Trueblood || Jon Snow ✓

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓 ~ 𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗

JOFFREY STOOD, HIS KNIFE CLANGING HARSHLY AGAINST HIS GOBLET FOR SILENCE. "Everyone! The queen would like to say a few words."

Everyone clapped as she rose, smiling sweetly. "We are so fortunate to enjoy this marvellous food and drink. Not all among us are so lucky. To thank the gods for bringing the recent war to a just end, King Joffrey has decreed that the leftovers from our feast be given to the poorest in his city." applause rang out as she sat again.

The feast went on, and Joffrey's rather cruel entertainments went on too, including a horribly disrespectful recounting of the war done by dwarves. Yelena shot her uncle a sympathetic look as she put a comforting hand on Sansa's shoulder, who froze when the dwarf dressed as Joffrey knocked off the fake head of the one playing Robb.

Of course her brother had to make things worse though. "Oh, Uncle, I'm so sorry we don't have a costume for you."

But Tyrion was smart. "I believe one taste of battle was enough for me, Your Grace. I'd like to keep what's left of my face. You should fight him. This was but a poor imitation of your own bravery on the battlefield. Be careful though;" he nodded at one of the dwarves. "This one's mad with lust. It's be a shame for the king to lose his virtue mere hours before his wedding night."

Yelena, who had been taking a sip of wine, now choked violently, spitting it back out. She quickly leaned back out of view as she tried to control the silent laughter that shook her body. The crowd was silent.

Standing, Joffrey walked slowly over, only to pour his wine on Tyrion's head. Yelena winced.

"A fine vintage." Tyrion told him after a moment. "Shame that it spilled."

"It didn't spill." Joffrey said, his voice dark.

But it seemed Margaery had had enough. "My love, come back to me." she said, her voice light. "It's time for my father's toast." the dwarves scurried off as the king returned to his seat.

"But how does he expect me to toast without wine?" he asked innocently, then smiled. "Uncle, you can be my cupbearer, seeing as you're too cowardly to fight." Yelena bit her lip. This was not going to end well.

He sighed. "Your Grace does me a great honour."

"It's not meant as a great honour." Joffrey told him flatly.

Tyrion stood, approaching slowly. He almost had his hand on the cup when Joffrey dropped it, forcing his uncle to crawl under the table for it. Thank the gods for Sansa, who handed it to him from where it had sat by her feet instead. Yelena watched in tense silence, hoping Olenna's distraction would come very soon.

"What good is an empty cup?" her brother sniffed. "Fill it." but when it was offered to him again, he still wasn't satisfied. "Kneel." he ordered quietly. "Kneel before your king." Yelena's teeth gritted so hard she was sure they could hear it across the Narrow Sea, her heart thumping with fury and a little bit of that fear from earlier. "Kneel." Tyrion stood unmoving, but Joffrey was growing more agitated and irritated each second. "I said... kneel!" Yelena's eyes flitted desperately to Olenna, but she wouldn't meet the girl's eyes, her expression neutral, with only a tinge of repressed irritation.

When Tyrion still stood, it was Margaery who saved them all. Her expression went from tense and dark to bright in a split second. "Look, the pie!"she said as she rose suddenly, as though nothing were wrong. The tension was broken in that second and everyone clapped and cheered as the ridiculously large pie was brought out. Yelena exhaled as Joffrey snatched his goblet, not realising how long she'd stopped breathing for. Her chest ached now, but she ignored it.

Joffrey took a sip of wine before taking up his sword and approaching the huge pastry. He struck hard, breaking it open, and lovely white doves burst out into the air. Yelena tried not to look at the poor birds he'd killed that sat bloody inside the pie still. Everyone clapped and Margaery laughed.