Purple Day

Joffrey has return back to the Purple and loop back from Yi-Ti but at great anguish, sorrow and PTSD shock from the loss of his best friends and allies from the Yi-Ti White Walkers..

From the most recent chapter
forums.spacebattles.com/thread…

--Excerpt--

"“—it’s okay, it’s okay, breath brother, breathe deeply, it’s okay, it’s okay,” repeated Myrcella as she hugged him as tight as she could. Joffrey realized distantly he was hyperventilating, his breathing louder than a bull’s as he swayed, staring fixedly at the archery target like a madman. It looked like a hedgehog, filled with arrows, most of them surrounding the circle’s center or a bit up, roughly where the head should be in a person.

“Aahh… I… aahhh… aahhh… I’mhh… aaahhhh” he struggled to say, swaying as he stared at the sword that lay clasped in his sweaty palm, its tip unerringly aimed in the archery target’s direction. “I’m… aaah… I’m okay… I’m okay Myrcella…” he managed, lowering the sword as he struggled for more air. His sister let him go hesitantly as his swaying lessened and his hands stopped shaking. He tried to breathe deeply as he sheathed the arming sword, clumsily trying to wipe his drenched forehead with his hand. “Thank you,” he muttered as Myrcella gave him a piece of cloth which he used to wipe the sweat off his eyes.


He turned back to Robb and Theon, picking up the bow from the ground. “I’m really sorry Theon, I kind of got carried away there… would you like to…” Joffrey trailed off as the Greyjoy heir raised his hands chest high and warded him off “No, no, I think we all know who the better marksman here is…” he said, not a hint of sarcasm in his voice for once. “…Where did you learn… that,” he asked, pointing at the target, all twenty arrows either close to the center or higher.

. --End Excerpt--

TBC