Jeoffrey: The Hedonist (SI)

The royal retinue finally began moving once again, the clattering of hooves on the Kingsroad a familiar sound. Joffrey sat tall in the saddle, his back straight despite the soreness that lingered from the fire three months ago. His scars had healed, but he felt the tightness of the skin across his back with every movement. He had learned to hide the discomfort, though, and now he maintained a carefully calculated silence as the group traveled. It was better this way—his reputation had been bolstered during the journey north, and there was no need to ruin that by speaking carelessly.

They had been on the road for months, traveling the winding path southward back to King's Landing. The city was now on the horizon, a distant silhouette against the sun's dying light. Harrenhal had been a brief reprieve, but the weight of the capital's political games would soon be upon them. Here, every move would be watched, every word scrutinized.

Joffrey had already said his farewells to Jaime, who had left the group a day earlier to head west to Casterly Rock. He had promised Jaime he would send him some marriage suggestions, though he knew his uncle wasn't too eager about tying himself to a lady. Now, Joffrey rode beside Tyrion, the one man he trusted enough to let his guard down around, at least for brief moments.

"You'll be spending some time in Baelish's brothels when we return, I assume?" Joffrey asked, his voice low but tinged with amusement.

Tyrion glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "I'm insulted, dear nephew. You make me sound like a common spy."

Joffrey snorted. "Please. You'd be there anyway. This way, we get some useful information out of it."

Tyrion chuckled, brushing snow off his coat as the road began to widen. "True enough. I'll make sure I don't spend all the royal coffers while I'm at it."

Joffrey smiled faintly. "I appreciate it. Just… keep your eyes on Baelish. He'll slip if you watch him closely enough."

They rode in silence for a while after that, the cold winds cutting through the warmth of their cloaks. Joffrey's thoughts drifted back to King's Landing—its dangerous web of spies, whispers, and betrayals. He knew that as soon as they returned, the games would begin anew. He had to be ready, and he had to be smarter than everyone around him.

By the time they reached the city, the sun had set, and the streets were dark, lit only by the flickering glow of torches. Joffrey dismounted in the courtyard, his legs stiff from the long ride. He had barely set foot inside the Red Keep when Cersei found him.

She looked him over, her eyes lingering on his face. "I'm surprised you're not rushing to see your little Stark girl," she said, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

Joffrey shrugged, his face unreadable. "I've had enough of her for the journey. Now that we're back in King's Landing, there are more pressing matters."

Cersei moved closer, her perfume intoxicating. She placed her hand on his chest, her fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of his tunic. "I was content with having Myrcella for a month, but I've missed you, Joffrey. I've missed having you inside me."

Joffrey's expression hardened. "The walls have ears, Mother."

Cersei's lips curved into a smirk. "If the walls had ears, I would have been caught decades ago."

He sighed, glancing around the room. "They'll wait until the moment is right to reveal what they know."

Cersei, suddenly angry, stepped back. "Where are these men in the walls, Joffrey? If they exist, show them to me."

Joffrey picked up a large hammer from the corner of the room, his fingers tightening around the handle. Without warning, he swung it into a nearby wooden cupboard, smashing the wood into splinters. As the pieces fell away, the dim light of the room illuminated the small, crumpled body of a child hidden in the space behind the cupboard.

Cersei gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She stared at the dead child, eyes wide with horror. "Gods… Joffrey, what…?"

He pointed to the small tunnels behind the cupboard, faintly glowing with the light of torches. "The walls do have eyes."

Cersei stepped forward, peering into the dark tunnel. "Who are they? How did you…?"

"I've been tapping the walls, listening for hollow spots. I knew they were there." Joffrey turned to her, his face cold. "I know whose spies they are, and if we go after them too soon, they'll reveal everything. For now, this dead boy is a warning. Spying on me will not be tolerated."

Cersei looked at him, her fear slowly melting into pride. "You're smarter than I give you credit for."

Joffrey grabbed her, pulling her into a rough kiss, his hands bunching up her skirt. "The spy has nothing on me yet," he murmured against her lips. "Nothing that can be used while Robert is still alive."

Her hands roamed through his hair as she whispered, "You mentioned 'the spy.' Is this what Varys calls his 'little birds'?"

Joffrey stepped back, releasing her skirt. "You're perceptive."

Cersei gave him a smug smile. "It comes with the game."

Joffrey's face grew serious again. "We can't touch Varys yet. Not until the time is right."

"And when will that be?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

"When he can't escape."

Cersei kissed him again, hungry and demanding. Joffrey pushed her onto the bed, tearing at her clothes as his hands slid across her body. "I missed your tight cunt," he growled, pressing his lips to her neck.

Cersei moaned softly, her hand sliding between his legs, stroking him through his clothes. "And I missed my son's cock. So big…"

Joffrey yanked off his clothes, not bothering to be gentle as he threw them aside. "We have until they find the dead boy to have our way with each other."

He thrust into her hard, his body slamming against hers as the bed creaked beneath them. Cersei gasped, her nails digging into his back as she writhed beneath him. "You're such a motherfucker," he grunted, his pace quickening. "And I love going back to where I came from."

He pounded into her harder, both of them consumed by the forbidden thrill of it all. Their bodies moved together in a frenzy, lost in the heat of the moment until Joffrey finally spilled inside her with a grunt of satisfaction.

He leaned back for a moment, catching his breath, but Cersei wasn't done. She crawled toward him, her ass swaying as she knelt between his legs, her mouth wrapping around his already hardening cock. Joffrey groaned, gripping her hair tightly as he forced her head up and down, thrusting into her throat with reckless abandon.

"Do you want your son back inside you?" he taunted, pulling her up by the hair.

Cersei's eyes were wild, her mouth wet with saliva as she nodded numbly. "Yes…"

Joffrey grinned, pushing her onto all fours and entering her again, this time from behind. He grabbed her hair like reins, pulling her head back as he fucked her harder, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room. Cersei almost moaned too loudly, but Joffrey leaned forward, turning her head to the side and kissing her roughly, muffling her sounds as he kept thrusting.

He grabbed her neck, pushing her face down into the pillow as he increased his pace, the force of his thrusts making the bed shake. Cersei moaned into the pillow, her body shuddering as Joffrey grunted and came inside her once more.

They collapsed beside each other, breathing heavily. Joffrey lay back, a satisfied grin on his face. "I could go again," he said, though his body ached with exhaustion.

Cersei shook her head, smiling weakly. "I'm done for the night."

Joffrey got up and began dressing, helping Cersei back into her clothes as well. "You can sleep here," he offered. "I'll tell anyone who asks that you were tired and fell asleep while we were talking."

Cersei shook her head. "I have other matters to attend to." She kissed him one last time before slipping out of the room.

Joffrey watched her go, leaning back on the bed with a smirk. *Thank the gods for giving me a mother so simple*, he thought. *Sex and power, that's all she craves. Not so different from most men, really.*

His mind wandered briefly to the dead boy hidden in the walls. He'd let Varys know not to fuck with him because sooner or later there will come a time when he will bring the dragon queen herself to Joffrey's knees. But one day, when the time was right, the Master of Whisperers would be dealt with too.

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