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A Lannister’s Debt

He rode through the small village on his embellished horse with the Lannister sigil on the side. Desperately he tried not to flourish the sigil too extensively because the undaunted Lannister Lion wasn’t welcome at all in most parts of Westeros, especially in Casterly Rock. He fettered his uncomfortable poor horse to a post using an intricate knot to ensure that a robber would have to be ambitious to steal his only method of transport. As he strolled into the inn, he couldn’t help but give a sly superior smile at the local fool’s invidious lament. To his misfortune, a few of the tavern wenches had seen his conceited expression and spoke to the hushed tones to the fool, who had just finished his truly horrendous song. The fool looked at him with the speculation of a skilled assailant and the harrowing gaze of a knight in battle.
“And who do you think you are, good ser, to think of me in such a sardonic manner especially after my performance. It’s enough us common folk put up with your King Joffrey’s oppression, but a knight to snigger at us? Thee shall think twice before laughing at me.” The fool welded a short pathetic sword that looked like a child’s play- toy. He smirked at the fool’s artificial bravery but paid the fool tribute instead.
“I do not wish to mock you in your words, good man, but please accept my humble compensation for your prowess in song.” The fool shunned offering as if were an affliction of a disease that possessed the ability to spread.
“Enough noble words, sweet ser,” The fool sing-songed. “Let the good people of Casterly Rock see for themselves who is the gallant knight, eh?” The fool was overly arrogant, he thought. The fool’s audacity is his own omen, his own sorrowful omen, but a Lannister man must always give his word…
“I am yours, my good man—but how shall you fight me without a proper cuirass?” The simple comment seemed to chafe the fool’s self-esteem as the fool began to lunge viciously at him. He gave an indifferent grin and parried each blow with pliant force, dwindling his steps so he would have the ultimate advantage. The fool interpreted his retreat and began to encroach his footsteps greedily, attacking his upper biceps.
It was too easy, He thought malignantly. Too simplistic…. As he plunged his long sword into the fool’s gut. The common people stared in awe as he laughed, bolstered by their utter bewilderment.
“Who are you, the Red God’s spawn himself?”
“No good townspeople. I am Joffrey. I am Joffrey Lannister. And a Lannister, always pays his debts.”



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