The Young Lion

Act 1 Ch 6 Meeting An Old Smith

As Joffrey and his armed escort rode down the streets of Kings landing the citizens stopped and stared as he rode by. They all knew Joffrey by reputation as a spoiled pompous prince of shit, but something about him had changed. He wore an aura befitting someone of royalty and had a new charm to him that drew everyone's eye. 

As they continued to ride they made their way to the Street of Steel where some of the best smiths worked. Joffrey arrived in front of a shop that held his interest, after dismounting his horse Joffrey and the hound made their way towards the smith shop entrance. He ordered his six guards to wait outside while he talked with the shop owner.

Pushing one of the swinging doors open Joffrey could hear the song of metal while the smith apprentices were hard at work. As he walked up to the middle of the shop Joffrey spoke out.

“Pardon me but I would like to speak with the owner of this shop.”

“Get out of here you damn brat!” An older man shouted without looking up from his work. “I got no time helping a brat with some stupid-” The old man's voice froze in his throat when he looked up and realized who he was talking to.

“My, my prince I’m so sorry I didn't know it was-” but before the old man could die from a heart attack Joffrey patted him on the shoulder.

“It's quite alright.” He said, giving him a kind smile. “I’m not executing you just for a simple mistake.”

The old man looked stunned. The crown prince was well known for his pompous haughty attitude, but the young man before him did not fit that description at all. 

“How may I be of service to my prince?” The old man asked with caution in his voice.

“I would like to discuss some matters with you if that would be alright.” He said reassuringly. “Do you have somewhere we could speak in private?”

“Of course my prince, right this way.” He said, leading Joffrey and the hound through the forge.

Joffrey couldn't help but watch the young men at work in the shop. They were hammering away at items and weapons that they themselves would never use. If all went according to his plans he could put these men to much better use. As they made their way through the shop they came to a staircase which led to the old man's living quarters. As they got to the top of the stair Joffrey turned to the hound.

“Wait outside and guard the door.” He commanded.

“But my prince, what if he tries to harm you?” Sandor question

“I think I can protect myself from one old man, Sandor.” He said with a smile amused at the man's concerns.

“What if the queen finds out?”

“I wont tell her if you don’t. Just wait outside. I want to talk to him alone and without him ready to shit himself.” He said, pointing over his shoulder at the quivering old man.

The hound bowed his head and did as he was instructed. While the two made their way into the room. The old man seemed embarrassed at the state of his living quarter he had never had guests over let alone royalty.

“I’m sorry about the mess I can clean up som-” but before the old man could finish Joffrey raised his hand.

“It's quite alright. I couldn't care less about some clutter.” He said dusting off a chair before sitting in it. He then gestured for the man to sit across from him.

After the man sat down Joffrey pulled out parchments. As he unfolded the paper it showed the blueprints to the Bessemer process that he wanted to show Robert. Joffrey watched the old man's reactions as he looked over the blueprints. He went from curious, to stunned, then to excited.

“My prince, where did you get these!?” He asked, shooting to his feet with his eyes wide and filled with stars.

“I made them..” He said after a moment of pause.

The old man looked shocked, his legs seemed to give and needed to sit back down.

“You?” 

“Yes me.” he responded with a sly smile.

“Brilliant” that was the only word the old smith could think looking at the young man sitting across from him.

“Was this truly the spoiled, petty prince everyone knew? Had he been hiding his true nature this whole time?” He wondered to himself.

“Tell me what your name is?” Joffrey asked with a stoic expression.

“My prince, my name is Tobho Mott.” The old man said humbly.

“Well then Tobho tell me, what do you think of these designs?” He asked with a curious tone.

“I think this is brilliant, no brilliant doesn’t even cover it, this is a groundbreaking discovery.” He said with an excited tone.

“Oh? Please elaborate.” He asked with a stoic expression.

“With this equipment one could double both the amount and quality of steel and in less than half an hour at that!”

A smile broke out on Joffrey's face after hearing the man’s explanation. Despite the man’s commoner origins he was well learned. He understood at a glance the significance and the prospect the Bessemer process possessed.

“That is correct Tobho.”

“My prince, do you have any other designs?”

He tapped his finger against the armrest for a moment before answering.

“A few.”

The old smith shot to his feet once again with excitement, but before he could ask a single of the millions of questions in his head, Joffrey raised his hand for him to stop.

“I will reveal them to you when the time is right. For now I have a project I want you to accomplish.” He said as he pulled at more folded up parchments.

The old smith looked like a kid about to receive a brand new toy. If it was one thing Tobho loved, it was to create. That was one of the reasons why he became a smith and his work stood leagues above anyone else’s. Though it wasn’t just smithing that won his heart it was engineering in general that he loved. To take something from nothing and to make it into something beautiful was the essence of his being.

Joffrey began to extend his hand to hand over the parchment to the smith. As the smith reached to take them, that's when Joffrey spoke.

“There are conditions.” He said calmly.

“Of course there are.” The old man thought his enthusiasm was waning.

After all, if it's one thing he learned crawling his way up from Essos, it was that there was no such thing as a free meal.

“Please state your conditions my prince.” He actually said.

“We are going to form an industry in the future and your current establishment will be the bedrock we build it on. For the time being I want you to focus on two projects, the Baratheon press I just gave you, and this.” He said before handing the smith another paper with a design on it. 

The smith unfolded the document and found another strange design that appeared to be a furnace.

“What is it?”

“It's called a blast furnace and it will be essential for the Baratheon press to function at full capacity.”

“Really” he said looking over the blueprint with keen interest.

“Like I was saying the first condition is I want you to focus on creating these two projects first, can you do it?”

“Yes,” the smith replied without hesitation.

“How long will it take you?”

The old smith seemed to ponder this question for a minute.

“At least a month for one of them, my prince.” he said, looking Joffrey in the eye.

“Good,” he said, nodding his head in approval. It was faster than he anticipated.

“What are your other conditions?”

“Just one for now you’ll need to take credit for its creation.” He said in a dead serious tone.

“What why?” The old smith couldn’t understand why he would want the smith to take credit for something this magnificent.

“Because Tobho I'm surrounded by vipers at the moment, and I don’t want to give them a pretense to bite me.” He said with a dead serious tone.

Tobho was taken aback by the young prince's serious attitude but just shook his head that he understood.

“When the time comes I will explain, but for now I need you to keep your mouth shut, and do what you have always done. Create, can you do that?”

The old smith stood up from his chair standing proud before the youth.

“Of course my price!” he said excitedly, nearly saluting the future monarch.

“Good” Joffrey replied, nodding his head approving of the old smith's excitement.

“We can hammer out the details at a later date,” He extended his hand.

“Yes my prince.” He said, shaking his new patron's hand.

“Oh and when we're alone please just call me Joffrey, being called my prince all the time can be exhausting.” He said with a tired look.

“O-ok Joffrey.” He said hesitantly.

“Well I bid you good day Tobho Mott, I will be calling on you in the near future.” He said turning to leave.

“It would be my honor, my prince.”

Joffrey just gave the man a smile before turning and exiting the room.

The old man just slumped back into his seat, sweat rolling down his brow.

“That was the spoiled, self entitled prince” He thought, shaking his head as he looked at the door where the young prince had left. 

“That boy is going to shake the world to its core.”

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