The tree craves stillness but the wind will not cease; the child wishes to provide but the parent is no longer there.
King's Landing, The Red Keep.
Joffrey walked into the sickroom of his father, Robert Baratheon, with a dazed look in his eyes, passing by his teacher, Borin Storm, as he entered.
The other man seemed to have been chatting with King Robert for quite a while. Borin Storm sadly patted Joffrey on the shoulder, letting him go inside to keep the soon-to-pass His Majesty the King company.
Joffrey knelt by his father's bedside, tears streaming down his face, even though he knew he wasn't the original Joffrey.
But more than ten years of memories flooded into his heart, making it impossible for him to distinguish whether he was Former name of Aegon or Joffrey; he only knew that his father was leaving him forever.
"What are you crying for! What's there for a grown man to cry about! When I die, you'll be king!" Robert's heart was also filled with grief, yet he was still feigning strength.
At the thought of his imminent death, he wondered how his son would fare in the future. Would anyone else truly be good to him as he was? What if someone bullied him?
Robert kept his eyes closed, the tears at the corners of his eyes flowing down uncontrollably. He knew his days were numbered and that this was his final lesson for his son...
"My son, you must make good use of your teacher Borin Storm; he is a capable man. In truth, based on his achievements, I should have knighted him and legalized his bastard status long ago, but I wanted to save him for you. He is an upright man who knows how to repay kindness; as long as you show him a little favor, he will be utterly devoted to you."
"My son, you must listen to Eddard. After I am gone, he will be the highest authority. You called him uncle then; from now on, treat him as your uncle. He is much better than those two blood uncles of yours..."
"My son, I have said enough. I am going now; do not be sad. I am sorry I couldn't give you a strong and stable nation. After I leave, your situation will be even more dire than mine."
"That bastard Stannis actually hasn't returned yet! My son, you must be careful of Renly; he is too deeply entangled with the South. I am dying, and I fear Renly will cause trouble, and certain ministers will also revolt."
Even at this moment, Robert was still muttering about Stannis; in his heart, he had always felt he owed his younger brother.
A man's farewell is always hard to voice, but this was the last time. Robert looked at the son before him, a faint smile appearing as he said: "My son, remember: I have always loved you dearly. You will always be... always be my pride."
"Father, I will love you forever. You are the best father in this world."
"Hahaha, a man's farewell needs no more words. Go, call that fellow Eddard in for me."
Joffrey wiped the tears from his face, took a deep look at his father, and turned to walk out.
"Uncle, Father is calling for you."
Just as Eddard Stark, head bowed in sorrow, stepped across the threshold to go inside, he happened to pass by Joffrey who was walking out.
Eddard Stark gave Joffrey a nod of greeting. By now, Eddard was certain that Cersei's three children were all bastards of House Lannister; he didn't know how to face Joffrey, this nephew with whom he had a very good relationship.
While he was lost in thought, Joffrey whispered a sentence to him as he passed by—
"Uncle, the night is dark and full of terrors; you must watch your step."
Eddard Stark did not know the deeper meaning of these words at this moment, but he felt that Joffrey was hinting at something.
...
Eddard Stark entered the room and saw at a glance his good friend Robert Baratheon lying on the bed, at death's door.
Eddard's heart was filled with pain and conflict. He truly didn't know how to tell Robert the truth; several times he wanted to speak, but his mouth only opened without making a sound.
He thought to himself: Never mind, let this good friend of mine pass in peace, and I will handle the rest.
After all, if words like "Lady Sun's red mandarin duck bellyband is still hanging on that rogue's belt" were spoken, the already dying Robert might very well die instantly from a burst of rage causing his blood to flow backward.
"What is it, Ned, lost your tongue? Even lying on a sickbed, I'm much more handsome than you. Hahaha..."
"Ned, I..." Eddard Stark wanted to say something, his eyes red, but he didn't know how to say it.
Robert Baratheon immediately saw Ned's predicament and said with a smile—
"Enough, Ned, don't I know you? You simply don't know how to say nice things."
After saying this, Robert got to the point. He knew he likely wouldn't live long and could slip into a coma at any moment, so he suddenly became more talkative.
"Ned, I'll listen to you after all. I've decided not to hunt down those two Targaryen children anymore. It really is too shameful to raise a blade against two children."
"Ned, help my son. He already possesses the qualities to be a king. Help him, let him become a better king than I was."
Then Robert had Eddard Stark take paper and pen from the table; he was ready to dictate his final will.
"I'll speak, you write. Robert Baratheon, King of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm... bequeaths the throne to my eldest son and heir, Joffrey Baratheon. Until he comes of age, Eddard Stark, the hand of the king, shall serve as Regent to assist in governance until King Joffrey Baratheon attains his majority."
Hearing this, Eddard Stark seemed to understand the meaning of Joffrey's words. He was hinting that he should not modify the will.
But how did he know that he was planning to change Joffrey's name in the will to 'my rightful heir'?
Eddard knew that changing the will was very dishonorable, but for the sake of the justice and responsibility in his heart, he hesitated only for a moment before firmly writing down the words 'my rightful heir'. He would personally seek justice for his good friend Robert!
The will was finished. Eddard Stark called the others back in, sealing it under the gaze of Prince Joffrey, Grand Maester Pycelle, and the various ministers.
Afterward, the crowd turned and left again; they could see that King Robert had some private words to say to the Hand of the King alone.
"Ned, knowing you is the greatest luck of my life." Robert looked at Eddard Stark and said these words with total sincerity.
Eddard Stark finally couldn't hold it back anymore as he recalled the youthful days he had spent with Robert.
"Robert, my brother! Don't go, please. If you leave, what will I do!" Eddard Stark gripped Robert's hand tightly, sobbing uncontrollably.
At the thought of his good friend of many years dying, Eddard's heart twisted with pain. To hell with being Regent, he didn't care for it at all!
"Ned, my brother. All men must die, do not be so sad. If there is a next life, I still want to be your brother..."
"Ned, this time I'm not faking death, hahahaha..."
Seeing that His Majesty the King was beginning to lose consciousness, Grand Maester Pycelle slowly walked in. He took out a bottle of milk of the poppy and let the king drink it, so that Robert could die in his sleep without any pain.
...
In truth, the foundation of the Baratheon dynasty was not as stable as the Targaryen dynasty. The Targaryens had initially relied on three dragons to intimidate many, and even up to the time of "The Mad King" Aerys, there were still many who supported the Targaryens.
The Baratheon dynasty was different; it relied almost entirely on the alliance of the four houses—Fish, Wolf, Stag, and Eagle—carefully brokered by Old Jon Arryn to achieve victory.
Later, Old Jon Arryn brokered the marriage between Robert and Cersei to bind the wealthy Lannisters to their cause, thereby allowing his foster son Robert Baratheon to sit securely on the throne.
While King Robert Baratheon was still alive, great hidden dangers had already been planted around him, the result of decades of maneuvering by various factions.
Although these dangers were great, things remained somewhat stable for the time being. The various factions had found a point of balance in Robert, but this balance was delicate; once Robert died, it would completely collapse.
In the Hand's solar.
The King's youngest brother, Renly Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, walked in with a smile. After checking the surroundings to ensure no one was there, he got straight to the point.
"Lord Stark, let us cooperate. I have a very good relationship with House Tyrell of the South. When the time comes, you provide support from within the city, and I will apply pressure from outside; the great deed can be done! When I sit upon the iron throne, I shall name you..."
"My Lord, do not mention such things again. My responsibility and morality do not allow me to commit such an act of treason." Before Renly could finish, Eddard Stark flatly rejected his recruitment; Eddard hadn't expected this fellow to be so blunt.
After hearing Eddard Stark's rejection, Renly Baratheon took his leave without showing any emotion on the surface. However, he immediately ran back to his quarters to gather his men and headed out of the city.
He had to flee back to The Stormlands quickly, otherwise he wouldn't even know how he died in this godforsaken place.
Renly cursed in his heart: What a fool, refusing a kingdom handed to him on a platter. I can't go down with you...
Renly Baratheon was the strongest and had the most troops among these restless factions. But he lacked a legitimate claim; even if Cersei's three children were branded as bastards, the throne would have nothing to do with him.
Moreover, he still didn't know that Cersei's children were bastards; he simply wanted to sit on the iron throne. But even if he knew, he would treat it as an excuse for his second brother Stannis to also seize the throne.
In the room, Eddard Stark watched Renly's departing back with some unease, about to consider his next move.
A moment later, the Master of Coin, "Littlefinger" Petyr Baelish, slowly walked in with a smile. He also wanted to seek some profit from Eddard Stark, the newly appointed Regent.
Because his status was indeed too low, it prevented him from playing as a player on the chessboard; he could only hide behind the scenes to push things along.
"Lord Stark, congratulations. You are now the Regent, below only one but above ten thousand." Littlefinger Petyr Baelish started with some pleasantries before also getting straight to the point.
At this point, Eddard Stark spoke.
"Lord Baelish, Joffrey and the others are not King Robert's children. They are bastards born of incest between Cersei and Jaime. The true heir should be Stannis."
"Oh, that is truly shocking." Although Petyr Baelish said he was shocked and made an exaggerated expression, Eddard Stark could see that he likely knew about this long ago.
"Lord Baelish, I need your help. Help me contact Janos Slynt, the Commander of the City Watch. I need his three thousand Gold Cloaks now."
"I will certainly see that your wish is fulfilled," Petyr Baelish said with a smile.
"However, Lord Stark, why don't we cooperate further? You are now the Protector of the Realm and Regent appointed by His Majesty the King. Until Joffrey comes of age, power is in your hands. As long as you take that step forward, the realm is within your grasp!"
From the look of it, "Littlefinger" Petyr Baelish seemed to truly be looking out for Eddard Stark, eagerly offering what he considered to be good advice.
"Lord Stark, we should first feign cooperation with House Lannister to stabilize Joffrey and his mother. Once we have dealt with Renly and Stannis in turn, we will have secured the realm completely. If Joffrey proves disobedient then, we can reveal his little secret. What do you think?"
Littlefinger was a high-level player; he wouldn't stake everything on one horse. He wanted to seek the greatest benefit for himself among the various factions, and he felt some resentment after being outmaneuvered by Joffrey earlier.
"Lord Baelish, do not mention this again. The state has its laws; justice and the rule of law are fundamental."
Eddard Stark remained unmoved after hearing this highly tempting offer. He always kept his trust in his good friend Robert in mind, and his sense of honor and justice would not allow him to commit acts like kidnapping and blackmail.
"Very well, Lord Stark. Then act as if I never said anything, and continue being your Regent."
Petyr Baelish bid farewell with a smile and turned to leave, as if he truly didn't care much. But the moment he turned his back, his smile vanished, and his handsome face immediately turned cold.
Littlefinger thought to himself: I originally wanted to assist Eddard Stark, but he is so ungrateful. It seems I have no choice but to abandon him.
Although that little fox Joffrey is not easy to deal with, a fool like Cersei can still be used.
...
The Vale, the Mountains of the Moon.
"You want grain, supplies, and weapons? Our Lannister tribe has plenty of those! As long as you come with me, my lion-chief father Tywin can have you swimming in gold," Tyrion said with full confidence.
Tyrion Lannister had long observed that these people's equipment was very dilapidated. Most of their ironware was rusted, yet they couldn't bear to throw it away.
Moreover, many of the people in the back couldn't even piece together a full set of clothes. He believed their demands were very simple.
After speaking, Tyrion cursed quietly, "These country bumpkins don't even recognize a Gold Dragon." After finishing, Tyrion smiled at Vada and said, "Don't translate that last part."
To his surprise, however, the beautiful girl Vada not only didn't translate his last sentence, she didn't even translate the long speech he had made before, and she was looking at him with a mischievous grin.
"We don't see all those things you're talking about. We only know you only have one life right now. Now tell Kon, how does the little dwarf want to die?"
A burly man named Kon stepped out of the group. He held a battered greataxe, and the Common Tongue of Westeros he spoke was even more standard than Vada's.
Looking at Vada's mischievous grin, Tyrion realized that these people could actually understand what he was saying.
I'm so stupid, truly.
"I'd like to live to eighty, with a belly full of wine, a beautiful maiden's mouth around my cock, and then die in my own warm bed." Tyrion replied with a smile.
This made the leader Shaga laugh so hard he nearly fell off his horse.
But others clearly lacked Shaga's sense of humor. Kon continued to press: "I think I'd feel better if I chopped off your cock instead."
"Wait a moment, there are still people in our tribe going hungry. We might as well hear his promises."
Gunthor stopped Kon; he was someone who could consider the bigger picture. In his view, the dwarf's life sounded quite valuable; rather than killing him, it was better to get something practical.
"Hmph, then let our dwarf tell us what you can give us. Food? Armor? Axes?" Kon said, looking again at his own tattered axe; he really loved his axe.
"Stop obsessing over your broken axe, and my longsword!"
"Those are nothing. What I can give you is the entire Vale of Arryn!" Tyrion's sudden, impassioned words left Kon and Gunthor stunned on the spot.