004 The Imp (2)
"Ah! There's my favorite nephew!" Tyrion exclaimed as he raised his goblet in the air, greeting his five-year-old nephew and drinking all the wine in the goblet.
Joffrey watched with amusement as he mumbled inwardly, 'I never thought I would meet him as soon as I thought of him.'
With a hint of a smile on his face, Joffrey walked toward the dining table; his mother and his real father, Jaime, were present too and were watching him.
"I am your only nephew, Uncle," Joffrey said as he walked toward the Imp.
Tyrion's eyes twinkled with playfulness; he put the goblet on the table and replied, "And that's why you're my favorite!"
CHUCKLE
Joffrey chuckled at Tyrion's words; reaching him, he looked down at his face as his uncle stuffed meat into his mouth.
"It seems to me that the larders of Casterly Rock have run empty," Joffrey muttered with a grin on his face, "you haven't grown much, Uncle."
Even when standing, Tyrion would be dwarfed by Joffrey, as he was taller than Tyrion by half a head.
"Ahh!" Tyrion gasped as he clutched his heart, acting as if he were hurt by his nephew's comments.
He jumped down from his seat as he wiped the grease from his mouth with his sleeves.
"It seems that the prince has got his mother's sharp tongue." He said as he bowed a little.
CHUCKLE
Joffrey chuckled once again, liking his uncle more by the second.
He turned toward his mother, his green eyes softening as he looked at the most beautiful woman in King's Landing. "What can I say? I learned from the best."
Tyrion raised his eyebrow as he listened to his words; he turned toward his sister, who had a wide smile plastered on her face; he could see the pride and love coming from her eyes.
'Is this really my sister?' he thought; he was wondering about his sister's change in his absence.
Joffrey ignored his tiny uncle and walked toward his mother, who was sitting on the opposite side of the table, with Jaime sitting beside her.
He ignored his 'uncle' Jamie and kissed his mother on the cheek and greeted her, "Morning, mother."
Cersei's smile widened at her son's gesture, but her eyes widened in surprise when Joffrey, instead of sitting on the chair, sat on her lap, his arms coiling around her neck while his head rested on her ample chest.
Jamie narrowed his eyes while observing his nephew. He knew that Joffrey didn't like him as he didn't even greet the Kingslayer, but what puzzled the Lannister was what he had done to irk his son.
Tyrion was now shocked to see this; he turned toward his nephew, "What did you do to my dear sister?"
Jamie, listening to his imp brother, leaned in, wanting to know why Cersei was rejecting his advances.
Joffrey grinned at his uncle's question, looking at his mother, his eyes shining with possession; he answered, "Isn't it obvious? Me happened!"
Cersei's body shivered at his possessive gaze, her eyes dilated as she returned his gaze, her cheeks reddening as she leaned in, kissing her son's cheek once again, "That's right, my children happened."
Tyrion's little body trembled in confusion when he looked at his vile sister acting all lovey-dovey with her son.
His gaze turned toward Jamie, who was frowning deeply while squinting at the mother-son pair.
'Is this why she's refusing to see me?' Jamie wondered in confusion, his eyes wavering as he saw his sister's beautiful smile, stirring his heart. 'I have to talk to her!'
Joffrey noticed his uncle's gaze, but didn't think much of it. 'Heh! No matter what you do, she will never answer you, Father.'
Looking at his mother, her green eyes, her soft breasts against his cheek, 'She's mine!'
He turned toward his uncle Tyrion; a curious expression adorned his face as he asked, "So, why are you here, Uncle?"
Tyrion snapped out of his reverie when he heard his question, tilting his head. "No reason," he replied, and with a playful smile on his face, he asked, "Why? Can't I visit my favorite nephew and my sweet niece? I even rushed to the Red Keep without having had a wink of sleep!"
Joffrey scoffed at the Imp, not believing his exaggerated claims. "We both know that's not the case, Uncle. So pray tell, what does Grandfather want?"
The entire room descended into silence after Joffrey said his words. Everyone present knew that there was only one man Tyrion feared and wanted to be recognized by: Tywin Lannister, Joffrey's grandfather.
Tyrion pursed his lips as he looked down; the image of his father flashed in his mind. His gaze wavered as he thought about the message he was sent to deliver.
He looked up to his sister, who was looking at him with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to answer her son's question.
"I–"
Tyrion opened his mouth and was about to answer his nephew, but Joffrey cut him off and said, "No need to say, Uncle. I do not wish to know what my grandfather has schemed this time."
Getting down from his mother's lap, he walked over to his uncle and continued, "You can say it to mother. I don't want to know."
And for the first time in his life, Joffrey turned toward Jaime; his piercing gaze met his father's confused one.
"Uncle Jamie, I want you to train me in the way of the sword."