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GOT: The Golden Lion

This story contains heavy lemon scenes. A LOT of lemon scenes. 50% plot and 50% lemon. ________________ None can battle against the gods; only accept all they may throw at you. Joffrey, a dying man a moment ago, now enlightened, watching the Battle of Blackwater Bay right before his eyes; a battle that had already been won, a battle that had already passed a year ago. But no more would he cower, for the knowledge he possesses gives him the tools to play the game like never before—Alliances, sacrifices, blood, betrayals, magic, love, lust, and a whole lot of sex awaits. But a ticking countdown Joffrey silently hears, foretelling the slow march of The Others to the land of the living with each passing moment. A Series by MrPlotThickens Aided by Ms.Squirtle

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87 Chs

Chapter 50 - Withering Flowers & Roaring Lions IV

"My lion," she purred, her voice a blend of silk and steel. "I'm fully aware of your splendid wife and the obligations that bind you to her. But do not, for a moment, forget the lonely mother who awaits your attention. Remember this; I'm the one who will always go to any lengths for you… anything you could ever need."

Joffrey's face turned to her all of a sudden. Does she mean what I think she means?

"I'll remember, Mother. Ah, look, the play is ending." Joffrey shifted into his seat abruptly and scared Cersei's hand away.

The team of midget entertainers finished their little play and bowed before the King.

Clap clap!

Joffrey started and the rest of the banquet followed. But then he followed through and raised his hand towards his beloved Kingsguard, Val, who stood behind him. The mighty woman quickly handed Joffrey seven small silky pouches.

"Splendidly entertaining, my little friends." Joffrey declared and got up from his seat. "Seven of you, come forth and collect your reward—Fifty Gold Dragons apiece!"

The team of seven dwarfs rushed up to Joffrey's table and orderly received the pouches into their little hands. No shaming, no naming, Joffrey maintains a regal smile on his face. From the side of his eyes, he noticed Tyrion's appreciation as well. He may be reprimanding Tyrion, but that didn't mean he was willing to gift him to the mother of dragons. If anything, he wanted more of Tyrion's loyalty.

I hope you'll like the gift I've prepared for you in the brothel tonight.

As he took his seat, the musicians began playing their tunes. It was time for the cake to be brought in. But the guests were also free to stand up and walk around to chat. He noticed a couple making their way to his table at that moment.

And for the first time in a long while, Joffrey found himself entranced by a lady's beauty. Who is she?

"Your Grace, congratulations on your newly married life." The woman leaned down at his table to so confidently extend the back of her hand towards Joffrey. But it was unclear if she wanted to greet the King or showcase her expansive cleavage between that shapely bosom.

Joffrey was taken aback for a moment. Not just him but his cock admired her—beautiful, curvaceous all around, tall, and with a bust that could make any man curious. She had olive skin, thick black hair, and large dark eyes. Her choice of dress was modest with a small cut near her upper thigh, which revealed her smooth, tanned long legs.

He finally kissed the back of her hand but didn't let her retrieve it as he continued to stare at her face. "You are…"

"Haha, forgive my lapse in etiquette, Your Grace. I am Taena Merryweather, wife to Lord Merryweather of Longtable in the Reach." She introduced herself.

I'm hard. Joffrey was surprised to feel such an effect from a woman. Her throaty laugh felt seductive, and her accent was exotic. "Myrish?"

Taena giggled and japed. "What gave it away?"

I want her. Joffrey made up his mind as he forced himself to look away from her dark, ripe lips. I'll need a new pet after Margaery.

He laughed at her joke and released her hand. "I'd love to know your tale."

"All it takes is some fine wine, Your Grace."

That's it. I want her in my bed. He didn't know if she was being this sultry on purpose or if it was just her nature. It didn't matter anymore.

"In that case, I have a few surprises for you," he flirted back.

As if Taena knew how to make men crave for her, she stepped away to leave. "I'll await your summon, my King."

Joffrey refused to avert his gaze from her heavenly curvy hips, wide and big, perfect for her height and size. How much he felt like tearing that gown apart and exploring her depths… Heck, he felt she even smelt different—exciting.

"You look exquisite, child…"

There she goes. Joffrey noticed Olenna approaching Sansa at last. He didn't look at her but kept his ears open. He listened to her praising Sansa for being strong and beautiful and blessed the little baby girl in her arms. This… This bitch killed me once.

All of a sudden the heaviness of the moment settled into his heart. This was it, the moment where it all began. This was when he died and was revived back in time. If he were to fail yet again, he didn't even want to think of such shame.

"Your Grace," Margaery interrupted his thoughts.

Joffrey looked at his wife and found her less ravishing all of a sudden. The lack of flesh on her chest no longer felt acceptable. It doesn't matter now. I've had my fill with her.

"We should pay Prince Oberyn a visit after the feast," Margaery suggested, her words loud enough for Cersei to hear them. "He came to celebrate our union, and yet cruel fate turned its face upon him."

"Let's do that." Joffrey agreed right away, trying his best to ignore the rising turmoil in his mind. But just then the cake was brought before him.

When? When will she make a fucking move?

Without a word, he unsheathed his sword and walked over to the cake. So many thoughts went on in his head that he failed to control his strength.

Bam!

He sliced the cake, but also some of the table it was on. Thankfully the pigeons hidden inside weren't harmed and flew away in a spectacle, earning him the claps and cheers of those nearby.

Is it in? He looked at his wine goblet on the table, curious when the poison would be added.

Very soon the cake was brought to him on a small plate. It was Margaery who took it and scooped a spoonful to feed him. That raised alarms in his head right away.

Is this it?

"Your first, my beautiful queen." Joffrey took the spoon from her and turned the same scooped cake around. But to his utter surprise, she smilingly ate it. "How is it?"

"As sweet as you, my love," she proclaimed and fed him this time.

Seven, bless your pawn. Joffrey took the bite and swallowed it without even chewing it once.

Cough!

He didn't feel anything in his throat, but he tried to mimic his last death.

But instead of asking for the wine, he returned to the table and sat down. The celebrations continued from there as everyone got busy eating.

Is this it? He glanced at the full goblet of wine before him.

Carefully, he dipped his finger in it as if he were trying to pick it up. Then, to 'scratch' himself, he put that hand into his tunic where the little bird prepared by Melisandre was sitting silently.

Taste it. He felt the bird tapping its small beak on his finger. Just a moment later, it stopped moving. He still felt confused and looked towards the backside of the visitor's seat where Melisandre was sitting. Although subtle, he noticed her head nodding in his direction.

He felt dry in his throat right away. So dry that even gulping the blob of his spit felt impossible. His heart raced and his pulse went wild. Right before him was the glass that ended it all for him, and in a way, where everything new started.

This is it… This is the poison.

With care, he gripped the goblet of wine and raised it towards his lips. He could feel there was a piercing gaze on him.

"Ah!" He stopped midway and looked at Margaery. "My lovely queen, will you kiss the wine first to make it sweeter for me?"

"K-Kiss?" Margaery stammered for no reason.

She knows. Meeting Oberyn? What a performance—smirking whore.

He could feel his blood starting to boil.

"Why not? Like the cake, the first one to taste should be you. It makes everything sweeter, my love." He cringed at his necessary words.

His hands rose towards Margeary's lips. The horror in her eyes was visible to Joffrey, and he loved every bit of it. Soon enough Margaery gripped his hand by the wrist as if to guide him. But he felt it, she just tried to topple the goblet over. But he was far too strong now for her to move.

"There you go," The goblet finally reached her lips and almost touched. "Make it as sweet as our lo—"

"STOP!"

Joffrey smiled wide at the loud roar of Olenna Tyrell. He looked at Margaery, her eyes were brimming with tears.

Then he looked back at Olenna and smiled even brighter.

Got you! You old bitch!

______________________

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