A Good King - A Joffrey Baratheon Insert

A Warg Falls

My heart raced as I processed what my 'father' was telling me; anxiety rushed through me. The time had come...

Ever since Myrcella had been born nothing too exciting had happened apart from a few things. The most notable (obviously) being the birth of my little brother Tommen. I had tried my hardest to be a good older brother to the pair. I tried to be there when they needed me and I think I succeeded. Sometimes it was hard -with me being so busy preparing for future events, lessons with Pycelle and of course; practising my combat skills- but I was definitely better than cannon Joffrey. For example: I haven't killed any pregnant cats...

Secondly, I am now at a level in sword-fighting that I can hold my own with Ser Barristan Selmy. I even beat him once. It was mainly luck so therefore I am still practising at least three times a week, though at a much less rigorous schedule. I have however beaten 'uncle' Jaime a few times, which I'm pretty happy with.

I also visited Casterly Rock twice. The first time was with the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, to negotiate a loan agreement (again.) The second was with mother. I feel that after the second visit he had warmed to me, as much as Tywin Lannister can warm to anyone.

But now it is time for the real game to begin. We are going North; Jon Arryn is Dead!

Time Skip

I hate wheelhouses. The trip north usually takes around 3-4 moons and yet it's been six and we have only just caught sight of Winterfell.

Along the way we stayed at many castles, one of which was The Twins. It wasn't a pleasant experience having to sit at the same table as Walder Frey. The slimy old man was constantly making lewd jokes and remarks, even 'father' seemed unimpressed; whether that was because of the constant dirty jokes, the numerous hints at a marriage between one of his sons and Myrcella or just because of his famed lateness during the Rebellion remains unknown. Maybe it was all three...

I shook myself out of my stupor as I caught sight of the Winterfell courtyard. I was in front of my father as I had sped up slightly as we covered the last few miles, therefore I brought my horse to a stop and waited for the procession to catch up. When it did I rejoined next to my father and we entered the courtyard. I got off my my regal looking black stallion as my father got off his horse. I could imagine the horse taking a huge sigh of relief as the grossly obese man, who called himself King, got off him.

The entire Stark family bowed to my 'father' as he approached them. As he motioned for them to rise I got off my horse with practiced ease. I looked over all of the Starks. Sometimes it still struck me about how crazy it is that I now possess the body of Joffrey Baratheon, that I am standing here looking at fictional characters as if they were real. But there was no time to worry: I have work to do.

As mother tried and failed to stop 'father' from going to mourn Lyanna Stark, I went to talk to the still assembled Stark family. I approached the group, but before I could introduce myself, Arya blurted:

"Where's the Imp." Everyone except Sansa (who looked outraged) was trying not burst out laughing at her forwardness.

"My uncle is currently trying to find an establishment that can cater to his tastes, I would imagine." I replied calmly. Personally I was trying not to laugh. 'Uncle' Tyrion was a load of fun, his wit and humour was even more apparent in real life and it was impossible not to laugh when he took Cersei down a notch every now and then. We were quite close, not as much as me and Cersei, but still I was hoping I could prevent him from running off to Daenerys, which to be honest should be easy. Afterall in this I won't be being poisoned, I hoped.

"Your Grace, please forgive my sister." Sansa said.

"It is no worry my lady, perhaps I could retrieve my uncle and introduce you, Lady Arya?" I replied, mirth in my voice. At this point, Robb was shaking in an attempt not to laugh, this was probably not helped by the shade of red both Arya and Sansa had gone: Arya from embarrassment and Sansa from anger; directed to her younger sibling.

I then turned to Robb and asked him "Where is your other brother?" Silence followed. Sansa looked even angrier and Catelyn Stark -who was pretending not to listen- suddenly tensed.

He replied "Jon is over there." Looking in the direction he pointed I saw him. Jon Snow, Aegon the Sixth of his Name. True heir to the Iron Throne.

Jon Snow was a huge problem. Like. Ginormous. This man was the person who should be inheriting the Iron Throne. Even with his dynasty overthrown I was a bastard and not even the kings bastard! And yet, I knew that I couldn't give up my throne. I had to save the people. Jon couldn't do that. Well he probably could but that would mean following cannon and there's absolutely no way that's happening he will never meet Daenareys. No one can find out about me and Tommen's and Myrcella's heritage. Why do you think I burned the book that Jon Arryn would've found?

No, no one must find out and that gives me yet another problem. There is a certain warg in the Stark family. He must be dealt with.

Time Skip

After sitting through a feast where I didn't stop staring at 'father' with utter disdain on my face -I mean seriously behind closed doors is one thing but doing everything but cheating on your wife in front of your closet allies!- I followed my mother and ''uncle'' to the broken tower. It was time to take care of the warg wolf...

I saw them enter and waited about five minutes so that I could convincingly catch them in the act. Then I entered the tower and climbed the stairs, desperately trying to maintain my balance on the cracked, uneven and dangerous stairs (seriously how old is this thing.) Only about two levels up I could hear the moaning and groaning from both 'uncle' and mother. Honestly are they even trying to be quiet!

As I walked in I exclaimed "Seven Fucking Hells." Immediately they both suddenly turned to me. They both turned to face me. Stark naked. Tits. Cock. And balls. I tried desperately not to look. Fucking puberty.

"What the seven hells are you two doing!" I semi-screeched.

"Joffrey it's not-"

"Father I don't care what it is, I couldn't give a flying fuck but what I do care about is that you're doing it louder that Robert Baratheon and one of his whores! Anyone could hear or even see!

"Wait what did you call me?"

"Jaime, I'm not stupid, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out! I don't give a shit what you do but could you please do it." At this point I stare out of the window and see Bran staring wide eyed through the window. "Quietly." I murmur. Both Jaime and Cersei look at where I'm looking. Cersei gasps.

I stalk over to the window and look at Bran. "You will never ever talk about what you saw, do you hear me?"

Shakily he nods his head. "Yes My Prince, I swear on the Gods old and new."

"Good, now turn around." He does so. "Now jump."

"Wha-" he starts to question as he turns around. And as he does I push him lightly off the ledge.

And Brandon Stark falls again...