Jeoffrey: The Hedonist (SI)

The morning sun glinted off polished armor as Joffrey approached the training yard, drawn by the rhythmic thwacking of wood on wood. He found an unexpected sight - his younger brother Tommen wielding a wooden poleaxe against a practice dummy, movements fluid under Ser Barristan's watchful eye.

"Plant your back foot more firmly," the old knight instructed. "The weapon's reach means nothing if you can't anchor yourself properly."

"What's this then?" Joffrey called out, leaning against the fence. "Training your sword with a poleaxe now eh!"

Tommen's face flushed but he held the poleaxe steady. "Ser Barristan says I have a natural talent for it."

"Indeed," Barristan confirmed. "The young prince has excellent instincts for the weapon's balance. Most boys his age can barely lift one."

"Is that so?" Joffrey's eyes glinted with interest. "Care to demonstrate, brother? Against a moving target this time?"

Tommen hesitated only briefly before nodding. Joffrey grabbed a practice sword and shield, rolling his shoulders as he stepped into the ring.

"Just remember - no strikes above the shoulders," Barristan cautioned.

The brothers circled each other warily. Tommen made the first move, a probing thrust that Joffrey easily deflected. But the younger prince recovered quickly, using the weapon's length to keep his brother at bay.

"Not bad," Joffrey grunted, testing Tommen's defense with quick cuts. "Been practicing long?"

"Few months now." Tommen's breathing was steady as he blocked and countered. "Helps work off... excess energy."

"Speaking of energy..." Joffrey grinned wickedly. "noticed you've been visiting the servant's quarters quite often. Finding ways to stay warm at night?"

Tommen's face went crimson but his grip remained firm. "They... they don't seem to mind..."

"Mind? Of course they don't mind spreading their legs for a prince," Joffrey laughed, launching a series of strikes that forced Tommen back. "Just remember don't go for the fish that flocks to you. Go for the fish that runs away." Joffrey paused to contemplate what he said before explaining in caution "I meant charm the fish not Rape it and make sure there are no Bastards"

"I'm careful," Tommen assured him between parries. "Always pull out or... Moon tea for them."

"Good lad." Joffrey increased his pace, mixing in shield bashes that rattled his brother's defense. "Though you might want to work on your stamina more..."

The fight ended predictably - Tommen sprawled in the dirt, poleaxe knocked aside. But he'd lasted longer than Joffrey expected.

"Well fought," Joffrey offered his hand. "Keep practicing and you might actually become dangerous."

As Tommen caught his breath, Joffrey turned to Barristan. "Care for a round yourself, Ser? Been a while since you've properly tested me."

The old knight's eyes narrowed slightly but he nodded, taking up a practice sword. They squared off as Tommen cleared the ring.

Barristan moved like quicksilver despite his age, blade whistling through the air. Their weapons clashed with resounding cracks that echoed across the yard.

"Heard you've been questioning my methods, Ser Barristan," Joffrey said between exchanges, shield absorbing a particularly vicious cut.

"A king's justice should be measured, my prince." Barristan's blade danced, probing for openings. "What happened with Lord Baelish..."

"Was exactly what he deserved," Joffrey growled, launching an aggressive combination. "You think embezzlement is just some minor offense? While he lined his pockets, common folk starved."

Their weapons locked. Barristan's weathered face was inches from his. "Everyone at court takes their share. It's how the game is played."

"Fuck the game!" Joffrey broke the lock with a savage push. "When farmers can't afford seed because taxation is triple what it should be... when fishermen can't repair their nets because tariffs are being 'redirected'... that's a game that kills more than it helps!"

His attacks grew fiercer, forcing even the legendary knight to give ground. "You want to know what Littlefinger's 'game' cost? Count the beggars in Flea Bottom. Count the children with hollow eyes and ribs showing. Count the bodies in the streets when winter comes!"

"Your father-" Barristan started, deflecting a brutal overhead slash.

"My father drinks and whores while the realm rots!" Joffrey's blade hammered against the knight's guard. "Someone had to act. Someone had to show that actions have consequences!"

"Without trial?" Barristan's voice was sharp as he spun away from a thrust. "Without proper procedure? It reminded me of-"

"Of Aerys?" Joffrey laughed bitterly, rage making his strikes wilder. "Tell me Ser Barristan, how many innocents did you watch that mad fuck burn? How many times did you stand there, bound by your precious oaths while he committed atrocities?"

The old knight's eyes flashed. In a movement too fast to follow, he sidestepped Joffrey's attack and swept his legs. The prince crashed down hard, sword flying from his grip. Barristan's blade pressed against his throat.

"Yield," the knight commanded.

Joffrey lay there panting, teeth bared in a feral grin. "Answer the question, Ser. Should Baelish have lived? Should we have given him a proper trial so he could buy his way free? Let him keep bleeding the realm while we followed proper procedure?"

Barristan held his gaze for a long moment before lowering his sword. "The manner of his death troubled me, not the necessity of it. It... echoed things I would rather forget."

"You'll spend the rest of your life seeing echoes of Aerys," Joffrey said quietly, accepting the knight's hand up. "Because that's what humans are - we're capable of both greatness and monstrosity. The mad king showed us our worst. Maybe it's time someone showed a different path, a greater path."

"And what path is that, my prince?"

Joffrey retrieved his fallen weapon, testing his bruised shoulder. "One where oaths don't mean watching injustice happen. Where doing nothing in the face of evil isn't considered honorable." He met the old knight's eyes. "Where good men like you don't have to carry guilt for following bad orders."

He turned and walked away, leaving Barristan standing thoughtfully in the practice yard. The prince's shoulders were tight with frustration - always having to prove himself different from Aerys, always fighting the shadows of the past. But the fault wasn't his. It lay in a system that valued blind obedience over moral action.

Well, he would change that system so that it is atleast a little better.

After the training yard, Joffrey's body ached pleasantly from exertion as he made his way through the Keep's corridors. A gangly page intercepted him, practically tripping over his own feet.

"Your Grace! Lady Stark awaits you in the eastern solar."

Joffrey found her perched stiffly in a high-backed chair, still in her riding clothes. Her auburn hair was windswept from travel, but she carried herself with that same quiet dignity he remembered from Winterfell. Their eyes met, and for a moment he saw a flash of something - memory perhaps, of their time in the North.

"Lady Stark," he inclined his head. "I trust your journey was uneventful?"

"As much as can be expected on the Kingsroad these days," she replied carefully, her voice neutral. "Though I notice the roads are much improved from my last visit."

"Amazing what proper maintenance can do," Joffrey settled into a chair across from her. "Speaking of the North - how fare your younger sons? I hear Bran's taken well to his duties."

"Yes, he is" she paused, that familiar shadow crossing her face whenever Bran's accident was near mention. "The maesters say his martial training progresses well, despite the assaasination attempt jolting him. He's determined to excel, perhaps even more so now."

"Good lad. And Rickon? He's with you?"

"He is. I thought..." she smoothed her skirts, a nervous gesture. "He's young yet, but as a third son, his prospects..."

"Court will serve him well," Joffrey nodded. "Plenty of opportunities for a young lord to make his mark here. Assuming he can be properly directed by someone from court."

Her lips tightened slightly into a thin smile. "My youngest has rather strong opinions about direction."

"Wolf blood," Joffrey grinned. "Nothing wrong with that, properly channeled of course."

They continued exchanging careful pleasantries, both aware of the tension crackling beneath. Finally, Joffrey decided to lance the wound.

"I imagine news of Petyr's death reached you in the North."

The change was immediate. Her composed mask cracked, raw grief and anger bleeding through.

"Was such cruelty necessary?" she whispered, hands clenching in her lap. "He was..."

"A childhood friend" Joffrey's voice was understanding but not soothing. "A treasured memory from Riverrun, I understand but those memories cannot erase the crimes he committed while he lined his pockets"

"You had him butchered in the street like an animal!" Tears spilled down her cheeks now.

"I had him executed like the criminal he was," Joffrey countered evenly. "His schemes and embezzlement cost countless lives. The realm bled while he played his games."

She broke then, her complicated emotions spilling out in wracking sobs. Joffrey moved to her, gathering her into his arms. She resisted briefly before collapsing against his chest.

"Let it out," he murmured into her hair, breathing in her familiar scent. "It's alright."

When her crying softened to hiccups, he tilted her chin up. Her lips were salt-wet from tears as he claimed them. She melted into the kiss with a soft whimper of need.

"Tonight," he whispered when they parted. "Your daughters' chambers. If you want more comfort from me."

She nodded almost imperceptibly before fleeing the room. Joffrey watched her go, anticipation curling in his gut. Three Stark women in one night... now that would be something to remember.

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Sorry I had to take a long break because of an accident, I heard authors usually have those for no reason but now I believe it. Nothing serious happened just a broken leg and I could not write incest smut while my mom hovered around me (Yes the guy who writes incest is not actually interested in it himself) and was taking care of me