.
"Well done, my prince. It was a fine kill."
"Thank you, Lord Stark. I wish I could say the same to you," he gestured to the three rabbits the northman managed to catch. Robb pushed Joffrey slightly in mock anger before breaking out into laughter. The tanning took close to a few hours before they were wrapped up and ready for transport.
"Alright, men, let's head back. It's cold as shit out here."
Everyone agreed with the southern king and mounted up to return to the castle. The returning hunting party slowly rode through Wintertown and made their way back inside the castle's gates. As they made their way into the courtyard a servant came sprinting toward Ned Stark, nearly getting trampled from frightening the horse.
"Lord Stark! Lord Stark!" he screamed.
Ned pulled back on the reins of his horse, calming it down before addressing the young servant.
"Easy, lad, what is it?"
"It's your son, my lord! Lord Bran."
Ned immediately became serious upon hearing his son's name.
"What about Bran?! What happened?!"
"He fell, my Lord! He was climbing the First Keep Broken Tower and slipped and fell!"
Lord Stark immediately jumped off his horse alongside Robb and Benjen.
"Where are they now?!" he demanded.
"In his chambers, my lord," he answered, slightly frightened. "Lady Stark and Maester Luwin are currently with him."
Eddard pushed past the young servant and rushed into the castle and was quickly followed by his son and brother. Robert began shouting out orders to the soldiers who began to scramble upon hearing the king's orders. While all this chaos was unfolding, the only one with a calm expression was the crown prince.
"And so the first domino falls," was all he thought as he watched the Starks and the Baratheon's bannermen scurry about the courtyard.
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