The Young Lion

Act 1 Ch 12 A Hero’s Confession

After he got back he went to his new royal chamber and began working on new designs for the steel that he would soon possess. He had already given Tobho the designs for the blast furnace, the Baratheon process, and the beehive oven. He never failed to be amused by the old smith’s enthusiasm when he gave him a new design. By the end of the month the three projects should be up and running and the bedrock for his industry will finally comensse.

He had explained to the old smith the necessities of the three components working as one. 

[Flashback when Joffrey revisited the smith]

Joffrey had secretly made his way out of the red keep using one of its many hidden passages, and made his way to the Street of Steel to get an update on the old smith's progress. After arriving late at night with a robe obscuring his appearance he made his way into the shop. As he came inside he found only Tobho was still there and the other workers had gone home. The furnace was still slightly lit, illuminating the small shop in the late hours of the wolf. As he approached the old smith, he became startled and jumped to his feet grabbing a hammer to defend himself from the hooded figure.

“Who the fuck are you!? And what the fuck are you doing in my shop!?” He yelled a hammer in the air.

Joffrey remained calm and simply lowered his hood.

“Oh my prince!” He said, dropping the hammer and a big smile spreading across his face. “What brings you here at such an ungodly hour?”

“Hello Tobho my good sir, I’ve come to see how  your work is coming along.” Joffrey said with a smile and familiarity like he was greeting a life long friend.

“It's going well, my prince.” He said, patting him on the back, getting soot on his robe. “All the projects are nearing completion, it should be done within a few more weeks.” He said his face beaming with excitement.

“Excellent!” Joffrey said with excitement the old man exceeded his expectations. He grasped the man's shoulders and looked at him with pride. “Where one step closer to the industry I envisioned. Tobho my friend you have outdone yourself.” 

He could see the blast furnace was already nearly complete and as was the water wheel that would power it. He could see the small industrial sector coming to life right before his eyes. Tobho just rubbed the back of his head a little bashful of the king’s compliments. 

“Though this isn’t just a friendly visit, I’ve brought you another design.”

 The old smith looked like he had stars in his eyes. The new king never ceased to amaze him with his genius innovations. Joffrey then pulled out a fresh parchment, he unfolded the paper and showed the smith the latest design. He looked over it with inquisitive eyes before asking what it was. To Tobho’s eyes it appeared to be some kind of oven but he wasn’t a baker.

“My king, what is this?” He asked, clearly confused.

“The last piece to the bedrock of our new industry my friend.” He said with a smile. “It's called a Beehive oven.”

“Beehive oven?”

“Yes, it's a crucial point in the Baratheon process and the blast furnace I have given you.” He said, understanding the man’s confusion.

“You feed the oven’s with coal which will then become coke, a far better fuel source. Which you then feed to the blast furnace creating molten pig iron, then that pig iron is fed to the process which gives you to create steel you see?” He said in a teaching tone explaining each step.

Tobho’s mouth hung agape at the young king’s words. If everything he was saying was true then that would mean that their future industry would work like a well made cart wheel. The need for an individual's talent would become almost completely unnecessary. Anyone could follow such simple instructions.

“Genius!” The old smith shouted, grasping the young prince's shoulders. “With this our industry’s yield will increase a hundred fold!”

“I’m glad you're happy.” He said smiling while escaping the man’s embrace. “I’ll leave the details to you. Can you get it done?” He asked while smiling at the smith.

“Of course my prince, I’ll have it finished by month’s end, on the honor of my hammer!” He shouted with a brimming smile.

“I’ll hold you to that, but don’t push yourself too hard. The realm is in need of you.” He said with a smile turning to leave the shop into the night.

“Aye sire.” He said saluting like a soldier making Joffrey chuckle with his antics.

[Flashback end]

Joffrey sat at his desk thinking about his projects that were nearing completion. All his ambitions were on the verge of success. Once the beehive ovens are up and running not only would his steel production work like clock work, but with the yield of the phosphate fertilizer combined with his future four-yield agriculture system, food won’t be a problem either. He planned on selling their first batch of ingots and with a five way war about to start there will be no shortage of their demand. Once he made a fortune he would be able to reinvest in his industrial sector and large scale production could begin. He just had to deal with an annoying pack of wolves first.

As he was working late into the evening that's when a servant came to his chambers. The servant knocked on his door before letting themselves in. 

“Your Grace the small council has sent me to get you.”

“For what purpose?” He asked, setting his quill down.

“The traitor Ned Stark is ready to confess his treason in front of the people.”

Joffrey looked rather surprised. He thought it would take at least another day for Varys to convince him.

“Very well.” He said standing up from his desk and stretching a bit. “Tell them that I will be there shortly.” 

The servant then bowed their head before exiting the room. Joffrey then made his way to the cupboard and changed out of his loose fitting shirt into something more “kingly”. He wore a golden doublet on top of a white silk shirt and matching breeches. He then put a black capelet over his left shoulder and a dirk at his right hip.

He made his way out of the red keep escorted by his kingsguard. They walked until they were in front of the steps of the great Sept of Baelor. His mother and betrothed were standing at the highest platform. With the small council members spread out on a lower one surrounded by gold cloaks. The high septon had also come to hear the northern lords “Confession”. As Joffrey stood there his mother and council members waited with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. To his right he locked eyes with Sansa who gave him a small smile and nod to which he returned. Just then the gold cloaks started to come out of the building escorting the old wolf.

Joffrey inwardly sighed “let’s get this theater over with.”

Joffrey stood and watched as the fallen northern lord was dragged by two gold cloaks through the crowd. The citizens screamed curses upon his name among them scum and traitor. They threw trash and rotten vegetables at him as he was forced to the stage. After coming through the crowd he was placed on the lower stage on the steps of the great Sept. Joffrey looked to his right and could see Sansa giving him an encouraging smile. Eddard looked out onto the crowd and then began to speak.

“I am Eddard Stark, lord of Winterfell and hand of the king.” He looked reluctant and struggled to keep speaking. He turned his head to gaze at his daughter who gave him an encouraging nod. 

“I come before you to confess my treason in the sights of gods and men. I betrayed the faith of my king and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to defend and to protect his children, but before his blood was cold, I plotted to murder his son and seize the throne for myself.”

Soon the crowd became outraged again screaming curses at the former hand. A rock suddenly flew out of the crowd and struck Eddard’s face.  The lord became staggered and discombobulated, requiring the hound to keep him steady.  He continued after regaining his senses.

“Let the high Septon and Baelor the blessed bear witness to what I say, Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the iron throne. By the grace of all the goods and seven kingdoms and protector of the realm.” He said looking like he was ready to spit bile from just saying the words.

The crowd erupted chanting for the traitor to be executed. Grand maester Pycelle then spoke up to the outraged mob.

“As we sin so do we suffer this man has confessed his crimes, in sight of gods and men. The gods are just, but beloved Baelor taught us they can also be merciful. What is to be done with this traitor, your grace?” He asked, turning toward the king.

The crowd continued with their curses and demanded execution shouting death over and over. Joffrey then walked away from his betrothed and mother and made his way down to the lower platform. After standing equally to his attempted usurper he looked him over up and down as the small council looked on anxiously. The crowd continued with their demand for blood. Joffrey then turned and faced the crowd holding both arms up and making them quiet.

“This man attempted to steal my throne and keep me from my birthright.” He spoke out, the crowd becoming more furious and Eddard looked disgusted. “Any normal man would be facing the executioner's block for such actions, and not only him but his whole family would suffer for such violations.” He said looking Eddard in the eye who grew visibly nervous for the safety of his two daughters, while the crowd cheered on. 

“But I ask you, is this any normal man?”

The citizens became confused, and quieted down and not only them, the small council looked confused as the young king spoke.

“Have you all forgotten of the mad king? Of those who suffered in the firestorm of his reign in this very city.” He spoke out his voice filled with passion. “I ask you, who were the heroes who saved us from such cruelty? Who fought not for ambition but to release their people from the yoke of tyranny.”

Murmurs and whispering could be heard among the now silent crowd. Who had become captivated by the youth’s charisma.

“If you have forgotten, allow me to remind you, it was this man.” He said gesturing to the still bleeding north lord. “So what do we do with heroes who have fallen?” He said as all eyes were drawn to him.”Do we simply cut them down like any other and cast them away?” 

The crowd remained silent waiting for their new king's response.

“No!” He shouted, his voice filled with conviction. “We give them the chance to repent and stand back up!” 

He walks up beside Ned Stark standing next to him.

“I shall allow him to take the black and continue to serve and protect the realm he once saved.” He said, placing his hand on the old wolf’s shoulder who looked at him with clear disdain. He turned out towards the crowd and smiled “Is this fair, my citizens? Is this just?”

The crowd then broke out into applause and cheers for the young king's justice. He looked up and so his future wife smiled and nodded, thanking him for his mercy. His mother looked at him annoyed but satisfied, while Varys looked relieved. Guards approached and attempted to take Ned into custody and send him to the wall, but Joffrey stopped them.

“Our fallen hero requires treatment.” He said before turning to Pycelle. “Grand Maester see to his injuries.” Eddard looked as confused as his small council members before Joffrey turned to the Lannister guards.

“Escort Lord Stark to his former chambers. Make sure he remains bound in irons and under guard.” The guards bowed their heads and escorted the disgraced northern lord from the platform.

[Cut to the hand of the king’s chambers]

Ned Stark sat at a table his head wrapped in gauze and his wounds cleaned and treated. In front of him was a warm meal of roasted chicken and empty cup. His arms and legs were still bound in irons limiting his movements. The entire building was surrounded by soldiers and two armed guards watched the door. Ned was beginning to wonder why he was being treated with such care. He had expected to be shipped right to the wall in a cart once he had confessed, but the young false king had interceded. As he continued to wonder what game the blonde little twat was playing, that's when the very same blonde little twat entered the room.

“Lord Stark.” He said respectfully. “We need to talk.”

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