A song of Fire and Blood

Chapter 64: A City of Lions and Towers

298 AC - Kingslanding

The royal gardens were in bloom, their hedges trimmed to perfection, their fountains singing softly as water trickled from the mouths of stone lions. The scent of roses, jasmine, and freshly cut grass filled the warm afternoon air. Queen Ceryse walked with Joffrey beneath the arching trellises, the golden light of the sun painting their path in dappled shadow.

Joffrey was dressed in a crimson doublet embroidered with golden lions, a dagger of Lannister steel at his belt. He strode with the confidence of a man who believed himself untouchable, his hands clasped behind his back, his head held high. Ceryse followed beside him in a flowing gown of deep red and gold, her golden hair curled and pinned with small rubies. She was the picture of a perfect queen—elegant, poised, and endlessly agreeable.

Joffrey smirked as he plucked a rose from a nearby bush, twirling it in his fingers. "Grandfather scolded me today," he said, his tone half amused, half resentful.

Ceryse tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes wide with interest. "Did he, Your Grace? What for?"

Joffrey's smirk widened. "For daring to defend my own city," he said with mock outrage. "I told him I had ordered the Alchemists to prepare wildfire to burn our enemies, but he called me reckless. Reckless!" He tossed the rose aside, his expression souring. "As if I need his approval. I am the king!"

"Of course you are, Your Grace," Ceryse said, her voice soft and admiring. "And the greatest king the realm has ever known."

Joffrey beamed at the compliment, his frustration melting away as he turned to look at her.

"That's why I must be prepared," he continued. "If my grandfather had his way, he'd have me hiding behind the walls while the city burns. But I won't be like him, hiding in his chamber writing letters while our enemies march upon us. No, I'll be in the streets, leading my men, cutting down traitors with my own sword!"

Ceryse gasped, her hands clasping together as if she were overwhelmed by the thought. "That is so brave, Your Grace. The people must love you for your courage."

"They do," Joffrey said smugly. "They cheered for me the last time I rode through the city, you know. I heard them with my own ears."

Ceryse nodded eagerly. "How could they not? You are strong, wise, and just. The very image of a true king."

Joffrey studied her for a moment, his violet eyes gleaming with approval. "You understand me better than anyone, Ceryse."

She smiled sweetly. "It is my duty as your queen, my love."

Joffrey grinned, stepping closer to her. His gaze flicked over her form, taking in every detail of her flawless beauty. "And a beautiful queen at that," he murmured. "A queen fit for a king like me."

Ceryse blushed, lowering her eyes demurely. "You flatter me, Your Grace."

Joffrey leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And when we are wed, you shall do more than just blush."

Ceryse met his gaze, her smile never faltering. "Whatever pleases my king."

Joffrey laughed, pleased beyond measure. He took her hand and kissed it, then pulled her close, his fingers tracing along the curve of her waist.

"I'll make sure we have a wedding the world will never forget," he promised. "And when the night comes… well, you shall see what it means to be mine."

Ceryse smiled sweetly, resting a hand against his chest. "I await that night with bated breath, my king."

Elsewhere in the city, Tyrion Lannister stood atop the walls of King's Landing, surveying the work below. Laborers hauled stone and mortar, reforging the city's defenses after the siege that had nearly shattered them.

Beside him stood Ser Bronn, now the commander of the City Watch.

"2 thousand men," Bronn muttered. "Not near enough if half the realm decides to march on us."

"It never is," Tyrion agreed. "But a well-fortified city can withstand an army twice its size. If we can't have numbers, we'll have to be clever."

Bronn smirked. "I like clever."

Tyrion nodded, watching the work continue. "We need more grain, more arms, more men. If the Reach lords decide they've had enough of us, we'll be in trouble."

Bronn shrugged. "They're still here, aren't they? Thirty thousand of them. As long as they're eating our food, they're our problem and not Aerion Targaryen's."

Tyrion sighed. "For now."

Lord Tywin sat in his private study, candlelight flickering over the many letters spread across his desk. Reports from his spies, letters from his bannermen, calculations of supplies and provisions.

He read each one with a cold, analytical gaze.

The bad news was expected.

Half of the Crownlands are lost to us.

As he had feared, the houses of Massey, Bar Emmon, Sunglass, Crabb, and Farring had bent the knee to Aerion Targaryen. The young dragon now ruled from Dragonstone, his forces growing daily.

But there was good news as well.

Baelish had returned. The negotiations with the Reach were completed. The Vale would follow, once Littlefinger secured his marriage to Lysa Arryn.

And Leyton Hightower, though ambitious, understood his limits. He would not rise against the Lannisters yet.

Tywin allowed himself a small moment of satisfaction. He was outnumbered in the city, but he still held the true power.

For now.

299 AC - Kingslanding

The wedding was a grand affair, a spectacle of gold and crimson. The Sept of Baelor shone with hundreds of candles, the light catching on the polished marble and stained-glass windows.

Joffrey stood tall in his regal attire, a new Valyrian steel sword at his side—the reforged remains of the Stark sword, Ice. He smirked as he held it up for all to see.

"A finer blade than my uncle's," he sneered, eyeing Tyrion. "Pity I couldn't give you a proper one, dear uncle. But then, what use does a dwarf have for a sword?"

The lords and ladies in attendance chuckled, though some shifted uncomfortably.

Ceryse was radiant in her wedding gown, her golden locks curled and pinned with delicate rubies. She moved with the grace of a queen, her demeanor perfect, her smile practiced.

When it came time to say their vows, Joffrey grinned as he took her hands in his.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love," he said, smirking.

"And with my love, I pledge my life," Ceryse replied, her voice soft and sweet.

The ceremony ended to great applause. The bells of King's Landing rang out, the feast began, and the city celebrated the union of its king and queen.

But elsewhere, beyond the walls of the Red Keep, the world moved against them. And war was coming.