Capítulo 128: Joffrey 2
293AC
Joffrey sat in his tent. It was a bit away from his father's where even now, well after midnight, the sound of feasting and merriment was echoing out.
It was appropriate he knew after all they had smashed an army with twice their numbers utterly.
Indeed it was a glorious victory, though his Uncle Renly had displaced him from his seat at his Father's side.
For once in his life, he found he wasn't offended by the man coming before him though, nor for Lord Eddard, who also sat at his father's side. No, initially he might have been, but not anymore. Now he just felt sullen. His father, at least, was happy, laughing raucously and speaking with pride about the battle that had been fought and won, and of their bravery in holding out.
He had even come and placed his hand on Joffrey's own shoulder and brought him into a hug after the battle, ruffling his hair and telling him that he had been brave.
While he quickly moved on to other things, congratulations to other people, it still stuck with him. He couldn't remember the last time that his father had embraced him so, had given him respect at all.
It made him feel elated, at the time anyhow, preening for hours.
Then, as he watched his father congratulating the sullen Lord Renly for the dozenth time, it had hit him that in truth, he had not been brave at all.
What had he done of worth in the morning?
He hadn't slain a single man.
He hadn't even stood his ground against the enemy, only clung to Lord Eddard like a baby, screaming his head off while the Northern Lord shielded him from harm.
What was he in comparison to Lord Renly? When that towering mass of hatred had barreled down atop him, shrieking its battle cry and with men gored on its tusks bigger than his body, he has Pissed his pants and cried.
What was he worth at all in the face of such a monster? Something that could crush him underfoot without even noticing.
He would have just stood there and been trampled had the Manderly knight not saved him.
Joffrey made a mental note to learn the Knight's name, while it was on his mind.
Still, when the realization had hit him, he had proven a coward once again, finding an excuse to return to his tent and curl himself into a ball on his cot.
As he clutched his knees to his chest, he just couldn't help but feel hollow, numb at the whole thing.
Sure his father thought him brave, but what did that mean if he was empty.
What use was a prince, much less a king, who pissed his pants the moment his life was at stake?
Certainly, kings never did that in the stories.
He sighed as tightened his grip.
Did he even want his father to love him if he didn't earn it? He certainly wouldn't show love to a coward if he were king, why should his father show him any?
And yet he wanted his father to love him nonetheless.
So which was wrong?
He didn't know.
As he sat in quiet contemplation, he heard footsteps coming towards his tent.
"Prince Joffrey" Lord Eddard's voice rang out. "May I come in?"
Joffrey sat up in his cot, wondering what the Northern Lord was asking after him for, but after a moment he decided that the man might at least be able to answer his questions. The Northern Lord was both wise and brave, at least as far as he could tell.
"Come in."
The man pushed the flap of the tent aside, smiling, though he was obviously quite tired, and perhaps a little fraught.
"Ah, good you're alone, I was half worried that… ah, nevermind." The Northern Lord turned towards him, his eyes widening. "Are you alright, Prince Joffrey?
"What? of course I am." Joffrey started for a moment, feeling his blood rise at the suggestion that anything was wrong with him. Then the rational part of his brain came slamming back down on his pride like father's fist, and he shook his head.
"No. No, I don't think I am."
The man nodded grimly, but then he did everything grimly and sat down beside him on his cot.
He might be angry at the breach of decorum if he wasn't looking to the man for advice.
"Care to speak of what troubles you?"
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