The Purple Wedding

Loren

"So how is married life?"

He invited Sansa and Tyrion to break his fast with them, would have invited Jaime too if he had cared but at the moment it's his former favorite and his wife that he wished to see. Tyrion gave him a strange and questionable expression and he sighed in wonder, the first time his brother refused to fuck a woman. It astounded him as Sansa is a bright red rose.

Just waiting to be plucked.

"Well, let's hope a bedding happens soon. We all know how our father gets about that, right brother?" He asked once more and this time with a meaning behind it. Tyrion for the first time showed anger towards him, for possibly mentioning his late and first wife that he married without consent.

To be sure it was a tragedy, his brother had just discovered love while he, him and Jaime were traveling on the road. Him being a small lad wasn't so sure of what was happening when they spotted the girl whose life his brother would shortly ruin, she wasn't pretty or even a noblewoman and yet his brother fell for her because other than he and Jaime, she gave Tyrion the time of day.

They married the same night and had a drunk Septon do the ceremony, maybe his brother would have been better off running away with her because days later a sober Septon would tell his father. The man who laid to waste two of the richest houses of the West didn't show mercy and made Tyrion watch as the household guards rape his woman, worst is that every man gave her a silver where when his father forced Tyrion to be the last that she was paid a gold, it was horrific.

He held pity for her, for it was a time he was innocent, a pathetically innocent boy untouched by the abandonment his brothers and sister brought. The scene he was told about haunted him and it forced him to realize a simple fact of his House or his father, any disgrace of the great house of the Westerlands will be dealt with wrath and swift justice.

"Speaking of marriage, how about you? What woman will tame the infamous Scarred Lion?" Tyrion shot back and his one eye gleamed at the snide question, yes he will marry but not yet and no woman will ever tame him. He threw a berry into his mouth and smirked, not fazed by Tyrion's question.

"I do have a woman in mind, but our father will be the one to marry me to a woman. And brother, when does the sheep tame a lion? I think not." He answered and turned to Sansa, an albeit insignificant sliver of pity etched through his face. "Lady Sansa? I forgot to mention how sorry I am for your loss, be sure the Gods will have repayment for the breaking of Guest Rights." He swore and even now the payments are being wrought by House Frey.

No House respects them, since gaining their new castle not a single offer of anything had been sent. Even his aunt Genna and her children had gone back to the Rock, leaving her husband who had been given lordship of Riverrun is left alone in the mess they had caused. Roose Bolton, however, is the next Lord to be feeling this with how the Lords of Forrester had been causing trouble.

"Thank, my Lord." He shook his head immediately after she responded to him.

"Oh don't, it's brother now. You don't seem to have many of those left, do you?" The words were improper and insulting, he didn't care one whit whether it was improper, one cannot have enough siblings nowadays or for him, he will be glad to not have any soon. Tyrion huffed in frustration and asked Sansa to go, away from his taunts and improper words no doubt. Alone Tyrion turned to him and shot to him a fierce glare, filled with rage.

"She just lost her brother and mother, can you be anymore impolite!" His rage was surprising to him, never thought Tyrion had it in him. He scoffed and it further angered Tyrion, "What happened? Ever since you've returned from the Stormlands, your estranged, tell me what changed you?" He wished his brother could understand that him, Jaime and father- Even Cersei stands in the way of his ambitions. He rose from his chair and walked over to his chamber doors, opening it for Tyrion.

"Get out." Was all he had to say for his second eldest brother to leave, upset he slams the door shut and rubbed his face. His one eye gleaming in anger, then he lost it.

Destroying his chambers, tossing tables and breaking chairs over the very walls, throwing the plates and food and wine onto the floor. How dare Tyrion, how dare anyone attempt to understand him, to think that they can stay calm if they knew he was plotting against them, working for their downfall and his rise. By the end of the hour he was exhausted and his room was a terrible mess, he wouldn't bother the servants to clean them until the next morning. He took a deep breath to calm himself and sighed.

After having his little tirade of anger, he slept easy that night and the next morning he wore his best dress. Today was his nephew's wedding to Margaery Tyrell and it will be a lovely day, for him at least. The little twat was unbearable during his tenure as Hand of the King, telling him and giving him orders like he was fighting the initial battles in the war. The bastard ordered the beheading of some honorable Lord, that is all he sees and knows, he fought the battles, he brought Stannis and the Stormlords to heel. Not him, or his father or brothers, him.

The wedding was all fine and good, much more than what he had heard his brother's wedding day was. Margaery looked beautiful in her dress, and her hair was done in a way that looked absolutely stunning. His nephew looked like a complete and utter cunt, not much else. The hours before this, however, the wedding gifts were being given to the King and his new Queen, he gave them two pendants of a lion which was less than it should be for he gives the Queen her gift at least once a week.

His brother gave the boy some books, but his father gave him sword and Joffrey used that sword to hack the books into pieces. He thought it a waste of Valyrian steel as the boy would never use it, he wouldn't even use a bow on the battlements when Stannis was attacking. Worse was the twat called the sword Widows Wail, a cunt name for a cunt king.

There was another aspect of the day he enjoyed, meeting the Dornish family or well Oberyn and Ellaria. He was to meet him before like Jaime and Cersei had done but first impressions weren't so bad. Though he would do without the leering eyes from both of them, who knew the Dornish were so different compared to the proper north of Westeros. He did ask after his niece and was told she was doing well and that was good, the only child of Cersei's that is somewhat talented.

Now it was the main feast that would go on into the night, right before the bedding ceremony. Some minstrels were playing the Rains of Castamere for the umpteenth time of the hour and it was getting annoying. Thank the very god's someone put a stop to it.

"Yes, Yes off with you!" Joffrey shouted while throwing gold at them like it was a commodity. Soon enough he began to speak once more, "Silence, all of you! There has been enough amusement here today, a royal wedding isn't an amusement. It's history, and it is time for all of us to contemplate our history. My Lords, my Ladies, I give to you Kings Joffrey, Renly, Stannis, Robb Stark, and Balon Greyjoy. The War of the Five Kings!" Joffrey introduced five dwarves like his brother, all dressed to look like the respective kings.

It was an appalling act to be played, a cruel jest towards Tyrion and a disrespect to the dead kings. His nephew all but fell from his chair in laughter over the entire albeit tasteless display of humor, not many had laughed and neither would he for that matter, especially when the one playing his 'dear' nephew was fucking the head of the Young Wolf and when it was over, he breathed a sigh of relief, Joffrey, however, wasn't finished. "The Champions Purse, though you aren't quite the champion yet, no a true champion takes on all comers. Surely there are others who would dare challenge my reign? How about you uncle Tyrion, uncle Loren." He heard Joffrey call out to him and his brother.

"One taste of combat was enough for me your grace and Loren to no doubt. We would like to keep what remains of our faces, perhaps you should fight him." Tyrion spat in a polite manner and he would not waste the chance to put Joffrey in his place, below with the gutter rats.

"Indeed. This was a poor imitation of your martial accomplishments, I and Tyrion speak as first-hand witnesses. Show us all how a King, keeps his crown. Be prepared, however, this one looks rather vicious." The crowd was a mixture of silence and laughter, though silence is what remains when Joffrey turned to glare at them all for his and Tyrion's japes. Joffrey didn't know whom to attack, being displaced by two greater men must be hard for him to decide.

In the end, his nephew chose to insult Tyrion by sauntering over and spilling the last of his wine atop the dwarfs head, a shame because it was a very nice vintage. He looked to a servant and told them to bring the pie out, perhaps that and Margaery will rein in his nephew. "Oh, the pie! Come, my love, father wants to give a toast." Joffrey looked disappointed and held his empty cup up.

"My cup is empty. Uncle Loren, why don't you get me another, please?"

His one eye glared towards Joffrey with such fury that if magical would set Joffrey ablaze, and his nephew sensed this inside of him. His grip on his fork could bend it, how dare this bastard think to have the audacity to order HIM! He who saved his hide in the Battle of King's Landing, he who brought the Stormlands to heel. In the split second before his rage could boil over his brother nudged his shoulder and got up from his seat, obeying the boy despite his earlier notion to go and change his attire.

The pie was traditionally first tasted by the King and Queen, Joffrey bit into the pigeon pie like a beast eating prey. Only it all went downhill after this.

His nephew began choking and at first no one thought anything, but then it happened again, and again. All while he watched with a gleaming eye, his plans carefully taking shape right in front of him. Olenna played the part of worried good grandmother and demanded that someone help, Jaime rushed to his son's aid though no one can help because the poison cannot be cured or extracted from its victim.

Soon the Bastard King breathed his last, and though it wasn't the planned person he had in mind to blame the death on, Tyrion will do for now. His sister blamed Tyrion and his father had the guards take him away. Looking left he saw Sansa was missing, not good at all so she informed his father who demanded the city gates be barred and closed.

Either way, he has his victory this day.