Reborn As Joffrey Baratheon!

The next day,

Joffrey was now walking through the grim halls of the Red Keep, searching for his imp uncle. 

He had ended the training early with Jaime as it was time for him to start some of his plans—gaining the small folk's support. 

'Having Tyrion beside me would help, as he might get something I don't.'

Reaching his room, he opened the door without so much as a knock. 

The old thick door creaked open as Joffrey walked in, and immediately, a pungent smell of wine and cum filled his senses. 

His face scrunched up in disgust as he found his uncle buried by the tits of the whores he had brought last night. 

Wine stains were all over the walls and the floor while the vases held not flowers, but more wine. 

'Tsk! I should make him less reliant on whores and get him a woman!' Joffrey muttered inwardly and noted that in a few years he should find Tyrion a good woman. 

"But first..." he mumbled as he narrowed his eyes, his gaze stern, "I should get rid of them."

Walking toward the bed, he cleared his throat but stopped suddenly. 'Wait, what should I even say?' He thought. 

His eyes then glinted a moment later; he then turned toward the sleeping Imp and tapped his shoulder, "Uncle, uncle, get up!"

"Mhmm," Tyrion mumbled in his sleep while he frowned unconsciously. 

Joffrey tried to wake Tyrion politely for a few more minutes, but to no avail. 

The whores, though, woke up from their slumber. Marks of wine and cum stuck to their faces as they rubbed their groggy eyes. 

They were a little irritated to get woken up abruptly, but when they saw it was the crown prince himself, their eyes shot wide open. 

In a moment of panic, the women tried to greet him, but Joffrey put a finger to his lips, ordering them to be silent; he then ordered the women to leave, which the whores dared not object. 

They picked up their scattered clothes and got out of the room. 

Joffrey's eyes flashed sinisterly as a sly grin bloomed on his face. He tightly gripped Tyrion's shoulders and shook him vigorously while shouting, "Uncle! Uncle! Wake up! Grandfather is here! Tywin Lannister is here!"

Tyrion's drunk eyes shot open when he heard that his father was here. If there is one person that Tyrion feared, then it was his father.

"Wait! Wait! Nephew, Stop!" Tyrion yelled as he clutched Joffrey's hands with his, intending to stop all the shaking. 

Joffrey stopped the shaking and looked at his uncle with a serious gaze. 

"Is it true that Father came to visit? And where are my whores?" Tyrion asked as he massaged his forehead, as he was getting a little light-headed with all the shaking. 

Joffrey rolled his eyes at his second question, and with the most honest expression he could make, he answered, "No, I lied to wake you up."

SILENCE 

Silence dawned on them both as Tyrion stared at Joffrey with a question mark on his face while Joffrey looked at him with an innocent face, as if he were the most honest person alive. 

"I pray to the seven that you rot in hell," Tyrion cursed as his stare turned into a glare; he was quite annoyed by his nephew's antics, evident from the twitching of his eyes. 

Joffrey grinned at his uncle's annoyed glare; he didn't mind his words and knew he didn't mean it, "I need to discuss something important, Uncle."

Tyrion's mouth went agape while his eyes widened in shock. "You have woken me up to 'discuss' some important matters?"

Joffrey nodded his head while his grin receded and answered, "Yes, I want to discuss something very important."

Tyrion's eyes twitched furiously; he couldn't believe his nephew anymore. "Wait, you wet your bed?"

TSK

Jiffrey clicked his tongue in response to his uncle's remark, annoyed; a frown bloomed on his face, which only made Tyrion's eyes twinkle in satisfaction. 

"No, I have not." He replied, with a serious look on his face. He said, "I came to discuss the small folk!"

"Small folk?" Tyrion asked, tilting his head. 

"Yes, small folk."

"What of them?" Tyrion asked, still couldn't understand why his nephew wanted to discuss them. 

"I wish to garner their support, and I want you to help me with it," Joffrey answered. 

Tyrion by now had become serious as he sat on the bed properly. He looked at his nephew with a questioning gaze and asked, "Why do you wish to do so?"

"I wish to have more power!" Joffrey answered sincerely; he knew hiding things right now wouldn't do him any good. 

"Hah!" Tyrion snickered while he looked at his nephew blankly. 

Jiffrey frowned at his reaction but kept silent and waited for Tyrion to continue. 

"The whores of Flea Bottom can garnish you more power than the common folk!" Tyrion retorted, his eyes still holding a hint of disbelief. "I wonder how he got so dumb?"

"What do you mean, Uncle?" Joffrey asked with a deep frown on his face. 

"A quick lesson!" Tyrion exclaimed as he got out of his bed. He walked over to the table where a wine jar was placed. 

He poured himself a cup of wine and drank it in one go before turning toward his nephew, "A monarch needs to garner the support of his common folk, not you. You are not a king yet, Joffrey."

"But I will be one day," Joffrey replied as he tilted his head. 

Drinking another cup of wine, Tyrion replied, "Like you have said: someday. You will become a king after your father, Robert Baratheon, either relinquishes the crown or dies, both of which are far in the future."

Joffrey looked down as he thought about his uncle's words; he knew his uncle was wrong about Robert's death as he was going to die in two years; he didn't want that pig living after those two years as that would mean Myrcella would have to go away from him. 

'Myrcella is currently thirteen, and in two years, no matter what excuse Mother comes up with, Myrcella will be married off to a lord or some heir to a house. If I am not king by then, I will not have enough power to cancel the wedding!'

Tyrion observed Joffrey and noticed the various expressions that adorned his face, 'I am still confused as to why he is seeking power when he is only ten.' He mumbled with confusion, 'but then again, I think this is a good thing that Joffrey is trying to learn them.'

 

Tyrion waited for a few moments and continued, "The small folk have various needs: food, cloth, shelter, etc., which the houses rarely care about. If you want their loyalty, then you need to provide for them, which will require coins. Coin which the crown doesn't possess, nor will it ever give even if it does."

Joffrey's face contorted as Tyrion's words reeled in his mind. Tyrion, taking the silence as a cue, continued:

"Nephew, I don't know why you wish to amass power, but where you are right now and where the crown is currently. If you want power, then I suggest you gain it politically."

"Politically?"

"Yes," Tyrion said as he nodded his head, "Making alliances with houses would amass you some power, and having an alliance with the house that has a seat on the Small Council would give you more."

"But, won't that be costly?"

"It will, but it will be worth it. Remember, nephew. Only power breeds power; nothing else."

Joffrey took his uncle's advice seriously; he knew what he said was the truth, but alliances with houses were often martial. 'I don't want to use Myrcella as a bargaining chip! She is mine!'

He turned toward his uncle and asked, "I don't want martial alliances, Uncle. At least I don't want to use Myrcella as a tool!"

Tyrion's eyes widened slightly in admiration, a small smile bloomed on his face as he was happy that his nephew was different. 

'It seems that the gods have put a good brain in my nephew.' He knew how the men of the realm used women as bargaining chips, and it came as a refreshing surprise that his nephew didn't think that way. 

"There are different types of alliances, Joffrey. But it is useless to talk about them; remember this one thing: every house, just like you, craves power. How you give it to them and on what terms you give it to them determines how much power you have over them!"