Joffrey clutched the leather-bound ledger as he strode back to their worksite, his boots crunching on scattered gravel. The morning sun had risen higher, making the stench worse as the day warmed. He found Tyrion perched on a stack of stone blocks, directing workers while nursing what looked like his third cup of wine.
"So," Tyrion drawled as Joffrey approached, "how was the viper's nest?"
"Predictable." Joffrey dropped the ledger beside his uncle with a thud. "Baelish gave me exactly what I wanted."
"A completely fabricated set of numbers?" Tyrion picked up the book, thumbing through pages of meticulously recorded falsehoods.
"Of course. Which means he'll try to trap us soon. He won't be able to resist."
"What can he really do?" Tyrion snorted. "You're the crown prince. He can't exactly accuse you of mismanaging funds."
"No," Joffrey leaned against the stones, watching workers haul another load of cement. "But he can go after you. The drunk dwarf stealing from the crown's coffers? That's a story the court would love."
Tyrion's face darkened. "Ah."
"Which is why we're going to use double-entry bookkeeping." Joffrey pulled out a fresh ledger from his satchel. "Two separate records of every transaction. When - not if - he springs his trap, we'll have proof of exactly where every copper went."
"Clever." Tyrion studied his nephew. "But that's not all, is it?"
A worker called out for guidance on positioning a drainage pipe. Joffrey held up a finger to Tyrion before walking over to correct the angle. When he returned, he was smiling.
"Let's just say the trap works both ways. Baelish thinks he's the only one who can play with numbers." Joffrey's grin turned predatory. "He'll learn differently soon enough."
They spent the rest of the morning checking measurements and adjusting plans. By midday, Joffrey's clothes were dust-covered and his hands were stained with ink from marking corrections. Perfect cover for what came next.
He made his way to his mother's chambers, knowing she'd be needing attention after the morning's council meeting. The guards recognized him instantly, stepping aside without a word. He pushed open the heavy door to find a familiar scene - though one that made him frown slightly.
Myrcella was straddling Cersei's lap, both of them naked and flushed. Beautiful, yes, but dangerous. They couldn't risk separate visits drawing attention. He'd need to find Myrcella her own companion soon, someone who could keep her satisfied and quiet.
He cleared his throat. Both women turned, golden hair swishing. Cersei's eyes lit up as she beckoned him over. "Join us, my love."
Joffrey stripped efficiently, letting his dirty clothes fall where they may. He settled back against the pillows, and immediately had warm bodies pressed against either side. Cersei's lips found his neck, while Myrcella - surprisingly bold - mirrored her mother's actions on his other side.
He glanced at his sister, but she just winked and pressed a finger to her lips before returning to kissing and nipping at his skin. Their hands found his hardening cock together, stroking in practiced motions.
"Mmm," Myrcella purred against his ear, "why sewers, brother? Of all the projects you could choose..." She ground herself against his hip, wet and wanting.
Cersei hummed agreement, hand speeding up. "We're all curious, darling. Such an... unusual interest."
Joffrey rolled his eyes, recognizing the attempted manipulation. Still, with both of them working him so skillfully, he saw no harm in talking.
"Simple, really," he groaned as Cersei twisted her wrist just right. "I don't intend to rule a city drowning in its own shit."
"Is that all?" Myrcella's other hand traced patterns on his chest. "Just practical concerns?"
"What else would it be?" He reached down to slide fingers through her folds, making her gasp. "Though I suppose it helps that a clean city is a healthy city. Fewer plagues, stronger people..."
Cersei moved to straddle him, her golden hair cascading down as she sank onto his length with a throaty moan. "Show me how you'll rule us, my king."
"Like this," he growled, gripping her hips as she rode him. "Taking what's mine whenever I want it."
Above him, Myrcella ground against his tongue seeking her pleasure, completely focused on the physical sensation. She seemed to be thinking of someone else entirely, which suited Joffrey fine - he understood her preferences.
"Yes," Cersei panted, "take what's yours... claim me..." She leaned down to kiss Myrcella deeply. Their sister eagerly returned the kiss, far more passionate with Cersei than she'd been with him.
"And what of me, brother?" Myrcella gasped as his skilled tongue worked her. "Will you protect my... interests too?"
Joffrey pulled back just enough to answer: "Any woman you desire will be yours. I'll make sure of it." He thrust up hard into Cersei, making her cry out. "No one will ever dare question what makes you happy."
"Make me yours," Cersei panted, riding him faster, "show me who I belong to... ahhhh!"
"Mine," he snarled, his fingers digging into Cersei's hips while his tongue continued pleasing Myrcella. "All mine..."
"They'll never touch us," Myrcella moaned, clearly imagining some future lover as she ground down. "Never judge us... ohhhh gods..."
"They'll worship us," Cersei cried out, walls clenching around him. "Forever yours... only yours..."
"Together," Joffrey roared, driving up harder into Cersei while expertly pleasuring Myrcella. "All of us... free to love as we choose..."
They peaked nearly simultaneously - Myrcella first, crying out and flooding his tongue as she imagined some future paramour, then Cersei collapsing forward as her orgasm hit, and finally Joffrey roaring his release into their mother's depths.
As they lay catching their breath, Cersei curled possessively around Joffrey while Myrcella lounged more casually beside them.
"I'll find you someone perfect," Joffrey told his sister softly. "Someone beautiful, discrete, and worthy of you. Someone who'll make you as happy as mother makes me."
Myrcella smiled genuinely at that. "And when people whisper?"
"Let them." He squeezed Cersei closer while giving Myrcella a knowing look. "Anyone who dares question our happiness will learn the price of crossing lions."
"My magnificent beast," Cersei purred. Myrcella just smiled, already dreaming of the female companions Joffrey would arrange for her.
They dozed briefly before Joffrey roused them, helping them dress with practiced care. He checked them both for marks, straightened their hair, made sure they were perfect once more.
"Remember," he warned as he prepared to leave, "only when I'm here to ensure we're not watched. We can't risk discovery. Not yet."
They nodded in understanding - each for their own reasons. He left them to their afterglow, heading to meet Barristan for training. The day was only half done, and there were many more moves to make in this game.
Ser Barristan was waiting in the training yard, two blunted tourney swords already in hand. The old knight's eyes narrowed at Joffrey's slightly disheveled appearance.
"You've been busy with those sewers, my prince," Barristan said, tossing him a sword. "I fear you're neglecting your martial pursuits."
Joffrey caught the blade with practiced ease, testing its weight. "Come now, Ser Barristan. Surely we can spare a few jests before you thrash me?"
The old knight's stern expression cracked slightly. "As you wish, my prince. Though I hear it's not just sewers keeping you occupied. Your brother seems to be following your... example with the castle staff."
They began circling each other, boots scuffing in the dirt. Joffrey lunged experimentally, met with an easy parry.
"Tommen?" Joffrey grinned, dancing back from a counter-strike. "Let him have his fun. He's young, and the maids seem happy enough."
Steel rang against steel as they exchanged a series of blows. "We haven't spoken much," Barristan noted, "since that business with the Stark girl."
"Been occupied." Joffrey barely deflected a vicious overhead cut. "Though I doubt saving one girl warrants much discussion."
"You could have been knighted for it." Barristan pressed forward with a combination that forced Joffrey to give ground. "Risking your life for another is no small thing."
"It wasn't even a proper fight," Joffrey scoffed, breathing heavily. "No swords, no glory. Just a raging fire and a frightened girl."
"Knighthood isn't just about bravery in battle." The old knight's blade was everywhere at once, forcing Joffrey to defend frantically.
"No?" Joffrey managed through gritted teeth. "Brave men are a plenty, why aren't there more knights."
"True enough." Barristan's attacks grew even more relentless. "Maybe because knighthood is about having the power to make that bravery mean something. Now, tel me about these sewers - why are you really doing it?"
"As I said to many people," Joffrey panted, barely keeping up. "Don't want to rule a shithole."
Barristan's overhead swing came down like thunder. "LIE!"
Joffrey's knee hit the dirt as he barely caught the blow. His arms trembled with the effort of holding back the old knight's strength.
"There's more, Do not tell me what you have told everyone else, tell me why.." Barristan pressed, both verbally and physically. "Why really?"
Joffrey looked Barristan dead in the eye "Because they'll die!" he whispered, emotion raw in his voice. "The smallfolk in Flea Bottom, the children in the streets - one bad outbreak and they'll die by the thousands! Because they live in their own filth and no one cares enough to change it!"
The pressure lifted. Barristan stepped back, offering a hand. Joffrey took it, rising unsteadily to his feet.
"There will come a day," the old knight said softly, "when you will be knighted. I will live till then to just to have the chance to Knight you my prince."
Joffrey met his eyes, still breathing hard. "The pride will be mine, Ser Barristan."
The old knight smiled, raising his sword again. "Now then, shall we continue? Your footwork still needs work."
They fought on through the afternoon, the clash of steel echoing across the yard. And if Joffrey's strikes seemed to carry more purpose than before, well, Barristan was wise enough not to mention it.