The Young Lion
Act 1 Ch 6: A Visit to the Godswood
The following days at Winterfell were filled with chaos and fear as Maester Luwin worked tirelessly to save Bran Stark's life. Robert and the rest of the royal entourage had done everything they could to help, even sending out ravens with royal seals to neighboring holdfasts and castles to request supplies and personnel. But after five days and nights of tireless, round-the-clock work, Maester Luwin finally exited the boy's chamber and announced that the boy would live, much to the relief of the entire castle.
However, even with such happy news, there was a caveat. In the same breath that announced the young Stark's survival came more unpleasant news. Apparently Bran lay in a coma, and Maester Luwin couldn't tell when or if the boy would ever awaken. The news sent a heavy dread throughout the once cheerful castle, leaving all of its occupants worse for wear. Though, unlike the rest of the castle, Joffrey knew better. He knew Bran's fate was far from simple, and perhaps intertwined with more than anyone here realized.
With these thoughts in mind, Joffrey slowly climbed the tower's stone steps, making his way to the young Stark's room to offer his sympathies. As he approached the chamber's doors, he could hear the sounds of arguing going on inside.
"I can, Catelyn, and you must. We all have our duties, and this is mine," the male's voice replied.
Pausing in front of the large wooden door, Joffrey hesitated before bringing his hand up.
"Here we go," he thought as he knocked on the door.
The voices stopped arguing at the sound of his knocking, and after a brief pause, a voice spoke out.
"You can come in," the male voice answered.
Taking that as his cue, he slowly pushed open the door and made his way inside. Gazing upon the room, he found both the lord and lady of Winterfell by their son's bedside. Both immediately attempted to stand, but Joffrey held his hand out.
"Please, there's no need for that."
The pair looked at each other before slowly sitting back down. Lady Stark was dressed in a plain dark blue nightgown with her hair disheveled. Her eyes were swollen and red, clear indications that she had been sobbing. Lord Stark looked much more presentable. He was dressed in plain dark brown traveling leathers and matching breeches. His hair was well-groomed and flowed down to the base of his neck. Lord Stark maintained a stoic composure, in contrast to his wife's evident distress.
"My prince," Lord Stark bowed his head.
"My prince," Catelyn followed suit before looking down at her attire, slightly embarrassed. "If I had known you were coming, I would have been better dressed, my prince."
"Nonsense, this is your home, and I'm your guest," he said, giving the pair a bow of his own.
He made his way over to the opposite bedside of the boy's parents. Gazing down at the delicate and innocent face of the ten-year-old boy, a sad smile grew on Joffrey's face. Tearing his focus away from the boy, he turned and addressed the boy's parents.
"Your sons inform me that he is expected to live, is this true?" he asked as gently as he could.
The pair looked at each other before Ned spoke.
"Yes, Maester Luwin has informed us that the most dangerous part has passed," he responded in a solemn tone.
Joffrey nodded his head as he contemplated his next words.
"When we return to the Capital, I'll have ravens sent to the Citadel asking for the best Maesters to be sent here to assist your son with his recovery."
Both the lord and lady seemed shocked by the young prince's proposal. After a brief moment, Catelyn Stark spoke up.
"That's very kind of you, my prince," she said, her voice gruff, most likely from the wailing. "But there's no need to trouble yourself with such matters. Maester Luwin is the best Maester I've ever met, and Winterfell can't afford the cost of multiple Maesters."
"I wouldn't call it a trouble in assisting in the recovery of my father's best friend's son, and the crown will compensate the Citadel for any price it might cost to accomplish that."
Hearing his generous offer, Catelyn had become stunned silent.
"Thank you, my prince," she said, bowing her head, tears welling up in her eyes again.
"Think nothing of it," he brushed off. "Now, clearly the two of you were in the middle of a serious discussion, so I won't overstay my welcome."
Joffrey then bowed his head before promptly exiting the room, leaving the Lord and Lady alone in silence. He quickly made his way out of the tower while breathing out heavy breaths.
"That was more difficult than I anticipated," he thought as he made his way to the great hall where his family was currently dining.
Making his way inside, the Lannister guard that was standing at attention stomped his foot and straightened his back as he walked by. As a female servant passed by him, he gave out his order for his breakfast.
"Every type of meat that can fit on a plate, and a mug of milk."
Hearing the last of the order made the serving girl do a double take, but ultimately she complied, bowing her head before setting off to fulfill his order. Making his way further into the great hall, he found his family already eating and waiting for him. He quickly took his seat across from his younger siblings.
"Mother, uncle," he tilted his head as he sat at the wooden rectangular table. "Hello Myrcella, Tommen."
He gave them both a kind smile, but both siblings recoiled from him. Seeing their distrustful and frankly frightened expressions shocked the young prince, before he remembered everything the real Joffrey had done to the two of them over the years. Joffrey just nodded his head, giving the two a sad smile. Before the situation could get any more awkward, a familiar voice filled the empty hall.
"Bread and two of those little fish, and a mug of dark beer to wash it down."
Joffrey glanced over his right shoulder, finding his uncle taking a seat next to Jaime. Making his younger siblings perk up.
"Little brother," Jaime greeted affectionately.
"Beloved siblings," Tyrion responded before indulging in some of the bacon already on the table.
"Is Bran going to die?" Myrcella asked innocently.
"Apparently not," he answered as he chewed on a piece of bacon. Both Myrcella and Tommen seemed relieved and elated upon hearing the news. Though both his mother and uncle were not so thrilled, sending a knowing look to each other that Joffrey caught.
"What do you mean?" the queen inquired further.
"The Maester says the boy will live," he responded by taking a sip from his cup.
"It's true," Joffrey spoke up as he swallowed a piece of sausage. The rest of the family turned to him as he drank from his cup. "Lord Robb and Jon have told me the boy will survive; whether or not he wakes up, no one knows."
Once again, both Cersei and Jaime looked at each other, this time Tyrion spotted it as well.
"Well, it's no mercy to allow a child to linger in such pain," Cersei said, faking sympathy.
"Well, only the gods know for certain; all the rest of us can do is pray."
"Are you still going to the Wall?" Joffrey asked.
"Of course, I want to see one of the greatest structures ever built with my own eyes."
"This is ridiculous, even for you," Cersei scoffed.
Tyrion almost seemed offended by her remark.
"Oh, come now, where's your sense of adventure? The intrepid men of the Night's Watch. The winter abode of the White Walkers."
His siblings laughed and giggled at their silly uncle's words, while both Cersei and Jaime shook their heads. The only one not joking was Joffrey, who had a solemn expression as he looked over his new family, who were all blissfully ignorant.
"You have no idea," he thought to himself as he continued to eat.
"Please tell me you are not taking the black?" Jaime asked, with clear concern.
"And go celibate, please," Tyrion scoffed. "The whores throughout the Seven Kingdoms would cry in despair."
Even Joffrey laughed, hearing his uncle's words.
"Children don't need to hear such filth," his mother spat before standing up from her seat. "Come," she gestured for her three children to follow her.
Myrcella and Tommen complied, but Joffrey remained seated at the table with his two uncles.
"I'm still eating; I'll catch up with you before we depart, Mother."
Cersei hesitated for a second before leaving the hall with his two younger siblings. Now alone, the two Lannister brothers continued to converse.
"Even if the boy lives, he'd be a cripple," Jaime scoffed with disgust. "Give me a good death any day."
"Well, let's hope we can avoid that future, uncle's," Joffrey thought.
"Speaking for the cripples and poorly formed, I'd have to disagree," Tyrion chimed in. "Death is so final, while life is filled with possibilities."
"Indeed, even with such hardship, life holds value," Joffrey added as he finished the last of his meal and cup, as both brothers looked at him.
"Agreed. Have you given your sympathies to Lady Stark yet, nephew?"
"I have," Joffrey nodded his head as he drank the last of the milk. "I informed them that they will be in our prayers, and the crown would assist them in any way we can."
Tyrion nodded his head, while Jaime looked surprised.
"Good, these are things expected of you as royalty."
"I am aware of my responsibilities, Uncle," Joffrey said, getting annoyed by the Dwarf's presumptuous attitude. Tyrion just scoffed and went back to eating, while Jaime looked on amused. Joffrey then stood up and stretched out his limbs.
"Well then, I'll leave you two blonde twats to it. I want to say goodbye to a few people before we depart."
Joffrey made his way out of the great hall as the two Lannisters watched his back.
"Something has seriously changed within him," Tyrion said in a serious tone. "He's been acting differently ever since his incident with the king."
Jaime just shrugged his shoulders.
"I've seen plenty of knights get a good knock to the head with a mace or flail and completely change overnight. Though in truth, the change usually manifests as them not being able to form complete sentences anymore or drooling on themselves."
Tyrion nodded his head at his older brother's words, who took a sip from his mug.
"As far as I can see, it's been an improvement, so I don't know why you're complaining."
"I'm not complaining," Tyrion denied, shaking his head. "It's just a mystery as to why he changed so drastically, and I hate mysteries."
The two Lannister brothers continued to converse over their breakfast, while Joffrey made his way out to the main yard. He watched as the Lannister and Baratheon guards saddled up the stage coaches and horses, preparing for their departure back south. Seeing a friendly face in the crowd, he made his way over, ignoring the soldiers bowing their heads as he walked by. As he got closer, the young man turned around to greet him.
"Hello, my prince," Robb said, bowing his head.
"My prince," Benjen Stark repeated the gesture.
"My lords, how are you on this fine morning?" he said, smiling and greeting them amicably.
"We're well, my prince—" Robb started to say before Joffrey held up his hand, interrupting him.
"Hey, none of the bullshit," he scoffed. "I told you when we're alone you can just call me by my name. I get enough of that brown-nosing in the Capital."
Robb and his uncle laughed at his words.
"So today's the day, huh?"
"Yeah, I would've liked to stay longer, but duty calls."
They all nodded their heads in agreement at those words. Looking over, the three saw Sansa slowly make her way out of the castle, wrapped in furs. Sansa looked over at the group of men and smiled at the prince. Joffrey, seeing her smile, sent her one back, making the little doe's face become as red as her hair before she scurried away. Robb, however, had a rather annoyed expression as he looked on at his sister.
"You'd better honor her," he said in a dead serious tone without looking at the prince. "When you take her as a wife, you'd better honor her."
Joffrey just let out a small chuckle, as he had forgotten how protective all the Stark men were.
"That's something you never have to worry about, Robb," he said, looking into the older boy's eyes. "And the next time we meet, it will be as real brothers."
Robb looked into Joffrey's eyes with a dead serious expression, looking for any signs of deceit. After finding none, a small smile grew on his face as well.
"Well, I can think of worse outcomes," he said sarcastically.
"Geez, thanks," he responded, making the three laugh again. He then turned his attention to Benjen Stark.
"Oh, Lord Benjen, it seems like my uncle intends to accompany you to the Wall." The older Stark's eyes widened a little hearing the prince's words. "So I want you to do as we discussed and prepare a list for him, alright?"
"I will; I've already sent a raven to the Lord Commander."
"Good, good."
Joffrey nodded his head with approval, while Robb just looked confused.
"Speaking of departures, where's Jon? I wanted to say goodbye to him as well."
"Oh, he said he had a few things to take care of," Robb answered. "But I wouldn't worry; you'll have plenty of time to talk on the Kingsroad."
"Really? Why?"
"He's decided to take the black, so he'll be departing with us," Benjen answered.
Joffrey wore a surprised expression that didn't reach his eyes.
"All going according to the plot," he thought internally.
"Well, I'm sure he'll look great in black. I hope he can find some happiness up there."
"Aye, no bastards have ever been turned away at the Wall," Benjen spoke with pride.
"True, I just wished the rest of the Kingdoms were as accepting over something so trivial."
Both Starks' eyes went wide with surprise after hearing the prince's words. An awkward silence loomed over the three of them before Robb decided to change the subject.
"Oh, my prince, I had these crafted for you; consider them a gift from all your subjects up north."
Joffrey looked down with surprise as Robb unveiled two dark grey castle-forged steel bracers. They were rough but still elegant, with engravings and round notches. Joffrey slowly took the pair of armor into his hand, slipping them atop his long-sleeved black doublet. Feeling the weight on his forearms, a genuine smile broke out across the prince's face.
"Thank you, Robb, I'll treasure them."
"Think nothing of it; maybe now you'll get better at actually blocking."
"You know what? Fuck you, Robb, I've gotten better."
"Really? 'Cause last time I checked, the score was 2 to 12 and—"
The two went on to bicker as an amused Benjen watched on. Eventually, the group split up. Benjen had to see to his horse, while Robb needed to check on Rickon. Joffrey, on the other hand, was having all his belongings handled by the servants. So instead, he decided to take a walk around the castle one last time. As he walked leisurely toward the library tower, he suddenly felt a chill run up his spine as he heard a voice.
"Joffrey."
The voice was light, almost like a passing breeze. Joffrey spun around, looking for the source of the voice, but finding no one there. When he was about to chalk it up to him hearing things, he heard it again.
"Joffrey."
This time, more clearly. Hearing the voice, he decided to follow it despite his better instincts, almost as if something was guiding him. Following the sounds on the wind, he made his way into Winterfell's Godswood. The voice was becoming clearer and clearer as he made his way inside.
Of all the places on the Castle's grounds, this was one of the few the prince hadn't explored, along with the crypts. The prince had to admit the forest was quite beautiful and could see the appeal, and from what little he knew of dendrology, there were multiple different types of trees within the personal forest, each beautiful in its own way. As he got closer to the heart of the forest, he was greeted with the sight of a giant, thick white oak tree, except it had a face.
"So this is a Weirwood tree, huh?" Joffrey thought as he stepped closer to study it.
It had five-pointed red leaves with smooth, wide trunks. The bark of the tree itself was white as bone, but the most distinguished feature was the face at the base of the trunk. The face seemed like it belonged to a weeping child, as blood-red sap ran from the holes that consisted of its eyes.
Joffrey remembered reading in the tower library that the children of the forest carved the faces back before the Age of Heroes. The young prince just continued to stare into the weeping face, almost mesmerized, before he felt his body move.
He stepped forward, drawn like a moth toward a flame. His body moved on his own accord as he reached out with his right hand, touching the face of the tree, allowing the red sap to run over his fingers. Suddenly, he felt his consciousness pulled from his body as his mind was bombarded with visions. The visions were sporadic and obscure as they flashed inside his mind like a picture slideshow.
Pictures of a sun rising and setting in a frozen wasteland. Of a giant tree with infinite roots that spread across the entire continent. Of a giant bird perched atop a tall tree. Of a woman surrounded by piles of corpses. Then of an ocean with pitch-black depths.
Then the vision shifted towards a vision of a warrior standing with his back to him, making it impossible to see his face. With another standing beside him as a storm of snow and darkness loomed over them. Then slowly a voice spoke in Joffrey's ear as if he were standing right beside him.
"Never forget."
The voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up before the vision abruptly ended and he was forced back into his body. Joffrey quickly pulled his hand away, visibly shaken by what he had just seen.
HuffHuffHuff
His breath was labored as he tried to regain his composure, but soon a voice called out to him, shocking him out of his stupor.
"Joffrey!" The gruff voice called out.
Joffrey turned toward the sound of the voice and found Sandor standing a few yards for him.
"The hell are you doing out here? We've been calling you for hours and you've been staring at a tree?"
"Huh? Hours?"
It was only then Joffrey glanced down and found his entire body covered in fallen tree leaves. Clearly still confused, he decided to try to brush it off.
"Sorry, I lost track of time," he said as he swept the leaves off his body.
"Well whatever, have fun explaining that to the king; he's pissed," Sandor said as he turned to leave. "Come on, prince, or your mother will tan both our hides."
"R-right, right," he agreed, quickly following the hound out of the forest.
Taking one last glance at the strange tree, Joffrey felt uneasiness and fear churning up in his stomach, much like when he was first brought to this strange world. Unseen by either men, a raven perched up on one of the Weirwood branches was gazing down at them. After taking one last look at the pair as they left, it took flight and soared into the sky.
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