Game of Thrones Imagines Book Two

Fear and love - Joffrey x Reader

It has been a while since I did something to do with Joffrey, and I got this idea in my head. I hope that you like it. And if you do, then perhaps there might be a part 2. 

No one was sure when it started. No one was sure how it had come to be. Perhaps it was the old story, that she had come from her mother's womb snarling and roaring. That she had been born with claws and sharp teeth. That her first toy had been a sword. And that during Robert's Rebellion, when she had been still naught but a child, she had killed more than her fair share of the mad dragon's men. But whatever the case, there was not a soul in the Seven Kingdoms that did not fear (Y/n) Lannister. Even the Hound himself had more than a healthy respect for the third of Tywin's children. The scars that littered her skin, evidence to all, that the lady had never expected anyone else to fight her battles for her. But of all the souls that called Westeros home, one feared the lioness more than any other. And that was Joffrey. Yet with that fear, there was also a love.

For the most part, Joffrey never had any real time for the rest of his family. Not unless it was to belittle them. Embarrass them. Or just be as downright atrocious as he possibly could be to them. Not even his mother or siblings could avoid his wicked tongue and abuse. Not his grandfather, whom he had described as a coward. But with his aunt, it was much different. She was the only one that the spoilt, petulant, cruel boy had any time for. The only one that he would never dare say a word against. And would not let others say a word against. In part, it was because he wished that he could be like her. Brave, strong, commanding. Respected by all that knew her. All those that she commanded. Even by the old lion himself. The other part though, was because despite being battle hardened. Despite the souvenirs of war that littered her skin, to Joffrey's eyes, his aunt was the most perfect woman in the world.

Like all the others in the family, his aunt could boast the same golden hair and green eyes. The same beautiful features of her older sister and brother. The same intellect as the imp. The sum of all this, being a woman that would not only be perfectly capable of ruling. But could also bring a man to his knees for the promise of a single kiss. And from the moment that he could remember, Joffrey had been besotted with the feared and respected lioness. He had loved his aunt. And from the moment he had considered himself a man, he had wanted his aunt.

"What have you been doing again?" His aunt asked, as she stormed into the throne room. No one, not the Hound, not the Kingsguards, or anyone else daring to move, as the obviously irate lioness stormed up to the steps before her nephew's throne.

"Ah, my dearest aunt. I............"

"Don't give me any of your shit, boy. I have just come from your mother. How dare you speak to her in such a fashion. How dare you treat your kin in such a way...................."

"If my mother cannot deal with the truth.............."

"Truth? TRUTH? I will give you the truth, you little fuck. And if you dare interrupt me again, I will also give you the point of my sword. You are not fit to be king. You are not fit to call yourself a man. You are nothing. I have killed better things than you. Stood on better things than you. You are not worthy to call yourself a Stag, never mind a Lion. You are an unfeeling, sadistic, cowardly creature, that I would not trust to look after my horse, never mind a kingdom. And that, nephew, is the truth." (Y/n) growled, as she glared up at the boy on the throne. Joffrey watching as those in the room began to mutter. As no one dared to contradict the lioness or come to his defence.

"How dare you..................."

"DARE! DARE!? You should watch whom you speak to, Joffrey. I am not your mother. And I am most certainly not scared of you." (Y/n) interrupted, as she walked up the steps to the throne, then turned to look at all those present. Joffrey shuddering, as he realised what he had done.

"OUT! ALL OF YOU. OUT NOW!" The lioness bellowed. The sycophants and toadies looking at one another momentarily before they scurried, like scalded rats, from the room.

"That includes you, Clegane."

"But, milady.............." Sandor began, as he took a step forward. Nodding respectfully, as he looked up at the lioness.

"Fear not, Sandor. I promise that I will not be harming my nephew. Well, not today at least." (Y/n) assured the big man. Sandor giving the feared woman a rare small smile, before turning and making his way out of the room. Joffrey turning his attention to the woman before him, as she door closed behind the big man.

"Aunt (Y/n). I can.......I can.............."

"You can nothing, Joffrey. Why do you act this way? Why do you think that you can treat the Stark girl as you do? A true king would not act in such a fashion. A true king knows when to be tough and when to be compassionate. He is humble. He has passion and inspires that in others. He has courage and is prepared to face the enemy with his men. Leading from the front. Yet you, you hide in the shadows, expecting others like Sandor to fight your battles for you. Creatures like Trant to do your dirty work. You spit venom and bile from your seat, as you look with disdain at all those around you. Like they are nothing more than insects. That is not how a king should be." (Y/n) hissed, with nothing but disdain, as she glared at the young man in front of her. A young man that dare to wear a crown.

"I..........I........." Joffrey began. Not sure what to say. He was angry. Angry beyond words. No one, but no one else would dare speak to him in such a fashion. He was king of the Iron Throne. Of the Seven Kingdoms. And if it had been anyone else, he would have had their head sitting on a spike right next to that of the traitor Eddard Stark. Yet this was his aunt, and he could not harm her. Not merely because he feared her. But more because he loved her.

"Did you learn nothing from me, Joffrey. All that time you spent sitting at my knee. Asking me how you should rule once you became king. How you could become the most respected and loved of monarchs. Promising that you would heed my words if you were ever to sit on the throne. Yet now that you are ruling, it is as if you have forgotten all my lessons. As if the sweet little boy that I knew, has disappeared to be replaced by this.......this monster I see before me. Perhaps it is the weight of the crown that has changed you. Perhaps if I remove it, I will see my Joffrey again." (Y/n) mussed, as she reached up and took the crown from her nephew's brow. Joffrey looking up at his aunt from a moment before he stood and wrapped his arms around her. The boy king burying his head into her chest so that he could listen to her heartbeat, just like he used to do when he was small.

"I'm.........I'm sorry." Joffrey began. The young man sure that if anyone else were present, that they would never believe that he had apologised.

"Teach me, again. Show me how to be a king. Stay at my side and advise me. Make me more like you." Joffrey continued softly. His eyes closing, as his aunt combed her fingers through his hair. As she kissed the top of his head.

"All you had to do was ask, Joffrey. Together we will turn you into a great king." (Y/n) replied, as her nephew's embrace tightened. Joffrey hoping that he would soon be able to persuade his aunt, that the best way to show him how to be a king, was to become his queen.