JOFFREY II
The late King's body lay in the Sept, flat and lifeless with stones over his eyes.
Joffrey was never close with his father, and it was no secret. Joff was not the man that William had always been, even as a boy. His older brother was always braver, stronger, funnier, more handsome. Joff wanted to hate him…but sometimes it seemed that Will was all that he had.
The Great Sept of Baelor was filled with people, but empty of any sound. No one said a word as the great Robert Baratheon's second son looked over his father's body wrapped in expensive clothes and his head wrapped in his antlered crown, pointing toward the great statue of the Stranger. Robert held a sword, pointing downwards, though Joffrey thought a war-hammer would've been more fitting - but custom was custom.
It had been three days since King Robert had moved into the next life. Visitors were pouring in from all over the realm to farewell their saviour King, but Joffrey was only here to say goodbye to his father; the man he barely knew.
His cheeks were sunken slightly; not as full as before, same as his stomach. It had deflated a bit. He was plump, to put it nicely. And now, he would waste away until he became nothing but dust and bones. The blonde prince tilted his head.
There he lay, Joff thought to himself, my royal father.
"He was a good king," William said from next to him. Joff had barely noticed his brother had approached.
"And now you are King," the prince breathed.
"Now I am King," Will repeated in an exhale of exhaustion.
"I am sorry for your loss, Your Grace," Joff said bitterly. He turned to Will who kept his eyes on the corpse.
"And I am sorry for yours, brother," the new King responded, as genuine as ever.
Joff shouldn't have said that and he knew it; it was cruel. Will was suffering - a lot more than most.
"I barely knew him," Joff admitted.
"That's not true," Will asserted, "he loved you, Joff. He loved all of us. He told me before he died,"
"He told you," the prince said without thought.
"I didn't ask for this, Joff,"
The prince breathed in and out, guilt prevailing.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace," he breathed.
"Please…don't call me that," Will said, seemingly frustrated.
"You're the King,"
"I'm your brother. Nothing has changed,"
"Everything has changed," Joff disagreed.
The King stood in thought for a moment.
"Not us,"
"Not us," their mother repeated, standing between them both. Her arms slipped through theirs, linking the three of them together.
"Mother," Joffrey addressed.
"He lived a wonderful life, your father. Never wasted a moment," she spoke, "my only wish is that he had more of them,"
"Mine too," Will agreed aloud, Joff in his head.
"How are you keeping, my sons?"
"Alright," Joffrey responded.
"Mm, alright," Will said.
She unlinked her arms from theirs, placing her hands on the altar that her husband lay. Her delicate fingers ran along his forearm and up to his hand, clutching at it gently as would a child to a toy. She missed him more than anyone and only had their children to remember him by. Joffrey felt for her, but he didn't know how to show it. William held her as the prince stood back where he felt his place was.
His mother's sobs caused the Sept to empty, they being the only three remaining aside from the High Septon himself. She left soon to comfort Tommen and Myrcella.
"She is strong, our mother," Joffrey began.
"Strongest woman alive," Will said, his eyes following her as she trailed out of the great room.
The Gods stared over them, watching their every move - Joffrey felt great discomfort when he remembered that.
"Your coronation?" he inquired.
"Next week," Will responded.
"How is your princess?"
"I saw her today, not long ago. She is…well...he was her father too,"
"I imagine that you will wed much sooner than you thought,"
"Aye, it would seem that way," he responded, slightly frustrated.
"You don't seem thrilled," Joffrey quipped, rudely to say the least. He strode away from the corpse, cocking his head from side to side with each step.
"Our father lays dead on an altar and you think I should be more excited?" William responded in frustration.
"She's a beautiful girl,"
"You won't speak of her," he snapped. Joffrey turned back to his brother, admittedly stunned.
Will looked away. He was every part the King, now - except for the crown which would nestle upon his head soon.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout. Forgive me," he exhaled, leaning over their father's body. Joffrey nodded.
The new King spoke again, "he told me…he told me there's a war coming, Joff. We can't fight a war among ourselves…you're my brother. I need you with me…to help me. I can't do it alone."
"You won't," Joff assured and nodded again, "Your Grace."
Joffrey left the Sept after that, climbing into one of the litters and letting the guards carry him back to the Keep where he returned to his chambers. The prince's were large, as they should be. As at now, he was the heir to the Throne should anything happen to William.
There's a war coming, he remembered Will's words, what does he mean by that?
He sat in the room for hours, it seemed, mulling over the events of the last few days. His father dead and his brother King. It was always going to happen, in truth, that's the way things worked. The King died and his son became the next king - though Will would be the first Baratheon prince-turned-king.
What would they call him? Joff wondered, William the Young? William the Strong? William the Handsome?
He laughed at the last one, it seemed likely enough, even if Joff hated to admit it. The sky had turned dark and the windows of the city bright by the time the knock was sounded on his door.
"Not now," he snapped.
"Forgive me, Prince Joffrey, I have been sent to deliver a message," a guard spoke through the chamber door.
"What is it?" he questioned.
"It's your uncle, my prince, he's returned," the man informed.
"Returned?" Joff asked himself. His Uncle Jaime had been nowhere, "what else?"
"Her Grace the Queen Regent requests your presence in her solar," the guard continued.
The prince rose from his seat and made his way to his mother's solar, curious.
"Have you heard the news?" Joffrey's little brother called through the halls.
"What news?" Joffrey said, impatient.
"It's Uncle Tyrion! He's home from the Wall!" Tommen beamed as he met Joffrey in the hallways.
Oh, Joff realised, that uncle.