Joffrey's morning had started with a message that his uncle, Tyrion, had finally returned from the Wall. He set aside everything else, deciding that greeting his uncle personally would serve him better than waiting for Tyrion to approach. After all, Tyrion had seen the wild North, and Joffrey could use that experience to his advantage in future conversations.
He found Tyrion in the west wing of the castle, a goblet already in his hand as he surveyed his surroundings with that familiar, sharp gaze.
"Tyrion," Joffrey called out as he approached, his tone friendly but laced with curiosity. "How was the Wall? Did it live up to all the tall tales?"
Tyrion smirked, taking a casual sip of his wine before answering. "The Wall? It's big, cold, and bleak. Exactly what you'd expect."
Joffrey chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Well, everything must look big to you, uncle."
Tyrion laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "Oh, indeed. The whores say the same about my member. Always amusing when they act so surprised."
Joffrey burst out laughing, slapping Tyrion's shoulder lightly. "You've been gone too long. I needed more of these jokes around here."
"Glad I could entertain, Your Grace." Tyrion gave a mock bow, eyes twinkling.
As they began walking toward Tyrion's chambers, Joffrey shifted gears, moving the conversation toward business. "I trust the journey wasn't too much trouble?"
Tyrion shrugged. "Nothing too unusual, though the Stark hospitality on my way back was as cold as the North itself. I gave Bran Stark a bow as an apology for the unfortunate incident on the road, but the welcome was… icy."
Joffrey smirked at the comment. "They're Starks. Supposed to be icy. But you… I thought you were a Lannister. Where was your roar?"
Tyrion raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into a sly smile. "I don't roar. I leave that to others." He tilted his head slightly. "I thought Grandfather roared enough for all of us."
That made Joffrey laugh, a genuine one that felt like it came from the old Paul inside him. "Good point. I expected you to give that Stark woman a bottle of your frozen piss for her frosty reception."
Tyrion chuckled again, shaking his head. "I would have, but if I'd pissed outside, my cock would've frozen off."
They continued toward Tyrion's room, the conversation light until Tyrion's tone became serious. "But Joffrey, a word. How do I get the position of Master of Coin when Baelish still sits so comfortably in that chair?"
Joffrey grinned. Tyrion was nothing if not direct. "Did it take you this long to remember Baelish exists?"
"I was hoping to read a letter announcing Baelish's untimely demise," Tyrion snarked, not missing a beat.
Joffrey rolled his eyes. "I'm not king yet, Uncle. I can't just have the man executed for being a snake. He's too useful to Father for now."
Tyrion stopped mid-stride, looking incredulously at his nephew. "Executed? Even if you were king, you can't just order the death of the Master of Coin. The court doesn't work that way, Joffrey."
Joffrey smirked, patting Tyrion on the shoulder as if it were all a joke. "Of course, uncle. I was only jesting."
Tyrion sighed, though his face softened into something between exasperation and amusement. "I had half-expected the old Joffrey to stab first and ask questions later. Is this newfound patience part of your… growth?"
Joffrey tilted his head slightly, curious. "Do you have something on Baelish, uncle? A thread to pull?"
Tyrion's smirk faded slightly, replaced by something more calculating. "Missing coin from the treasury, perhaps, but that's as common as wine at these feasts. If we locked up everyone who spent the king's coin unwisely, half the realm would be sent to the Wall."
Joffrey's grin tightened. "This isn't careless spending. Baelish really is pilfering the crown's coffers."
Tyrion let out a snort, though his eyes gleamed with interest. "Brave, isn't he? Or a fool if he's been caught by you of all people."
Joffrey's face darkened, his jaw clenching at the remark. "I might have been a fool before, but that doesn't warrant your ridicule now."
Tyrion stopped again, his expression softening. "We all have things that follow us, Joffrey. I was born once and have carried my stature as a daily reminder of what the world sees in me." He shrugged, offering a rare moment of understanding. "Don't let the mistakes of your past weigh on you. Be proud of what you've become."
Joffrey's shoulders relaxed, and he sighed deeply, his voice lowering as they resumed walking. "What would you do, uncle, if your life had been lived in a fog? If you made mistakes without being in control, and when the fog lifted, you had to face the consequences."
Tyrion blinked, then gave a wry smile. "You either drink and fuck yourself into forgetting what you did… or you do something so spectacular, no one remembers what happened before."
Joffrey chuckled, though the weight of Tyrion's words settled in. Maybe that was his answer. He had to do something so grand, so powerful, that no one remembered the cruelty and foolishness of the Joffrey before him.
---
Later, as Joffrey turned down a corridor, still lost in thought, he stopped abruptly at the sight before him. Tommen, his younger brother, had his face buried in the bosom of a maid—the same maid he'd been eyeing at the feast days ago. The girl was giggling softly, though Tommen's movements were awkward and shy, clearly unsure of what he was doing.
Joffrey sighed internally, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. *Still hasn't even made it past second base,* he thought with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. If Tommen didn't learn how to take what was his, it would create problems later. He needed to understand what it meant to be royalty, to wield power in all its forms.
Joffrey cleared his throat loudly, causing both Tommen and the maid to jump apart, wide-eyed and flushed with embarrassment. Tommen stammered, clearly flustered, while the maid quickly straightened her dress, avoiding eye contact.
"Enjoying yourself, brother?" Joffrey's voice was playful, but the authority behind it was unmistakable.
Tommen's face flushed even deeper, and he stammered a response. "I-I… I didn't mean to…"
Joffrey held up a hand, cutting him off with a chuckle. "Relax, Tommen. No need to get so flustered. But you've been spending time with this one for a while, haven't you?" His eyes flicked to the maid, who was still standing nervously by, biting her lip.
Tommen nodded, eyes still cast downward.
Joffrey smirked. "Both of you, come with me."
---
Back in Joffrey's chambers, he gestured for Tommen to sit on the edge of the bed, while the maid stood nearby, wringing her hands nervously. Joffrey leaned back against a chair, watching them both with a mix of amusement and impatience.
"How far have you gotten with her?" Joffrey asked, though his tone was more of a command than a question.
Tommen's face turned beet red, and he mumbled, "I've… I've kissed her chest."
Joffrey rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "That's it? You kiss her chest every day, but nothing more?"
Tommen nodded sheepishly, and Joffrey sighed, turning his gaze to the maid. "Strip," he ordered, his voice calm but firm.
The maid hesitated for only a moment before obeying, slipping out of her clothes until she was standing completely bare before them. She smiled slightly, a mischievous glint in her eye as she glanced at Tommen.
Joffrey looked at his younger brother. "Sit back and enjoy it. She's going to suck your cock, and you're going to let her."
Tommen looked hesitant, his hands fumbling as the maid knelt before him. He opened his mouth to protest, but Joffrey's voice cut through his uncertainty. "Do it, Tommen. You're a prince. She wants this, trust me."
The maid grinned, taking Tommen's length into her mouth as her ass lifted into the air, her movements slow and deliberate. Tommen let out a soft gasp, his body tensing as he watched her work.
Joffrey, watching the scene unfold, felt the familiar stirring of desire and stood behind the maid. Without a word, he undid his trousers, his cock hard as he entered her from behind. The maid moaned around Tommen, the sound muffled as Joffrey began thrusting into her, his hands gripping her hips tightly.
"See, Tommen," Joffrey said between thrusts, his voice steady even as the pleasure coursed through him. "If you get close enough to kiss her chest, you should go all the way. Don't hesitate. Take what's yours."
Tommen nodded,
his eyes wide as he looked down at the maid, her lips wrapped around his cock while Joffrey took her from behind. He let out a shuddering breath, his body tense, and it wasn't long before he released, his face a mix of shock and pleasure as the maid swallowed everything he gave her.
Joffrey pulled out of her, turning her onto the bed and taking her again, this time face-to-face. He fucked her hard, the bed creaking beneath them as Tommen watched, wide-eyed and silent. When Joffrey was finished, he released inside her, groaning as he filled her.
Once it was done, Joffrey sat back, catching his breath for a moment before tossing the maid a gold dragon. "Loose lips sink ships," he said calmly. "You should only use them when my brother or I require your services. Understood?"
The maid nodded, smiling as she dressed quickly, clearly pleased with the coin. She left without another word, slipping out of the room.
Joffrey turned to Tommen, who was still sitting there, looking a mix of confused and overwhelmed. "Next time, Tommen, don't be shy. Do what you want. But always ask if they need money first. Pay them before they leave."
Tommen nodded, fumbling to dress himself, and Joffrey gave him a small, approving nod. "Good. Now go take her to your room if you want. And tell one of the maids to clean this mess."
Tommen left quickly, and Joffrey collapsed back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was tired, but a small smile crept onto his face. Tommen would fall in line soon enough. All Joffrey had to do was be the brother he needed—and the father he never had.
And in the end, that was enough.
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