a part of @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood
thread with @hal-the-harper
Joffrey was so angry he could hardly breathe. His hands were as shaky as leaves and his heart seemed to pound harder than any drum he’d ever heard. Harrold had taken things too far this time, and Joffrey was left only to rage.
The two had already fought about this earlier in the day, but Joffrey was not ready to let it go yet. Perhaps it was wrong of him, and perhaps he needed to stop being like this, but one thing had not stopped bothering him since this whole situation took place. Why did Harrold even do this? Because he was mad Joffrey dared to spend time with Lord Davos? Because he was mad Lord Davos helped Joffrey cut vegetables? They had fought, but he'd asked none of these questions. He felt as if he knew the answers, deep down, yet...
Harry had always been fiercely protective over Joffrey, preferring to be where he was at all times. That had never bothered Joffrey. And he wouldn’t have been so mad if Harrold had not messed up so badly to where his own brother was now involved. Poor Alesander, Joffrey thought, he won’t make it.
Alesander did not have the fiery passion Harrold did, he was softer and Joffrey did not think he could pull off whatever scheme he'd thought of to successfully fix this mess. It was his Harrolds fault, and Joffrey would let this be known once his sworn sword arrived.
He’d called him to his chambers almost a half hour ago. Late, of course. When is he ever on time? It only served to make his anger worse. But quickly, he was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the door open.
Harrold was not one to stall, and wasted no time examining Joffrey’s face and reacting to it. “Everything will be fine, Joff. Stop it with the pouting and the anger. Lord Allyrion is the one being ridiculous here, over a small joke I played... I knew he wasn’t a proper friend for you.”
Harrold stood only a foot away from where Joffrey sat on his bed. He slowly made his way closer to Joffrey, his arms folded and his face so unserious, it irritated Joffrey.
Through clenched teeth, Joffrey spoke back. “You put your brother through this mess, and for what? A stupid prank. Lord Davos did nothing to you, nothing! Yet you stand there and pretend you were justified in this and everything is fine. I can’t believe you, Ser Harrold.” Joffrey knew it was childish to do so, but he couldn’t help but fold his arms back at Harrold and then turn his face away from him.
He could not see Harrolds face now, but the rage was evident in his voice. “Stop calling me Ser Harrold. We’re so close and you can’t even call me Harry.”
“That’s not the point!” Joffrey spit back. Tears welled in his eyes now, so offended by his dearest friend’s apathy towards the situation. He continued to look away. “How can you act this way…”
Joffrey paused, voice thickening with the threat of crying. He knew his next words would hit a sensitive mark, but he intended them to do so. Perhaps if he could do that, Harrold would care more about the situation, and Joffrey could get answers.
“Why do you act as though I only owe my time to you? Lord Allyrion was a friend, I did not mean to exclude you, but Harrold, your possessiveness of me has gone too far. I cannot turn my blind eye to this anymore. I want an answer.”
Joffrey continued to sit on his bed, hugging himself for comfort as he waited for the response. But none came. Joffrey waited, and waited, and waited, but no rough and angry voice that belonged to his Harrold came.
He almost got up from the bed, expecting to see that Harry had left, until he felt the bed dip under the pressure of another body. Harrold was sitting next to him now, blank faced. The Prince could do no more than scan his friend’s face, the dirty blonde curls that almost hid his eyes were more messy than usual. The dark circles under his eyes becoming more apparent to Joffrey the more he stared. Harrold’s soft lips tightened, and then began to move with his soft voice.
“I came to Kings Landing for the sole purpose to be with you. I fought with my own twin brother for you. I announced before the whole court that we’d never be separated. I’ve spent every day since then by your side, basking in your light and hoping for a chance that you’d look at me or touch me the way I did you. How can you still not know? No, that’s wrong, how can you still pretend to not know?” Once finished, Harrold stared into Joffrey’s eyes.
Joffrey was stunned to silence, it was apparently his turn to now say nothing for another long pause. He watched Harrold’s unmoving face, a statue that watched him and waited for his response.
The Prince’s mind was blank, the words he had just heard made his whole body feel numb and he could say no more than something he knew would set Harrold off.
“I do not know what you speak of.” The words were false and bitter in his mouth, and yet Joffrey still said them.
In an instant, Harrold sprung up from the bed, dangerously close to Joffrey and standing tall. “You liar! You pretend ignorance, and you drive me mad with it. I know for certain you remember the night at Jacaerys and Baela’s wedding. We were drunk, you and I, and we-“
“Enough!” Joffrey put his hands over his ears, refusing for the next words to be spoken aloud, lest it make them true. He began to truly cry now. His body hyperventilated with the sobs and he turned away from Harrold completely.
It felt almost another eternity before Joffrey felt long fingers on his back, rubbing comforting circles. Joffrey did not move, his back to Harrold and his crying continuing.
“I am sorry for all of the grief I’ve caused you. I am truly sorry.” Harrold said, breaking the painful silence with a less angry tone of voice.
“But no longer can I pretend, sweet Prince.” Harrold took a deep breath in through his nose. “I want you. I want you more than I have ever wanted anything before. I want you even though you think it’s wrong for us to want each other because of what society says. I’ll want you until I die, I’m certain. Our kiss has not left my mind since it happened, and I do not regret it. If you cannot face that truth now, I understand, but I won’t suffer your pretending any longer.”
Joffrey heard, and he listened, but he could not respond. The pain in his chest did not allow him to, and his face remained in his pillows. He could not respond, and he knew exactly why.
Because it was all true. Yet he could never accept this truth. He was to marry one day, to have children, to do his duty to the realm and his family. There was no room for this.
Joffrey waited yet another eternity before he felt the soft touch on his back evaporate. He heard footsteps and his door opening, but he did nothing to respond. He only lay there and cry. And cry. And cry.
Harry was helping Joffrey back to his rooms as best as he could, the two holding each other up for support as they struggled towards the door. Joffrey had never been so drunk in his life, and Harry seemed to be just as intoxicated as him.
The wine at Jace and Baela’s wedding feast had been too tempting to pass up, and it was one glass after another until Joffrey realized what was happening. I’m drunk, he thought, but I don’t care. Strange…
Harry’s arms were strong and comforting on his shoulders, and he was not bothered by the touch in the slightest. He did not even care that they had been stumbling along to his bedroom, holding each other the whole time. Was it the alcohol? Or was the support of his dear Harry too comforting to let go of?
They finally reached Joffrey’s room, and they both went inside, Joffrey making his way towards his bed immediately. “Ser, please stay a while. I am not ready to be alone yet… stay?” Joffrey pleaded, looking up at Harry. He felt… desperate? His heart ached and his body felt light with the alcohol, and he couldn’t stand the thought of not having Harry here for some reason.
Harry’s face looked shocked, but he stayed, sitting next to Joffrey on the bed. Joffrey scooted closer to his friend, barely noticing when he scooted a little too close and their noses almost collided. “Oops! I’m… not balanced…” Joffrey laughed, putting his hand over his mouth. It was all too funny, he thought.
But Harry was not laughing, and his face reddened. Upon further examination, Joffrey noticed he looked… sad. What was there to be sorrowful about this night? The prince pondered to himself, suddenly feeling his heart ache once again. To see Harry sad was too heartbreaking to handle.
“Ser… what’s wrong?” But Harry did not answer, and only let out a sigh. Joffrey decided to try again, but felt compelled to touch Harry suddenly. He knew his best friend showed affection through his warm embraces and soft touches, and Joffrey couldn’t help but want to repay it now. Even though he never did this, suddenly it didn’t feel scary. He felt lighter than ever.
Joffrey reached out with both hands and cradled Harry’s face, making him look at him. “Harry, what troubles you?” The red that filled Harry’s cheeks turned Joffrey’s stomach. He felt sick, but it wasn’t a bad sick… he couldn’t place the feeling.
“Jacaerys and Baela were so lovely.” The words sounded pained as Harry struggled to speak. What was so bad about that? Joffrey was confused.
“Yes… yes.” Joffrey felt tired, he couldn’t say much more than agree, but he continued to hold Harry’s face, now moving his thumbs to stroke his dear friends cheeks.
Harry looked even more miserable now. “They kissed and I could tell they were in love. Their kiss… will we ever kiss someone in such a way?” Joffrey’s eyes widened at these words.
“Of course! Harry!” Joffrey whined. “You’re who everyone wants to kiss!” He laughed, not letting go of Harry’s face still. Harry went into a silence once more, the two of them sitting there extremely close…
Of course everyone wanted to kiss Harry. He was handsome, loyal, dedicated, and so kind… so kind… Joffrey swallowed hard. He looked down at Harry’s lips, imagining another girl kissing him. No! He thought, that’s not right.
Something seemed to take over Joffrey, because after that thought he could only think of those lips. The thought of another kissing them was not right, only Joffrey was allowed to… so he did it.
Leaning forward, Joffrey did the unthinkable and kissed Harry. He felt no nervousness, as he was too far gone from the alcohol, but he was fully aware of what was happening all the same. It only felt right that he kissed his dearest man right now...
Their lips softly touched, and Joffrey could not think at all. Why haven’t we done this before? He wondered to himself. He went to deepen the kiss, pushing harder against Harry’s face, still holding it firmly.
Harry seemed to melt under this pressure as he gave in and kissed back. Gently, Harry removed Joffrey’s hands from his face and began to push him on his back onto the pillows.
Joffrey broke the kiss, looking up at his beautiful Harry. He felt as if he had been waiting an eternity to kiss him. *Why haven’t we before?He wondered again. I love him dearly. It’s only right that I kiss him!
But, the prince was tired. The alcohol and events of the day finally caught up to him, and he closed his eyes. “Let’s go to sleep…” He hummed, smiling, still feeling Harry on top of him. But that feeling slowly went, as he felt Harry slide off of him. Joffrey didn’t open his eyes, but he felt his shoes slip off of his own feet. How peculiar… He thought, but the confusion ended quickly, as he could barely stay away.
Hearing soft footsteps and an eventual close of his door, he fell asleep, dreaming of dark blonde curls and lips that would touch his.
The smell of sweet cakes and burning candles filled Joffrey’s room while he fussed with his hair before the mirror. Everything had to be perfect when Harry arrived, and Joffrey’s hair was not cooperating, and that was not acceptable.
He ran his fingers through his hair for what seemed to be the hundredth time, expecting it to somehow fall into place. He sighed in frustration, then looked back at the table set up for him and Harry.
It looked… romantic. His stomach turned with nerves at that thought. The thought someone might walk in and know what was happening… but he shook that thought out of his mind. His step-father had given him so many words of encouragement, and Joffrey couldn’t let them be for nothing. He also had a lock on his door, so that helped.
Looking back in the mirror, Joffrey once again ran his hands through the somewhat tangled mess and hoped for the best. His attention went to the door as he heard a knock, instantly forgetting his hair and his anxiety going up.
He was here. And it was early. Harrold Penrose had never once been early to anything in his life without Joffreys help, and so it set his anxiety through the roof. Joffrey didn’t feel prepared enough, he thought he would have more time because of Harry’s unfashionable lateness, but alas, he was here early and Joffrey could only scramble to open to the door.
Open the door… he thought with a frown. Harry never knocked, he had always entered Joffrey’s room without knocking. This always made Joffrey scold his sworn sword, telling him it was rude, but today it had served to make him sad. He knew things were different.
They had not spoken for over a week, and it had been one of the hardest weeks Joffrey had ever suffered. Never in their lives together had they ever gone this long without speaking, and everyone at court had noticed. But Joffrey would fix this, his step-father had encouraged him to do this, making Joffrey feel a little less alone. Joffrey knew what it was that he wanted most in the world; to be with Harry. He could be brave to have him.
After opening the door, he and Harry stood there, examining one another for a long moment. His messy curls were the same as always, his face unmoving as a statue as usual, but the dark circles under his eyes were even more pronounced. The guilt overtook Joffrey as he knew it was because of his actions that Harry was not sleeping.
“Come in, Ser- or, I mean, Harry.” Joffrey clumsily corrected himself, using Harry’s preferred name now, as he knew he should have long ago. Sure it was proper to call Harry by his title and given name, but it was more proper that he called his own friend by what he wished to be called.
Harry squinted his eyes, walking in and immediately staring at the food and candles on the table. His eyes now widened with shock, and his face was… blushing? Joffrey then began to blush with him. He had never seen Harry so flustered… it sent a rush of adrenaline through him.
“What is all of this?” Harry said, waving his hand to gesture at the table Joffrey set up. “And do not dance around the question as I know you always do. Tell it to me plain and straight. What is the meaning of this?”
Harry had his arms crossed, looking accusingly at Joffrey, yet still blushing. The two were too far apart… so Joffrey stepped forward to close some of the distance. Or perhaps, a little part of him just wanted to delay having to speak. He was stalling, just as he knew Harry hated him to do.
So he began, with shaky words and a beating heart that made it hard for him to focus on the man in front of him. But nonetheless, he knew he had to force the words out at some point, so he began.
“Harry… I am sorry. I am so sorry for the way I have treated you. I…” He felt the tears threatening to fall, so he took in a deep breath. It was not the time to cry, Harry needed to hear this and Joffrey needed to be strong.
Looking at Harry’s face gave him the strength to continue. The handsome, ethereal beauty of Harry in this candle-lit light was something Joffrey knew he would never look away from again. “This past week that we did not speak, I have never been so miserable. Without you, I cannot live. I cannot bear to be without your presence. You knew that all along, and I am sorry I could not tell you earlier. But it is true. To be with you… is all I want. Truly. I… I want you.”
Joffrey fell to his knees. He felt so weak, so miserable and pathetic as he sank and held Harry’s hand. Just his one hand, but a grip tighter than he’d ever given to him. Harry quickly bent over slightly.
“Joffrey!” Harry called out, the worry in his voice making Joffrey’s heart ache.
He couldn’t believe he had just spoken the words he had, and it felt all wrong, yet it felt completely right at the same time. He looked up at Harry, who returned his grip tightly. Harry looked the most shocked Joffrey had ever seen him before.
“My heart calls only to you, Harry.” He said through tears that he could not control. Tears yet again. It seemed all the Prince had done this week was cry, and somehow he still had tears left in him to cry into the knees of his beloved Harry.
He felt Harry’s other hand run his fingers through his scalp. Harry did not say anything, and the comfort of his touch made Joffrey continue on.
“My love for you felt an unforgivable sin. Yet, I’ve discovered that the worst sin of all would be not loving you. That there is no wrongness in our love, though it is… unique.” He remembered all his step-father had told him. He remembered the fact that Targaryens were know for their… queer love, that what was wrong to others wasn’t necessarily wrong. Joffrey still had a hard time swallowing it, but he knew what was right. He knew it was all true and that Harry was who he wanted to love.
It was silent for a moment. Then Harry let out an exasperated laugh. “Unique? That’s one word for it.”
The prince scoffed. “Do not jest!” Joffrey could not believe Harry would joke at a time like this… Well, he could believe it, as Harry was always annoyingly joking.
“Sorry, sorry.” Harry sighed deeply. “I do not know what to say. I’ve never heard you so…” Harry’s hand moved down from Joffrey’s hair to his cheek now, resting there. His green eyes widened and he swallowed hard, seemingly holding in his own tears. “You truly mean it?”
Joffrey angered at that. “If I did not mean it, I would not have said it. I could barely even say it, yet you doubt me?”
“No, no, I do not doubt you… it is just hard to believe this is real. Please, stand up.” Harry then pulled Joffrey up, holding both of his hands and bringing him close.
His sworn swords eyes left Joffrey only for a second to look at the table with sweet cakes. “This is for us? No, that is a stupid question, of course it is. You’re a sweet Prince, I’ve always said such.” Their hands were still interlocked, sending Joffreys heart through the roof and his hands shaking violently. But he continued to have a strong grip, wanting to give Harry his affection.
Joffrey looked away, too embarrassed to look at Harry now as he spoke. “Yes, your favorite cakes are there… I lit those candles myself… uhm…”
“Enough shyness. I need to know one more thing, sweet prince.” His voice now was so soft and caring, Joffrey wanted to sink back down to his knees.
“Does this mean we are lovers now?”
The question set Joffrey into another panic. He wanted to scream yes, and of course, but he couldn’t. Yes, they would be lovers, but not in the way others were.
“I… I cannot promise you that you will be happy with me. We won’t be able to marry, ever, as we are… who we are. We won’t be able to join our hands together in front of the court, lest we want others throwing their food at us-“
Harry interrupted him quickly. “All things I know. I do not care. Do you?”
Joffrey could have burst into tears again right there. He was certain now, that there was nothing to worry about. A weight lifted off of his chest, and he was ready to make the next step.
“…No, I do not care. I want you. I love you.”
He held up Joffrey's chin, pushing his face up slightly. "Good." Letting go, he hugged Joffrey now. A most unusual gesture between the two, but it was everything. Joffrey melted into the hug, and heard Harry say in his neck "I love you."
