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GOT: The Golden Lion 28 - The Dragon Roars
🕑 Added 2024-10-21 15:17:01 +0000 UTC"Taking the easy way out, brother?"
Jaime looked behind and found his brother walking in. "D-Don't… Stay there, Tyrion. I’ve made this choice."
"Die like a coward? Hide from the wreckage of your own making? Abandon your sons, your daughter, to be devoured by the wolves of courtly treachery?" Tyrion asked sternly, continuing to walk closer. "You and Father, you both tore the only woman who ever loved me from my grasp. Tysha—gone, thanks to your cruelty. So, tell me, should I end my miserable life? Or should I end yours and Father’s instead? And yet, here I stand—Hand of the King."
Jaime couldn't stop his eyes from tearing up anymore. "W-What? What would you have me do? I failed as a son, I failed as a father, I failed as a brother, and I failed as a lover."
"No, Tywin failed us as a father! Cersei failed us as a sister! But Joffrey? That boy is teetering on the edge of being hailed as the greatest king Westeros has ever seen. Don’t fail him as you failed me, Jaime. Stand by him, be his shield, his protector. He needs more than crowns and swords—he needs someone he can trust, and he only has us, brother."
Jaime's shoulders plummeted, he hesitated for a moment, and finally, he silently got down from the barrier of the balcony.
Thud!
He fell down right away, back against the barrier, his knees folded, hands clutching his head. "H-He'll hate me for killing Cersei."
"He loathed her," Tyrion revealed, a wordplay pre-decided by Joffrey. "Cersei wielded him like a pawn, and he, ever the fool, finally grasped the truth of it, Jaime. He saw how his crown wasn’t his but his mother's obsession. He saw it all too clearly on the eve of Blackwater Bay—when Cersei, in her desperation, sought to hide him. From that night forth, he chose to truly wear the mantle of a king for himself. But Cersei only ever tried to rule at his behest… He loved her for giving him life, but loathed her for the monster she had become."
Jaime broke down miserably, feeling helpless.
He never really tried to be there for his children. Always satisfied as long as he got access to Cersei's cunt, merrily ignoring those who called him 'uncle', while being anything but his own blood.
"I-I'm a failure."
"I'd say, you've been a failure until now." Tyrion sat down beside Jaime and patted his shoulder. "Will you continue to remain one?"
"No! I'll be..."
“His shield?”
“I will,” Jaime muttered.
"And I'll be his loyal Gold Goblin, Warden of the Wallet."
#####
Joffrey sat alone with his grandfather at a table. Tea, wine, drinks, and snacks covered the top. The smooth breeze waved the curtains at the large balcony opening beside them. They were high in one of the towers of the palace in Lys.
Over the past few days, he had kept an eye on his grandfather. To his surprise, the old lion did nothing but bed a few whores who had features similar to his dead wife—golden hair, pale unblemished face, green eyes, and a lovely slender body.
Of course, Joffrey bedded the same whores afterward to see what was so good about his dead grandmother. In the end, the verdict was that he still preferred his lovely Val if he wanted a blonde one, the obedient Sansa if he needed a toy, and the tight Arya if he needed a petite one. Furthermore, there were so many more flavors available—Taena's exotic looks, Mhaegan's eager moans, Catelyn's mature body, and many more.
Just pick any beauty from across the world and she'll spread her legs for you with delight, grandfather. Why seek your lost love in whores?
Joffrey did judge his grandfather. He had reasons to believe that Tywin was also aware of Cersei and Jaime fucking. But, although it was distasteful, he wouldn't be alive if not for that incestuous union.
"I trust you’re pleased, Grandfather. Your fleet was useful, and I’ll give you that, but the cities fell because of my plans. Without my strategy, we’d be knee-deep in corpses instead of celebrating victory." Joffrey sternly reminded the old man. He didn't want to share too much of his exploits with Tywin.
"You need not remind me, Your Grace. I didn’t seek an audience to discuss such matters." Tywin’s sharp gaze softened briefly, an uncommon sight for the rigid and ever-controlled Lord of Casterly Rock. He leaned back in his chair, a gesture that betrayed something softer beneath the iron discipline. "May I speak with you as your grandfather?"
What does he want now? I hope it's not about Cersei's death.
"Of course."
"The child in Winterfell... it carries your blood, does it not?"
Joffrey didn't flinch. He had learned to control himself before Tywin by now. But in heart, he was screaming. How did Tywin find out? Who else knew?
"What if it is?"
The old lion leaned forward. "With whom?"
Joffrey smirked. "Surely, you already know the answer, Grandfather. It’s hardly difficult to trace my steps and discover who accompanied me in the North. But tell me, how did you come by this knowledge?"
"You were ruthless, yes, but not enough. The midwife had already informed her kin that she was summoned to the castle for the birth. At that time, the only woman within its walls was Lady Stark." Tywin let the words hang for a moment before continuing, his tone as cold as a winter wind. "No matter. Her family has been… taken care of."
That was a mistake indeed. Joffrey felt angered by his oversight and overconfidence.
"What is your plan?"
"To control the North, what else? My blood runs through the Starks now, and it will for generations to come. When the babe grows, I’ll foster him at the Red Keep, and when he's a man, he shall marry the lady of my choice. You saw my table, I have the realm under my grasp." Joffrey revealed his intent clearly.
"Do you plan to marry Sansa?" Tywin inquired.
"Eventually, I will. But she won't be my first wife. Daenerys Targaryen will be," Joffrey gave a definite answer. "The Targaryen dragon has three heads. And as Aegon had two wives, I shall add Sansa soon after."
"Why her? She brings risk with herself. And word grows that she has three dragons."
"She does, and I'm aware. I've already begun, Grandfather. There's no need for you to worry. Dragons may be mighty, but the higher they climb, the harder they fall," Joffrey said and changed the topic right then. “What concerns me most are the Ironborn. Euron Greyjoy has seized control, and the things I hear about him… well, none of them are good. He’s an ambitious fool, and ambitious fools are the worst kind.”
Knock! Knock!
"Your Grace, a raven arrived from Winterfell." Ser Arthur entered and handed the small parchment.
Joffrey took the rolled paper and quickly gave it a quick read. He expected it to be something from Catelyn.
He was wrong.
"Give it a read, Grandfather."
Tywin did just that. His brows creased together in the end as he looked back at Joffrey. "You believe all this?"
"What's there not to believe? We have precedence and proof," Joffrey replied with a faint sneer. He hated how the smartest of Westeros often acted foolish when it came to magic. "The fact that we have a seven hundred foot high wall made of ice that goes beyond mortal understanding, the fact that we have three dragons across the sea—My journey to the North had a purpose, Grandfather."
Tywin openly frowned then. "They're bringing it to King's Landing?"
"No, they must bring it to King’s Landing. And I want you there with every major lord and lady of Westeros. There is no Iron Throne, no Seven Kingdoms, if we don’t win this. The woman with the dragons is a boon to me—at least for now."
Tywin nodded and stood up, leaving the parchment on the table. "Since when did you know about this?"
"Since the beginning."
Tywin sharply turned his head and looked at his grandson's face. Two and two came together and he connected the dots. "Everything you've done…"
"To secure my throne," Joffrey responded, "Lys and Tyrosh are mere backup plans in case we… lose."
Tywin fell into silence. That meant Joffrey had been playing the game for years now. How far did he plan? What was to come next? Where was everything headed?
It made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end.
"I shall begin making the needed arrangements then." Tywin bowed his head and left the place.
He bowed his head. Since when?
Joffrey was surprised by the amount of respect he got from the old man.
####
Meereen, Essos,
"Khaleesi, please reconsider this. You have never flown so far away alone."
"Ser Jorah, your concern should be with holding this city once I’ve departed. We have lost Yunkai and Astapor; we cannot lose Meereen as well," Daenerys replied as she tightly pulled her riding gloves. Her attire was intricate, inspired by the dragon riders of the old. "My journey to Lys is to know if Westeros can be won without spilling blood on its shores. Isn't that what we all want?"
"I understand that Khaleesi, but it's Joffrey Baratheon. No one can be sure what he's plotting."
"Before you, Ser Barristan said the same. Yet, here I am." Daenerys ignored all the warnings from her advisors. "You keep forgetting that it’s I who flies fire in the sky, not him."
Daenerys left the room and headed towards her dragons. She had even prepared a saddle for the flying creature according to the few books about Targaryen Dragonriders in her possession. There was nothing that could stop her from meeting Joffrey anymore.
"Take me with you, Your Grace," Missandei pleaded. "You must not go alone."
"No, you must stay here and help Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah." Daenerys softly declined her close friend. "I trust you."
Soon, she arrived at the large arena where her dragons were resting. She had chosen Drogon for her journey as he had been the most loyal, obedient, and also the largest of the lot. And having already flown on him before, she had some level of experience already.
"I’ll return as quickly as I can," she declared and climbed the resting dragon's back, taking a seat on the large saddle. "I’ve faced far greater challenges than a pretender King—This too, shall pass."
As if Daenerys shared her thoughts with Drogon, the dragon got up on its own and prepared to fly off. It stretched its wings wide first, letting out a low shriek, and then.
Woosh!
With a quick leap, the dragon flew off into the air. Straight towards the West.
####
Lys,
"I'm not here to steal your wealth or ruin your trades. I'm here to rule and see the land prosper." Joffrey proclaimed to the long table, surrounded by the few leftover nobles of Lys. One thing to note about them was that they were the poorest and the lowest of the nobles, and the most notable thing was that they were all women.
A lot of them were notable beauties, and Joffrey held no aversion to bedding them later on.
But, for now, he had a plan.
He had already killed the most powerful nobles. It left a lot of vacuum that he couldn't fill easily. He needed assistance, and what better way than to make the women in that room feel indebted to him for that opportunity? All of them were going to be far more wealthier because of him.
"Since this land will be claimed as part of the Crown’s territory, Lys shall enjoy preferential trade throughout Westeros," Joffrey sweetened the deal. But this also made Lys more connected to the Crown. The nobles would serve the King directly under the Master of Coin.
"I know many of you still harbor grudges, perhaps even despise me and scheme for revenge. But remember this: you may retake this city, but the next time I arrive on your shores, I’ll bring the mightiest siege weapons and reduce your precious city to ashes. I will not hesitate to rebuild from the ground up, for I have the strength of the Seven Kingdoms at my back. And you, Lys? What do you possess but a handful of sellswords?"
Joffrey let his words settle into their hearts and minds for a while.
"You may choose—grow rich at my side or rot away like a corpse before the flames. Win my favor, and wealth, access, and trade will be yours. Earn my ire, and you shall feel my wrath." He rose, a knowing smile on his lips. "I have never lost a battle in my life. The choice is yours, ladies: a battlefield or a pleasant stroll through the gardens."
"Your Grace!" One of the women voiced. She wasn’t young, but her beauty needed no words. Her silver hair, pale blue eyes, and skin white as snow could make any man desire to keep her. But her gaze held the confidence of a veteran trader. "Will the pillow houses be closed?"
"Closed? Hah, no, my Lady." Joffrey gave her the respect. After all, he was a man too and wanted her. "The Crown shall be the guarantor and the protector of your trade. Lys produces the most beautiful bedwarmers—men or women. We shall build pillow houses across Westeros and Essos under my authority. But we can't use the term slaves anymore, for that stands against the Faith of the Seven. I suggest you all come up with a good plan and submit it to me."
The subtle message was clear to their ears. The Crown wanted to get involved in the trade without making it obvious.
"We shall do that, Your Grace."
Ah, I love their accented common tongue. Can't wait to hear them moan.
"Very well, I have other matters to deal with. I'll await your proposal."
With that, Joffrey left the meeting hall with his regal aura. Having worked so hard to hone his skills and carve a warrior's body had done great for him. Taller, sturdier, bulkier, muscular, and handsome.
It was great to be the King. But to be a handsome King—that was a deadly combination. Bedding women had never been easier no matter the age or status.
I love my life.
He never failed to remind himself to be grateful for his second chance.
However, when he arrived at his chambers that doubled as his bedchamber and solar at the same time, he couldn't help but remind himself why he loved being the King once more.
Right inside, there stood the tall and charming Chataya with all her ebony glory. Her finely crafted body with fantastic curves made him stir just as the first time. He really wanted to visit the Summer Islands just because of her.
"Chataya." He didn't call her Lady, however. Lyseni noblewomen were no whores, but Chataya was a famed whore. It didn't suit a King to be so gentle with a woman of that stature. Still, he took her name as softly as he could.
The woman seductively smiled and approached the King, her green figure-hugging gown waving with her footsteps. She aided him by removing his cloak off his shoulder. "I arrived as early as I could, Your Grace."
"You're on time," Joffrey replied and stepped away from her, slowly disrobing himself. He removed his surcoat, unbuttoned his tunic, and then finally pushed away his breeches off the legs. With a much better muscle-carved body, he never felt ashamed of being nude.
"Your successful conquest has already spread throughout Westeros." She complimented his achievement.
Joffrey smiled and crawled onto his bed, finally settling down against the headboard, flat on his back with his half-erect cock in need of attention. "Let's discuss further matters on the bed, Chataya."
"With pleasure, Your Grace." Chataya quickly removed her gown, sliding it down her wide shoulders. She had to slide it down her wide hips before finally letting it pool around her feet. She stepped out and took off the smallclothes, getting as bare as the King.
"As fantastic as I remembered." Joffrey admired her large breasts. She was older than Catelyn, so a little bit of sag was expected. But, she didn't disappoint him with the size and the softness. Besides, her experience and prowess with her lips, hands, and cunt made everything else pointless.
"The gods have blessed me." Chataya rubbed herself on Joffrey's legs, caressing her voluptuous dark breasts on his skin. She slid up as she did that, closer to his manhood. "To have this body, and to entertain your desire."
I really should visit the Summer Islands someday.
"Ummm…" Chataya quickly swallowed his sizable, bulging shaft. Her dark smooth lips gobbled his girth with ease, and her face lowered further and further until the back of her throat caressed his sensitive tip, and her lips tickled the base.
Her hands remained busy as she slipped her arms underneath Joffrey's thighs, making him rest both his legs atop her shoulders, around her neck. It was a strange position for the King, but he smirked at the realization.
You know what you're doing, my exotic whore. Joffrey locked her neck with his legs, shoving her down on his cock, squeezing her into himself with the chokehold of his legs. It was a delight to watch her continue to suckle him as her eyes turned red.
"Umph!" She finally gasped out for a breath, the sticky, bubbly mucus made a mess from the corners of her mouth.
Joffrey relaxed his hold just then for her to breathe. Quickly after, she went for another round, and he clenched her tight. He thoroughly enjoyed this wild, savage fucking. After having bedded Arya and Val on so many nights, he truly needed this. Val was more into challenging him to fuck her harder, and Arya was more into getting fucked while grunting her lungs out.
But Chataya was a whore with years of experience. She didn't shy away from degrading herself for his pleasure. No other ordinary woman would do that unless it was a kink or a whore like Cersei.
Her head bobbed nonstop, and the gurgling, slobbering noises spilled through the room. Her dark, tied hair came loose slowly, a mess forming that was only getting hotter with time.
Ugh, it's hard. Joffrey felt his balls twitching for a quick release.
Her attention to his length inside her throat was immaculate. She squeezed him in all the right places and made her tongue play around well. He gritted his teeth to control himself and clenched her harder with his legs.
He kept doing it a few times, choking her, shoving in deep, and stopping her with a quick leg squeeze to not spill so quickly.
"Mmm~" Chataya moaned on his royal cock.
Joffrey relaxed his legs at that, spreading them wide around her frame again. "G-Get on top, Chataya. We have matters to discuss."
There were a dozen more positions to do her in. Chataya was built with curves and ripe flesh, but she was still highly flexible. But he wanted to begin with the most common riding.
Why waste her fantastic dangling breasts, after all?
"Of course, Your Grace." Chataya sat up on her knees and quickly straddled his lap before lowering her needy cunt on his drenched cockhead. She first rubbed his cock across the slit, her dark pussy lips were fleshy and hairless, just the way he liked it. "Aaaah… Y-Yo-oh! Your Grace is… big."
Joffrey had heard that from enough women by now, and he accepted it. He was indeed sizable, and at least better than most men.
But he didn't give a damn about her cunt. It was her duty to pleasure him with her warm walls. He mainly focused on her magnificent, voluptuous breasts. The tight brown nipples at their peaks were like small corks, and the areolas surrounding them were wide.
He gripped the dangling peaks with both his palms and squeezed them together. Their cloudlike texture molded together, throbbing in his palms. He pinched the tips, kneading them, and finally, pulled her torso down by them.
Plop!
Joffrey heard the first clap of her bottom against his thighs. She had begun to ride him deep, fucking herself from the tip to his balls, squeezing him dry in that warm, tight whore-ish embrace. She purposefully clenched hard on him, the massage building up his climax so easily.
"Ugh… Good." Joffrey finally suckled her breasts, biting his teeth softly on her nipples—both at the same time as they were large enough to be squeezed together. It was pure passion like no other, a whore he could be himself with.
"Ah, yesss~" Chataya moaned, keeping her breasts on his face while her hips danced. "I-ugh… I hope I can… satisfy your desire… Your Grace-eh! Ummm, do as you please… I s-surrender this God-given body to you-oooh!"
Her words were music to his ears. Her self-degrading voice aroused his heat and made him thrust up as well, aiding the clapping, musky sex. Unlike other women, he need not give a damn about Chataya's own climax since by now he was sure it was hard to make this woman have one.
He met each thrust with her falling cunt, so warm and slippery that it might as well be silk. He stopped suckling her breasts at one point, it being pointless without any nectar. He looked at her face and played with her lips, making her suckle his fingers.
He didn't kiss, nor did she try to. The only whores he kissed were the ones he exclusively owned like Mhaegan.
"Down… Down…" Joffrey tried to move. "Lie down."
He sensed Chataya's exhaustion. She had probably just arrived at Lys a few hours ago after the sea journey, and he had already bedded her. He was a lustful savage, but not heartless.
"Ummm…" Chataya laid down beside him at his command and spread her legs wide.
Joffrey looked down at the mess on her entrance. It appeared she had already climaxed once. It was a matter of pride to him. So, he wasted no time and speared in, watching as his cock sank slowly between her tight walls. He felt every tiny reaction from her warmth, his nerves making him quite happy at the tickling rub. Her insides stretched apart and welcomed him, balls deep.
"How did the expansion go?" Joffrey asked her as he settled into position. He wanted to stretch her, so he grabbed her ankles and pushed her legs up, further against her breasts. But he wanted more, relishing her flexibility to the fullest.
Finally, he made Chataya's breasts squeeze between her knees and had her hold her legs against her shoulders. She folded so well, her pussy raised high with her hips, stretched wide open with his cock still jammed in to the last inch.
"Beautiful." Joffrey admired the view. In one frame he could see her cunt, her squeezed-together breasts, and her sweating face. It was pure delight. "So, the expansion?"
"Ah… I-it went well…" Chataya felt his thrusts this time. So stretched, even she had limits. "Umm—E-eighty brothels operate throughout Westeros now… under me-eh."
Joffrey loved hearing her accented voice and moans. He weighed himself forward and plowed down into her tight cunt, sliding his hard, throbbing length with an agonizing pace. It was fast, but it was a long and deep thrust each time, pressing her frame into the soft bedding.
Her breasts jiggled before his face, and whenever he felt like it, he gave quick suckles and bites. Knowing that he wouldn't need to pay anything this time, the pleasure peaked.
"Then, ugh." Joffrey felt on edge, on the verge of spilling. He had made up his mind to do it inside. Chataya was safe. "Start finding good from Lys and get them to work… Increase the number and… ensure loyalty."
The bed violently creaked at that point. He lowered himself completely on her, resting his face between her heavenly soft breasts. He slammed his cock hard, their flesh struck like thunder with each push. The pace hastened to a greedy speed, his thrusts slowly went from long and hard to short and uneven.
"Ungh… There…" Joffrey rammed himself in at last, all the way to the limit she allowed. He twitched atop her and bucked hard. The convulsion made his hips jolt on their own, and his balls tickled him to madness with every gush of his seed. He coated her ebony core white, her hot, lovely walls claimed by the King that night.
He kept at it for a good while, slowly gyrating his cock and thrusting back and forth until he felt his cock growing limp. He wanted to feel that slimy warmth inside. Feel the mix of his and her nectar that made a mess out of the bedsheet under them.
It was pure bliss.
"Umm…" Joffrey licked and played with her tits while his cock calmed down. Her tall frame and fleshy body made him easily feel warmth all over. Unlike Sansa and Arya, he couldn't eclipse her frame even if he wanted to. "Mm… I needed this."
At last, he slipped out and rested straight beside her.
Chataya knew how to do a good job and quickly sat between his legs again to lick him clean and swallow whatever 'gift' was left on his cock.
Joffrey folded his arms under his head while enjoying her tongue and lips. "I want you to increase the number of brothels as much as you can while keeping them profitable. There are plenty of beauties in Lys and Tyrosh to accommodate all of Westeros. But my goal goes beyond mere money, Chataya… Come here."
Chataya quickly finished up, rinsed her mouth with a quick glass of water, and rested down hugging the King's frame. "You want information."
Joffrey gave her his arm to rest her head on. He guessed she'd be spending the night with him anyway. "More than that, I want you to be my next Master of Whispers. Though I can't trust you entirely, our interests align, granting us ample reason to collaborate. As for Varys… He's playing a game of his own."
"He loathes magic more than the Citadel itself, Your Grace. A Red Priestess resides within the Red Keep, and he’s not one to tolerate such a thing. He ought to betray you eventually." Chataya openly responded to him, all the while her playful hand caressed a finger over his belly, near the groin. "I’ll serve you as best as I can."
Only time will tell. Joffrey thought. At that point, he didn't trust anyone. Not even Sansa.
"What about you? You believe in magic?" He asked and guided her hand directly to his flaccid cock. He had no plans to sleep early that night.
Chataya smirked and stroked him softly, playing with his balls at the same time. "Magic is God's gift, Your Grace. My life, our fateful meeting, your desire to seek pleasure with my body—all is God's gift."
"And death?"
"Everything that has a beginning has an end too, Your Grace," Chataya replied and slowly rubbed her leg on his thighs as well. Her glistening skin felt like delicate silk to the touch. "Just as a man needs rest after every culmination of bliss, everything in life must rest at its culmination before a new beginning?"
"Rebirth?" He asked with interest. "Your people believe in that?"
"My people believe in many things, Your Grace. But the one thing that stands forever is that all is God's gift," Chataya added.
"Hmm…" Joffrey finally started to feel aroused. "Why don't you go and stand against that wall? I'd like to gift you more of myself tonight."
"Hah…" Chataya chuckled. "I shall lovingly accept it, Your Grace."
She moved her long, meaty legs off the bed and walked over to the wall. She rested her hands on it and pushed her hips back, parting them and giving him a look at her petals and the other hole.
Joffrey felt hard once again and walked behind her. He touched her back, going down, and felt her soft, large asscheeks. He spread them apart and teased her back hole with his cockhead.
"What of this? Is my gift accepted here too?"
"If such is my King's desire, that is my duty. A mating of any kind is worship to the gods."
"Oh?" Joffrey liked the answer and spat down on his palm. He rubbed his spit all over his cock and pressed harder on her star-shaped back hole. "Are you sure?"
"Very rarely I give myself in such a way, but you're not the first, Your Grace," Chataya replied and used only her head to lean against the wall, while her palms reached behind to spread her own ass. "Please… Let us share this gift of pleasure and desire."
Seven hells, this woman has one fine mouth.
With that, Joffrey made up his mind and pushed in hard. Slowly, gently, guiding in that insane tightness. It was all he needed that night.
A good, tight fuck.
It’s going to be a long, long night.
####
What a night it was, and what a morning came after. He woke up to Chataya sucking him off until completion. She swallowed him whole and soon left his bedchamber to start her work.
Joffrey took his bath and prepared himself for the day's routine. A few hours of training followed by reading and writing mind-numbing ravens all day. If lucky, he'd have time to play around with Val or Arya, and if too much time, he'd explore the city.
The King had to inspect each pillow house personally, after all. The most exciting part was that the pillow houses had themes, and each one had a different theme. One had the theme of Red Priestesses, where all women had red hair and wore red, like the followers of R'hllor. Though he doubted that they might just be actual Red Priestesses.
There was also one based around the Septas of the Faith of the Seven. Joffrey really liked that one as it tickled his 'taboo' senses.
Slowly, he was coming to understand why Lys was so famous for sex tourism. He wanted to keep it that way, if not make it even better and more famous by expanding the name, fame, and scale.
Knock! Knock!
The door opened, and Arya walked in. She was clad in a common, loose tunic, tight breeches, and a pair of boots with her needle sword hanging by the waist. She looked the same as before, but her face didn't sneer as much anymore.
Physical intimacy between them had become far more common now than ever. At times, it was Arya who approached him to 'do' it. He reckoned she liked the sensations and the pleasure. Who wouldn't?
"How did it go?"
"Two of them beaten today." Arya boasted and proudly walked into the chamber. She didn't stop at the table and walked around to Joffrey's side. Without a warning, she sat down sideways on his lap, a grin all over her face.
"You!" Joffrey frowned, feeling her entire body was drenched. Sweaty since she had just returned from her training. Her tunic, her breeches, and her hair—it was all oozing warm fumes. But he had to use one arm to support her back or she'd have fallen.
"Mm… Joffrey." Arya grounded her hips on his lap to stir him up and hugged him closer to his chest. She was playing with him. "Won't you do it with me?"
She thinks I'll be disgusted?
Slurp!
Joffrey suddenly licked the side of Arya's neck, right below her cheek. She tasted salty and he didn't mind. "Hmm, Arya, I don't think I can ever say no when you rub your bum on me like that."
"What?" Arya tried to get up.
But Joffrey hugged her in place and continued to kiss her neck. "You thought I'd be disgusted? Girl, this is just another form of sexual pleasure—exciting, I'd say."
"Ugh, that's disgusting," Arya said what she expected him to say. "Let me take a bath first."
"No, I'm not one of those to let the food go cold before eating." Joffrey made her turn her face towards him. "I like it hot and sweet… salty is fine too."
He kissed her soft, thin lips with heated desire. His hands played around her body as the one on the back caressed her, and the one on the front cupped her breast.
"Ungh…" Arya panted into his mouth as she felt his tongue sweep inside her. She felt ashamed, not even having bathed yet. But, she felt so hot and needy.
Joffrey liked her heated breaths. He didn't mind the sweat since taking a bath with her was an option for later. For now, he just swept into her slippery mouth and coiled with her tongue, giving her a taste of another sparring.
"I'm hard," Joffrey warned her. "Table?"
"Don't act like we haven't done it, Joffrey." Arya barked and quickly sat down on the table, legs towards him, spread.
Knock! Knock!
"What?!" Arya jolted and tried to get up.
But Joffrey pulled her back into his lap instead, this time straddling with her knees to his sides, his both hands tightly clenching her firm ass. She tried to push him, but he kept her in place.
"Don't act like you don't moan your lungs out, Arya. My entire army knows by now," Joffrey replied. "Enter."
Clack!
"Oh…" It was Val who entered. She chuckled at the sight. "Your Grace, should I c—"
"No, what's the matter?"
"A messenger arrived from Meereen," Val said and approached the table. She winked at Joffrey while making a squeezing gesture with her hand.
Joffrey grinned at Val's face. Too bad he wasn't able to get the two women to join him in the bed yet. But he was content with what he had. He kept playfully squeezing Arya's bottom while she hugged the life out of his neck.
"Meereen? Mind reading it to me?" He asked, his hands too occupied.
"Of course." Val unfolded the paper and read it in a serious tone. "Joffrey Baratheon, I offer my congratulations on your recent triumphs in Lys and Tyrosh. Yet, take heed: I, Daenerys Targaryen, The First of Her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, shall soon come to your shores with my dragon. When you hear its roar, I expect you to stand alone at the Orange Shore, ready to kneel before your true Queen. It is time you demonstrate the truth of your words. Should you hesitate or conspire against me, I shall rain fire upon your city and reduce it to nothing but ashes."
"What?!" Arya jumped off Joffrey's lap without shame.
Joffrey also rose to his full height and snatched the missive from Val. He read it under his breath again and again. "When did this arrive?"
"This morning," Val answered.
"GRAAAAAAAAW!"
The floor trembled all of a sudden. An ear-shattering, monstrous roar echoed outside and inside the palace.
"She's here!" Arya exclaimed.
Joffrey stopped his hand from shivering, a sign of weakness. But inside he was shaking.
No, no, no! This is too early. You weren't supposed to come here… Why aren't you lost in the Dothraki Sea?
For Joffrey, who already knew most of the future, this was a major setback. Daenerys Targaryen had gone different from the predestined route.
What now? I must not kneel.
He walked over to the window.
"GRAAAAAW!"
He felt his heart sink at that roar.
I won't kneel! The throne is mine!
_________________
A/N: I think this story will end by Chapter 35.
Comments
Jas
Definitely my favourite story of yours, sad that the end is on the horizon.
Mintcakes
I'll miss this Joffrey, tho.
Jacob Weiss
NOOO, we need more dragons plus more women. The Spice must flow
Goxo
Cool, because I was really hoping to see more different works for you to explore.
Chocolat
that's a shitty move, ending on a cliffhanger like this!!
