GOT: The Golden Lion

"Taking the easy way out, brother?"

Jaime looked behind and found his brother walking in. "D-Don't… Stay there, Tyrion. I've made this choice."

"Die like a coward? Hide from the wreckage of your own making? Abandon your sons, your daughter, to be devoured by the wolves of courtly treachery?" Tyrion asked sternly, continuing to walk closer. "You and Father, you both tore the only woman who ever loved me from my grasp. Tysha—gone, thanks to your cruelty. So, tell me, should I end my miserable life? Or should I end yours and Father's instead? And yet, here I stand—Hand of the King."

Jaime couldn't stop his eyes from tearing up anymore. "W-What? What would you have me do? I failed as a son, I failed as a father, I failed as a brother, and I failed as a lover."

"No, Tywin failed us as a father! Cersei failed us as a sister! But Joffrey? That boy is teetering on the edge of being hailed as the greatest king Westeros has ever seen. Don't fail him as you failed me, Jaime. Stand by him, be his shield, his protector. He needs more than crowns and swords—he needs someone he can trust, and he only has us, brother."

Jaime's shoulders plummeted, he hesitated for a moment, and finally, he silently got down from the barrier of the balcony.

Thud!

He fell down right away, back against the barrier, his knees folded, hands clutching his head. "H-He'll hate me for killing Cersei."

"He loathed her," Tyrion revealed, a wordplay pre-decided by Joffrey. "Cersei wielded him like a pawn, and he, ever the fool, finally grasped the truth of it, Jaime. He saw how his crown wasn't his but his mother's obsession. He saw it all too clearly on the eve of Blackwater Bay—when Cersei, in her desperation, sought to hide him. From that night forth, he chose to truly wear the mantle of a king for himself. But Cersei only ever tried to rule at his behest… He loved her for giving him life, but loathed her for the monster she had become."

Jaime broke down miserably, feeling helpless.

He never really tried to be there for his children. Always satisfied as long as he got access to Cersei's cunt, merrily ignoring those who called him 'uncle', while being anything but his own blood.

"I-I'm a failure."

"I'd say, you've been a failure until now." Tyrion sat down beside Jaime and patted his shoulder. "Will you continue to remain one?"

"No! I'll be..."

"His shield?"

"I will," Jaime muttered.

"And I'll be his loyal Gold Goblin, Warden of the Wallet."

#####

Joffrey sat alone with his grandfather at a table. Tea, wine, drinks, and snacks covered the top. The smooth breeze waved the curtains at the large balcony opening beside them. They were high in one of the towers of the palace in Lys.

Over the past few days, he had kept an eye on his grandfather. To his surprise, the old lion did nothing but bed a few whores who had features similar to his dead wife—golden hair, pale unblemished face, green eyes, and a lovely slender body.

Of course, Joffrey bedded the same whores afterward to see what was so good about his dead grandmother. In the end, the verdict was that he still preferred his lovely Val if he wanted a blonde one, the obedient Sansa if he needed a toy, and the tight Arya if he needed a petite one. Furthermore, there were so many more flavors available—Taena's exotic looks, Mhaegan's eager moans, Catelyn's mature body, and many more.

Just pick any beauty from across the world and she'll spread her legs for you with delight, grandfather. Why seek your lost love in whores?

Joffrey did judge his grandfather. He had reasons to believe that Tywin was also aware of Cersei and Jaime fucking. But, although it was distasteful, he wouldn't be alive if not for that incestuous union.

"I trust you're pleased, Grandfather. Your fleet was useful, and I'll give you that, but the cities fell because of my plans. Without my strategy, we'd be knee-deep in corpses instead of celebrating victory." Joffrey sternly reminded the old man. He didn't want to share too much of his exploits with Tywin.

"You need not remind me, Your Grace. I didn't seek an audience to discuss such matters." Tywin's sharp gaze softened briefly, an uncommon sight for the rigid and ever-controlled Lord of Casterly Rock. He leaned back in his chair, a gesture that betrayed something softer beneath the iron discipline. "May I speak with you as your grandfather?"

What does he want now? I hope it's not about Cersei's death.

"Of course."

"The child in Winterfell... it carries your blood, does it not?"

Joffrey didn't flinch. He had learned to control himself before Tywin by now. But in heart, he was screaming. How did Tywin find out? Who else knew?

"What if it is?"

The old lion leaned forward. "With whom?"

Joffrey smirked. "Surely, you already know the answer, Grandfather. It's hardly difficult to trace my steps and discover who accompanied me in the North. But tell me, how did you come by this knowledge?"

"You were ruthless, yes, but not enough. The midwife had already informed her kin that she was summoned to the castle for the birth. At that time, the only woman within its walls was Lady Stark." Tywin let the words hang for a moment before continuing, his tone as cold as a winter wind. "No matter. Her family has been… taken care of."

That was a mistake indeed. Joffrey felt angered by his oversight and overconfidence.

"What is your plan?"

"To control the North, what else? My blood runs through the Starks now, and it will for generations to come. When the babe grows, I'll foster him at the Red Keep, and when he's a man, he shall marry the lady of my choice. You saw my table, I have the realm under my grasp." Joffrey revealed his intent clearly.

"Do you plan to marry Sansa?" Tywin inquired.

"Eventually, I will. But she won't be my first wife. Daenerys Targaryen will be," Joffrey gave a definite answer. "The Targaryen dragon has three heads. And as Aegon had two wives, I shall add Sansa soon after."

"Why her? She brings risk with herself. And word grows that she has three dragons."

"She does, and I'm aware. I've already begun, Grandfather. There's no need for you to worry. Dragons may be mighty, but the higher they climb, the harder they fall," Joffrey said and changed the topic right then. "What concerns me most are the Ironborn. Euron Greyjoy has seized control, and the things I hear about him… well, none of them are good. He's an ambitious fool, and ambitious fools are the worst kind."

Knock! Knock!

"Your Grace, a raven arrived from Winterfell." Ser Arthur entered and handed the small parchment.

Joffrey took the rolled paper and quickly gave it a quick read. He expected it to be something from Catelyn.

He was wrong.

"Give it a read, Grandfather."

Tywin did just that. His brows creased together in the end as he looked back at Joffrey. "You believe all this?"

"What's there not to believe? We have precedence and proof," Joffrey replied with a faint sneer. He hated how the smartest of Westeros often acted foolish when it came to magic. "The fact that we have a seven hundred foot high wall made of ice that goes beyond mortal understanding, the fact that we have three dragons across the sea—My journey to the North had a purpose, Grandfather."

Tywin openly frowned then. "They're bringing it to King's Landing?"

"No, they must bring it to King's Landing. And I want you there with every major lord and lady of Westeros. There is no Iron Throne, no Seven Kingdoms, if we don't win this. The woman with the dragons is a boon to me—at least for now."

Tywin nodded and stood up, leaving the parchment on the table. "Since when did you know about this?"

"Since the beginning."

Tywin sharply turned his head and looked at his grandson's face. Two and two came together and he connected the dots. "Everything you've done…"

"To secure my throne," Joffrey responded, "Lys and Tyrosh are mere backup plans in case we… lose."

Tywin fell into silence. That meant Joffrey had been playing the game for years now. How far did he plan? What was to come next? Where was everything headed?

It made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end.

"I shall begin making the needed arrangements then." Tywin bowed his head and left the place.

He bowed his head. Since when?

Joffrey was surprised by the amount of respect he got from the old man.

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