[ From the looks of it, this new face has been messing around with the Forge for upwards of twenty minutes. His face is twisted in a most unhappy expression that was probably brought on by waking up in this room and being greeted with such a poor explanation as to why he was here and then intensified by the fact he couldn't get this godforsaken
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[But the sympathy is short-lived when he remembers what Joffrey did while Bran was stuck in Winterfell. To Sansa. To Father. All the things he'd been told and couldn't do anything about...]
[And the fact is, more than anything, Bran never wants to see Joffrey's mother again.]
Stop shouting, she isn't here. Neither is your council.
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[ Needless to say, this hasn't improved his mood. ]
[ And a Stark? Well, this one's not so bad - he can't do anything, and last he knew, it wasn't this Stark that was playing the part of thorn in his side. But - you know, one day he might. ]
Yet there is an abundance of useless children about.
[ He means you, Bran. He means you. ]
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[I am a Stark of the North. I am not useless.]
I suppose. Only children cry for their mothers.
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[ - cry to them like a child wishing to be held and assisted to walk. ]
[ He had never paid much mind to Bran Stark before. He heard he'd fallen, yes, but respects had been paid when the boy had still be asleep, and Joffrey himself under some duress. Idle days, when slaps had corralled him. Besides, it had been Tommen who had fought with the younger Stark boy, hadn't it? ]
[ Joffrey had been occupied with (goading) Robb Stark. And now that the little broken boy held Winterfell while Robb and his wolf marched upon him. Yes, some brothers garnered more interest than others. ]
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[There's the barest twitch at the corner of his mouth, but he keeps his face frozen. Mild.]
Then where are the subjects you commanded?
[I don't see them running to your call. You have no king's power here.]
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[ Before he seems to come to the realization that he had almost started an argument with a boy - stooping just as low as a child would. A Stark boy and hardly worthy of his conversation. Joffrey relaxed and reclined slightly; he allowed his tone to drop into an unconcerned drawl, and picked at a hole in the bedclothes. ]
Absent it would seem. A state I do not find acceptable and for which they shall be punished for.
[ If they are here. ]
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[And not without your servants to do the punishing for you, apparently. Somehow Joffrey's flippant attitude is even worse than the aggressive one, and Bran frowns, trying not to let himself give in too much.]
You haven't got any subjects.
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[ Maybe he's a bit too optimistic in this situation, which can translate into stubborn, which is the root of determined in latin, synonymous with spoiled and spelled the same as blond-haired-brat. ]
[ Who knew. ]
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[GODS BE GOOD don't make him help you out here, Joffrey.]
This isn't King's Landing. This isn't even anywhere in Westeros. The people here are not yours to command.
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