Bab 67: Chapter 64 - The Heir, The Trojan & The Lion II
Melisandre halted instantly and stepped to the side of Joffrey's chair. In a practiced motion, she slid backward, landing her plump bottom on his lap. As the king supported her back with one arm, she leaned closer against his chest, her face close to the side of his cheek. She could feel the bump of his loins under her ass, so she wriggled herself a little to tuck it between her asscheeks.
Ah, all you red-haired whores. So obedient. Joffrey felt her warm body against himself. With the free hand, he captured her breasts instantly and squeezed them, pinching the tight, small nipples with the perfect, small, round areolas.
"Your Grace said this is merely the beginning?" Melisandre inquired as she began to kiss Joffrey's neck. She was permitted to do that much as long as she stayed away from the lips.
Joffrey continued to twist her mounds to his need as if toys for him to play with. "Tell your people in Tyrosh and Lys to start poisoning the pond. Once I have secured Highgarden, I will commence the expansion. Ensure that I encounter minimal resistance, but take care not to reveal your people's involvement in this."
"Ummh~" She stopped kissing and licking his earlobe. "This will be a grand victory to R'hllor."
"No doubt about that," Joffrey replied and stopped fondling her. "Start immediately."
Melisandre got the message and quickly left his lap. This time she made herself look proper and combed her hair with her fingers. Once sure of her looks, she nodded at the king and left the room quietly.
Joffrey sighed and pulled the chair closer to the table. He picked the quill and started writing immediately. For the first time he was experiencing such a large-scale war, and it surprised him how much preparation it took before even lifting the first sword.
But knowing that it all benefited him greatly in the end, all work felt like nothing. He spent hours at his solar before standing up and heading out. It was time for his daily training, one thing he really didn't want to stop anymore.
The only thing that truly scared him now was death.
"Oh, here goes my loyal, 'first female Knight'" Joffrey saw Arya walking past him in the hallway, her needle sword at her waist.
Arya sneered at him and looked away, hastening her footsteps.
Joffrey chuckled to himself and continued. Seeing Arya suddenly made him remember Catelyn and all those nights he spent fucking her. "I crave her taste for some reason… Ah, she must be lactating right now."
As the impression of Catelyn's ripe body with her full breasts appeared in his mind, he couldn't help but have some truly unholy thoughts. He thought of all three Stark women—bare and spread on one large bed side by side, on their backs, knees wide open, tits full of oozing nectar.
"Ugh." He scratched his crotch and fixed his rising erection. "Oh, I love being the King."
####
Winterfell.
"Aaaah!"
Catelyn Stark cried in pain on a cold night. Men of the Golden Legion kept the entire Winterfell castle tightly secured and under control. Not a single man without their permission could enter or leave. Calling it a fortress was a better word.
That night, the security was tighter. A lone midwife was brought in from outside.
A few hours later, that same night, Catelyn Stark gave birth. A healthy boy with hair the color of brown and red.
"Cregan… Cregan Stark." Catelyn proclaimed the name of the boy.
No matter the circumstances or the secrecy, she cherished the new life born to her. In her eyes, this meant House Stark was not yet finished. Even if she had to lie for that and claim him as Robb Stark's bastard.
Thud!
Right then, the Golden Legion commander entered the chamber and took the Midwife away. Her life was forfeited the moment she stepped into that castle. She just didn't know it. Joffrey was magnanimous, however, and at least awarded five Gold Dragons to the dead midwife's family.
Nothing was new. All those plans had been made the moment Joffrey planned to leave Winterfell on his last visit.
The king had no idea he had a new son. But his plans went according to his will, which was likely to bring him more joy.
The final nail had been hammered.
House Stark had a new owner.
Not the Wolf, not the Fish, it was the Lion hidden in the distant shadow.
####
Fleabottom, Kingslanding.
Clank!
A coin was tossed into the bowl of a man sitting at the side of the narrow street. Fleabottom was no longer filthy or smelly as it used to be. But it remained the dwelling of the poorest and the corrupt.
Amongst them, there was Edmure Tully. The Lord to be of Riverrun. His clothes were torn, his body dirty, and his hair a little longer. The spark was gone from his eyes as he begged for any coin that came his way.
"Get up."
Edmure looked up. "U-Uncle!"
Ser Brynden Tully glared at his nephew with a cold, disdainful smile. With a rough grip, he seized the man by the nape and lifted him off his feet. "Is this all you could manage? I asked you to survive whilst I sought the gold, and you chose to degrade yourself into a fucking beggar?"
Edmure almost cried. "I couldn't find work."
"Seven Hells." Ser Brynden tiredly sighed. "So that's it? The only talent you have is to go twenty thousand gold in debt fucking whores?"
"I-I have been wronged, Uncle. They entrapped me." Edmure pleaded his case. The same thing he had said the last time.
"You're still denying it? Did you not bed whores and drink expensive wine that night?"
"I-I did but-but I didn't know they were so expensive."
"Ah, you ignorant fool. All that matters is that you fucked and drank without a coin to your name. You've condemned House Tully and our forebears' legacy to ruin! Come with me now, we're going to the King to seek his aid. I couldn't gather that much gold."
"N-No!" Edmure tried to free himself from his Uncle's grip. "N-No! Please, we can't! The entire realm will find out if we go there!"
But Brynden continued to pull him. "You will stow that arrogance and grovel before him if need be, boy. I've exhausted all other means to save you. The war's end took with it our wealth, and I have no coin left to settle your debts."
"But I'm a Lord!"
"Should've thought that before shoving your cock in the city's most expensive whore."
####
As the many pieces moved as per Joffrey's plans, he kept himself busy with his duties.
A mere day away from beginning his march towards Highgarden, he poured himself into training his skills as much as he could. Of course, he didn't plan on fighting on the frontlines, but knowing how to defend was the most basic need.
But he was alone that day, silently swinging his sword and working on his footwork. Thanks to Cersei, he had never really trained with seriousness. A fault for which he was paying now.
"Your Grace."
Joffrey stopped abruptly and lowered his sword. Shirtless, sweating profusely, he looked towards the entrance to his private arena. A natural smile formed on his lips since he had invited her himself.
Why? I already feel drawn to her. He asked himself while sizing up the shapely, curvaceous woman with olive skin and thick black hair. Her long, figure-hugging regal gown left too much on display on her chest, and the deep cleavage was a valley he very much wanted to shove his face in.
"Lady Taena." Joffrey greeted her. "How have you been?"
The Myrish woman let out a throaty laugh and walked right into the open, round arena with a layer of sand on the ground. Showing her white teeth, she spoke with an accented voice that felt sultry on its own.
"Wonderful, Your Grace. I was eagerly waiting to see you again, so I might express my deepest gratitude for the exceptional care you afforded me during my stay."
She wants it. This will be too easy. Joffrey could see she was ready to let him have his way. Let's play a little first.
"I'm glad you like it," Joffrey said with a smug smile, running his fingers through his luxurious hair. "I'll be departing for Highgarden on the morrow, so I deemed it prudent to see you before I take my leave."
"How very considerate of you, Your Grace. I am most honored by your attention." Taena replied, locking her large dark eyes with his. Oh, how she could see the desire in his eyes whenever his gaze landed on her dark, full lips, or bellow at her prized mounds.
She knows. Joffrey wasn't blind to the hints. She wanted him to take the first step. But how could he as the King? A whore should know her place, after all.
"Do you know how to wield a sword, my Lady?" He asked.
Taena smiled brightly at that. "I do, but not this one, Your Grace."
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