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GOT: The Golden Lion 26: Flowers Burned & She-Wolf Tamed
🕑 Added 2024-09-29 18:24:07 +0000 UTC"D-Deal… I accept the deal."
Prepared, Joffrey placed one arm behind his back, and with the other hand, he held his sheathed sword. He was still naked above his waist, so he was slightly careful this time. But at the same time, Arya only had a simple, sleeveless nightgown on her.
Nothing to protect your ass today, girl.
"Ready when you are." Joffrey confidently said.
Fire in her eyes, Arya maintained her raised needle sword, recalling all the training she had done. Although she could still feel the mess that Joffrey had left between her thighs, she tried to ignore that viscous fluid.
"Haaa!" Arya made the first move.
Measured and precise. She didn't aimlessly go for him and instead looked for Joffrey's weak points. Joffrey was underestimating her, and that was her advantage, or so she thought.
Joffrey had mastered his footwork. Jaime Lannister was many things, but he wasn't a bad swordsman. Learned directly from the man, Joffrey had plenty more things to show to Arya. For now, he just made her slowly realize that it wasn't only her who had improved.
"Ugh!" Arya grunted when she failed to land any blow. Her sword ended up being too short, brushing past Joffrey each time. Her movement was like a dance, beautiful in Joffrey's eyes, but deadly in Arya's.
She's gotten better. Far more confident. Joffrey appreciated her.
Woosh!
Arya jumped forward to close in the gap since Joffrey led her around in circles. The area was cramped inside that large tent, yet she felt restless to reach him.
Clank!
For the first time, Joffrey moved his scabbard and blocked Arya's blade. He was far too strong, stopping her from moving her sword in any other way but back. "You've improved."
Arya bared her teeth and lunged at him again. Every time she failed to hit Joffrey she became more impatient and desperate. She growled like a wolf, tried to defeat him at all costs, and even became reckless. Her opponent had no blade, after all.
Pa!
"Did you forget the last time?" Joffrey slammed the flat side of his scabbard on her hips. It wasn't gentle either. "You're a grown woman, Arya Stark. Don't you want to be a knight? Is this how you'll become a knight?"
"Shut up!" Arya tried to ignore the pain. All she needed was one single thrust into his naked chest. "I'll kill you!"
"I know what a killer looks like. It's not you, Arya." Joffrey toyed with her, using his scabbard to deflect her and push her left and right. The smacks from his scabbard weren't soft either, leaving her red wherever it hit. "Just surrender to me as the realm has."
"Never!"
Clash!
Joffrey purposefully closed in the gap this time and locked her sword arm with his scabbard and body. "Are you sure? You know you can't win."
"It's not… over! Aaaah!"
Pa!
Joffrey smacked her on the face this time, but not hard enough to make her bleed. He didn't want to ruin that pretty face.
He let her dance around until her panting breath became audible. Until her sweat-drenched her hair into wet strands. Until her nightgown clung to her skin in that dampness, revealing every curve of her body.
Unlike the last time, she couldn't even get close enough to Joffrey. From start to finish, he had control of the duel.
It was worth training with Jaime.
"Let's end this." He muttered and started using his scabbard as a real sword.
Bam!
He smacked her on her sword arm, making it sore.
"You're not bad, Arya. But you have no idea how to use those skills."
Bam!
He hit her on that same arm again.
"You’re shorter."
Bam!
"You aren't muscular like me."
Bam!
"Then why insist on a duel? It's a losing strategy." Joffrey tried to teach her something. "That sword isn’t meant for dueling."
Clank!
Finally, Joffrey struck her sword hard enough that Arya lost grip. The Needle fell to the ground.
Joffrey wasted no time and closed in on Arya, pushing his scabbard's flat side against her neck. He shoved her back against a wooden cupboard that held his clothes and pressed himself against her front.
He looked down at her face. His scabbard remained roughly against her neck as he saw rage in her eyes. He said nothing and kept staring into her gray eyes. As far as he could remember, Arya had been the ferocious one. He could understand where her rage was coming from. She saw her father beheaded. She had to run away and struggle for food. All her brothers had died too.
Too bad, a lion can't be bothered with your sob story, she-wolf. I'm out on a hunt, and it is inevitable.
"Soon," Joffrey whispered. "You’ll soon have your revenge. So will I."
Arya looked at him directly. She didn't want to, but her eyes were overcome with tears. It wasn't helplessness, or the loss just now. It was the frustration of the circumstances. Ever since she had left Winterfell, nothing good had happened.
"All this will be over soon. I’ll be free, and you will be a proud Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. The North will have a new Lord."
"What? New Lord?! Joffrey, don't y—"
"It's Robb Stark's bastard son," Joffrey revealed before she could rage. "I received your mother's raven before we left the Red Keep. She asked me to legitimize the babe. I’ll do so once I return."
Shocked and confused, Arya fell into deep thoughts. It wasn't unimaginable that Robb might have bastards. She knew about his visits to the brothel every once in a while. But she also felt empty, aimless, with nothing to strive for in her life.
"Just get it over with," she muttered weakly. "You won… I-I know what you want. Just be done with it."
What's the rush? Joffrey shook his head.
"Perhaps tomorrow. For now, you should rest." Joffrey freed her and stepped back. He could feel her gaze on him, so he walked to the side and picked up his discarded tunic. Then, he tore a strip from it and returned to Arya. Without asking her, he tied the strip of cloth on the right arm where he had hit her. "Use hot water on it in the morning, or it might swell."
Aye, look at me. Be confused by my kindness. Joffrey was a master of winning hearts by now. With Sansa, it was all about being a gentleman, a prince in shining armor. With Arya, it was half roughness and half kindness.
Arya remained standing in her place, however. She watched Joffrey return to the bed as if nothing had happened.
Soon, the candles gave out and only the dim light from the outside lanterns entered the tent.
For almost an hour she remained standing there.
"Go to sleep, girl. We got a siege to end tomorrow." Joffrey voiced from the bed in a sleepy tone.
Arya gulped and returned to the bed, stiffly laying down. This time, she didn't feel Joffrey shift closer to her. But sleeping was the last thing she had on her mind.
"Why are you doing all this?" She asked all of a sudden. "You went to the North to stop the Boltons. You killed the Freys. You killed the Tyrells. You…"
"That's what a king does." Joffrey softly answered her. Some of his words were genuine, some lies, and others sugar-coated facts. "Just because the last two kings did their best to ruin the realm doesn't mean I should follow in their footsteps. My father did enough to tarnish the Baratheon name—I'm merely cleaning up the mess. Peace… Peace across the Seven Kingdoms… That's my dream."
But was it a lie? His end goal was to secure his legacy, after all.
Arya said nothing in reply and asked something else. "What about Sansa? Is she just a playth—"
"I love Sansa," Joffrey replied without a second wasted. Perhaps he did love her in his own twisted way, he thought. He did feel the desire to protect her and their daughter. "I’ll marry her, but not yet. Not until the realm is at peace. The illusion that the rebellious lords can marry their daughters to me must remain until I've won overwhelmingly."
That includes the mother of three bloody dragons.
"And there is also the 'Others'... Ah, ignore that. No one would understand, they'd call me mad. Go to sleep, Arya. I won't lay a hand on you tonight." Joffrey turned his back towards her, an arm's length away from her.
"Then why me? Why are you trying to… to… bed me?" Arya asked.
Joffrey vocally chuckled. "I say, why not? You're charming, strong, and desirable—I fancy you."
Arya gulped, and it was heard all around. She dared not ask anything more. Her thoughts were in enough turmoil already.
####
The clattering sound of metal spread across the field. Joffrey stood in his armor, watching the castle Highgarden in the distance. It was already afternoon and the exploding scorpion arrows had stopped bombarding long ago. All they were waiting for now was the signal.
All eyes were on Highgarden.
Joffrey held the far-eye and looked at the main gates facing his direction. It was a sunny, warm day.
Come on. Let's end this madness.
"Gates are opening!" Joffrey alerted everyone. "The carriage is out. Wait for the signal!"
A small army of one hundred Unsullied soldiers under the lead of Ser Arthur stood at the ready on their horses.
A while later, all of them noticed the shine of a distant mirror. It was the reinsman of the carriage using a mirror to give the signal.
"Go! Bring the two bastards here!" Joffrey roared.
With that, the ground shook. One hundred horses ran at galloping speed across the small hilly grassland. They went straight to the carriage and surrounded it. It was the carriage of none other than Lord Hightower.
Hightower soldiers surrendered easily. After that, Ser Arthur opened the carriage door and dragged out two men—one tall and strong, and the other a cripple. Their hands and legs were quickly tied before being loaded onto the horses.
Lord Hightower's coach was then let go and the Unsullied soldiers marched back to Joffrey's camp.
Though Joffrey kept looking at the distant coach through his far-eye. He smiled deviously at the little game they had played. Lord Hightower had completed his part of the deal.
What a crazy old man. Weakening his own lands just for some extra knowledge.
"Bring me my crossbow," Joffrey ordered as soon as he put down the far-eye. He waited for Ser Arthur to return.
A little while later, the small army returned. Ser Arthur threw down the tied prisoners onto the grassy grounds, pushing them down on their knees. The two brothers glared at Joffrey in hatred.
"You! You demo—Aaaaaargh!"
Click!
"Aaaaargh!"
Joffrey didn't even wait for them to speak and shot a crossbow right at Garlan's thigh. On both of them.
"Now you two look like brothers," he mocked, his gaze fixed on Willas. "You're supposed to be the clever one, aren't you? Did you know what that old hag Olenna was planning? A plot against the crown, to kill the king, how despicable. You have no right to whine at my feet now. This? This is the price of your own betrayal."
"Your Grace, House Tyrell is willing to bear the responsibility and atone fo—"
Click!
"Aaaaargh!" Willas cried this time as he received a crossbow shot to his thigh.
"Oh, you can still feel it?" Joffrey murmured in surprise and shot the other thigh too. "Atone? How? By giving me gold? Selling another cunt from your house? No, none of that is enough anymore. I’ve decided to take Highgarden from you."
"T-Take it… Spare us." Willa growled in pain.
Joffrey smiled and lowered the crossbow. He gestured with his hand and quickly Val came forward with a wooden block and a parchment on it. It was a document, a proof of the transfer of possession.
Willas was the Eldest Tyrell, after all. He was the Lord.
Willas read the paper and frowned. He expected there to be a Lannister seal, but instead, the seal bore the Stag. That meant Highgarden was going to the crown, not the Lannisters. He looked up at Joffrey with little regret and even less awe. How old was this man? Twenty? Yet, he had outshined all.
"I… I’ll do it." Willas agreed. "But the seal is—"
"Don't worry, Lord Hightower was kind enough to hand it over." Joffrey saw through that excuse. "Ser Arthur, give him the seal. If he fails to make use of it by the time I count to five, I want you to take Garlan's head—One!"
"Two!"
Willas fumbled to rush. Despite the pain in his legs, he grabbed the Tyrell seal and slammed it on the parchment.
"Good." Joffrey held his arms behind him nonchalantly. "Ser Arthur, kill them."
"No! But you promised!" Willas roared.
"Stop this madness, bastard!" Garlan shouted, eyes red. "Unhand me and I’ll—"
Joffrey frowned. "When? I said nothing this whole time, Willas Tyrell. I shot your leg, not your brain."
Woosh!
Thud!
Ser Arthur swung his blade on Garlan's head first. After that, it was Willas' turn, already whimpering in fear. Most men would have been the same. It was death, after all.
I hope none get a second chance like me.
"Burn them," he ordered and looked at the castle in the distance. "Signal the Lannister army to advance. We'll follow. I won’t set foot inside until every rat and viper has been rooted out. I won’t have a dagger at my back or poison in my cup."
With that, the siege came to an end. All thanks to Lord Hightower following the boys and betraying them. It was just another day in Westeros. Backstabbing was more common than a rat in King's Landing.
Joffrey sat down comfortably after that and watched the Crowsland and Stormland army, along with a few Golden Legion captains, enter Highgarden. There was no resistance anymore, but bloodshed was going to happen.
Not a single person with Tyrell name was to be let go. Cousins, distant relatives, everyone with even an ounce of Tyrell blood in that castle was to be killed. Along with the most loyal soldiers and servants.
Joffrey had no desire to push his luck, after all.
"Ah, this will take time." Joffrey sighed and looked at the sky. The sun was setting. "Perhaps, I shall enter the castle tomorrow."
With that, he looked to his right. Arya was standing there like a statue, silent and armed. On his other side was Val, who was grinning and winking at him.
She's more excited for tonight than me.
"Val, have the men prepare water for my bath. I’ll retreat a little early tonight." Joffrey ordered and smiled at the Stark girl. "Isn't that right, Arya?"
Arya looked away.
It will be a joyous night.
####
The sun finally set, and the men having gone to Highgarden castle had yet to return. But there was no ambush inside, that had been confirmed already.
So, Joffrey retreated to his sizable tent to start the night and savor the fruits of his psychological victory. It took him months, but finally, it was happening. He waited for the men to bring in his bathtub, and fill it with hot water.
Once he found himself alone with Arya, he abandoned all his clothes and sat down in the warm water. He wanted to take it slow and make her comfortable first. "What are you waiting for? Get in the tub."
Arya licked her dry lips and nervously looked at him. "I… I don't think that…"
"I’ll see you bare soon enough. Eat that shame away and step in. I want you to rub my shoulders. They’ve been aching." Joffrey insisted, and relaxed further in the tub, spreading his legs wide.
Arya said nothing after that. Her hands moved slowly and removed the light armor first. Then, she lowered her tight breeches that were no different from a man's. Her slender, naked, toned legs came in clear view. But her tunic still hid everything above her thighs.
She then walked closer to the tub and looked into the water. The ripples made it hard to notice, but she could imagine his manhood already hard in there.
But this was the deal, and she was none to dishonor her word.
Embarrassed, she raised the hem of the tunic and lifted it off her head. Right away, her smallclothes came into view.
"Built like a warrior, yet charming like a maiden." Joffrey complemented the sight. Her breasts were a handful, and her belly was toned enough that he saw faint lines of abs. Without being too masculine, Arya was a sight to see. With her shorter frame compared to himself, he couldn't help but imagine how tight she was going to be that night.
"Take the rest off in the tub if it's so shameful."
Don't worry, I will help plenty.
The water stirred, and her toe entered the tub. Facing Joffrey, she settled on the opposite end of the tub. But it wasn't as big, so she had to sit between his spread legs, where his exposed cock was erect in salute. On top of that, the water barely reached her chest.
"Massage my shoulders," Joffrey ordered her. But he didn't move to allow her some space behind him. No, the idea was that she'd have to rise up on her knees in the tub and come closer to him—face to face.
I'd have appreciated some music in moments like this.
He watched as Arya shifted closer to him on her knees, between his legs. Her refined frame was strong but looked delicate in his eyes. Her oval face, the short, shoulder-length hair, and those gray eyes.
Joffrey reached for her waist as soon as she was within his reach. So slim, and warm, and soft, that he felt his palm melt. He captured her tightly and pulled her in close, finally letting her feel his hardness slide between her thighs and probe against that still-covered core.
"Why the shame?” He asked, looking at her drenched face thanks to the steam. "You're gorgeous, Arya."
Arya tried to hide her blush with a long exhale and looked away. It was no longer a one-sided action, after all. On top of that, Joffrey was the first man to actually compliment her looks. Finally, after being mocked as a horseface girl by Sansa for years, someone had a different opinion.
"Ah, that's good." Joffrey felt her hands land on his shoulders and start the slow massage. But he wasn't stopping either. As she massaged his shoulders, his hands went down from her waist to her fine, supple hips. He felt them and pulled her into himself even more until she was almost falling onto him.
Further down, more and more. Joffrey's hands took the liberty of feeling all of her ass. But he wanted more, so he tried to squeeze his palms through her small clothes. It was a loose piece of soft cloth tied around, hardly a challenge.
"Um…" Arya made a nervous sound. But she never stopped massaging his shoulder. Rather, to hide her face, she pressed herself closer against his chest, almost squeezing her mounds on him.
This is her first time. Joffrey licked his lips since she couldn't see him. It was always a pleasure claiming a maiden and being her first man. But he had already expected her maidenhead to be broken since she hadn't been very ladylike her whole life.
Finally, he pushed down all of her lower smallclothes, leaving her standing on her knees naked. The hot water openly splashed against her supple, soft ass. His palms groped them, spread them, and stretched them.
Dangerously so, as he probed the tiny star-shaped hole a few times. But that night, he was only interested in that nectar-dripping core. He went lower on her ass and spread his fingers between her thighs until he felt the drenched heat oozing.
The water was hot, but her body felt hotter. There was something different about it all. And now, it was getting hard to control.
"Turn around, it's time I give you a massage," Joffrey suggested and pushed her. Leaving her ass, he moved her by the shoulders and made her pivot in the water. Then, he pulled her back against his chest until his cock was fully underneath the crack of her ass, and she rested against him.
The naked warmth of their skin was electric to experience. Joffrey quickly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her neck right below her right ear. His hands rubbed across her front and reached for her breasts, feeling their tenderness.
"Ummmh…" Arya let out her first moan. Everything was new to her. His lips on her neck felt so ticklish and arousing at the same time.
Joffrey began to remove the cloth hiding her round breasts from him. "Let's not keep the treasures hidden now."
He pushed it down, and in doing so, pulled too hard. Soon enough, it came free and he wasted no time to yank it away.
At last, he had all of Arya's naked glory in his grasp. He looked down from her shoulders, her perky tits were just the perfect globes. He clasped them in both palms and felt them. The oozing heat, those tight, pink buds that flicked against his fingers.
"Your body is worth admiring, Arya," Joffrey muttered and squeezed her harder into himself. His cock under her ass throbbed already, seeking attention. But he didn't want to rush and ruin the mood. No, he wanted to win her over and carve out a place in her heart. "Look at me."
Moving one hand, he gently pinched her chin and turned her face sideways. The water was still steaming, and that made everything feel mystical. The water drops on her face looked utterly divine.
"Look at my face, Arya."
Arya finally raised her eyes and looked, finding his eyes staring at her lips. She gulped, staring at his lips too. Her heart refused to calm down, and the water felt too hot.
Joffrey said nothing and moved his face closer, quickly locking a kiss with her tender, red, thin lips. It was soft and smooth, a passionate kiss, and rested on the surface for a while. But as Joffrey's hands both returned to her breasts, he found his way into her delicious mouth.
He melted inside her as their tongues coiled together. He absorbed her drugging nectar and deeply explored her in a frenzy. Every second felt like an eternity for his rising arousal, the savageness was slowly taking over. But he couldn't get enough of her lips, a taste of victory it felt.
He suckled her lower lips and swept and swirled inside her mouth. This was his claim and prize. This was the last thorn in his path to controlling the North.
I will cherish you well, Arya Stark. Just like your sister. Just like your mother.
His one hand left her breast then and went down against her belly. He felt goosebumps as soon as it slipped underwater. Before he knew it, he could feel her tight entrance. She was shaven, to his surprise, proof that she had expected this and had prepared beforehand early that morning.
Curving the middle finger, he tried to dip inside her—tight beyond his wildest dreams. But she felt slippery and thoroughly coated with her nectar. All the preparations had been done.
"Arya, raise your hips." Joffrey stopped kissing and tried to aid her weight.
He quickly brought his legs together and made Arya sit down on his lap, her legs spread wide, her back still against his chest as she rested on him. She looked at nowhere but his strengthened, veiny cock below her cunt. It was thicker than she remembered, or perhaps it was an illusion.
"Bite your teeth." He warned and easily raised her hips high and aimed his cock. He rubbed the cockhead all over her tight entrance first, coating himself in that warmth. With her on his lap, her cunt was also out of the water level.
"Aaaaah! J-Joffrey!" Arya yelled as soon as she felt it try to slide in.
Joffrey clenched himself hard. She was tight and amazing. "Only the tip's in… Hold on."
He hugged her waist with his arms to keep her in place and gently lowered her onto his cock while also pushing up inside her. The utterly unexplored walls of Arya's insides plucked apart and made space for his girthy cock.
As expected, she didn't bleed, but everything else was the same as a virgin maiden. Everything felt new inside, so intoxicating that he closed his eyes to experience her to the fullest. Inch by inch, he pierced into her.
"Ummmmm~!" Arya gritted her teeth hard, her hands squeezed on his arms that had gripped her belly. "J-Joooof~"
Joffrey hadn't pushed all in, but he pulled out slightly to give her a breather. But it barely lasted a second before he pushed back in with some extra force. The thrust went in good, splitting apart her sticky insides this time. He felt each and every throb of himself and her walls, the magical folds and the countless receptors of her body responding to his invasion.
These Stark women… Best cunts in Westeros.
From the fertile, middle-aged Catelyn to the obedient Sansa, and now rebellious but sensitive Arya. All three women had made him go weak in their tight cunts.
Fuck! I'm already close. Tonight's… going to be a long night.
"I'll move," he warned her. "Moan as loud as you want. Moan for me, Arya. Moan until the entire realm knows…"
"Aaaa! Mmm… God!" Arya actually moaned.
"...until the entire realm knows who claimed Arya… Ugh!" Joffrey pumped up into her wild core. "Stark!"
"Oh, oh—mmmm!"
Joffrey used the help of water to thrust into her. Feeling less weight, he thrust hard enough that each time her body rose high in the air before falling back onto his cock, without ever losing contact with her skin. He loved looking at her intoxicated face, her lips wide open and her eyes looking down at his cock disappearing inside her each time.
The little splashes of water were noisy, and sometimes the claps of their flesh also resounded. She felt hot, and burning, like everything inside her was tearing apart. But there was also pleasure… guilty pleasure that made her go insane. That warm, ticklish sensation across her skin. That confusing heartbeat.
Without realizing it, she pinched her own nipple and fondled her own breasts, subconsciously looking for more of that pleasure.
At that time, Joffrey also circled an arm around her waist and reached for her clitoris. He relaxed as much as he could and let Arya add to the jumps of her hips. It wasn't only him fucking anymore, but also Arya's own desire.
"Ugh… I'll fill you up, Arya. I will spill inside your tight cunt." Joffrey declared and picked up the pace. The water was turning cold, and he wanted to move on to bed next. "Do you-uh mind?"
"N-No-oh!" Arya cried.
"But we’ve brought Moon Tea with us," Joffrey revealed. "Shouldn't be an issue."
"Then…" Arya shifted all of a sudden. She stopped leaning back against his chest and made herself properly sit on her feet, squatting over his cock. Then, she began to pound herself hard on his entire length. Her hands held onto the tub's edges as she shouted like a wolf. "Aaaaaah… Yes… This is what you wanted? Isn't this what you wanted, Joffrey? Aaaah, mmm! Fuck!"
And so, the she-wolf is tamed.
Joffrey smiled ear to ear seeing her ass rise and fall on his cock. He was on the edge, but it seemed she was close too. So, he let her ride herself to completion first.
Just a few moments later, her core tightened and a frenzy took over. She panted like a horse after a chase. She squeezed herself tightly around his cock firmly stuck inside. The spill was hot and sweet, her first climax on a cock itself.
"Now my turn." Joffrey grabbed her hair and pulled her back against his chest. He fucked her in that position and spilled a thick load right inside her formerly virgin cunt. "Aaaah… Amazing…"
Pump after pump, he sprayed strings of white cream with never-ending profound shudders. It felt like heaven. As if there was a heart beating inside her cunt. He could feel his and her own pulse there. The tiny twitches and the squeezes.
"Mmm…" Arya looked down and saw his spill seeping out and dirtying the waters. She lost all hopes of going back from there and accepted this strange union. She accepted that hot warmth inside her core, racing to breach through her womb. She looked at her own belly and imagined it bigger, fuller.
Why did that make her feel warm, she had no idea. Jealousy towards Sansa, perhaps? She didn't know.
Too tired and panting, she just fell back against his chest. Joffrey didn't move her either and just held her tightly.
At last, the plans are going my way. This is how it should be… this is how a king should be.
He looked down at the fantastic body on his lap. Yet again, he added a new treasure to his harem of women. Another amazing cunt to drown himself in. In all honesty, he felt far better than Robert. After all, he mostly fucked noblewomen and wasn't a drunkard.
And I conquered Westeros once again.
"Let's move to the bed."
"What?!" Arya exclaimed and looked behind.
Joffrey chuckled and pulled her up with himself. Knowing her legs would be weak, he lifted her in a princess carry and took her to the bed.
"You're too gorgeous to be tasted in one go, Arya." He threw her onto the bed and crawled on top of her, reaching for her face. "I'm already hard enough for a second run."
Arya felt her heart race yet again. She already felt sore, but that sensation was so addicting that she had no desire to refuse. But, asking for it was shameful.
"Umm…" She felt his cock rubbing across her entrance. She was too sensitive. "Um-hum…"
I know you want it.
"Say it," Joffrey demanded.
"W-What?"
"Say who you belong to now."
"What?"
"Say it!"
Arya raised her head and looked at her cunt between their bodies. His cockhead was already probing her entrance but never going in. It made her desperately needy.
"Say it, Arya Stark. Who do you belong to now?"
"Joffrey!" She shouted in need.
"Joffrey who?" Joffrey jammed half of his cock into her soaking, sensitive, swollen red cunt. "Say it all!"
"Ooooh!" Arya exhaled loudly and screamed for all to hear. "I belong to Joffrey Baratheon—Ah!"
Joffrey drowned himself all the way inside her. Her deepest core revisited, it was a heaven compared to the cold outside. A cunt that wrapped him so well as if it was made to be fucked by him.
You’re mine now, Arya Stark.
Joffrey speared in hard and began the heavy thrusts. It was a rather boring position for sex, but he fancied it for the time being. The more dangerous, explorative moments were for later. For now, he desired to make her go insane around his cock.
The entire night was ahead of him, and he had no plans of leaving her cunt empty for more than an hour.
But it wasn't just her amazing, tight body that aroused him. No, it was the thought of finally having her and Sansa together in the Red Keep.
It was the thought of having her, Sansa, and Catelyn someday.
Ugh… I'm close again! Fuck, she's tighter than a giant's grip!
####
It was no shock to Joffrey, Val, or anyone among the Golden Legion that Arya couldn't walk the next day. Morning came, and Ser Arthur returned to report. Joffrey ate his breakfast and wore his light armor.
Yet, Arya was still asleep in the bed. Thoroughly spent, stretched, utterly sore, and completely drained in terms of her energy. The lovemaking session had gone beyond her wildest expectations, and it was just her first time.
"Fine, fine, I’m not blind." Joffrey sighed as he noticed Val staring daggers at him and giving him lustful, lip-biting looks. "I’ll leave Arya be tonight. You better spread your legs and welcome me in my bed tonight, in the castle."
Val giggled and playfully scoffed. "How crude, oh mighty King of kneelers. Is that how you talk to a woman?"
Joffrey smirked. "Fine, I'll go to Arya then."
"Go on… Don't complain if I suddenly, mistakenly bite that cock of yours one morning."
Ah, there's the Wildling I love.
"When is grandfather coming?" Joffrey changed the topic to something more serious. "Did he fall from his horse and break his neck?"
"You are lucky." Ser Arthur joined in the playful mood. "But you're not that lucky, Your Grace."
Joffrey sighed. His patience was waning, so he got up. "I'm bored. Ser Arthur, start marching. I'll see him in the damn castle."
####
Highgarden was beyond Joffrey's expectations. It was grand, beautiful, and luxurious to the point that he felt the Red Keep was a poor man's den. The fine curtains, the carpets, the ornaments, the decorations, and so many flowers all around.
He regrouped with Tywin inside the castle and followed Ser Arthur down into the underground levels to reach the grand prize of their siege—the vault.
Of course, much of the money that the Tyrells had was stored in the Iron Bank and a few other banks as well. But Joffrey was in no rush to get his hands on them since he already owned Highgarden. The parchment that Willas stamped his seal on also mentioned the wealth of Tyrells.
"We had to break the vault since the keys couldn't be found anywhere, Your Grace," Ser Arthur revealed. "It took fifty men and the entire night."
Joffrey didn't give a damn about it and followed the man downstairs. There was plenty of light due to the torches. It wasn’t damp either, unlike the black cells in the Red Keep. The more he saw that castle the more envious he felt.
Tommen is soon going to come of age. Perhaps a nice cunt and a grand castle will be a worthy gift. Joffrey started planning already. But he found himself going back on his previous plan. No, I'll keep Arya for myself. Let's find him another dumb whore.
"This way, Your Grace."
At last, they arrived at the bottom. They took one last turn and there it was a wide, round, hole in the wall. It was large enough for five men to walk inside side by side without touching the top. Currently, there were ten Golden Legion soldiers standing guard.
Don't disappoint me. He prayed to the gods and walked closer.
He stood in front of the hole and peeked inside. He felt his heart beat faster now than when he was shagging Arya.
How could he not?
Seven fucking hells! No wonder they had the audacity to kill me.
"This… How much is it?" Joffrey was speechless. The entire vault was slightly smaller than a lord's main hall. Half the size of his throne room. It was filled with stacked gold dragons on one side, perhaps close to a million.
But what shook him was the other wealth. There were literal bricks made of gold stacked in one place, then a pile of gold ore. There was silver plenty, hills of it. Complete, precious sets of armor. Silk that was embroidered more finely than what he had in the Red Keep. There were ancient books and tomes as well. So many precious things that it was hard to put a real number on them.
"Ser Arthur, leave us be." Joffrey looked at Tywin, who looked a little surprised. "Grandfather?"
Tywin controlled his expressions. "It's… less than what I expected."
You old fuck! How far do you plan on lying? The bloody mines of Casterly Rock are dry. Joffrey knew the old lion's bluff.
"Let's proceed according to the pre-planned deal," Joffrey declared, reminding the old man to not be so greedy. "But I suppose this is far from the end. Lord Redwyne is on the move. The ships will reach Lys very soon."
Tywin breathed deeply and faced his grandson who had grown a bit taller than him. No more scrawny, but rather a warrior, a planner, and a true lion. "Lannister Ships have joined them."
"So has the newly built royal fleet," Joffrey added. "There’s no need for worry. The gates of Lys and Tyrosh shall open from within. The magisters, the conclave, and those pathetic Archons will ‘tragically’ take their own lives in disgrace for their failure in this war."
Tywin feared that aspect of his grandson. He still had no idea how Joffrey was going to accomplish all that. How his grandson was going to make the two free cities open their gates. Where does that confidence come from?
"Are you planning on visiting the two?"
Joffrey nodded, a smug grin curling his lips. "A king must claim what’s his, doesn't he? But I'll need someone skilled to manage my new lands, to keep them in line as the Crown's extended territories. When I have sons, they’ll be princes of Lys and Tyrosh, and they’ll rule in my name."
Tywin spoke nothing afterward. There was much adoration, but also a bit of bitterness. Why couldn't Jaime be like that? Or why couldn't Joffrey be his son? Why the curse of an imp instead?
As for Joffrey, he was staring at all the gold concerning tackling future dangers.
With so much gold, I can build thousands of exploding scorpions. They’ll be immensely helpful in the war against the 'Others' and then… Joffrey smiled deviously. Against those vile dragons.
No matter how beautiful the silver-haired woman was, Joffrey only ever saw her as a threat. He feared her dragons more than anything. He feared the Targaryen history that had given the realm nothing but pain and misery.
The Seven Kingdoms are mine now—Only mine!
####
Meereen, Essos.
"Yunkai is out of control, Khaleesi." Ser Jorah inferred as he stared at Daenerys across the map table. The heat of Meereen was such that she had to wear clothing suitable for her skin, which often left much of her body exposed, much of which he admired. "You must rule them—"
"And I will do so," Daenerys replied, noticing Ser Jorah's eyes that lingered far too long over her exposed belly. "This time, I won't make the same mistake. All the slave masters shall be executed."
Jorah frowned at that and raised his voice slightly. "Khaleesi, men are not weapons. Brutality never stops brutality—The slaves need a benevolent leader."
"Then what will you have me do? Leave Meereen and go to rule Yunkai? They are savages, Ser Jorah. Savages only know the blade, not the blessing of peace and love. I have made my decision, and Ser Barristan will lead the Second Sons to kill the slave masters." Daenerys resolutely declared. "This is my final decision."
Thud!
"Your Grace!" Ser Barristan entered swiftly, urgency in his voice. "Word from the West! King Joffrey has invaded Lys and Tyrosh, striking as soon as Highgarden fell!"
Daenerys froze with a slight frown. Every single time she heard Joffrey's name these past few days it was accompanied by an achievement. "Highgarden fell? How many men did Joffrey lose?"
Sir Barristan exhaled and handed the parchment to her. "None. He won without losing a single man. House Tyrell is now history."
"That makes him more dangerous than his usurper father!" Jorah declared. Nobody called him a bastard anymore.
Daenerys was still reading the parchment, however. This was from a spy, not Joffrey himself. She felt her breath racing by merely reading the achievements. The words already declared that Joffrey was going to win easily.
What kind of man is he?
"Aren’t Lys and Tyrosh deeply involved in the slave trade?"
"Their economies depend on it," Jorah responded. How could he not when his beloved wife was taken by a Lysene merchant prince. "It's as vile as Meereen or Yunkai. In Lys, they breed beautiful slaves to produce slaves of greater beauty."
Daenerys nodded and walked closer to the table in the middle and looked at the map. She looked at Lys and Tyrosh's marks on it.
"That means he’ll deal with the same challenges as we’re dealing with."
Ser Barristan agreed right away. But unlike before, he never mocked Joffrey. The boy had proven himself. "He will."
Jorah didn't like that sparkle in her eyes. "What’s on your mind, Khaleesi?"
"I want to see it," she muttered and traced the map in a straight line towards Meereen. "I want to know if and when Joffrey Baratheon will visit one of them."
Jorah and Ser Barristan looked at each other, speechless.
"Your Grace, sailing so far is dangerous," Ser Barristan warned.
Daenerys chuckled and looked up at the two men.
"No, I won't be sailing there. I will be flying. If he is as loyal to me as he declares in his missive, I’ll have him prove it."
"What if he attacks you?" Jorah asked.
The smile vanished from her pretty, pale face. She coldly looked down at Westeros this time.
"I'll have him taste fire."
______________
A/N: The Joffrey X Arya bathtub art posted a few days ago was related to this chapter.
Question: Who to match Tommen with? It needs to be someone who isn't too smart and ambitious. Not someone like Margaery or Ygritte.
Comments
MrPlotThickens
She's in the Red Keep. Away from her mum. Just like Robert Arryn, another puppet to use later.
Caimbeul
I can’t remember, what happened to Shireen?
Lord Mehmeh
Tyene sand and she is familiar with the territory of the reach and is kind of not used
Lord Mehmeh
Not even for the romance I am excited for them finally meeting
woody wolff
Lyanna Mormont would be good. As far as I remember she isn’t ambitious at all but that could be too much power consolidation in the north.
MrPlotThickens
The idea of such threesome did cross my mind. Maybe in future chapter.
Goxo
Talla Tarly to further strengthen the bond between houses, or one of the Manderly granddaughters to get a reason to visit the north and catch up with the Starks while he is there. Also, will there be a threesome between the two warriors women anytime soon?
