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Slapping the newest issue of The Daily Prophet onto the table, Lux gave his two beautiful witches a glare as his women put on the most innocent façade they could muster—he wasn't going to believe it for a second.
"It was all her fault," Rose finally broke under his judgmental silence, pointing at Bella like the indignant little girl she often was. "I only had to fight the goblins because they were after this bitch," she further explained.
Looking to the accused, his ever-loyal baby mama didn't bother arguing, falling to her knees and crawling to his feet before nuzzling her pretty face against his covered crotch. "Please, Master, punish this disobedient slave."
"Do you really expect me to believe that destroying the place with their own dragons was your only option?" Lux questioned the squirming redhead, ignoring Bella's ministrations and his growing bulge for the moment.
"I only let one go. How was I supposed to know he'd set his friends free?" Rose argued, continuing to make excuses while Lux barely paid attention, plump lips and a lithe tongue tracing the defined veins along his shaft.
It seemed Bella had tired of working her magic through the light fabric of his trousers, his manhood now exposed in its full glory. And it seemed Rose finally noticed his current state after pausing mid ramble, sending a scowl down at his hard-working slave.
"Tch, fine, I'll go do my own thing. I bet you weren't even listening to anything I've been saying," Rose bitched, heading for the manor's upper floors.
"You'll stay," Lux told her, the fiery brat likely about to spit out another complaint. "Look at Bella here. She's already begun making up for her wrongdoings. As the primary offender, don't you think some of the responsibility should fall on your shoulder?" He asked, cutting her off before she could get her retort in.
"As if I'd join in with her," Rose scoffed, making him smile—it'd been a while since he'd had the opportunity to put the girl back in her place, something he always enjoyed whenever that time came around.
"Let me put it this way, my dear. Get on your knees. And that's not a request," he commanded, stroking his slave's hair as she took his tip into her lovely mouth.
"hmph… fine, have it your way." Rose snorted, still following his command after giving her usual sass.
"That's a good girl," he told her, receiving a glare in return, but with half of his sack in the girl's mouth, the effect was lost on him.
"You know, if I don't put an end to both of your incessant squabbles, I'm sure that one day you'll end up making a mistake I won't be so easily forgiving of," he told them, his slave giving him those puppy dog eyes that almost had him breaking character. "Luckily, I have an idea on how to fix this issue."
"What is it, Master?" Bella asked, switching to stroking his saliva slicked cock with her hand while she talked.
"In my opinion, it's quite simple. The two of you will overwrite any hatred towards each other with pleasure," he grinned at Rose, the girl seeming to have an idea of where this was going. "Now start with a hug and kiss," he told them, not breaking the stare with the disobedient redhead, daring her not to follow his command with a look.
Of course, Bella had no problem at all with this arrangement, the beautiful psychopath knowing full well that Rose wouldn't be enjoying this—well, at least not for the beginning parts, he figured.
"By the way, where the hell are we anyway?" Lux finally got around to asking.
After leaving the chaos-ridden alley, he'd simply followed the connection he had with his two witches, finding himself in the foyer of a pretty swanky abode that he hadn't bothered questioning until now.
"Mmnn, it's one of the Black family's manors, Master. I was gifted it before my marriage," Bella told him as he nodded along, his mature beauty returning her lips to Rose's soft flesh after answering his question, the younger witch grimacing at her touch.
"Good, we can break the place in, because we won't be leaving here until you two are the best of friends," Lux said, his hand finding its way under Bella's dress, fondling those juicy cheeks.
~A New God's Conquest
Walking through the white and gold palace halls, Kevan couldn't remember ever feeling so small—not even as a child.
But it wasn't simply the grand architecture boggling his mind that had him feeling this way. No, that was only part of it. From the moment they'd sailed into the western passage of the North's canal, Kevan had thought himself in some sort of feverish dream, sights he could only attribute to magic unnerving him to the bone. Because of this, as he and his party followed the palace's guards through the seemingly never-ending passages, Kevan couldn't help but go over in his head the journey that had gotten him into this mess.
He'd not entirely believed the claims that his brother's informants made, but his first inclination that something might be amiss was the constant tailwind through the large passage, the trade galley his group occupied setting a pace he thought impossible.
Now, this alone could have been explained by stronger winds of the wintery North. But what couldn't be were the vessels matching their speeds yet sailing in the opposite direction.
And as he'd mentioned, this had only been the first sign. Because, as odd as this was, he'd heard of far stranger phenomena in the lands to the east. But the moment Kevan laid eyes on the capital city, any doubts regarding King Tenebris's mystical nature immediately vanished.
After all, what else but magic could explain the sight before him—ships grander than he'd ever heard of soaring through the air or docked atop towering spires, the fantastical image still there even after a good slap across his face, confirming he was truly awake.
It was utterly ridiculous, Kevan thought, now sure that there was no option other than kneeling before this new power. In fact, he highly doubted that even Valyria, at the height of its supremacy, would stand a chance.
So enamored with the view and the implications that came along was he, that before Kevan even knew it, they were already moored, his guards and the few servants he had brought along already unloading their belongings.
"My lord, preparations are near completion... only," a servant informed him, the meek young man hesitating while nervously averting his gaze for some reason.
"Out with it, boy," Kevan insisted, not in the mood to deal with this nonsense when he had more significant troubles to worry about.
"It… It's just that it seems that there has been no escort nor delegation prepared for our arrival, my lord," the man squeaked out, making his brow furrow.
He hadn't been expecting a warm welcome, but this level of disrespect was quite extraordinary, a sign that he wasn't likely to be taken very seriously in these negotiations.
That, or it was simply a ploy to put him on edge. But given who he was dealing with, he'd assume the former. Because in all honesty, it didn't seem like there would be much that the Lannisters had to offer.
"Very well, continue with your tasks," he waved the lad off, watching as he let out a relieved breath before scampering away.
But now that Kevan thought back on that small annoyance, he couldn't deny the fact that he was left in awe after they'd explored the city on their own—of course, he wasn't going to admit to that once-finally meeting with the ruler of this place.
Luckily, that time seemed to be arriving, the soldiers halting his group's procession in front of a grand pair of doors, each seemingly made of solid white gold—just another show that their house's wealth would mean nothing to this king.
Depressing reflections aside, it was about time, Kevan thought. Why was the throne room so far from the entrance in the first place?
"You stand in the presence of Val Death-Axe, of House Tenebris, Queen of the North and the lands beyond, The Destroyer, The Feller, The Winter Rose," a crier announced as they entered, Kevan and his group pausing at the many titles they'd never heard of.
Glaring at one of his men-at-arms, who looked to be dazed by the beautiful fur-clad woman seated upon her raised throne, the man finally got a hold of his senses, awkwardly clearing his throat before finally understanding his duty.
"This is Kevin Lannister. He's the Lord Paramount's brother," the imbecile introduced, and Kevan would be sure to have a word in private with the man once they were done here.
"Tell me, Lannister, what brings you to my fair city this day?" The queen boredly asked, and he could only hold his tongue at the indifference shown towards his lordly self.
"I was under the impression that I'd been expected and would be negotiating with King Tenebris on behalf of my house," Kevan deadpanned, still more than a little miffed that he'd not been greeted upon his arrival.
His eye twitching, he watched in suppressed irritation, the queen thoughtfully humming to herself for what felt like minutes until finally slapping a closed fist onto her open palm. "Ah, yes, I remember hearing something about that," she agreed, and Kevan was nearly certain he was being played with at this point—but what could he even do about it?
"My husband has other duties occupying his time these days; you'll just have to deal with me. But worry not, my word holds equal weight as my beloved," the queen drawled, making Kevan hide a grimace. He could only hope that her claim was the truth.
"Very well, if that's the case, I'd ask to see my niece. Our entire family has been worried of her health," he began, figuring he could at least pretend that his brother cared about his daughter's wellbeing.
"Of course, and I assure you that all our hostages have been treated with the utmost care," the queen told him before calling out something, the words not making any sense to him.
"What is the meaning of this, you abominable creature?" Kevan gaped, his niece somehow appearing out of thin air, her belligerent cursing the only thing bringing him back to reality.
"Uncle?!" her voice rose, now noticing the extra company as she tried straightening her only half-brushed hair. "Finally, it was about time someone retrieved me from these barbarians," Cersei continued, sending a glare at the leisurely seated queen, his heart dropping at the vile words his niece spat.
"You have no idea the terrible treatment I've gone through in this hell hole. What took Father so long? And where is Jamie?" The stupid child continued her ranting, a vein in his forehead feeling like it was about to burst.
"Enough, Cersei!" Kevan growled. The gall of this girl. Could she not understand the situation?
And besides, he could guess that this mistreatment she mentioned was likely something as asinine as not being served the particular vintage she enjoyed.
"I am the queen; how dare you!" She screeched, and never had Kevan desired to strike a woman more than in this moment.
"Ignorant girl, I said enough!" He roared, forgetting the queen's presence before hearing a tinkling laughter coming from the throne, his face going pale as he remembered where he was.
"Forgive me for my outburst, Your Grace," he gave a shallow bow, worried he'd ruin any chance of his house surviving the future that this queen and her king would bring to the Seven Kingdoms.
"No need for apologies; I've already become quite accustomed to your kin's personality. Trust me when I say that I understand how capable she is at bringing out the worst of a person," the queen waved off as he let out a relieved breath. "Leaf, be a dear, and silence the wench," she said, and Kevan noticed her giving a wink to the small thing who'd brought his niece into the room, its tiny hand waving at Cersei before she could further embarrass their house, her lips moving, yet no sound reaching his ears.
"Now that that's taken care of, what do you say we get down to business?" The queen smiled, the beautiful sight making his retinue at the side gulp, the lads trying their damnedest not to become drooling messes in front of a powerful monarch.
"Yeah, that would be most agreeable," Kevan nodded, adjusting his collar, not wanting to fall to the level of his men. "My brother wishes for an alliance; we have little faith that King Robert will lead us anywhere other than ruin," he explained, hoping this would work while watching the queen tilt her head from side to side.
"An alliance wouldn't be out of the question. The only question is, What do you have to offer?" she asked, and Kevan was happy to note that it wasn't in a condescending tone. Perhaps an agreement could be reached after all.
"While I wouldn't be so bold as to offer wealth, our branch families have a few comely girls of marriageable age," he said, hoping that offering another woman for her husband's harem wouldn't get him executed on the spot.
"I can assure you that my king has no interest in a member of a branch family," she told him after thinking, and while it was a slight disappointment, he was simply happy that she seemed not to be angered by his words. "But your niece over here is a different story. Somehow, she's managed to catch the eye of my love."
And wasn't that a surprise. Kevan couldn't help but ponder over the thought. He also wondered if his brother had known this would be the case. After all, he'd already given his permission to use his daughter's hand in these negotiations.
"While further discussion is required, I can guarantee you that my brother would be amenable to this. Of course, her current husband would have to be dealt with first," Kevan agreed, trying not to show his eagerness to pawn off his niece and ignoring the girl in question, frantically shaking her head in the corner of his eye.
"Trust me, that drunken king of yours won't be a problem much longer. Whether by my husband's hand or my own, his death is an inevitability," the queen said, her vicious grin sending shivers down his spine and raising the hairs on the back of his neck.
"Wonderful, would you like to get into the details now or at a later date?" He asked, trying not to show the fear he felt towards the woman's bloodlust, ignoring Cersei's desperate pounding on an unseen wall.
"We'll talk later. For now, my servants will show you and your companions to the guest quarters," the queen decided, and as he took his leave, Kevan couldn't believe how well that all went.
~A New God's Conquest~
Leaving the throne room and heading to the training yard, Val smiled to herself, happy after securing her beloved another woman—as such a powerful specimen of a man, he deserved only the best.
And speaking of matchmaking, Val chuckled after finding out what her adorable daughter had gotten up to in her absence.
"Ride, my mighty steed!" Astrid cried, the steed that was young Jae miserably crawling along the dusty floor as her daughter battled an invisible foe.
Val found it cute how attached Astrid had become to Lyanna's son, but more than that, she found the idea of using this development to seat her daughter on the Iron Throne even better.
As for the prince's thoughts on the matter? Well, she'd just have to make sure that her daughter was strong enough to steal him when the time came.
But before any of that, the hardest thing she'd have to do was talk her daughter's overprotective father into not killing the lad, a task that would be more than worth it if it meant seeing her precious child as the ruler of Westeros, and perhaps beyond.
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