GOT: The Golden Lion

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Joffrey didn't know that the woman he'd invested so little in would pay him back so significantly. All he had asked of Taena was to prepare Sansa to hopefully share a bed alongside her sister.

But uncaring of those matters, for now, he walked with Daenerys to the Small Council room. He had changed into a regal attire suitable for the King, and his wife wore something matching his attire—an ample amount of gold with hints of white.

"Are you sure about this? They might protest having me in there."

Joffrey sneered and pulled her closer by her waist and continued to walk. "I'd be dead without full control over my Small Council. They know their worth to me, and they won't dare rise above it. Their fortunes are tied to mine—except for the few fools who forget that."

Daenerys hummed and looked at his taller frame, directly at his face. "Will you… show me around the Red Keep after this?"

"I would love to… after consummating our marriage," Joffrey teasingly replied. "The first night is still awaiting us."

"I believe we have long since passed that, my husband… far beyond it."

"Past fucking? I dare say, Daenerys, not sliding in your flower every moment of the day is a sin I wish I wasn't commitin—"

Pa!

She playfully slapped on his shoulder, a blush on her face. "Shh… Walls have ears."

"Then let's deafen them with your moans."

"You…"

Joffrey loved teasing her because he had noticed it. She seemed to love it whenever he acted playful, lustful towards her, and in general like a man in love. It was understandable, which wife wouldn't love it if her husband was head over heels for her?

"Very well, let's get serious then." Joffrey stopped teasing her as they approached the Small Council chamber. The Kingsguard standing outside there saluted him and opened the door.

"Your Grace." The members of the council sprang up to their feet. There was newfound respect and fear visible in their eyes.

Joffrey, ignoring the members, walked over to his seat and glared at Tywin whose seat was to his left. He didn't ask Tyrion to move since he was the Hand, and Tywin was a temporary member from the beginning.

"Grandfather, since I have returned, I shall take the position of the Master of War and lead the charge," Joffrey declared. "Send ravens across Westeros—all of it. Every Lord and Lady with a castle or an army to their name is to come to King's Landing by the end of next month. This is no request; it's an order. If they refuse to stand with us now, then they've no place in Westeros at all."

Tywin froze for a moment, his face appearing conflicted. But the next moment, the old man stood up and left the room. It was no longer a secret that the King was displeased by Tywin's attempt to install Tommen as the King that quickly.

Finally, Joffrey let Daenerys take the seat beside him and focused back on the Council. He nodded at Tyrion to his right to start the meeting.

"Ah, quite the day, isn't it? Dragons soaring above, and now one at our side. I must admit, Your Grace, I never imagined you could wield fire as well," Tyrion muttered and got to the point. "I'm sure Your Grace-s would want to know about the North. We've received the box. And I've seen the... abomination with my own eyes. As for Jon Snow, well, he didn't make it."

"Oh, such a tragedy," Joffrey lazily blurted, clearly showing his lack of concern about the death. "Regardless, who brought the Wraith and where is it?"

"Oh, of course, it was Jon Snow's woman who brought it here, fulfilling her dear lover's dying wish. How terribly romantic. And the Wraith? Locked up in the dungeon, naturally. Guarded at all times."

Joffrey hummed and stood up suddenly. He had no desire to see the Wraith since he already knew White Walkers existed as a matter of fact. No, his goal was right inside that room. Since the beginning, he only desired to keep the loyalists around him.

While at times he had to hold himself back from weeding out traitors, he no longer felt the need to hold himself back.

"I've noticed, Uncle, that the activity at the port has increased. I must admit, you've done well—finally, the city looks like a King's dwelling, not some beggar's slum. But still, you've failed to rid it of the rats." Joffrey grabbed his sword from the table, unsheathing it with a sharp motion. Its Valyrian steel gleamed under the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Don't you realize? A single rat can bring a plague that destroys generations."

Heads turned as Joffrey began walking around the table. Lord Redwayne sweated, Sandor Clegane didn't even flinch, and Tyrion looked around with interest. The new, temporary Maester Qyburn didn't seem interested.

Despite the varying reactions, the air inside the Small Council chamber turned thick with confusion and fear. The suddenness of the situation made it all the more scary to them. None of them knew who was at fault and why they were being interrogated.

"It seems I'll have to sully my hands," Joffrey added and stood behind Varys' chair. "More than traitors, I hate opportunist bastards who hold no allegiance… Isn't that right, Varys? Must have been great to spy for both me and Daenerys at the same time. I guess your old master should have cut more than just your balls—Let's fix that."

"Y-Your Grace, I have been loya—" Varys stammered at the abrupt accusation and tried to look behind. But then he noticed Daenerys' cold gaze and he froze in shock.

Woosh!

"Aaargh…!"

Joffrey slammed his sword from the back of the chair and pierced it straight through Varys' heart. The blade of his sword exploded through the chest and protruded from the front.

Lord Redwyne jumped to his feet in shock, Tyrion too, not having expected such swift execution in the chamber. Only Sandor Clegane remained in his seat, too used to seeing blood.

Blood oozed from Varys' lips, shock registered on his face. Death came so suddenly. No spies, and no calculations could have prepared him for the sudden retaliation.

Why?

Why was it all ending like this?

Varys couldn't find an answer as his life faded away.

"Varys and Illyrio have been friends since childhood." Joffrey looked at Daenerys as he returned to the seat. "Illyrio took you in, not out of kindness, but to push Viserys into selling you off to a Dothraki brute. Meanwhile, Varys ran to Robert, whispering secrets—your location, your state—every sordid detail. A pair of slithering rats, sowing chaos and daring to call it peace."

Joffrey seriously had no idea what Varys' true game was. That was precisely why he had to be killed. The man was a wild card that he didn't want to face.

"That…" Tyrion muttered softly. "Reasonable, but who will be our spymaster now?"

"I have one already," Joffrey replied and looked outside the window. "I'll speak with the new spymaster soon. Uncle, ready the ravens with Grandfather to summon the lords and ladies here. Tomorrow, I'll see the Wraith, alongside Daenerys."

"I'll get to it."

Quickly, the Small Council chamber emptied, leaving Joffrey and Daenerys alone with Varys' dead body. The scent of blood was thick in the room.

"So it was a game for them all along," Daenerys murmured annoyedly, glaring at Varys' dead body.

"Believe it or not, Daenerys, it's all a game. Some claw for the throne, others scrape to stay near it. But those who dare to play against us—they don't get to live."

Daenerys hummed and grabbed Joffrey's hand. "The more I see through your eyes, the clearer it becomes why I faltered in Slaver's Bay. I was too... unyielding to the realities before me."

"Well, now you have me." Joffrey pulled her closer, maintaining the guise of a perfect husband. "Let's go now, I'll show you the Red Keep. I'm sure you'd want to see the skulls in the cellars."

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Joffrey parted with Daenerys after showing her the Red Keep. Knowing he'd have plenty of time with her that night, he headed out under disguise and visited Chataya's brothel using the secret tunnel.

He appeared right inside the top room and found Chataya waiting for him, draped in luxurious silk that clung to her dark figure like its life depended on it. Her charming smile and her mature face were a sight of men's dreams.

But Joffrey had no plans to bed her that day.

"Perhaps this will be the last time we meet in the shadows," Joffrey said, brushing the dust from his tunic as he rose. His sharp gaze fixed on the towering Summer Islander. "Varys is dead, and I find myself in need of a new Master of Whisperers. Tell me—how far has our little endeavor traveled?"

Chataya welcomed the King to a seat and poured him wine, sitting closer to his side and caressing his thigh. "Westeros is in our grasp, but Essos is challenging."

"I'll allow the Red Priestesses to serve us, but don't rely on them too much. They're tools, nothing more," Joffrey commanded sharply, leaning back as she stroked his leg, a gesture he indulged. "Once Daenerys departs, come to the Red Keep. I'll name you my new Master of Whisperers."

"I will make the preparations." Chataya nodded and filled his goblet of wine again. "And the wolf girl? She awaits in another chamber."

"Sansa? Here?" Joffrey exclaimed. "When did she come here?"

"An hour ago. She sought me out because of our… alliance. She knows I hold the means to reach you."

Joffrey sighed inside, knowing how anxious Sansa must be. I was wary of meeting her with Daenerys in the Red Keep. But if she's here…

"Take me to Sansa."

Quickly, he followed Chataya downstairs and walked towards her private residence curtained away from the common visitor's area. So, without being seen, he walked towards the luxurious private chamber.

"I shall leave you to your discussion, Your Grace," Chataya said softly, her gaze lingering for a moment before she turned to go. "If there is anything you require, do not hesitate to call upon me."

Joffrey watched her sway her hips as she left. I'm blessed with fine women in this life.

Alone, he opened the door and entered the room. Right away his eyes caught the movement inside. A figure that jumped to stand up, adorned in a beautiful red gown, sleeveless, tight around her waist with a bodice, her hair tied in braids and a bun behind, eyes as blue and shining as ever. Her tall frame had flesh from her previous pregnancy, her breasts remained slightly swollen and her hips ready to birth another.

"Oh, how I've longed for you, my beautiful Sansa!" Joffrey shouted, striding toward her with force. Without giving her a chance to react, he seized her waist and lifted her off the ground. "I thought I'd never see you again. I thought I would perish out there, surrounded by those animals."

It was an act. Everything was an act. He did hold a level of desire and love towards his women. But at the end of the day, everything else remained an act. He was certainly good at it since he felt Sansa's palpitating heartbeat.

"Joff…"

Joffrey hugged her tightly, almost pulling her up entirely off the ground. Then, he lowered her gently, his "loving" gaze lingering on her confused expression as he held her face between his hands. Without giving her a chance to say more, he kissed her roughly, waiting for her to react and melt in his palm.

Sansa was internally bewildered, she came to confront him and question him thoroughly. But the moment she felt the warmth of his lips, all the thin ice that shrouded her heart started to melt. She missed him so much, his care, his affection, the lingering heat of his warm body.

Joffrey soon felt her give in, parting her lips for him, allowing him to slide his tongue in. His hands slid down her frame and wrapped around her supple hips. He greedily felt her soft flesh, while reveling in the way she welcomed his kiss now. Truth be told, he found her naivety somewhat adorable.

Like an eager little lamb, Sansa took in his invading tongue, suckling on his lips as her own hands pulled him closer to her body. Beyond her worries, beyond the surface jealousy, the thought of being unwanted by her King scared her more than anything else. She wanted to melt into him, forever inseparable.

Finally, Joffrey broke away from the kiss and held her face in his hands once again.

"I know, my love. I know that you have many questions. I'll answer everything." Joffrey pulled her with him towards the canopied bed and made her sit beside him. "I must have hurt you so much…"

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