“Do I have to sit in it?” asked a whinging Joffery. He had a headache again did not want to sit the Iron Throne. He also briefly considered why nobody said, “sit on” as opposed to just “sit the”. His Mother’s voice was coming in again.
“Yes, you most certainly do”, said Cersei Baratheon or Lannister, as she preferred, now Robert was gone, sighed inwardly. There was no way she was going to show any emotion in front of this lot.
“Yes, but I saw this catalogue…” Joffery started.
“No”, said his Mother in that quiet voice she used when there was completely no point in arguing with her. When you heard that voice it was a good idea to be somewhere else. It was good to learn from it though, he was getting some funny ideas in his head lately and the headaches were getting considerably worse. Joffery steeled himself. He was King. Time to try and prove it.
“Mother. I have seen some lovely Lloyd Looms Chairs which will be way more comfortable than this old thing”, said Joffery. Westeros was still without the internet which is a shame because Joff could have by passed his Mother and gone onto https://lloydlooms.co.uk/.
“That “old thing” is the Iron Throne. Whomsoever sits there rules over all the continent and the seven kingdoms. It is the ultimate seat of power. You will sit there, you will rule or I’ll get your Fath..er I mean, your Uncle Jaime to come in here and make you sit there”. Cersei was not in the mood. Quiet voice was in full effect. She’ll have to watch it about Jaime as well. Not that she really cared anymore. They should be able to flaunt their love. The Targaryen’s did it all the time. Not that they ended up well. Her now dead husband and Ned Stark had seen to that. She should sit there, not Joffery. What was she but a bargaining chip that her father had used. She was strong, she was the daughter of Lann the Clever, she did not need a set of Loom chairs. Though Jofferey did have a point. A Throne made from a load of bent swords could only be one thing, uncomfortable. Old Mad King Aerys kept cutting themselves on it by putting his full weight there. Not a good idea, she didn’t want her bum cut to ribbons. As ever Cersei adapted.
“Alright, get some Loom Chairs. We’ll get some runners on this thing and wheel it out for state occasions or when someone we need to impress turns up. The Hound can do that job”.
Gregor Clegane sighed. Still he hadn’t dropped a C bomb for at least 5 minutes, now he had a genuine reason too.