Kayne Baratheon.

Kayne IX

Joffrey sat in the shade, under a canopy of red and gold, with Sansa on his left and Cersei, Tommen and Myrcella on his right. Sandor Clegane stood behind him as he always did, though strangely he was dressed in the King's Guard armour. Kayne spied each other member of the King's Guard nearby, Ser Preston Greenfeild, Ser Meryn Trant, Ser Boros Blount, all of them, all save for Barristan.

"KAYNE!" Tommen gave a cry of excitement and hopped out of his chair before running over to him as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. Kayne scooped him up with a smile. "Why did you leave?" His brother asked.
"No one cares why he left, what matters is what to do with you now you have returned." Joffrey interrupted with a cynical smile as he rose from his chair. Kayne set Tommen down on his feet and stepped closer to the boy King.
"Before you have any ideas of taking my head or having me tortured, I believe you should read this." He replied and handed over Lord Tywin's letter.

Joffrey snatched it out of his hands, inspecting the seal quizzically. This was the moment of truth, would Tywin's letter be Kayne's safety net, or would it condemn him to death? The contents would decide his fate. The King ripped open the letter and read it over, his frown growing with each line, that boded well for Kayne. Cersei stood up behind her son, and read the letter over his shoulder before sneering at him.
"You are to be unharmed and retain the Lordship of Summerhall as well as your position on the small council by order of Lord Tywin Lannister the Hand of the King." She read aloud and Kayne smiled, though that confused him. Tywin could have ordered him killed and no one could interfere, why let him live? Why let him keep Summerhall? Granted he had predictably not included the arrangement for Sansa and Arya to be placed under Kayne's protection, he had not expected Tywin to honour that part of their arrangement but the fact that he honoured any of it was a shock.

"This must be a lie! This must have been forged!" Joffrey whined.
"It was written by your grandfather, I watched him do it myself." Tyrion added and handed over his own letter, the one that named him Hand of the King in Tywin's stead. Joffrey and Cersei read that and their scowls grew even more. Kayne had to use all of his sheer will not to burst out with laughter right there.

Then, Joffrey's frown twisted into a cruel snarl as if he had discovered some new form of torment.
"I want fathers Warhammer, I am his true born son, it should be mine." He demanded. For one moment Kayne considered swinging the Warhammer into the cunts skull, but he calmed himself and detached his fathers weapon from the holder across his back. He placed it down on the floor, the handle sticking up.
"If you want it, pick it up." Kayne replied and Joffrey stepped forwards smugly, wrapping his hands around the handle and heaving. The hammer did not move. He tightened his grip and heaved again. The hammer inched across the cobbled floor. A few guards and knights let out sniggers, Tyrion and his mountain clans men did the same. Joffrey flushed red with anger and tried one last time to lift the hammer. He managed to lift it half an inch above the ground before dropping it once more.
"Fine bastard, keep it." Joffrey snarled. Kayne smirked at him before effortlessly lifted the hammer with one hand before giving a mocking bow and turning to walk away, Ser Arys turned too before Joffrey spoke up again.

"Ser Arys, where do you think you are young?" The little shit asked.
"Your father-" the King's Guard began before Cersei cut him off.
"Robert is dead, we have a new King now and you will follow his orders." Cersei could not have sounded happier as she spoke, Kayne ground his teeth, from that alone he had no doubt in his mind that the golden haired bitch had something to do with his fathers death.

Ser Arys remained where he stood, as Kayne began to walk away once more. He had barely left the gates to King's Landing when the sellsword caught up with him.
"Are you not supposed to be with my uncle?" Kayne questioned Bronn, he could smell the rotting heads of Eddard Stark and his men, he could not bring himself to look upon their faces. He had learned all their names and to look into their ghostly eyes made him wretch.
"He told me to go with you. It seems to me like everyone here wants you dead." The older man replied with a slight chuckle that brought Kayne's attentions away from the dead