The Young Lion

Act 1 Ch 16 Creating A Cohort

After Joffrey finished his business with his fledgling industrial sector he made his way back to the Red Keep. He had sent out messengers to Fleabottom to recruit any able-bodied man for his personal militia. There were only two requirements, one they had to be between the ages of seventeen to early twenties, and two they had to have no wives or children. As his recruiters made their way through the slums, Joffrey was engaging in his sword practice with Ser Barristan.

While it was called sword practice it was more of a one sided beating. Ser Barristan had decades of experience and was one of the best duelists of all time. Despite his time in the Marine Corps and his own experience at fighting he was nothing but a helpless child in front of the old kingsguard.

“Keep your guard up, your grace.” He would say, then whap Joffrey in his ribs with the flat of his blade. “No,not that far up!” Whap! “Move to the left.” Whap! “Now move back!” Whap! 

It went on like this for some time, by the time Barristan decided to call it a day Joffrey was a sweating mess on the training grounds. Covered in bumps and bruises he laid sprawled out on the grass breathing heavily. Barristan made his way over to his king and offered him his hand, which he took and helped him to his feet. After he was sitting and rehydrating with some water Barristan spoke up.

“You’re getting much better, your grace.” He said with a smile. “You have good instincts for swordplay.”

“Thanks,” He said, wiping his brow with a towel. “You’re a great instructor Barristan.”

Barristan was breathing slightly more heavily. He had been amazed by the young king's intuition. Whenever he showed him a sequence of strikes or techniques the young king could implement them almost immediately. Everytime they spared it was getting steadily more difficult for him to beat him. He estimated it would be a few years before Joffrey could defeat most seasoned knights. He marveled at what he could become in the future, possibly even better than his uncle Jaime.

“Well I think that’s enough for today.” Joffrey said, standing up wiping the sweat from his face. “I have other duties to attend to. Make sure you get a bath and be ready again tomorrow.” He said leaving the training yard and making his way to the baths.

After a nice long soak, did he get changed and make his way to his chamber to attend to the mountain of paperwork he knew was waiting for him. The reforms were making waves among the nobility, while some were adjusting, others were not so inclined to the change. He knew it would be long before he could implement his plan, but first he needed his opponents to make their move first. After stamping the last piece of parchment Joffrey turned in for the night the candlestick almost completely burned out.

[The next day]

After he finished his morning routine, Joffrey made his way to the newly established training grounds. They were the fields that kings landing usually held tourneys and other events. Joffrey had them remodeled for his new cohort's training regimen. It had crossed wooden posts and hay stands as practice dummies, a basic track and field for coordination and formation tactics. There were five pull up bar stands and he had Tobho mass produce the free weights that he was using at the Red Keep, for his new recruits to use. He even had him create hex bars and metal plates for strength training purposes. 

Joffrey arrived early in the morning to see his new recruits, his kingsguard accompanied him to keep him safe. He arrived at the stadium looking at the disorganized young men who stood before him. There were around six hundred men present that met his criteria, though he knew maybe half would make it through the selection process. They looked like a pack of stray dogs, starved and undisciplined. He would fall back on his old Marine corps training to break them down and build them back up with the ideas of brotherhood and camaraderie.  As he paced back and forth on the stage looking over the fidgeting dogs before him, then he chose to speak.

“So you all want to be a royal soldier?” He asked loudly for everyone in the stadium to hear him. “You believe yourselves worthy to carry a spear and fight in my name?”  

The riff raff flinched at his words looking at each other anxiously. Without missing a beat Joffrey continued.

“All of you have been overlooked your entire lives. Told that you were scum, worthless, and trash.” He said making eye contact with the young men. “And it has been true until now.”

All the men’s heads perked up at his words.

“I’m offering all of you a choice. If you make it through the selection you will have the chance to become part of something new. To become part of a brotherhood, a family!” He was pacing back and forth as he shouted out to the recruits.

“Those of you who cannot meet the standards, will be placed in areas more suited to your abilities. Though I warn any wimpy warriors out there once you join this family, you’re in for the next ten years. All of your needs will be met: food, housing, women, and all I ask in exchange is your loyalty and to perform your duties. So this is your last chance for those of you unsure to leave the training grounds now!” He shouted.

A few men made their way out of the arena but most stayed behind. Joffrey glossed over his new recruits before nodding his head to a servant. Then around ten castle servants made their way down the stadium steps and in front of the new recruits each carrying wooden crates. After arriving in front of the lines of men did the servants crack open the crates revealing what's inside. 

Inside the crates was training gear that each recruit would wear during the duration of their training. They were thick white doublets and matching breeches, all the men looked over the new attire with shocked faces. They were used to rags and loose fitting garbs but this was fine wool and looked elegant. For some reason it motivated the men that much more to join the king’s new men at arms. Which of course was Joffrey's plan, giving the poor a slight taste of the finer things and they will never want to go back to the scraps. After every man got a uniform and then put it on did Joffrey resume speaking.

“Now you will all be here everyday at dawn for training.” He looked over his men. “You will be on time, in uniform, and ready to practice. Your housing will be in tents that are currently being set up. Those that are late, or engaged in activity unbecoming of a royal soldier will be punished accordingly.” His voice let them know the implications of his threat. 

“Is that understood?!” He shouted.

“Yes, your grace!” The men shouted in return enthusiasm filled their faces.

“Good!” He said, smiling content. “I will see tomorrow at dawn, dismissed!”

The men were smiling at each other and walked towards the campsites getting set up. They would be sleeping in tents, on cots nearly twenty per tent. As they left Joffrey had the practice short swords, shields, and spears put into place for tomorrow’s training. He didn’t want them using real steel until they learned proper techniques and discipline; he didn't need his new recruits killing one another out of frustration like they did in the slums.

His knights had been confused why the king would want filth from the slums to fight for him but Joffrey knew better. He had no interest in any of the knights in the city, spoiled little shits that paraded around like peacocks despite never having seen actual battle. And for obvious reasons he couldn’t choose from the Lannister soldiers, or gold cloaks. He also knew that these scum that everyone overlooked had a ferocity to them that no soft summer boy could emulate no matter how hard they trained.

These men had to fight for everything that had since the moment they could walk. They have known nothing but struggle, pain, and hunger all their lives, and with that struggle they built a resilience like no other. All they really needed was a little direction and guidance and they had the potential to become a fighting force to be reckoned with. Plus everything good that they would have in their lives now would be at the grace of their young king and leader. He knew it would build an unshakable loyalty and that was ultimately what he wanted from his new cohort.

So when he looked up and saw the snickering faces of the gold cloaks laughing at the peasant trash thinking they were gonna be soldiers now, did Joffrey smile to himself.

“Laugh while you can, because you won’t be laughing for long.”