Joffrey - Tumblr Posts
YOU CANT EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED ☆ JOFFREY BARATHEON
Masterlist
Warnings: joffrey obviously, swearing, mentions of murder and war, mentions of incest.
Summary: being joffrey baratheons cupbearer as the last targaryen in Kings landing was bound to be eventful, just not in the way that pleases you. Until...
Notes: reader is FEMALE also to fit in with the context of this fic, joffrey is around 17-18 and the reader is 19 ish making her 6 years younger than viserys and 4 years older than daenerys in season 1
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Being born a targaryen was like a game of Russian roulette. You were either blessed with great kindness and gentleness or cursed with madness and cruelty. In your case, it had been the former thankfully.
According to the maesters and other occupants of Kings landing you had been the most peaceful of the three targaryen babies to have been born of aerys II, the mad king. You had never cried or wailed or screamed, only smiled and attempted to befriend any lord, lady, knight or servant who came to cross your path.
But when the rebellion came and your father was dethroned and executed by jaime lannister your life had been flipped. Your brother rhaegar was dead along with all of his children, your other brother viserys and your mother, pregnant with another targaryen had fled, leaving you.
You didn't know why. You were still only a child of 3. No one else seemed to know either. So, Robert baratheon, the new king of the seven Kingdoms, decided to keep you. You were to be raised in Kings landing by a nurse and tywin lannister, having worked on your father's council before his death, made sure that you were educated properly.
By the time you had turned ten years of age, it was almost that your taragryen lineage had been forgotten, except for the obvious snowy hair and violet eyes. But no one that actually mattered seemed to pay attention to it any more.
You had grown close to cersei lannister in your teenage years, despite her being almost twenty years older than yourself. She was nice to you and as you grew, so did her eldest son, Prince joffrey. And then her others, princess myrcella and Prince tommen.
You were a bright girl, smart and kind. You had even been known to summon a smile from the Knight commonly referred to as the hound, sandor clegane. However, you had very little friends and were often seen wandering around or sitting by the flowers in the gardens, staring out into the sea or the city below.
By the time you had turned ten and seven you were truly a sight to behold, having inherited the targaryen beauty of your ancestors. But, as the small council came to realise that marrying off the only targaryen in westeros to a rich or powerful lord may not have been the most amazing idea, the king decided to appoint you as joffreys cupbearer.
You were good for the job, you listened attentively, you were smart and quick. And most importantly there wasn't anything distinct about you that joffrey could complain of and have you removed for.
So that's what became of you. You became his cupbearer and followed him around the red keep, accompanied him on his hunts or his short journeys and poured his wine, brought him his food, or anything else he asked for. Of course you were not immune to his cruelty, the opposite actually. He often mocked your unnatural eyes and Strangely perfect competition, he called you a witch, trying to enchant the castle and accused you of whoring about with the knights although you had never been with anyone.
He overworked you and reprimanded you but you were always there to listen, happy to be given a chance. He noticed this and it aggravated him. To see someone who was supposed to be miserable so joyous at the idea of bringing the king his meals and wine and suffering his abuse day and night for the rest of his or her life.
It confused him, how he had his ways so easily with you but not through fear, anger or blackmail, but through pure loyalty and gratitude that your life had been spared and you had been given a chance and something other than death or imprisonment.
He wasn't stupid. He heard the Lords and ladies whisper as you walled behind him. He heard the knights mock as you passed by. Eventually it grew to anger him slightly whenever your name was put down or insulted.
Only he was allowed to do that. And that in mind, joffrey became rather possessive of you in a way.
You listened to him rant. Listened to his drone on about his parents or the peasants or his siblings. About the food and the weather and the sheets. About everything.
And that is how you ended up here, stood in his chambers, listening to him speak of the lady sansa stark and his new betrothal to her. And listening to him rave about how he was still expected to marry the traitors daughter. And you knew ned stark was no such a man, and you were sure he did to, but you listened all the same.
He paced quickly around the room, hands behind his back, until he was called for a meeting of the small council. He was quite busy as of late, what with stannis baratheons army, renly baratheons army aswell now. And the north's new rebellion, robb stark, son of the late ned, proclaiming himself king in the North and marching closer by the day.
Joffrey was the king now, and he was much more cruel as of late, and you thought about it on your way back to your chambers that night. They had been decent enough to give you a separate room in the servants quarters, what with your family name and the risks of you forming alliances that had become more prominently discussed in the recent months you had noticed.
You had heard that viserys was marrying off your sister to the dothraki khal in exchange for an army but the conversation was dropped a while ago.
You had changed into your nightgown and were now stood, brushing your hair gently and staring out of your window to the crashing waves below. They calmed you, but that calm was interrupted by a harsh collection of violent knocks at your door.
You had set aside the brush and quickly gone to answer. Noticing it was joffrey which was unusual as he always sent someone for you, never venturing anywhere near the servants end of the castle.
"Whatever is the matter, your grac-"
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, burying his head into your neck. He held you in an embrace and you were stunned for a moment, eyes wide and staring at sandor clegane who stood across the hall and shrugged and you.
You had slowly and anxiously returned the hug, moving your hand gently up and down his back as he slowly began to cry. It was almost silent hut you could feel him shaking.
"Your grace, do you-" you let out a breath. "Do you want to come in and sit for a moment?"
He nodded into your shoulder and you guided him into your room, ignoring the silent laughs from the hound as you closed the door, sitting joffrey down on your bed, he rested himself against the headboard, on the side closest to the window.
You had quickly grabbed him a cup of water and offered it to him, he took it and you stood infront of him cautiously.
"Are you alright, your grace?" You asked quietly.
He stopped his slow crying for a moment and looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours.
"I'm a terrible king. I don't know what to do about all the stupid Lords and ladies constantly wanting my attention. I don't know what to do about uncle renly or uncle stannis, about robb stark or my mother or anything."
Your face softened with sympathy for the boy king slightly as you replied.
"You are no such thing, your grace. War is a strange and chaotic thing, no one ever really, truly knows what to do. You're handling it well I'm sure of it, your grace."
He looked down into his lap and them out if the window and into the dark sky.
"Do you really think so?"
"I do, your grace."
He paused and and studied your face, your beautiful eyes and hair, your skin and lips, your figure and everything else about you.
"Why are you nice to me? I am nothing but cruel to you and yet you are happy to serve me. You listen and you don't tire of me. Why?"
"Because, your grace," you spoke softly. "I cannoted ever repay the generosity your family had shown me and I do not find it a chore to listen to you. I do not have any friends, I do not have people to speak to for no one ever wants the risk of speaking to the mad Kings Daughter. But you, your grace, you speak to me, about everything. About your problems, about your feelings. You don't see me as the targaryen girl, you see me as your cupbearer. Nothing more, nothing less, your grace."
You say nervously on the end of your bed, gazing at him. He gestured for you to sit closer and so you shuffled up the bed until you too were leaned against the headboard.
"Your grace, it is improper for someone such as yourself to be laying in such a room, are you sure I cannot escort you back to your chambers, get you some food or some wine?"
He didn't not reply, he just yet again stared out of the window.
"I think of you as much more than that you know." He mumbled.
"I'm sorry, your grace?" You asked, confounded by the statement.
"I think of you as much more than just my cupbearer. Much more."
"Your grace, i am afraid I do not understand quite what you are implyi-"
He lent forward slightly as cupped your check with his hand, his beautiful brown eyes staring into your own vivid, violet ones. He tinged his head slightly and kissed you.
His lips were soft and warm, his kiss gentle. Not at all like you had expected. He pulled away slowly, still keeping eye contact.
"Your grace, i-"
"Joffrey."
"I, I'm sorry i-" he placed a finger over your lips, shushing you softly.
"Just joffrey."
And he kissed you again, this time much more passionately, your lips moving in sync with each other and your heartbeats rising, bodies getting closer and closer.
And that is how you stayed until the morning when cersei found you both, but she never said a word, to either of you, instead choosing to leave quietly.
As she walked back down the corridor, she was joined by tyrion lannister and she looked down at him.
"Well that certainly was not expected to happen any time soon." He stated.
"Well, dear brother, you can't expect the unexpected, can you?