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The Young Lion Act 2 Ch 1
🕑 Added 2025-11-10 23:15:00 +0000 UTCDisclaimer: Just in case nobody realized I don’t own nor do I claim ownership of Game of Thrones, all characters and worlds belong to their real world respective owners. I’m just having some fun, that's all.
The Young Lion
Act 2 Ch 1: The Kings New Council
Inside the Red Keep’s Small Council Chambers which was often a den for conspiracies and plans, now buzzed with a different type of tension. Six weeks had passed since the King’s public execution, six weeks since the bleeding star soared across their city’s sky, a fiery scar that etched itself inside Joffrey’s mind. He sat at the head of the polished rectangular oak table, his bearing straighter with eyes as sharp as any king who sat there before him, with the last traces of the soft petulant prince burned away by the vision of the chained horror in the realm beyond men.
Slowly his eyes swept across the various faces assembled at his table. Grand Maester Pycelle, his ridiculously long beard that flowed like a waterfall, remained hunched over his hands clasped patiently on his lap. Ser Barristan, the shining example of knighthood chivalry, occupied his old seat of the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard. Varys, the Spider, sat quietly observing everyone from his seat with his usual placid smile across his face. Lark Distar, his Master of Trade, went over documents with his sharp intelligent eyes assessing every variable of his Guild’s trade routes.
And now there were a few new additions.
Ser Jacelyn the one handed knight, sat opposite of Ser Barristan his scarred face holding its usual gruff disposition, with his single hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He was adorned in the standard black and gold armor of the Royal Guard, a distinct contrast to the rest of the various councilors who were dressed in exotic finery of Westeros noblemen. Joffrey had named him his Master of Law giving him distinct authority over the King’s army that was second only to the King himself. His appointment was met with more than one raised eyebrow though no one was brave enough to voice their misgivings to either of the men.
Next to Jacelyn was Sansa Stark, who sat nervously with her hands clenched tightly in her lap, her eyes wide as she switched from one stern face to the next. She was dressed in a fine deep blue gown, a stark contrast to the red and gold colors of lannisters that used to saturate his halls. Though reluctant to attend, Joffrey was incessant on her joining them, going so far as to refuse to start without her. He did his best to soothe her worries, always responding with the same two words.
“You’ll learn.”
And finally at the far end of the table sat the newest member of the council the former whore Ros. Her hair was red and fiery, more brazen than Sansa’s soft Tully auburn red, and was pulled back into a respectful bun.She wore a gown of rich emerald green that was both simple yet elegant, a stark difference from the sheer gowns of her last profession. Her eyes however remained the same. A shrewd predator searching for a man’s weakness and the same unflinching resolve that had caught his attention to begin with.
[Flashback]
A few weeks back after Petyr Baelish’s embezzlement came to light, Joffrey had been quick to respond. He ordered his soldiers to seize every one of the viper’s properties so they could be sold to make up the difference in their missing funds. It had been a rather chaotic scene when the Royal Guards, the King’s new attack dogs dressed in their intimidating black steel segmented armor arrived at Littlefinger’s former sprawling properties.
The brothels themselves had been a major point of focus for the new king. His guards hardened by his grace’s rigorous selection process moved seamlessly and with brutal efficiency. Seizing ledgers, inventory, and anything that could possibly be of any value. That's when Ros had appeared. According to his men she appeared in a flash of red, standing defiantly before Littlefinger’s main establishment.
“Stop this!” she yelled. Her surprisingly strong voice cutting through Royal Guards rushed movement making them pause. She planted her feet into the ground and crossed her arms staring down the dark armored sentinels. “These women have nothing to do with Lord Baelish’s crimes. They are as much a victim as everyone else.”
The guards who were unaccustomed to being questioned hesitated glancing toward their commanding officer.
“I demand an audience with the king!” She continued her back straight and chin high. “These actions are unjust!”
Joffrey had received the report from Jacelyn later that afternoon and had honestly become intrigued. A whore from the north with the gal to challenge his Royal Guards? He gave the order to have her brought to him.
He sat on his throne awaiting her arrival with the exception of his kingsguard and over twenty of his Sabers; the meeting was exclusively between him and the harlot. Slowly the large oak doors opened and a red haired mature beauty escorted by two of his soldiers made her way inside.
Despite her bravado earlier Ros seemed a little overwhelmed by the sheer scale and gothic architecture of the throne room which the king had remodeled from his father’s ridiculous hunting tapestries As they approached the throne both Royal Guards dropped to one knee before dais with Ros following suit. Slowly her eyes looked up and locked with his displaying defiance and willpower.
“You interfered with my Royal Guards performing their duty,” His voice calm but cold and his face an impassive mask. “They were seizing the property of a traitor at my command. Are you the viper’s accomplice?”
“N-no, your grace,” she stuttered clearly nervous, but managed to get her voice steady and under control. “Lord Baelish might have been a snake, but these women are not. They were merely using the only tools at their disposal to survive. To punish them for that would be purely unjust.”
“Unjust?” He leaned forward slightly as he rested his head on his fist. “You dare speak of justice? You are a common whore from the cold waste of the north and you dare speak to me on matters of injustice? Do you believe you and your “coworkers” are above the scope of the law?”
“Of course not, your grace.” She shook her head denying his words. “I merely ask for your consideration and mercy.”
Joffrey paused for a brief moment, Ros seeing her opportunity pressed her advantage.
“These brothels, these women…They are not the source of your anger.” She said slowly, picking her words carefully. “They were merely a front for the snakes' more nefarious underground activities. Activities I alone were privy to.”
Joffrey raised an eyebrow signaling with his gaze for her to continue.
“I merely request that you grant me authority over our former employers' brothels and you show leniency for women that had nowhere else to go.”
“And what will you give me in exchange?” Joffrey asked, a certain glimmer in his eye. “If I felt inclined to grant your request?”
Without skipping a beat Ros looked up from the floor and locked eyes with the king.
“I will find every coin that Lord Baelish stole,” her voice was firm and confident. “Every last one. Give me a month and I will find your gold, and if I fail do with me as you wish.”
He generally considered it. Something in the woman’s eyes spoke of unflinching certainty she would find his money. But Joffrey wanted to up the ante.
“A fortnight,” he finally said, drawing a surprised expression from the whore and even his own kingsguard. “Be warned if you fail not only you but all of the women of the establishments will be punished alongside you. Though if you succeed you have my word these establishments and the women they employ will be yours. Do you accept?”
The woman hesitated for only a moment before looking him in the eye with unflinching resolve. “I do, your grace.” She said as she bowed her head.
Less than five days later she returned. Not only with the unearthed stock piles of Littlefinger’s hidden gold, but she also presented him with something that was priceless. A meticulous detailed set of hidden ledgers that revealed not just the snake's illicit activities, but also the names, dates, and requests of those that aided and abetted him.
The documents were a goldmine, a web of corruption that stretched beyond the city but into most of the kingdoms as well. The king had been true to his word, immediately granting her dominion over all of Littlefinger’s former brothels, but not without a few conditions.
Almost immediately he enacted new stricter laws on child exploitation raising the age of consent and harsher punishments of abusing children along and those that aid and abet them. Ros surprisingly embraced these new reforms agreeing with the king vehemently in protecting children. She worked tirelessly, her mind for business even sharper than her former employer.
Under her new management profits soared even higher than before even with the new restrictions. Seeing the growing business and impressed with the woman’s business ingenuity approached her with an offer.
The Crown would take over ownership of the brothels and the Street of Silk itself, which would be renamed King’s Landing Red Light District. With the Crown as the owners it ensured the brothel’s legal standing and protection all for a measly annual income tax of twenty percent.
Ros would be named the new Pleasure District Overseer granting her control over the business day to day operations. The Crown would also provide protection, healthcare, and structural repair for all of her establishments. She eventually accepted and was named the new Master of Coin afterward, bestowing Littlefinger's former lands in the Vale to her along with a noble title.
[Flashback End]
Though not everyone had been happy with the whore’s promotion. Murmurs of discontent among his court were loud and annoying but the King’s will was absolute. But as usual the Grand Maester felt the need to express his own consistently annoying opinion.
“Y-Your grace, this is outrageous!” Grand Maester Pycelle stampered. “With all due respect the small council is no place for a whore! A competent whore I grant you but a whore nonetheless! It sets a bad precedent.’
“I agree, Grand Maester,” the young king replied, his tone devoid of emotion. “And the precedent is that competence and efficiency shall be rewarded in my court, not blood or birthrights.” His gaze swept across the wooden table looking all of his councilors in the eye lingering on Sansa for a brief moment. “The realm is currently engulfed in war and the crown is millions in debt. We require results not sentiments.”
Varys chuckled at Joffrey’s words, the Master of Whispers offering his support.
“The king speaks with wisdom, Grand Maester. Besides, Lady Ros has already proven how remarkably resourceful she can be.”
Ros said nothing but gave the eunuch and the king a polite nod while she continued with her report.
“Your grace while Lord Baelish’s ledgers have proven helpful the extensive intricacies of his network of shell companies is staggering. And although we’ve recovered around seventy percent of the misplaced gold, the remaining thirty remains elusive.”
“Elusive?” He raised a brow. “Are you saying the last thirty will remain lost to us?”
“Not lost so much as well hidden and deeply.” Her voice held a certain professional confidence. “The snake’s investments were often tied together with certain highborn families. Unraveling those webs takes time but I assure you I will find it, it's only a matter of time.”
He nodded approvingly.
“Come to me for anything you might need,” he said to which she tilted her head. He then turned his head to the second newest member, his Master of War. “Ser Jacelyn,” he said sternly drawing the one handed knight’s attention from his documents. “Report on the Royal Guard’s deployment, readiness, and our new recruits selection.”
“Your grace,” Jacelyn's voice was even but direct. “The Royal Guard patrols the city with pure efficiency. Crime rates have lowered, and their training continues six hours a day, everyday. We’ve incorporated those new formations you devised into our daily training. And I can say with great confidence that they’ll be prepared to be deployed at a moment's notice.”
Good,” Joffrey nodded his head with a sense of satisfaction in his tone. “What of the new batch?”
“They are progressing steadily, your grace.” He said as he flipped through his parchment. “It seems every able bodied youth in Flea Bottom has turned up for the chance to join their ranks. They seem much more determined than the first batch even with your increased parameters.”
Jacelyn was referring to the king increasing his hell week section from eight weeks into twelve with the basic training offering more specialized training now that he didn’t face any outside distractions within the city.
This news brought a smile to the young king’s face. The Royal Guard, his personal army, was more than just a bunch of peasants pushing sharp sticks. They were an extension of his will, forged in the fire of his modern military knowledge. He had taken the hungry, desperate, disenfranchised swine from Flea Bottom, and offered them purpose, discipline, and more than anything a family and home.
The eight weeks of hellish training had weeded out the weak and unworthy, leaving behind two thousand utterly devoted soldiers, branded by his mark and adorned in the advanced armor of his Industrial Sector. Now with the new batch and the numbers it was showing Joffrey was certain he could establish his first official Legion of his new army.
Joffrey then turned his attention to his Master of Trade.
“Master Distar,” He said slowly, addressing Lord Lark. “The blockade any changes I should know of?”
Lark as usual meticulously consulted one of the small scrolls he’d brought with him.
“The Tyrell fleet remains entrenched just off the coast of Dragonstone, Your Grace. Their blockade is tight and while some food prices in the city continue to climb albeit slowly thanks to your and Lady Ros efforts. But it’s a temporary fix, Your Grace. We won’t be able to sustain these methods indefinitely without something giving.”
“And what of the Tyrells themselves?” The King asked, looking around the room. “Are they still pledged to my treacherous uncle?”
“Firmly, Your Grace.” Varys answered his eyes, giving hints at the vastness of information he possessed. “Mace Tyrell sees his daughter as a queen. And with Renly’s army swelled by the Reaches forces, It now stands as the largest force in the Realm. Though they do seem to move albeit slowly.”
“What of my uncle Stannis?”
“Still brooding on dragonstone with his onion knight and red witch my birds tell me,” he replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Now he seems to be spending his days writing letters and sending ravens. Denouncing your parentage, and threatening all the treacherous Lords with fire and death. His forces are minor but his resolve is firm.”
“What of Robb?” Sansa asked, speaking up for the first time.
“Your brother continues to outmaneuver Lord Tywin, My Lady.” Answered Jacelyn with a hint of respect for Robb’s tactical mind. “He continues to hold Ser Jaime hostage while forcing the Lannister forces on to the backfoot. Lord Tywin is formidable, but your brother has proven to be a strategic genius.”
Sansa didn’t know how to react to the news of her brother's brilliant war plans. On one hand he was her brother and she loved him and wanted him and everyone else safe. On the other he was fighting the grandfather of her future husband.
“And the Vale?” The king asked, letting his eyes wander to Sansa’s again.
“Lysa Arryn after news of Littlefinger’s death reached her via your raven, Your Grace, Has declared the Eyrie its own kingdom once again. Naming Robin Arryn King of the Vale. Though she has begun mobilizing their army they have yet to make a move.”
“Have your little birds keep an eye on them and let me know the second the situation changes.”
Varys bowed his head before acting as though he just remembered something important.
“Speaking of birds, Your Grace, mine sang the most interesting one the other day.” He said acting coy.
“Oh? Let’s hear it.”
“Apprently Robb Stark has sent his foster brother Theon Greyjoy to the Iron Islands on a diplomatic mission.”
Joffrey pretended to be surprised.
“Is that so? Do you believe that Balon’s forces will move to support Robb’s army?”
“Difficult to say, Your Grace.” Varys contemplated. “Balon is a vulture who usually chooses the easiest path to quick victory. Iron Born, always preferred victims to an actual fight. One thing’s for sure Balon will soon make a move to what end I do not know.”
The young king absorbed the information so far everything was playing out like it did in the original books with the exception of the Vale’s Rebellion. Soon brother would murder brother, the Kraken will betray the wolf, and the entire Realm will bleed. And what none of these egocentric wannabe rulers didn’t know was that the true threat lurked beyond the Wall, unseen and unheard by any but him.
It’s been weeks and still the memory of that wretched abomination and its chilling blue eyes sent a chill down his spine. The war needed to end soon otherwise they’d be left too weak to protect themselves from the real enemy. Joffrey then turned his attention to Sansa.
“Sansa,” Joffrey began softening his tone considerably. “This is your third Small Council meeting. What are your thoughts on the state of the Capital? Have you seen anything we might have missed?”
A ripple of surprise went through the Council Members. Pycelle looked into his cup, Varys smiled knowing Joffrey’s intent. Ros silently encouraged Sansa with a smile. Sansa completely caught off guard felt like a fish out of water, flushing a delicate shade of pink. But Joffrey saw potential, potential that others had either dismissed or ignored, so with a delicate nod she urged her to continue. So after taking a deep breath she finally spoke.
“Your Grace…I have watched the small folk. They are hungry, yes, but more than that they’re afraid. They fear the war, they fear the coming winter but what's more…They fear us.” She then gestured to the small council members. “They only see the castles and our titles…Beings far outside their daily struggles.”
“Pfft,” Pycelle scoffed. “That is the nature of commoners, My Lady, simple creatures unable to see five feet ahead of them.”
Joffrey immediately stared daggers at the old man who wisely fell silent. Sansa slowly continued gaining confidence with Joffrey’s support.
“The Royal guards have done excellent work with providing security and the breadlines. But the people need more than just food and water. They need a mission, they need a purpose, they need hope. They need to feel like they have a stake in the prosperity of this city.” She paused letting her words settle inside the stunned Council Members before she continued. “The Kingswood, Your Grace, It is vast teaming with game, why not open it for all hunters. Not for free for a small fee or for a portion of the game that they catch given to the Crown. It would feed families, provide exercise and instill a sense of ownership. Something the King’s grace extends to them as well, not just the nobles.”
A stunned silence fell over the Council Chamber. Pycelle was slack jawed, Varys smiled approvingly, Ser Jacelyn, a common birth man himself gave Sansa a nod. Ros gave a subtle smile. Joffrey however reacted with complete stoicism.
“An interesting suggestion, my lady. You believe these hunts would foster more loyalty by using a sense of belonging?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” She reaffirmed her position, her eyes holding conviction. “If the people feel that their king cares for them and their well-being, then they will stand for you. It’s not enough just to rule them. In times like this it's better to lead them to show them your way is the better way.”
Joffrey leaned back a proud subtle smile stretching across his face.
“Your words hold merit, My Lady, we shall discuss this idea further.” He then turned his head to the rest of his Council. “Was there anything any of you wished to discuss with me?”
Just as the Grand Maester was about to speak the heavy oak doors of the Small Council opened and a sudden hush fell over the councilors. A figure soon emerged, unmistakable even from a distance. He was clad in Lannister crimson and gold, the lion of Casterly Rock stood proudly on his chest, however small. Even with the custom made suit of armor it still seemed too big for the short stump, his armor clinking and clanging as he waddled over to the council table with confident short steps.
Tyrion the Imp of Casterly Rock had arrived.
He stopped just before the table, his gaze sweeping over the utterly silent room. A faint knowing smile grew across his face.
“Well well,” Tyrion's tone was deep, holding a tip to his tone. “It seems we’ve arrived just in time for the planning,” he looked back at his new friend/hired killer. “I do hope we’re not interrupting anything too important.”
All the council members had their own individual reactions, but for Joffrey stared straight into his dwarf uncle’s eyes, smiling internally.
“Finally,” he thought with a hint of relief.
Comments
Rogue67
Not really if you think about it. He didn't give her any truly valued lands that lords want like Harrenhal or something. He gave her Littlefinger's original lands his father earned in the Blackfyre war, lands so small they're barely 20 arches and that's why they're called the fingers and how Petyr got his nickname Littlefinger in the first place. They'll be more pissed off about the Master of Coin position which not to spoil anything will come up later on.
Zack
The promotion of a former whore, and owning brothels as royalty is frankly insane😭 Can definitely work around giving Ros authority, but a noble title?
Ekko
Everything develops as expected, which is good. Sansa's idea was pretty damn good, imho. I like how she shows the first signs of an actual ruler. Tyrion is back! I missed that Dwarf, one of my favorite characters
