"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."
______________________
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