GOT: The Golden Lion

It felt like a dream.

It felt like an impossible possibility.

Daenerys Targaryen felt as if the air was frozen in her chest. In silence, she stared at her man raising his sword high and commanding the men until they knelt at the mere sight of him. She watched as her man pulled her along into the Great Sept of Baelor. She watched as her man commanded the Septon to prepare for their marriage vows.

No doubt raised. No hesitation shown. She felt desired in ways she didn't know were possible. She felt possessed by someone else as if her life wasn't just hers anymore. That feeling was new and heartwarming. Something she felt neither with her own brother nor with Drogo, whom she had foolishly come to believe she loved—a mere ailment of mind.

Still in those barbarian clothes, she stood before Joffrey, face to face staring at him. She held onto his hand and listened to the High Septon guiding them through the vows.

"Make it quick," Joffrey warned the High Septon.

The old, fat man quickly started blurting, "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby see you these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words. Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger…"

"I am…" High Septon looked at Daenerys.

She locked her eyes with Joffrey's. "His and he's mine, from this day, till the end of my days."

High Septon then looked at Joffrey. "I am…"

"I'm hers and she's mine, from this day, till the end of my days."

Finally, Joffrey stepped closer to her and wrapped one arm around her slender waist. He pulled her in and lowered his face, his lips waiting to pluck hers. "With this kiss, I pledge my love…"

And with that, Daenerys felt her lover… her husband land a gentle kiss, soft as velvet against her own, warm and loving without any hint of indecency reserved for bedchambers. She felt respected, loved, and finally… not alone.

"Ummm…" Daenerys kissed him back by rising on her toes. She made it a little deeper, yet held back from sliding her tongue between his lips.

She lusted for more. She hungered to 'consummate' her marriage again, despite already being with his babe. She still wanted to feel that first night with her husband.

"Shall we?" Joffrey extended his arm towards her. "We should enter the Red Keep."

Daenerys took it warmly, her lips curved in a big smile.

Feeling content, she followed her husband out of the Great Sept of Baelor.

This was what she wanted.

This was what she needed.

####

Joffrey Baratheon felt content with everything he had achieved. As he stared at his completely surrendered new wife, and the eyes of adoration among the City Watch, smallfolk, and Kingsguards—he felt proud of himself.

The game of thrones was going well and it was finally back on track. After the fuck-up that Margaery had gifted him, this moment felt like his true step toward the final victory. He didn't know if he was going to survive the Fire God's wrath, but he knew if he did, he'd have everything he desired.

Women, wealth, and power.

"Your Grace." Ser Jaime knelt like a loyal knight and gestured towards the stagecoach prepared at the base of the stairs. "Welcome back to King's Landing."

"Uncle…" Joffrey made Jaime stand up and gave him a hug. But it wasn't his affection, but rather his intention to whisper something in his ear. "Thank you, uncle. I know you did what you did for all of us"

He felt Jaime stiffen in his embrace. It made Joffrey slightly amused. He finally had yet another tool to toy Jaime with.

How was it murdering your own sister-lover? I hope you suffered, Jaime. I hope it hurt… you sister fucker.

Joffrey, for no reason, felt blatant hatred towards Jaime. Although, he still saw him as a useful pawn. Perhaps, there was something broken inside him. Joffrey knew long ago that he saw every living creature around him as a pawn. All people were ranked by their usefulness.

One day, you will suffer the same fate, Uncle.

"It's good to be back, Ser Jaime. But matters are awaiting my attention, and I cannot waste time excursing the streets." Joffrey put an arm around his beautiful, silver-haired trophy, which came with a mighty dragon. "I shall take the dragon with my wife."

And that was exactly what he did. Right in front of all the eyes, Joffrey sat down behind Daenerys, holding her frame so passionately that it was impossible to think that Joffrey wasn't in control. His larger frame made him seem the owner of the woman as well as the steed.

Woosh!

And with that, the dragon soared towards the Red Keep, drawing a massive shadow over the small homes and the smallfolk. Most gawked in awe, and some revealed fright. There was no man alive in Westeros who had seen dragons of the old.

Well, there was one. But Joffrey didn't deem him worthy of drawing any more breaths.

Merely a few moments later, the dragon landed in an open back garden of the Red Keep. A small feast was prepared for it, made of sheep and goats. Meanwhile, Joffrey led Daenerys into the castle.

However, his steps were measured and his face was not as pleased. He noticed there were men and women in the middle of decorating the castle and cleaning every corner of it. This was not a common occurrence and was only reserved for grand occasions.

He made his way towards the Great Hall. There were even more servants on the way doing their things. But he noticed a few were changing the banners fluttering on the walls. It was his banner that was being removed.

"No, they didn't! Those bloody traitors!" Joffrey snapped, his voice sharp with fury as he clenched Daenerys' hand tighter and yanked her along.

He stormed into the throne room and found multiple minor nobles gathered there. The King's throne was empty but Tywin was present there on the side, standing.

The old lion finally shows his ambitions. Joffrey glared at his grandfather, looking so proud of himself.

"Looking for a new king, are you Grandfather?"

"The realm was, but that seems no longer necessary, Your Grace," Tywin replied solemnly and walked towards Joffrey. "We are delighted to have you back."

Joffrey noticed his grandfather's eyes staring at Daenerys the whole time. How could he not when his new wife was murdering him a thousand times with her mere purple eyes? Her face was twisted in anger and hate.

You'll have to be my sacrificial pawn, Grandfather. Joffrey decided it right then and there. He already planned on killing Tywin, but now he had a good reason. However, he didn't want to just gift the old lion's head to her. No, he wanted her to desire it desperately, and then he'd so 'graciously' give it to her for something in return.

"I'll overlook this insolence—for now. Plotting to crown another king before I've even fallen? It's disgraceful. But I have no patience for the dull and ordinary. I'm here for what Jon Snow has sent from the North. Summon the Small Council, Grandfather."

Without even addressing the crowd, Joffrey pulled Daenerys along and took her to his bedchamber. Since they were now married, he saw no need to give her another room. Besides, he felt she wanted it too. Not to mention, they needed a change of clothes.

Something less barbaric.

####

For Sansa Stark, the events that unfolded were no less than falling off a cliff only to be saved and then falling down again. At first, she heard that her husband had died. Then she heard he had returned, only to wed another woman.

She thought she'd be Joffrey's first wife. She thought she'd be his only true queen. She was aware of Joffrey's helplessness, but she still dreamt of a grand marriage with the father of her daughter. Joanna had already begun to speak, even.

"H-How could he…"

"You knew it all along." Taena of Myr, who had kept Sansa company as per Joffrey's command, spoke like a close friend, every word laced with intent. "Joffrey is a man of wild conquests and immeasurable future. He's a King who comes once every century. You knew it, Sansa, but you chose not to see it. Don't be saddened but be delighted for he now has no obstacle holding him back. Targaryen dragons were a threat to him, you, and your daughter, but now that Targaryen woman can be your sister—The Seven have blessed you."

Sansa looked at her close friend, too close by normal standards. The turmoil in her heart couldn't be solved that easily. She was already aware of Joffrey's plans to a degree. Even Arya had told her not to expect to be the first wife.

Yet, despite her best attempts, it stung her to see that dragon land while she stood on the balcony. It stung her to see how her husband caught the white-haired woman by the waist and let her down gently. It hurt her to see how Joffrey touched her belly, a clear sign of what grew inside.

"But… The realm will—"

"Roar in admiration and adoration? Tell me, Sansa, who was the last King to conquer new lands? Who was the last King to cross the sea and win over people? Who was the last King to have two wives and dragons?"

"A-Aegon…"

Taena giggled and softly rubbed Sansa's face with her hands. "My sweet Sansa, open your eyes and see the truth laid bare. Your name will be etched into the annals of history, whispered by tongues yet unborn. You are one of the three heads of the dragon with a lion's tail—You have given him his first heir, and no power in this realm can unmake that claim."

Sansa nervously nodded. "W-What should I do now?"

"Nothing at all, my sweet. Simply wait. If His Grace seeks you out, speaks with you, takes you to his bed, and shares his secrets, then you have his heart. And if that is so, there is no cause for fear."

Relaxed brows, her breath calming, Sansa nodded gently and looked down at nothing.

"I-I'll do that…"

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