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GOT: The Golden Lion 27 - Joffrey The Conqueror
🕑 Added 2024-10-09 17:21:11 +0000 UTCThe ravens went far and beyond. It was chaos throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Limited, however, since no Lord and Lady had the guts to say anything about Joffrey's invasion of Lys and Tyrosh.
The Faith of the Seven openly declared it the Seven's will, and that Joffrey was their apostle. The Citadel praised it and called it just, as the Maesters were against slavery, and the two Free Cities were heavily into it.
Sadly, no one had any idea why Joffrey was invading them. He only saw them as goldmines and nothing more. Sure, he'd get rid of slavery officially, but it would continue under the guise of 'work'. Lys was a city that was nothing more than a glorified, luxurious brothel. Tyrosh was a mercantile city with strong trade ties across Essos.
Gold was all that Joffrey wanted. He had no dragons to secure his throne, so he wanted to gild it with gold. So much gold that every man and woman would think a thousand times before even raising their gaze at him.
But, for now, he was deeply involved in taking over the entire realm. The reply from Dorne was still in the waiting, and the Iron Islands were already deemed a target to be destroyed by Joffrey.
Thankfully, the game had already begun. Now it was Theon's turn to make Joffrey proud.
####
Iron Islands, Pyke Island.
Theon arrived at Pyke Island after a long journey. With a mission, but also some hope in his heart. The plan and the task given to him by Joffrey weren’t only going to save him, but also grant him the Seastone chair.
"What?!"
That was his first reaction when he arrived at Pyke Island. His father was dead, and Euron Greyjoy had returned, and even became the new King of the Iron Islands. The entire mood of the Iron Islands had shifted towards expansionism. Euron wanted Westeros, and he wanted it at all costs.
Just one meeting with Euron and Theon knew that defeating that man was impossible. Joffrey's plan had taken Balon into consideration, not Euron. A far more cunning, ruthless, and dangerous man. A man well-versed in the magical nature of the Far East.
So, he had no choice but to continue with the second half of the plan.
The plan was to use Asha and drive her away from the Iron Islands. Right into Joffrey's palms; so a war in her name could be justified since she was the next in line after Balon.
"Sit here and scheme all you like, but nothing will come of it. He's got the lords wrapped around his finger with those promises." Theon tried to convince his sister.
"I'm telling you, Asha, Joffrey’s the key. With him, we can take back what’s ours—what's yours. He’s got the Crown’s fleet, the Redwyne, and soon, Tyrosh and Lys at his beck and call. With that, we can crush Euron before he even sees it coming."
Asha took a long sip of her ale, her eyes never leaving her brother. There was no warmth in her gaze, only a cold indifference. "Trust your word? Aye, and I’ll believe in the sun rising in the west next. I can't even recall the last time I saw you, Theon."
"Then stay here and rot. Euron will sell you to some decrepit old man, and that will be your fate—nothing more than a lord's plaything. You despised the thought of being some noble’s wife, yet that’s the life that awaits you now. Euron cares nothing for you, just as he cared nothing for our father. The whispers are true; I believe them—he killed father."
Asha scoffed. "Did the Starks teach you to bark like that?"
"Have your way then." Theon frustratingly got up and left his sister. He was surprised how the discussion with Asha went exactly as Joffrey had predicted. The key was going slow and being persistent. The goal was to slowly make her realize that nobody saw her worth at the Iron Islands.
For the day, his work was done. But he still wanted to find out what Euron was up to.
An attack on Westeros could bring doom to Joffrey's plans.
####
Stonehelm was a castle in the Stormlands. It was the ancient seat of House Swann, and it was loyal to Joffrey for his Baratheon 'blood'. As the siege of Highgarden ended, Joffrey rode quickly towards the east coast and arrived at the castle that sat on the shores of the Sea of Dorne. From there, he aimed to direct the subjugation of Tyrosh and Lys.
"Ah, ah, that's right! That's how we fuck beyond the Wall! Oh… This is how you won me-eeeh… King of kneelers."
Joffrey grunted and kept driving into Val. Holding one of her legs up against his chest, her body lay sideways as he pounded between her legs with thrusts hard enough to shove her against the headboard. The animalistic nature of his sexual prowess was only seen by Val because she demanded it.
"What else to expect from a wildling." Joffrey teased her and pressed down forward, which also made the leg he held stretch and open her up even more. Her creamy, pale, well-toned legs were a delight to hold. But even hotter was the annoyed glare in her blue eyes. "Oh, I meant Free Folk."
"Ummh!" She still enjoyed it but with a smirk on her face. "As expected from a vile mum fucker."
Joffrey's cheek twitched at that jab. So, he pressed harder on her, stretching her so much that she had to start squirming. It was pleasure and pain combined. His hips thrust into her tight core with all his might and length. He kept her leg caught by one hand and used the other hand to clench and fondle her fantastic large breasts.
"Quite a nasty mouth you got."
"Of course it is. You came in it," she shot back instantly.
Her bloody mouth. Joffrey felt at a loss. She's amazing.
"All fours! Now!" He released her and pulled his cock out. She was writhing already, their sexual night having entered the fourth hour and her fifth climax. Joffrey had finished once already in her mouth, but he wanted to give her more to compensate for the past months.
Giggling, she turned around and got on her elbows and knees. Her amazing honey-blonde locks were untied and sprinkled in a mess, a perfect mix of everything in Joffrey's view. Her fantastic round ass, that soaked, flushed pussy, and that arching muscled back.
"No relaxing." Joffrey drove in her clenching depth and slammed all his length to the hilt. He remained there and leaned slightly forward, reaching for her long, blonde hair with one hand. He twisted his palms round, making a thick rope out of the locks. It was enough to make it clear what was coming. "You wanted me to fuck you like a savage? There you… go!"
"Aaaaah!" Val moaned and cried the loudest that night.
Her torso was raised by the tug on her hair, and she had to rise up with her arms. But Joffrey continued to pull until she had only the fingers left to support her front. "Fuck! You darn scheming scoundrel!"
It was extremely common to exchange curses when fucking Val. Joffrey was so used to it that they didn't even register.
Pa!
Joffrey pulled his hips and clapped in hard. Spearing through her tight, suffocating walls, he felt each throb of her insides. He gulped hard and stared down at the beautiful site of the union of his length and her cunt. Every time he pulled out, her tightness made it so that the rim of her pussy lips would stretch out, scraping around his girth. It was all wet and dripping mess, yet so tight that it was heaven.
Or perhaps it was just his size that was too much.
Pa!
The squelching clapping thrusts became so much more audible. An insane rush reached into Joffrey's head and made him chase that wild release at the depth of her core. That night, he wanted to lay his seed in her womb and tickle her cervix.
"Still feeling good? Want more?"
"Do your worst! Hehe!" Val talked back, her neck bent backward because of Joffrey's grip.
"Fine."
Joffrey thrust harder, each making a ripple across her asscheeks and jiggled her breasts. The bed creaked with their rhythm, and her moans filled the room. Yet, the thrusting smacks and the squelches came out even louder.
Very soon, Joffrey felt the tremors inside her. Her tight convulsions squeezed him. He kept going at it to aid her release. At the end of the day, he cherished Val, so he released her hair and let her fall face-first on the pillow.
That raised her ass higher, so he slammed in harder and deeper to the limit. Her squirming climax soon followed, and the sweet sweet nectar drizzled everywhere inside her and around his girth. With his thrusts, it gushed out and turned into a frothy mess.
He was also close as the insane, scorching tightness had made him sore. After so much thrusting inside her, fatigue had finally appeared.
He clasped her asscheeks with both hands and squeezed them tight. He kneaded them as the itching spasms arose. He flexed himself inside her and bucked hard and at last spread forth a final thrust deep to her cervix. There, he squeezed himself out dry. More watery than the first time, but much more in quantity.
The white royal seeds filled her instantly.
"Ugh!" Joffrey tried to shove himself in harder as the climax was insane. Feeling that liquid mess travel through his pipe and spill inside her was a matter of pride. Half of the realm talked about her, and half of the realm lusted after her, if not felt jealous of her beauty.
A true Wildling princess.
A Wildling princess for him to bed and breed whenever he desired.
What a life it was.
"There you go." Joffrey finally fell on her back, pressing her underneath himself. His length slipped out at the same time, continuing to make a mess between her tightly straightened legs.
He kissed the back of her neck and then shifted slightly to her shoulders. Her face was also turned sideways, so he kissed her lips for a quick peck. The satisfied look on her face was a great pride booster for him.
"Y-You haven't lost it yet… King of kneelers." She murmured tiredly. "It was a good fuck."
"It was." Joffrey finally got off her entirely and rested beside her body. He soon held Val in his arms as she hugged him from the side, one leg already pressed on his calmed shaft.
"Joffrey, have you ever thought about what our sons and daughters would look like?" She asked suddenly. It was a strange question since she had never talked about that before.
Joffrey hummed. "Tall, beautiful, strong, and absolutely cunning—definitely blonde."
Val exhaled with a chuckle and nestled her face below Joffrey's chin. "No doubt about blonde."
"Why? You want children?" Joffrey asked her seriously. "I suppose I don't mind. But know this: you must abandon the Kingsguard and reside in Winterfell until the babe is born."
There was a moment of silence before her answer. "No, I can wait."
"Once the White Walkers are dealt with, I'll give you what you want. One in your belly, then another soon after. I expect three—golden-haired, perfect heirs. They’ll grow to be lords of some houses." Joffrey painted a beautiful picture.
Val frowned. "Lords? Won't they be bastards?"
"No child of mine will ever be called a bastard. I put it in your belly, so it's mine." Joffrey proclaimed, a rare show of intimate emotions from his usual calculative mind. "I can't promise the throne, but I'll make them lords and ladies."
"How? There aren't many empty places left."
"Hah! Oh, Val. You still don't get me?" Joffrey laughed at that and kissed her forehead. "I'll simply exterminate a few houses and build anew."
Val fell silent and just nodded.
Indeed, that fit Joffrey so well. The Freys were already gone, and so were the Tyrells. She prayed for peace in the afterlife for whoever was to come next.
####
Lys the Lovely, one of the nine Free Cities of Essos. It was small, sitting clung to rocks surrounded by stormy seas. That made the city harder to invade and attack, as nature was their protector.
The city was protected by high walls and hired sellswords. But how much could the sellswords do in a society that considered trade more honorable than arms? As soon as the sellswords fell, there was nothing left to stop the invasion.
Joffrey didn't send his Golden Legion to attack Lys. Nor did he send more than two captains to oversee things. The Redwyne fleet had brought some Wildlings for the sacrifice. Lannister’s navy, the Crown's navy, and soldiers from the same participated.
Joined together, the three navies combined to form perhaps the world's largest naval fleet. And unlike the merchant fleets, theirs was ready for war.
As the night approached Lys, the Westerosi ships reached the shore of Lys. The city's loud bells rang right away as the guards on the walls saw the intruders. But that was all that happened. The soldiers never fired an arrow or threw burning oil as Joffrey’s 50,000-strong army marched at the gates.
Soon after, the gates opened up as if to welcome them. There wasn’t a single sellsword there to stop Joffrey's army. Who opened the door was unknown too. The only thing the commanders knew was that King Joffrey had arranged for everything.
Their job was to simply enter the city and claim it peacefully. No raping, no pillaging, no mass violence. Lys was to be the Crown's territory, after all.
The army swept through all the streets, gathering the sellswords and any other enemy with a weapon. But when they arrived at the massive mansions, and the Conclave of magisters, to their shock, all the proud magisters were already dead.
Some fuming poison from their mouths. Some with their throats slit. Who did it? When did that happen? Any knights or Lords that participated in that easy campaign were left frightened by the King's reach.
"Gather the ledgers! Gather the servants of Magisters! By morning, the city must fly the King's flag!"
With that, the city's bells stopped ringing as if nothing had transpired.
####
At the same time, Tyrosh was slightly more challenging to conquer. It was a fortress city protected by high walls. It was far larger than the shadow city of Sunsper. On top of that, the city had a large fleet.
Yet, what could one do when the invasion began from inside the city? Only the sellswords guarding the city walls needed to be dealt with, and the rest was up to the invading army to conquer.
Tyroshi nature—boisterous, flamboyant, and greedy—made it easier to entice the sellswords with the lure of a feast and lots of wine. Far more potent with additives combined. By the time the sellswords returned to their positions, their minds were numb, and their senses dull.
No one realized when the small boats landed at their shore and a massive army approached the city gates. Then, as soon as the gates opened, the massacre ensued. This time Joffrey's army had to fight for victory.
But it was easy as sellswords held no loyalty to Tyrosh. As soon as they saw themselves being overwhelmed, they all retreated and tried to run. Of course, none was spared even then. Not even the bells could ring in the city.
It didn't take long before the army reached the residence of Archon of Tyrosh. The man was slaughtered, beheaded, and packed to be sent back for Joffrey to see. Following that, the conclave of the wealthiest and the nobles was targeted. Before killing them, each one was offered a lifeline if they gave away their wealth.
Sadly for them, no amount of wealth was enough for Joffrey. He wanted them dead from the beginning. He had a plan on how to run the two Free Cities and that involved change.
####
Knock! Knock!
Joffrey opened his eyes annoyedly and looked towards the door. It was late, just a few hours before dawn.
Knock! Knock!
"What happened?" Joffrey finally moved, gently sliding away Arya's bare frame that was hugging him.
He quickly wore his breeches and walked up to the door. He didn't care if anyone saw the King sleeping with Arya. At that point, her moans were the talk of legends.
It was Ser Arthur beyond the door.
"This better be important."
"It's done, Your Grace. Lys and Tyrosh have fallen," Ser Arthur announced. "The Baratheon flag flies high."
"It's merely been two weeks," Joffrey muttered in surprise. "I expected it'd take a month at the very least."
"Your plan was perfect, Your Grace. The men faced no challenges, and the gates opened for them on their own. They didn't have to use any exploding scorpions, nor fight large battles," Ser Arthur added and took out the missive from his pocket. "Captain Blood Leech sent this."
Joffrey took the missive and read it. It detailed the wealth the army had gathered by the time of writing it. "That's a lot."
"Should I prepare for departure?" Ser Arthur asked.
Joffrey nodded and looked behind Arya on the bed. She was awake and looking at him, her hands hiding her supple breasts with the sheets. In the end, he decided to take her along. "We depart before noon for Lys, Ser Arthur. Order the Golden Legion to be prepared."
"Very well, Your Grace."
Thud!
Joffrey shut the door again and locked it before turning back to the bed. Seeing the wide, gray eyes of Arya made him feel warm again. So, he pushed down his breeches and walked back to the bed, naked as the day he was born.
"What happened?" Arya asked him. The blush and shame was still there on her face, but after having done it dozens of times, seeing his dangling hard cock didn't seem surprising.
Joffrey crawled onto the bed from the foot side and shifted closer to Arya while pulling away the quilt from her body. Her palm-sized breasts came into view, and then her muscled belly, followed by her fantastic tight cunt.
Without saying anything, he settled between her legs and rubbed his royal cockhead on her entrance, slowly making her feel the heat and prepare her. But he wasn't a brute to thrust in her so dryly. So, he leaned forward and hovered over her face.
"Lys and Tyrosh are now mine."
"That quick?!" Arya exclaimed, gulping at the sensation between her legs.
Joffrey lowered further and licked the pink peak on her breast. He fondled them with both hands, cupping them to form a softer hill. He grounded himself on her cunt at the same time, humping her without sliding inside.
"I told you I'd win easily," Joffrey responded to her at last. "Might as well celebrate the victory since we're awake."
Joffrey kissed her right then, and unlike their first time, Arya reciprocated. It was unknown if there was love, but there was definitely acceptance. She allowed him to probe his tongue inside her delicious lips, and her legs wrapped around his waist, squeezing his ripe length closer to her needy petals.
"Ummh…" Arya moaned into his mouth and played a tug of war with his tongue. She caressed his blonde hair with her slender fingers, holding him against her face. It was warm and primal. "Aaaah!"
Joffrey finally slid inside her, displacing her tightness with his veiny, weighty shaft. The clenching walls sifted open to welcome him, and he planted himself deep inside her until nothing more was left. He didn't move, however, and kept kissing her.
The warmth inside Arya, the tightness, and that throbbing pulse was far more enjoyable than just fucking her. He often enjoyed doing her rough, but sometimes, there was more pleasure in going slow. It felt more intimate, blood rushing to his aroused head.
"Arya…" Joffrey stopped kissing her and caressed her face. "After this is over, I’ll journey to the North to check the Wildling situation. You’ll come with me, won’t you?”
"I would love to. Haven't seen my Mother in a long time… or my home." She replied. "Can we bring Sansa?"
Isn't that the plan? Joffrey thought inside. It was a dream to bed the three Stark ladies together, so bringing Sansa along was unquestionable.
"Why not? I'm sure Lady Stark will find joy seeing Joanna."
"Ah!" Arya felt him thrust finally. But she silently smiled and hugged his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. She accepted him wholeheartedly for the time being, letting him plow through her insides like he owned her.
His heated pumps gained strength and speed, and before he knew it, her moans melodiously filled the room. It was a joy to paint her insides white with his seed. But too bad, now was not the time to put one in her womb.
"Ugh!" Joffrey paid no heed to controlling his urges at that time. He simply wanted to mindlessly fuck her and spill inside. Naturally, Arya climaxed too since his length was more than adequate. Each thrust of his rubbed against the clitoris at the same time, leaving her powerless like a doll.
Such a joy of life. Joffrey relished every moment.
Before long, he came with aching shudders and filled her to the brim with both his cock and the batter. But it was a ritual to keep thrusting until he could not longer. It was a ritual to leave her sore and sticky between her slender sweet legs.
Too bad, Val would have loved to join us.
He knew Arya was not yet prepared for that. He had to go slow.
Soon… Very soon.
####
Meereen,
"Khaleesi, Lys, and Tyrosh have fallen!" Ser Jorah reported in a rushed tone. "They fell without a fight."
"Just as the others,” Ser Barristan commented. "My Queen, every victory of his comes with little bloodshed, yet the results are decisive. We can no longer afford to take him lightly. He is more cunning, more calculating than any foe we’ve faced. In truth, he’s surpassed even his grandfather in this."
Daenerys silently gazed at the map. Amazed, interested, and threatened. She felt so many things about this man she'd only heard about. She felt the need to know more about him. How can one subjugate the likes of Free Cities without bloodshed? Even Tyrosh, the one meant to be impenetrable?
"How many men did he use?" Daenerys asked. "Did he overwhelm them with numbers?"
"No, Khaleesi. The word is that the gates of Lys and Tyrosh did not fall by force, but opened from within. It would seem Joffrey’s schemes ran deeper than we thought, his spies were already in place, weakening the cities before a single sword was drawn. The defenses were not overcome; they were undone,” Ser Jorah explained, his own voice shaking at the mention of spies. "Ser Barristan is right. He's too dangerous."
"What of the slave masters? The Conclave?" Daenerys asked.
"All dead," Ser Barristan answered, his voice grave as steel. "The nobles, the Archon, every man who held power—they are all gone, swept away like leaves before a storm."
"A storm it was." Daenerys looked at Jorah. "Yet, you advise me to be gentle on Yunkai and Astapor?"
"Your Grace, Joffrey is a fool. He’s sullied his hands with blood, and he will never hold Lys and Tyrosh completely. He’ll always fear rebellion."
Daenerys regarded the man with disdain, her voice laced with icy contempt. "You call him a fool when he has achieved more in a fortnight than you have in an entire year? Tell me, where is Joffrey now?"
"He has arrived at Lys,” Ser Barristan answered.
"Then I shall visit him and see where his loyalty lies."
Ser Barristan didn't object to her wish anymore. The old man felt confused too as Joffrey was something else in his memories. But he did have some advice for her.
"Your Grace, should he prove his loyalty, I pray you find it within yourself to welcome him to your side…" Ser Barristan paused momentarily. "...as a man."
"Khaleesi, this is folly! You cannot trust him—he is both a Baratheon and a Lannister, two houses steeped in treachery and ambition! His loyalty lies with himself alone." Jorah interrupted hastily. "He will doom us."
Daenerys seemingly ignored Jorah's outburst and looked at Barristan. "Why do you suggest that, Ser Barristan?"
The old knight solemnly replied. "Your Grace, by simply taking the throne one does not become the King. As we saw in Yunkai and Astapor, your absence brought chaos. Westeros is not a singular realm but a tapestry of seven kingdoms. To weave them into a united whole, you require more than just a seat of power—A key that can help you bind the realm together."
"And Joffrey is that key?" She asked further.
At that, the old knight had no definite answer.
"That is for you to find out."
Daenerys hummed and crossed her arms. She looked at her loyal friend, Missandei, and found the Summer Islander nodding.
"Very well, I shall meet him at the Orange Shore. If he dares to refuse my summons for a private parley, I shall burn Lys to the ground with him."
####
Seven fucking hells! Lys is beautiful!
Joffrey arrived at the Free City and walked through the street. There were crowds of people, mainly women of Lys who worked at the pillow houses. What shocked him was how beautiful so many of the women were. So many of them had white hair and vividly colorful eyes. Delicate to ripe, tall to short—Lys was a heaven for people seeking pleasure.
Of course, it made him hard. But more than that, he saw gold attached to every beautiful face he noticed.
Oh, Chataya is going to love this. She better not ask me for gold for using her brothel ever again.
Very soon, Joffrey arrived at the massive building that was once the gathering place of the Conclave. Now, it was Joffrey's personal palace. The large room with many chairs was replaced with only one throne-like seat.
The Golden Legion soldiers armed the entire palace, ensuring that no assassin or hidden spy could harm the King.
Soon enough, he sat down on the throne on the raised platform. He looked down at the rest of the hall, and it was a fantastic feeling. With this, the Crown was going to earn millions of gold every month. Gold that he planned to use to secure his throne for generations to come.
"Your Grace, the High Priestess of the Red Temple of Volantis is here to speak," Val notified him.
Joffrey smiled and nodded, allowing the woman to enter the new throne room for the King.
Soon, the doors made a sound. A lone, tall figure walked inside, draped in a tight red gown, beautiful from all sides. Her black hair was like the darkest night, and her skin was pale as the moon. It was revealing, as her magnificent large breasts struggled to spill out from the wide neck of the dress.
Her face was sharp, her eyes sparkling gray, and her thin brows just like her red lips. In every right, the Red Priestess was a beauty.
Joffrey watched her with keen interest. He couldn't stop looking at her necklace, however. He wondered if she was the same as Melisandre—An old, ugly witch maintaining her youth with the magical gem.
Her mouth will do too. He thought in the end.
He had no doubt that if he were to demand, the Red Priestess would disrobe and ride him on his chair right then and there. But he had some regal dignity to maintain. Besides, he knew that this woman was far higher in authority than Melisandre.
"Greetings, Your Grace. I am Kinvara, the High Priestess of the Red Temple of Volantis, the Flame of Truth, the Light of Wisdom, and First Servant of the Lord of Light."
First? Joffrey was shocked by that title. If Melisandre was so old, then how old was this woman? How old was the religion of the Lord of Light?
At that point, Joffrey felt uncomfortable. Was this woman on his side?
"Welcome to Lys, High Priestess. By the First Servant, do you truly mean the First?" he asked, his tone laced with a mix of curiosity. "Feel free to remain silent if my question is too bold."
Kinvara smiled, and it was so charming that even the cockless Unsullied might have felt something. She was dangerous, and it was very clear by her relaxed presence.
"The Lord of Light bestows upon the titles, and I merely carry the weight." She responded and climbed the stairs to get closer to Joffrey.
"And what brings you here?" Joffrey asked further. "Surely, my request was too puny to deserve your attention."
"I have come seeking the Azor Ahai that Melisandre spoke of." Her accent spilled from her spell-like words. "To behold the man destined to stand between the living and the dead. To witness the man who defeated death—Yet you, my dear, do not bear the mark of the Prince that was promised. Daenerys Targaryen—Reborn from the fire to remake the world, does."
Joffrey stood up instinctively. The raging lunatic inside his body that was the old Joffrey demanded to have this woman beheaded for her words. But it was also an instinct that held him back. He didn't want to offend her… No, he couldn't afford to offend her.
"Then why did you help?" He asked, lips dry. Her calm, yet wide gaze scared him more than facing any battle. This woman knew this was his second life, and she knew far more.
Kinvara continued to climb the stairs and finally stood face to face with Joffrey, her height slightly shorter than the King. "Because you have a part in what is to come. As was Daenerys reborn, so were you—Not from fire, but from death itself. Know this: all unfolds with purpose, and each purpose is a whisper of the Lord's design."
Joffrey gulped and felt her delicate hand reach for his arm and hold him. "T-The visions…"
"You are blessed, King Joffrey. A destiny of immense weight rests upon your shoulders, and I am here to see to it that you reach the end of the tunnel to embrace the light. You defy death, and she embraces fire—The days of fire and blood are gone, no longer there shall be ice and fire—death and defiance shall bring the two together for the great war approaches."
She's…
Joffrey had nothing to say. He stepped back to be free from her touch. He had done nothing, but he felt tired already. "I-I hear you, High Priestess. Please, you may rest within the palace."
"Very well." Kinvara retreated and walked downstairs from the high platform. But she paused midway and looked back momentarily. "The fateful night you long awaited is upon you, Your Grace."
What does she mean?
He asked himself, unable to sound the question vocally. He just wanted her to leave.
Thud!
At last, he sat back in his seat.
Lost and confused.
####
King's Landing,
It was a night of stormy winds striking the walls of Red Keep. The sea was on the rise, the strong waves thrashing against the shore. The clouds painted all in the dark, leaving only the twinkling light of many torches across the castle.
The ladies and the servants slept. The Kingsguards and the leftover Golden Legion men protected Sansa and Joanna. But the Queen Mother's chamber remained unguarded, not a soul in regal armor and white cape there.
"Ummm… Jaime, my love!"
In the queen's chamber, it was a different story. Jaime, on Kingsguard duty that night, worked inside the chamber instead of outside. Holding the golden-haired Cersei in his strong arms, feeling her body from the front to the back.
His hands took the liberty to explore her plump bottom, squeezing them and fondling them while their lips locked together. He was the only man in the world who could treat the Queen like that. Or perhaps the second man, for the King had degraded her more.
"Take me, my love!" Cersei pleaded, rubbing her hand on his hardened groin nonstop. "It's been so long… Ah, I need you!"
Jaime said nothing and continued to push her body until he could no more. Her back was pressed against the barrier of the balcony, beyond which was a deep drop and stones. He kissed her profusely, taking in the taste of sweet wine out of her. He explored her breasts which had swollen up recently.
"Oooh… You're rough!" Cersei complained.
"Why?" Jaime muttered suddenly. "Why, Cersei?"
"Aaaah… What?" She let him kiss her neck.
Jaime kept feeling her and making love. "Why did you cross the line with our son?"
Cersei's eyes widened in shock. But, she didn't panic and rubbed his groin harder. It was easy to control Jaime with sex, she believed. "I-oh! I had no choice… He's my son! No other wo—oh! Woman has the right to sway him!"
"You have gone insane, Cersei." Jaime abruptly stopped kissing and stared at her face, keeping her pinned against the barrier. His eyes were red, tears pooling. The stubble beard that had grown was a sign of his mental state. Sleepless nights had left him on the verge of insanity. "W-Why? Why ruin everything? Why?"
"You won't understand, Jaime. I have sacrificed so much for us! For my son! He loves me as a mother and as a woman! I'm the happiest mother in the world!" She smiled and caressed her belly. "The proof of his love grows inside me, Jaime. Once I give him a son, the realm will be ours! Don't you see, Jaime? This is a blessing!"
In pure disgust, Jaime reached for her neck with both his hands, shivering as he did it. He clutched her hard and squeezed. Veins popped all over his forehead.
“Y-You're out of your mind… You will doom Joffrey… You’re so self-centered that you can't think! You want the bloody throne! You want the King's power! It's all you, Cersei! It's always been you… only you… No! I can't! I won't let you ruin my son's life!"
Cersei struggled to breathe and tried to free herself. She slapped Jaime's face and tried to claw at him. But that made Jaime's grip harder on her neck, suffocating her.
"G-Ghk… J-Jam…"
Tears rolled down from Jaime’s eyes, killing the love of his life. The most cherished woman of his life. His beloved sister.
"Forgive me… I must do this! There is no other way." Jaime pushed her by the neck, raising her body up over the barrier of the balcony. "I must save my son! Goodbye, Cersei… I loved you."
"N-ghoh!"
Cersei couldn't do anything.
All her schemes, her plans. All failed against the strength of a man. The thing that she despised so much. The thing that she disdained so much.
One thing she could never overpower.
"Goodbye."
Woosh!
Jaime finally released her neck.
Cersei tried to lunge back to hold the balcony barrier, but it was too late. She fell backward from the great height. In the dark, stormy night, the sound of waves drowned her scream. Before long, she vanished into the darkness below. Where she landed, and on which stone she died, all unknown.
Jaime couldn't take it anymore. His vision blurred from the tears. Frozen, he stared at his palms, and they looked bloody. After Kingslayer, he became a Kinslayer.
"I-I loved you, Cersei… I loved you with all my heart."
Clank!
Without thinking, he climbed the same barrier of the balcony and stood straight on it. No fear, no hesitation, only despair plagued him. He looked down, trying to search Cersei's body, but there was only darkness.
"Forgive me, Joffrey. I wasn't a good father to you… I wasn't a good knight to you… I…"
He raised one foot, and his mind went empty. No new thoughts, no new ideas, for his heart and mind already accepted death. Tomorrow, the next minute, the next second—none existed for the living corpse.
"Forgive me…"
Clack!
Suddenly the door opened behind him. He remained unaware.
Tap!
Tap!
The soft footsteps approached from behind, but Jaime didn't notice.
Not until the known, hoarse voice came.
"Taking the easy way out, brother?"
Comments
Miles Gwatidzo
I love all the sex scenes in this GoT Fanfic but MAAAN, l just desperately want to see Joffrey have downfall. Bro has done far too much wild sh$t for him to walk away Scot-free and face no consequences or bad karma. Bill always comes due.
Goxo
Both Val and Arya scenes were great, and that last part had me in on the edge of my seat when Tyrion came into the room. Side note: Would the dragons acting like bomber planes dropping wildfire be a cool scene to write? Well till next time Author, Godspeed.
Grey Jack
Well that was dark.
