The Young Lion

Act 1 Ch 20 Fight In The Square

The group continued to travel throughout the city, Joffrey took the time to ask Sansa to pick out any dresses or gifts that interested her, and he would have them delivered to the Red Keep. Sansa walked down the streets with stars in her eyes, she looked at all the splendors of the city with enthusiasm and astonishment. She really was like a caged little bird, sheltered and told what to believe and what to think since the day she was born. Joffrey knew it was the mindset of the time period, but he personally could care less about some conservative ideology. From his perspective those that could lead have a duty to lead, and those that can’t should step aside for those able, regardless of what lies between their legs.

He planned to shape her into the queen he knew she could be, and to break her free from the idiotic and naive shackles her parents had placed on her. For now he would settle with fulfilling her childhood fantasy of a dashing young king, before pulling the wool from her eyes. As the group made their way through the food stalls that the commoners had put up near flea bottom, Joffrey had sensed something was wrong.

He could feel various eyes on his back and they had been following them for sometime through the twists and turns on their walk. Not being able to tell if they were simply spies sent by someone from the small council or just some pick pockets, he decided to lead the group to the city square, to better ascertain their numbers.

Joffrey turned left and began leading his group to the more open area, holding Sansa closer to him in case of trouble. He also fell back to be closer to their sworn shields who seemed to have picked up on the threat as well. The two men looked to opposite sides with stern faces trying to detect their stalkers. Sansa was completely oblivious to the apparent danger and just laid her head on to Joffrey’s broad shoulder as they walked close together.

As the group entered the square he led them back toward the large fountain, keeping their backs to it, and surveying the passing crowd. Sansa started to realize something was wrong and picked her head up and looked at Joffrey with a confused look.

“What's wrong?” She asked, confused by her fiance’s tension.

“We’re being followed.” He responded with a serious tone, all his charm and warmth gone from his voice.

Sansa then started to get startled, looking around with a nervous expression.

“Relax and stay beside me.” He said reassuringly, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I won’t let anyone harm you.”

Barristan and Sandor stood at the ready each beside their lieges, their hands steadily holding their sword hilts. Then a group of men began to emerge from the crowd before them. Their gazes were locked and stern. They wore brown boiled leather armor and each had a sword and dagger at their waists. After a minute of the group staring each other down as the crowds of citizens passed by, they made the first move.

The men drew their swords simultaneously as the hound and ser Barristan, then the two groups of men charged forward. The hound brought up his long sword and blocked an overhead stroke while punching the other man. Ser Barristan deflected a thrust from one of the men, while side-steeping the other’s sloppy swing. He kicked the one man to the dirt who laid out on his back, before continuing his attack on the other.

Joffrey held Sansa behind him shielding her from any threat with his body. He paid close attention to the crowd who had spread out in shock, from the sudden violence. He watched to see if they were the only attackers or if there were more hiding in the crowd. As he waited he could see slight movement in the crowd. They were watching him and Sansa rather than their bodyguards fight like the rest of the crowd.

Suddenly three men made their way out of the crowd and charged at the pair from the right. Joffrey quickly pushed her back and drew his sword. With two hands he blocked the first man's swing with his blade, before punching him with a left hook. The man fell backward from the hit, spitting out a tooth as he fell. The other two undeterred continued their assault hacking and swinging at the young king who blocked and dodged.

Barristan looked back as his blade was locked with one of the assailants, and could see his king in danger. He quickly renewed his attack, breaking the deadlock with the younger foe. When he went for another swing at the old knight’s neck, Barristan forced it down before driving it into the man’s chest. The man screamed in pain, gurgling as blood spewed from his mouth, before he removed his sword and pushed the dying man into the dirt. When he turned to go help his young king, the other attacker had gotten up and blocked his path. Barristan looked frustrated regretting not having brought more guards with them.

The hound wasn’t faring any better, his opponents charged at him with coordinated attacks, one after the other. The hound stepped back to avoid one’s thrust, then swung down with a one handed attack which the other blocked. The hound’s swordplay was much less refined than Barristan's, relying more on his strength and size rather than proper technique. When he parried one of their thrust he punched the attacker with his swords pommel. The man fell to the ground, his nose broken and unconscious. 

With one down the other tried to continue his attack, but without his partner the hound made quick work of him. The man went for a two handed slash, which the hound blocked with one hand, before twisting and forcing the blade out of the man’s hand with his sheer strength. Unarmed the man attempted to yield but before he could get a word out the hound cut the man’s skull in half. He fell to the dirt, chunks of his brain spilling out and wetting the dry stones. As he went to help his king and his lady, his opponent from earlier had woken up and resumed their duel halting his approach.

While their sworn shields dealt with the first four attackers, Joffrey faced another three that had sneaked past them using the crowd as cover. He clashed steel with each of them, pushing them back and protecting Sansa who laid behind him. He quickly realized that the men were holding back and pulling back on their strikes. Clearly that had not been sent for him, everytime he got tangled up with one of their blades, the other two would attempt to get past him. Forcing him to push them away and backtrack to keep her safe. 

“So they are here for her.” He thought with anger having a good idea who was behind this attack.

Though he also smiled internally, if they were pulling back because of orders not to harm him that made his job a lot easier. When one came with an overhead strike, Joffrey brought his sword up, blocking it horizontally. He then struck the top of the blade with both hands forcing it down. While the man was still leaning over, he pulled out his dagger with his left hand and drove it into the man’s eye socket.

The man had a shocked expression on his face, breathing out labored gasps of pain before falling back dead. Joffrey then stood tall, rotating his sword with his wrist before bringing it up into a ready stance, his face stoic and emotionless. Sansa continued to cower and cry behind him while curled up in a ball, but her eyes began to shine with hope after seeing him kill one of the men.

The remaining two men's faces changed from shock to cold anger, the air around them changing. They brought their swords up and simultaneously moved forward at the same time as Joffrey who met them in the middle. Their blades crashed against each other, their strikes were far more heavy and direct than before. He could tell that they had gotten serious after the death of their compatriot. 

They slashed and hacked at Joffrey who sidestepped and avoided their strikes, their focus now was entirely on him instead of Sansa. Which he was happy about, he didn’t think he could continue to protect her while fighting them simultaneously. The slashed and hacked at Joffrey who blocked and dodged on hairs breath. He was happy he had trained so much with Barristan in swordplay otherwise they would have taken him down already.

While blocking one of the man’s strikes, Joffrey kicked the other with a front kick while he ran up, sending his ass to the ground smacking his head off the pavement. He then focused his attention on the single opponent and resumed hacking and slashing at the man, trying to use his youth and superior conditioning to bridge the gap in experience. He spun, slashed, and hacked at different parts of the man’s body trying to force an opening and not giving him any initiative to counterattack. 

The man was forced to backtrack while blocking the volley of attacks from the young king. He had been taken by surprise by the sheer brutal aggression the young man displayed. His attacks were heavy and strong, and if he hadn’t focused on his grip he surely would have been disarmed by now. Though he could tell that the king was starting to grow tired from the onslaught. Once he tired he could knock him out and finish off the northern girl before escaping.

Joffrey was indeed growing tired, and unfortunately made the first mistake. He over extended when he went for a two handed thrust, which the man twisted his body out of the way then slashed down at the blade forcing it out of Joffrey’s hands. The man smirked, seeing that he won against the young king because of his inexperience. He then went for a slash to incapacitate the blonde little shit, but to his surprise the boy charged forward. He closed the distance in the blink of an eye, and grabbed ahold of both the man's wrists while his blade was in the air. The man looked confused by the sudden action, but also found he couldn’t free his arms from the young king's vice-like grip.

Joffrey, having lost both his weapons, had to fall back on his previous life’s marine corps training. Using his memories of his hand to hand combat in MCMAP’s program he held on tightly to the man’s raised hands. While the man looked confused and before he could react, Joffrey head butted the man’ nose snapping his head back. He then followed up with a knee to the groin, which made the man let go of his sword. Joffrey then wrapped the man’s head into a guillotine choke, before rolling backward fully mounting him. While the man was still stunned not understanding the sudden turn of events he looked into the boy king’s green eyes. 

They weren’t the eyes of a child or a spoiled noble brat. They were cold and empty like a bottomless sea, he had only ever seen those eyes in battle hardened veterans or mad men. There was no trace of anger, guilt, fear, or any other recognizable emotion in those eyes, just cold indifference like he was looking at a stone on the side of the road. He could only think one thing as Joffrey's hands gripped the sides of his head.

“Monster” He thought as Joffrey snapped his neck, twisting it at an irregular angle.

“Raaz! No!” The other man shouted.

He grabbed his sword and charged at the still kneeling Joffrey, desperately hacking at him with grief filled rage. Joffrey rolled backward avoiding the sloppy slashes and blocking them with his bracers. Eventually the man managed to slash his right shoulder making Joffrey yell in pain. As Joffrey held his arm and looked up at the man, he raised his blade high into the air. As he was about to bring it down on the defenseless king, A sword pierced the back of his skull and came out of his mouth. The man gurgled unrecognizable words before falling face first dead next to Joffrey. He looked up and saw the shining armor of his kingsguard Barristan.

“Are you alright my king?” He asked with concern offering his hand to him which Joffrey took.

“Yes. I’m fine.” He said as he held the bleeding cut on his shoulder. “It's just a scratch.”

He looked over and saw that Sandor was wrapping it up with the other two. He cut one's lower belly open, his intestines spilling out over the ground. Then when the other dropped his sword and held his hands up to surrender. The hound brought his sword up and split the man’s head in two like a watermelon. The three then gazed over at the last two remaining cut throats, who looked scared shitless now that their comrades all laid dead. They were paid to take out one little girl not to get slaughtered like pigs. They were ready to flee when they heard the young kings speak.

“Take at least one alive. I want to know who hired them.” He said.

As they backed up frightened as the large man and old knight began to approach them, suddenly a mob of commoners swarmed them. Enraged men and women of common birth swarmed the two men before they could react. Pulling them to the ground they piled on the two stomping and beating them as they screamed in agony. Joffrey, Barristan, and the hound watched on with shocked expressions as the crowd tore the men apart with their bare hands. It reminded Joffrey of a TV show of his previous world involving a zombie apocalypse and the horde ripping a man to pieces. 

“Or not.” He thought before he turned his attention back to the still curled up Stark girl who was crying in fear.

“Are you alright my lady?” He asked with a reassuring smile holding out his hand.

Sansa looked up at him with teary eyes and hesitantly reached for his hand.

“Y-yes I’m fine.” She said with a sad tone.

To her surprise Joffrey then scooped her up and held her in a princess carry. 

“It's ok, you’re safe now.” He said reassuringly as she looked at him with shock.

She then began to tear up again, before burying her face in Joffrey's broad chest. Terrified over the recent events. Joffrey just held her tightly ignoring the pain and blood leaking from his shallow cut. 

“Let's get back to the castle, send someone to collect the bodies when we return.” He shouted to his bodyguards before turning and leading the way back to the Red Keep. The two men wiped off their blades and sheathed their swords, then followed behind their king, who carried his fiancee all the way back to the castle.