Chapter 474 - An Interrupted Wedding.

Chapter 474: Chapter 474 - An Interrupted Wedding.

[Chapter Size: 3300 Words.]

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Third Person POV

North, 300 AC.

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The Sept of Baelor quickly filled with the most important people who could gather in King’s Landing at that moment. Everyone was gathered there, watching as King Joffrey stood beneath the steps, before the altar, in silence, watching his bride begin to enter through the doors accompanied by her father, Lord Tyrell.

Whispers and compliments quickly spread among the women of the group, while the men silently watched the future Queen Margaery walk toward the steps, where she had to part from her father.

"Here I leave my daughter in Your Majesty’s care," he said.

Joffrey displayed a charming smile, nodding. "She will be very well cared for. I will love her all my life and honor her as my wife should be," he said, as though those words had been rehearsed.

Margaery merely displayed a smile and moved forward until she stood before King Joffrey. Their eyes met. Joffrey seemed perfectly excited and happy to have her as his wife. Margaery could also now see her dreams coming true, even though there were other things happening...

She would become queen at that moment.

Joffrey was handsome in her eyes, perhaps not as much as that green-eyed boy she had developed a crush on years ago, until she learned that she would never be able to become queen at his side.

Her own grandmother had said so.

Despite the concerns everyone now had and even the fact that her grandmother had been trying to withdraw from the alliance with the Lannisters over the last few moons, seeing that perhaps they could not defeat Arctic. But Margaery had faith that they could. They had the largest army in Westeros and now, if the gods allowed it, she could also lend them some strength by being queen.

In any case, the vows were made. She was covered with the cloak and, soon after, they kissed, finally sealing the agreement officially. Margaery needed to become queen in King’s Landing, since being a queen of the Reach and the Stormlands with Renly Baratheon before did not seem to be worth much.

Thus, the entire group moved on to the grand feast inside the castle, following through the crowd that shouted their names, especially Queen Margaery’s name. She could see that Cersei, behind her mask, could not hide a flicker of contempt and a certain envy at losing something. Margaery saw a certain fear in the former queen.

The Queen Mother no longer had the same power as before, and seemed not to like it one bit, no matter how much she tried not to show it.

But it did not matter. Margaery was finally queen, and the Seven Kingdoms would have a bright future. They would win every war and overcome every threat from Arctic. The lack of communication and what was happening in the kingdoms were secondary concerns at that moment.

All that mattered now was that she was the queen.

When they arrived back at the Red Keep, from the moment they stepped out of their carriage until they reached the place where all the guests would stay, the path was filled with attractions. Singers sang songs, while rose petals, the symbol of House Tyrell, were tossed everywhere alongside symbols of lions. Men with axes performed synchronized movements as they clapped and cleared the way for them to pass. Even some men armed with shields and spears struck their weapons against their shields to produce a rhythmic sound.

Joffrey and Margaery had a great deal of fun. Perhaps it was a good distraction from what they inwardly wanted to deny.

A large space had been prepared for them at the end, where they sat alongside the most important guests. Everyone was gathered there: Cersei, Tyrion, his wife Sansa, the Hand of the King, Tywin, and her family, Mace, Olenna, Garlan, and Loras, seated at the main table as they watched the attractions arrive one after another, drank wine, laughed, and listened to the performances.

That day was perfect for Margaery, even though she knew that perhaps her grandmother was planning to do something. She did not know exactly what it was, but it did not matter. She would leave that to her and enjoy the feast.

Then came the cake. Joffrey, showing off his Valyrian steel sword, cut into it, killing a few doves in the process, but that mattered little at that moment. What mattered was seeing all those birds burst out and fly into the sky.

Then came the dwarf show, depicting the War of the Five Kings. Or rather, the Six Kings, for there was also a dwarf symbolizing Arctic.

All of them had been defeated by the dwarf who represented Joffrey. The last was the Arctican, represented by a dwarf wearing savage clothes made of furs, carrying a stone spear and a shield likewise made of stone, causing people to burst into laughter.

It was a portrayal of the Arcticans as nothing more than savages. The dwarf was comically stabbed by Joffrey and, as he fell dead, other savages appeared, dwarf women who ran toward Joffrey and grabbed him.

"You saved us from that rapist!" one of them said, as everyone began to laugh.

Margaery laughed, but her smile disappeared when she saw her grandmother’s expression. The woman looked worried as she closed her eyes for a few moments.

"I pray to the gods that he didn’t see this..." she said, searching for any animal around them. Many of the doves that had flown out of the cake were still there, perched on the rooftops, watching them.

"You look worried, Grandmother," Margaery said.

"It’s one thing to be someone’s enemy. It’s another thing to make your enemy hate you, to deeply offend him. Can these lions really be this foolish?" Olenna muttered. "Do they not think they can lose this war as well? After all, they don’t even know what’s happening in Westeros. How can they be so certain of victory?"

From what they had heard recently, the Freys had been destroyed and now the Arcticans were attacking the Westerlands. What if Arctic was already marching here at this very moment?

And knowing nothing about the Lannister army sent to the Westerlands should also be a sign that things were not going so well.

"The fools and idiots who prepared this don’t realize that we may have to negotiate our surrender? What will that man do after what he saw here? Will he show us any mercy?" Olenna muttered.

"I also thought they went too far with this," Margaery could not help but admit in the end.

Certainly, the sight before them, showing a dwarf representing Joffrey being kissed by several savage women who had supposedly been taken by the Arctican king, was not something that represented that kingdom and those people who had come all the way to Highgarden years ago and destroyed entire fleets.

"Did you say something?" Joffrey asked, suddenly appearing behind her and giving her a curious look. He had not heard properly while she was talking to her grandmother.

"It’s nothing, my love," she said, kissing his lips. "I just thought it was funny."

He nodded, satisfied, before taking her hand. "Come with me," he asked, leading her to the front of everyone.

"As you have seen, that was the War of the Five Kings, in which I triumphed on the battlefield!" he said, making everyone applaud, ignoring the fact that he had remained in the city for practically the entire time while others fought for him. "As you can see, I crushed them all, even those savages from the North! Savages who wounded my mother and my uncle in Winterfell!"

His voice quickly began to grow harsher, making everyone stop applauding as Joffrey took on a more serious expression.

"I may not have defeated them yet, but fear not, my people! I, my grandfather, and the Tyrells, now that we are bound by marriage and Lord Tyrell’s daughter is my wife and queen, promise to devote all our efforts to freeing Westeros from this savagery, and I will rule as a worthy king, I will probably be the greatest king of all!" he declared proudly, making the people applaud again.

"All that’s left is for him to get on a horse with a sword and ride out through the gates this time," Tyrion could not help but mutter, making Joffrey stare at him, having heard his sarcasm.

"What did you say, Uncle?" he asked angrily, while Tyrion merely raised his eyes and lifted his cup.

"I was only saying that, given your performance in the last war, it’s quite likely the Arcticans will flee before they even appear before Your Majesty," Tyrion said.

Although most knew it was mockery, he spoke in a tone filled with courtesy and admiration. Joffrey seemed not to notice the taunt in those words and felt satisfied, but even so, he looked at his dwarf uncle and felt the urge to mock him in front of everyone.

"Come here, Uncle. You’re going to become my new cupbearer," he said, making Tyrion stare at him while everyone else also turned their eyes toward the dwarf.

"What are you standing there for? I said you’re going to be my new cupbearer. Come here, your king commands you!" Joffrey said in a threatening tone.

Tyrion watched as everyone continued staring at him while whispering among themselves. He merely grumbled and rose from his chair beside Sansa, who said nothing, and went over to Joffrey.

"Fill my cup," the king said before dropping it in front of Tyrion, making many people laugh.

Tyrion had to bend down to pick it up and then filled it with wine, handing it to Joffrey, who took it with a mocking smile.

"Oh, Uncle, you filled it too much," he said before pouring the wine over Tyrion’s head, spilling it all over the dwarf.

Olenna kept a deadly serious gaze on Joffrey at that moment. As he was about to bring the cup to his mouth, she prepared to carry out her act and put an end to that king once and for all. She would never let that monster have her precious granddaughter. It was far more worthwhile to cultivate the other, younger lion than that monster.

And, just as the cup was about to touch his lips, something suddenly fell from the sky.

"What?" Joffrey asked in surprise as a huge crate slammed hard into the ground, causing him to stop the movement. The women screamed in surprise, while the men stared at it with curious expressions. The crate had simply struck the ground, splintering part of the wood.

"What is that?" Joffrey shouted, but no one knew the answer.

Tywin also stood up with a serious look fixed on that wooden crate. "Find whoever threw that!" he shouted to the men, who began to move, thinking it had fallen from one of the castle windows.

"There’s a horrible smell coming from the crate!" someone shouted upon noticing some dried blood through the cracks, but the smell suggested there was a corpse inside.

"Open the crate," Joffrey immediately ordered, approaching it.

"No. We’ll examine this in private. There are too many people watching," Tywin said beside him.

"No! I want that crate opened this very moment!" Joffrey insisted.

"I insist that you do not."

"But I insist that I do!" Joffrey growled at his grandfather, still somewhat offended by the harsh words he had received from him over the past few weeks. "Open it now!" he ordered.

This time, Tywin could not stop him. Some men approached the crate and began trying to pry off the top, which had been nailed shut. They used their swords until they finally managed to break through the nails.

The stench of decay soon spread throughout the place. It was not something that had been killed recently. It seemed to have been there for weeks already, making people look on in horror.

"My king..." said a man of the Kingsguard, none other than Ser Boros, still wearing an eyepatch due to the loss of one of his eyes years ago, at Highgarden.

"What’s in there?" Joffrey asked.

The man seemed uncertain. "This should not be shown here, in front of everyone."

That irritated Joffrey. He wanted to know and did not care what the others would think. "Show me. Now!" the king growled.

With no choice, the man approached, reached his hand inside the crate, and pulled something out by its golden hair, dirty and covered in blood that had dried long ago.

The dead man’s face quickly made everyone’s eyes widen. His skin might have been somewhat purplish from having been dead for days, as well as slightly swollen, but even so, his facial features remained the same.

"No..." Cersei immediately seemed to collapse. She was already standing and nearly fell over the table, and tears could be seen in her eyes through the only exposed part of her mask.

Tywin remained silent, his eyes wide.

How could he not? The son he had immediately sent several knights to search for and bring back to King’s Landing now appeared dead before him. His eldest son had been brought inside a crate, thrown into the middle of his grandson’s wedding and now displayed for everyone there, while several guests could not help but stare in shock.

Tyrion stood motionless, his crutch lying on the ground near Joffrey. He could feel the wine the young man had poured over him beginning to run down his head and back, but that no longer mattered. All he could do was stare, lost, at the head of his dead brother.

Not that he could deny that this might happen, especially when Jaime had not contacted them since he went west. It was obvious that something bad could be happening, and there was the proof. Proof that his brother was dead, probably after a battle whose outcome no one there yet knew.

It had been only twenty thousand Arcticans against thirty thousand Lannisters. How had it ended like this? How many had they defeated? How had his brother died?

There were so many questions.

Joffrey froze as well, while Queen Margaery could not help but cover her mouth. The king dropped his own goblet to the ground, causing the poisoned wine to spill across the steps.

"Who sent this?!" he shouted, immediately enraged.

"It came from the sky, my lord. No one threw it from inside the Red Keep. It was dropped from the sky."

"You’re saying a crate simply fell from the sky? Don’t mock me!" Joffrey retorted.

"There’s a letter," Ser Boros said, picking it up from a corner of the crate. It was slightly stained with blood and certainly carried that horrible smell.

"Let me read it," Tywin ordered, stepping forward.

He could not allow any declaration from their enemies to be read in front of everyone, especially when everyone was already terrified. He took the letter and began to read.

"To the Lannister family. If you want to know how the Kingslayer died, well, he ended up entering single combat with the same man who had cut off his hand in Winterfell. My king had given Kevan Lannister a chance because of the Lannisters’ cowardly attempt to burn down a castle farther north and place the blame on the Arcticans. My king decided to take the life of a Lannister that day in retaliation for what they had certainly tried to do with their lackeys.

Kevan was given the choice to face the king, but he cowered. So the king did not give him much of a choice and ordered the other Kingsguard to hunt down Jaime Lannister himself. Well, he did not last long, especially since he no longer had a hand. This is the wedding gift the Arcticans are giving you."

The words echoed clearly throughout the place. It had not been the king himself who had written it, but some other Arctican whom he had given the order.

Tywin did not know what to think about it. The first thing he clearly thought was that it had to be nothing more than a trick. A trick by the Arcticans to turn the Lannisters against one another. Of course, they needed to do that. Surely, their army must have been devastated.

While they were still trying to discuss what was happening, a bird came down and landed directly where the main table stood. Olenna was somewhat startled when the animal stopped before her, displaying a letter.

A letter from Highgarden bearing the seal of her own house. A bird flying directly to her? That should not have been possible.

Her relatives, who were still quite horrified by Jaime’s severed head and Cersei screaming curses in rage, also noticed what was happening. Mace approached his mother, while his two sons, Garlan and Loras, looked on in surprise.

"Why did a bird come to you, Grandmother?" Loras asked, while Garlan could not help but darken his expression.

Olenna simply took the letter. Even Margaery, who had seen it from the corner of her eye, quickly approached them to find out what was happening.

When she opened the letter, the words were easy to read. The handwriting was clearly Willas’s.

"Highgarden has fallen. The Arctican king now has Highgarden under his control."

The words were brief, but direct. Willas had only managed to write that at Jon’s request. It had to be his handwriting, he had to sign it himself. Even though Jon could have tried to perfectly copy Willas’s handwriting and send false letters, there was no need for that.

"It can’t be!" Loras growled.

Lord Tyrell immediately moved closer to them, while even Olenna’s hands began to tremble.

"Highgarden has fallen... fallen while we’re here..." he murmured, while his mind quickly began to work.

"That can’t be true," Alerie murmured.

The bird simply flew away, leaving the place so it would not remain there too long and risk being attacked.

"It’s Willas’s handwriting..." Garlan said.

"He may have been coerced," Loras said.

"That is clearly Willas’s handwriting. If he truly wrote this, it’s because Highgarden really has fallen. And someone forced him to write it. He isn’t usually this direct, which means he was coerced. With a blade at his throat, obviously," Olenna said.

"What are we going to do now?" Garlan asked with concern, while his mother was already crying beside his father.

Lord Tyrell was pale. He was already preparing to shout for the men of the Reach to leave that place and split the army, but now Margaery had a crown on her head. If that letter had arrived a few hours earlier, even while Margaery was climbing the steps to meet Joffrey before the High Septon, perhaps things would have been different.

But now it was too late.

And, in the midst of that confusion, a new person came running in. Someone wearing a Lannister cloak rushed through the place while Tywin remained with some of his men, obviously filled with fury and feeling extreme pain from the loss of his son.

The man ran directly toward him.

"Lord Tywin! Lord Tywin! News from the North!"

"What is it now?" Tywin asked.

"An Arctican army is advancing south! Around eighty thousand men, my lord! They’re coming to King’s Landing!" the man shouted, drawing everyone’s attention and causing those present to freeze as well.

"An army of eighty thousand...?" the question struck them like a stone to the head.

Obviously, Arctic had already captured some prisoners and allowed some of them to see the army precisely on the day the wedding would take place, when there was no longer any way to stop it. After that, they simply released one of them with a horse so that he could race to King’s Landing and warn them about what was happening.

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