𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | Snakes in the Grass

{ Joffrey }

✧✦✧

𝕿he chamber had only just fallen silent, Mikael fast asleep in his crib, Lyra beside him. Joffrey eased himself up from the bed, after pressing a kiss to Lyra's head, closing the door to the bedroom as softly as he possibly could. Elia opened one eye, stretching as she weaved around Joffrey's leg.

"Elia," Joffrey made sure to give the large wolf a lot of attention, knowing that the dog was missing Lyra and being able to climb on the bed. Lyra had banned her from doing so, fearing that Elia might accidentally roll over and crush the baby, for the large dog did not know her own strength sometimes. "Do you want some bacon?"

Elia's tail thumped against the floor, causing Joffrey to chuckle lightly and hand the dog the meat. Her tail grew faster, swishing along the stone like a broom, as Joffrey sat down in the head of the chair.

The pair were silent, leaving Joffrey to flick through notes on Small Council meetings and propositions that were being brought forward for him to review. Elia lay across his feet, warming his toes and chewing on her bacon.

"Your Grace?" Joffrey looked up, seeing Rolan in the doorway. "Sorry to disturb you, but Lord Baelish is here to talk to you."

"Baelish?" Joffrey cocked an eyebrow. He had been under the impression that Baelish was still at the Eyrie. "Why is he here?"

"I'm not sure, Your Grace," Rolan replied. "Shall I send him in?"

"Fine,"

"Thank you for allowing me to speak to you at such a time, Your Grace," Petyr Baelish looked much the same as the last time that Joffrey had seen him, a simpering smile on his face as he tried to suck up to the young king. "I must say, congratulations to you and your wife on the birth of your heir."

Joffrey inclined his head, as Elia shook and stood up to rest her head on the table and glare at Baelish. The young king ran a hand through Elia's fur, scratching behind her ear as he wondered why the rat was here.

"What can I do for you, Baelish?"

"I was just coming to ask for information as I recently found out that Loras Tyrell was arrested by the Faith," Lord Baelish shook his head. "How terrible for the Princess Margaery to have her brother arrested."

"Is there a point that you are trying to make or are you trying to see whether or not this information is correct?"

"I have a point, Your Grace," Joffrey waved his hand, waiting for the man to get on with it. "I was wondering how you plan on getting Loras Tyrell out."

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Joffrey knew, at that moment, that there was a reason for this conversation and Joffrey doubted he would like it when it was brought up once more. 

"I was sorry to hear of your loss, Lord Baelish," Elia yawned, showcasing her teeth in the process. "The death of a wife is a tragedy."

"Lysa was a good woman and a kind woman." 

"She was neither of those things, we both know it." Baelish shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in front of the blond man. "Still, I pity her son. How fortunate that the young Lord of the Vale has a new father to counsel him."

"I know how hard it can be to lose both of your parents at such a young age," Joffrey sighed. "You must also know how hard it is to lose a parent as a young teenager?"

"Yes, the loss of my father affected me greatly," He waved it off, turning onto another topic as swiftly as he could. "What about the Knights of the Vale? Who should they fight for if there should be another war to come?" 

"Young Lord Robyn heeds my advice. And I have always counselled loyalty to the throne," That was a blatant lie if ever Joffrey had heard one. The man in front of him wouldn't know the meaning of loyalty even if it rose up to slap him in the face.

"Good, if there's nothing else..." Joffrey motioned for the man to use the door, hoping that he would leave.

"There is another matter, Your Grace. Something so urgent I couldn't trust the words to a raven," Joffrey cocked an eyebrow. "You once charged me with finding Arya Stark. To my shame I failed you. But I have found Sansa Stark, alive and safe at Dreadfort."

"That's not possible," This caught Joffrey's attention.

"My sources are well placed," Baelish leaned forward towards the king, who managed to keep a grimace off of his face. "They tell me Roose Bolton plans to marry the girl to his son, Ramsay Bolton, who was recently legitimized by you."

Joffrey could faintly remember having signed the papers that confirmed this, a little over a year ago. Licking his lips, he tried to work out if he had ever heard of the man before and if so, where he had heard the name.

"Why hasn't her brother done anything yet?" Surely, if Sansa was in the North then both Robb and Jon would have heard about it. "Robb's alive, is he not?"

"He is, Your Grace. But he's preparing for a battle against Stannis Baratheon, who rides down from the wall as we speak," Baelish stated causing Joffrey to nod. Jon had mentioned that he was at Castle Black and Joffrey had assumed that he had then told Robb after the letter had been sent to Lyra. "He does not have the forces to try and attack Dreadfort and take back Sansa Stark."

"Well, we need her back,"

"The Knights of the Vale are some of the best fighters in Westeros, trained to battle in the ice and the snow," Baelish began. "Let me help you get Sansa Stark back from the Boltons."

"You want something in return, I presume?" Joffrey raised an eyebrow.

"Name me Warden of the North, let me help you," This man was a fool if he believed that Joffrey would ever allow him to wield such power.

"I'd have to talk to the Small Council," Joffrey replied, scratching behind Elia's ear. "Now, if you would leave me to my thoughts, I'd be more than happy."

✧✦✧

As the midday sun finally waned, Joffrey abandoned his work to take Elia out for a walk through the gardens. Both of them needed a change of scenery, and a chance to stretch their legs before Joffrey was pulled back into an afternoon of meetings.

"Your Grace," Joffrey froze, a hand resting on his sword, before he spun around to see Lady Olenna Tyrell striding towards him. "Walk with me."

Her tone meant that Joffrey had little choice but to obey the woman, who's sharp tongue was well known amongst the court.

"Of course." He fought the urge to tense up, relaxing his muscles as she slipped her arm through his.

"So, did you order Loras' arrest?"

"No,"

"Yes, I suppose you're not stupid enough to risk Lyra's wrath as well as ours," Olenna nodded to herself. "I'll assume that it was your mother then."

"I'd assume that as well," 

"I see," Olenna nodded as Margaery appeared around the corner, her dress lifted up as she ran towards them as lady like as she could manage. "I might go and talk to your mother and I shall leave you to speak with my granddaughter."

"Yes, my Lady," The Queen of Thorns huffed, nodded her head once before leaving the two royals to their talk as Joffrey was swept from one conversation to another. "Margaery."

"I've just come from your wife and son, who are both the epitome of health," Margaery had caught her breath, hooking her arm through Joffrey's and steering him the other way. The king merely raised an eyebrow at how fast the Tyrell women talked. "You know that my brother is to stand trial?"

"Yes, in two days,"

"They moved it, to this afternoon,"

"Tell me that you are joking," Joffrey growled, having been looking forward to finishing his work early and then having time with his wife and son. Now that the trial was this afternoon, all of Joffrey's meetings would have to be pushed back and thus he wouldn't be free until late that evening when Lyra and Mikael were already fast asleep.

"Unfortunately not," Margaery sighed. "Will you still be there?"

"Yes." Joffrey sighed, wondering if this was a deliberate tactic on the High Sparrow's behalf. "Tommen has asked for my support and I will support both you and him in this time." 

✧✦✧

"You are aware of the rumours concerning you and Renly?" The High Sparrow was interrogating Loras, walking around him as he sat on the chair. Joffrey sighed, cracking his knuckles quietly as the thought of all the things that he could be doing instead of listening to a religious fanatic interrogate someone for the fun of it. 

"I don't pay attention to rumours," Cersei caught Joffrey's eyes, her own cold and harsh causing Joffrey to glare.

"You were said to be despondent when he died. Witnesses said that you refused to leave his bedside, even as Stannis' army closed in," The heat was stifling, and a drop of sweat trickled down the back of Joffrey's neck and down the collar of his shirt. He briefly glanced at the window, wondering how Lyra was coping in the heat and if Mikael was alright. He knew that his wife still adored the Northern weather and often found the heat to be stifling.

"He was my friend. He was my king," Loras commented and Joffrey brought himself back into the conversation.

"Isn't King Joffrey Baratheon your king? He was anointed by the 7, not Renly?" This conversation was pointless, yet the only thing stopping Joffrey from storming from the room was the fact that his brother was beside him and looking worried.

"I was wrong to support Renly's claim. I know that. But I was forgiven by his grace," Loras and the High Sparrow looked at Joffrey for confirmation, who nodded. "I fought for him at the Battle of the Blackwater."

"Wearing Renly's armour?"

"Why does it matter what I wore?" Loras was confused and Joffrey had to admit, so was he.

"Do you deny all of the charges against you? Fornication, buggery, blasphemy," The High Sparrow was circling the man again and Joffrey began to take note of just how many armed, faith militants there were in the room. He was the only one in their party with a weapon on him, his sword strapped to one side and a dagger on his back.

Tommen had trained with a sword only once, having cut himself on a training sword that same day and Cersei had never forced him to go back. As Joffrey was the heir to the throne, he was forced to train in sword fighting and no matter how many times he was injured or broke bones, he still went back and fought.

Loras was walking back over to their row of chairs by the time that Joffrey had finished analysing the exits to the room, looking pale and shaky.

"Well, I think that's quite enough of that," Olenna called, standing up to stalk out of the room.

"Faith calls Princess Margaery forward," Joffrey stiffened, catching eyes with Margaery, who looked scared.

"You call me forward?" Joffrey raised an eyebrow at the man, wondering what he was planning and if it should have been run past him first.

"Yes, we have some questions for you," Margaery conceded, standing and walking to the stand as the High Sparrow continued his questioning. She sat stiff, like a board, unsure of what to do. "How do you respond to these charges against your brother?"

"They are lies," Margaery said firmly, smiling in her brother's direction. Tommen also looked nervous, but Joffrey tried to reassure him with a nod.

"All of them?"

"All of them," Margaery nodded her head and Joffrey sent her a half-smile. As soon as this was all over, they could go back to their normal lives and forget that this had ever taken place.

"Princess Margaery, in the presence of the gods, do you swear that your brother is innocent of these charges against him, to the best of your knowledge?" The High Sparrow was circling round her again, causing the tension in the room to rise.

"Yes, I swear it."

"Thank you, Your Grace," The High Sparrow motioned for the door to be opened, a thin man walking in, who Joffrey faintly recognized, though he didn't know from where. Loras was looking at him in shock, whilst Cersei smiled happily, which normally meant trouble for everyone else. "Do you know this man?"

"Yes, very well," The man wouldn't look anybody in the eye, staring instead at the floor. "He is Ser Loras Tyrell, heir to Highgarden."

"How did you come to meet?" The High Sparrow also looked smug and Joffrey placed a hand on his sword.

"I squired for him. He took a liking to me. He summoned me to his chamber the first day we met," This wasn't good. If this man was telling the truth, then things were going to end up differently.

"And what occurred in his chamber?"

"We engaged in intimate relations." Loras and Margaery grew tense on the other side of Joffrey, who was growing more agitated in the small room. Tommen caught eyes with his older brother, scared for what was about to happen. Joffrey shook his head minutely, taking a deep breath and mimicking for his brother to do the same.

"You laid with him?"

"That night and many others." The tension in the room was growing with every sentence the man was uttering.

"Is there anyone else who can support your claim?" Loras was muttering under his breath, tensing up as he prepared for a fight.

"Yes, yes, Princess Margaery. She walked in on us once not long ago. She didn't seem surprised," Joffrey shook his head, now remembering where he had seen the man before. Suddenly, Petyr Baelish's words from that morning were making far more sense. 

"Why should we take the word of someone who works for Petyr Baelish, a man who lies and schemes to get his way?" Joffrey asked, standing up and brushing off his jacket. "I think we're done here. I won't have you imprisoning any member of the royal family, immediate or extended on the word of a squire desperate to have his five minutes of good fortune taking down a wealthy family."

"With all due respect, Your Grace, that is not your decision to make." Joffrey paused, turning around to glare over his shoulder at the man.

"Excuse me?" The High Sparrow didn't falter, watching him with narrowed eyes.

"This is a matter of Faith and if you do not agree with this then we'll have no choice but to arrest all others we think are breaking the rules of the New Gods, especially those who do not follow our ways," Joffrey stalked towards him, ignoring the Faith Militants drawing weapons.

"You may be the Faith, High Sparrow, but I am the King of the Seven Kingdoms. One word from me and I can have you all killed." He stared down at the man, eyes flashing dangerously. "And if you so much as talk about my wife, no, if you so much as look in the direction of my wife, I will gouge your eyes from your head with my bare hands."

"You dare speak to a member..."

"I'll speak to any man who threatens my wife that way," Joffrey glared vehemently. "I warned you not to get on the wrong side of me, so you better watch your fucking mouth."

He sent the many another glare, before spinning on his heels and walking out, Margaery and Tommen hot on his heels.

Hiya,

Well, Joff is just overprotective and slightly psychotic but we love him for it. This is also about to get interesting because now he's in a bad mood with the High Sparrow and Cersei.

Let me know what you think,

Love Li xx