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The North Forgot	By : ArizonaIceT Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 83465 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
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Chapter List
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After unforeseeable delays, The day had finally come; The King, with his newly appointed Hand, were to make the trek back to King’s Landing.

Arya made no attempts to hide her giddiness. This is what she had been waiting for, for weeks. She was of course sad about what happened to her brother, but he was the only thing that kept them from leaving 2 weeks ago. King Robert wouldn’t accept any more delays, and pushed ahead with the return. Arya was also saddened that her mother would stay behind. She could only imagine the burden on her shoulders. She went to bid her goodbye, and bid goodbye to Bran as well. When she arrived at his room, to her surprise, the Mountain was the guard on duty. The humongous man spared her a slight glance, and a stiff nod, but otherwise said nothing. Her mother was as expected; looking sorrowfully over Bran, though Arya noticed a slight glimmer in her eyes as she looked at The Mountain when he opened the bedroom door. Strange, she thought.

Her mother bid her a teary farewell, though she expected the tears were there before. She told her to mind her manners, and to be of service to the Lannisters if needed.

‘If only you knew the services I provide.’ Arya thought a bit lewdly, thinking of how she had sucked Joffrey’s cock, not 30 minutes before.

Joffrey. The Southern Prince she was completely smittens with.

Day 1:

The King’s caravan left in the early hours of the day, to make the most of the light. Her father hadn’t allowed Arya to ride her own horse on the journey, saying it ‘wasn’t safe for a young lady to be out in the open’. What bollocks; Arya was a great rider, and she wasn’t afraid of any one. Besides, no one would dare try something stupid while the Lannister men were around. Regardless, she was forced to ride in a carriage with her sister and Jeyene Poole. She had to suffer them prattling on about nothing, and Sansa saying how excited she is to spend time with Joffrey; Arya smirked slightly at that.

‘If only she knew.’

The caravan rode for about 10 hours before they stopped and made camp, days were growing shorter now that the summer was leaving. Arya was given her own large tent to sleep; Ned wanted her to share with Sansa, but the eldest Stark girl made such a stink of it, that he relented and gave each their own. Arya was secretly thankful to Sansa; separate tents meant privacy. Sure there were guards stationed around the perimeters of the encampment, but they were easy enough to avoid or send on their way, especially if Baratheon was your last name.

Joffrey snuck his way into her tent around midnight.

“Anyone see you?” Arya asked. Joffrey just scoffed.

“Your guardsmen are hardly world class. I could be as large as the Mountain and slip by them” He said. Arya just smirked at him. Joffrey was wearing his night attire: A simple, yet likely expensive red night shirt, and loose trousers. Arya was wearing her nightgown; she actually preferred to sleep in just her smallclothes in Winterfell, but her mother always told her it wasn’t ladylike

She beckoned him over to her bed. He walked over, sliding onto her bed and quickly pressing his mouth to hers. She melted into the kiss, allowing Joffrey to push her onto her back and cover her body with his. Arya let her hand slither between their bodies, grasping at his cloth covered cock, causing him to gasp.

“Well you may not be as tall or wide as the Mountain, but you’re plenty large.” She said lustily. Joffrey growled and recaptured Arya’s mouth with his. She massaged his manhood through his pants, feeling him grow in her hand.

“Get that fucking gown off” Joffrey panted, pulling his mouth back. He giave Arya space to strip, sliding the gown of her shoulders and shimmying out of it. She was stark naked under it.

“No smallclothes?” Joffrey asked, eyes taking in her body. “Aren’t you cold?”

“I’m used to it”, She said “Plus, it’d just be another thing for you to tear off of me.” She added slyly. Joffrey had no objections to that. He began undoing his pants, allowing his hard member to flop free. Arya reached out and took him in her hand, giving his cock a few fast strokes, making sure he was as hard as could be.

“On your stomach” He ordered. Arya rolled onto her front and shifted herself on her bed, stretching the length of it. Joffrey straddled her calves, reaching down to give her thighs a squeeze, massaging them. Arya hummed in content, and wiggled her ass a bit before looking over her shoulder with a smirk. Joffrey slid his hands up her thighs, to the globes of her ass. He sank his fingers into her ass flesh, feeling to form to his hand. Arya shivered as he began to need and work her cheeks. He gave her right ass cheek a light slap, and then did the same with the left.

“Not so loud Joffrey.” She chided.

“You love it.” He said with a grin. Arya just rolled her eyes. Joffrey slid up Arya’s body and positioned himself at Arya’s entrance, and pushed forward into her wet folds. She gasped as his cock slid into her; She loved the way he stretched her out, aching in all the right spots. Grabbing her hips, he began to fuck her in short, contollred thrusts. They couldn’t be too loud, lest they attract the attention of the guards at the perimeter.

Arya mewled and moaned as he gently fucked her, cunt dripping and clenching, pulling him in deeper. While she did admittedly prefer the rough, hard, slapping, biting types of fucks that she and Joffrey engaged in, this was also nice.

Intimate.

She felt like her sister, thinking of all the princes and heroes gently making love to them after saving them from barbarians. Joffrey could encapsulate both when he wanted; the ravishing wildling, and the love making prince.

Joffrey leaned down, pressing his chest to Arya’s back, and then turned her head towards him so he could press a kiss to her mouth as he continued to fuck into her. He began to pick up the pace, thrusting his hips faster, thighs slapping against Arya’s plump ass. She began to moan louder now, whines and breathy gasps.

“Lady Arya, are you still awake?”

Joffrey’s hips came to a complete stop and both of them looked to the tent entrance in surprise.

It was Jory. Captain of the Stark guardsmen.

Neither of them moved. Arya looked at Joffrey with a panic stricken face, and looked at her in annoyance. She couldn’t risk not answering, that might cause Jory to come in just to check on her.

“Y-yes Jory. I am. Is something the matter?” She asked. She looked back at Joffrey, motioning him to get off and OUT of her, but he didn’t move. He had a strange look on his face.

“I was just coming to check on how you were. I know this is the furthest you’ve been from Winterfell, and wanted to make sure you were adjusting alright.” Jory explained. Oh Jory, the ever present guard.

A wicked idea shot through Joffrey’s head, and he slowly began thrusting his hips again. Arya’s eyes went wide and she gasped at his sudden movement. She looked back at him, glaring daggers at him.

“Lady Arya?” Jory asked, a bit of concern slipping into his voice.

“I-’I’m fine Jory. PLEASE.” Arya said quickly, nor knowing if that please was for Jory or Joffrey. Joffrey fucked her faster, diggin one hand into her hip, and the other in her hair, forcing her head up and her too look directly ahead. Arya let out a breathy moan, louder than she wanted. Her hands shot to her mouth to keep any more from escaping, but she knew Jory heard it.

“Are you sure? Your voice sounds a bit strained. I can get a nurse for you if you’d like.”

‘Oh Gods, just what I need. More people to see me come undone.’ She thought in a panic as her body betrayed her to Joffrey’s ministrations. She needed to get Jory away.

“Jory, I’m using my chamber pot, so if you wouldn’t mind, I need some privacy.” Arya blurted out, face burning.

She could tell by Jory’s sputtering, that her excuse worked. “Oh! I- uh, my lady I’m sorry to intrude! There’s….no need to tell your father about-”

“Yes, yes, now leave me be!”

With that, she heard Jory’s footsteps marching away, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She wrenched her head from Joffrey’s grip, and looked back at him; he casually continued to fuck her, with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Why would you do that?” She whispered harshly. Joffrey, in his princely audacity, just shrugged his shoulders.

“Thought it’d be funny. And it was.” He said smugly, rolling his hips. Arya did her best to bite back a moan, and shoot him a death glare. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“You’re gonna pay for that Baratheon.” She said hotly. He just continued to smile at her.

“You love it.” He declared, giving her ass a loud slap.

“Joffrey!”
____________________________________________________________________________

Day 9:

The Queen’s carriage broke down, AGAIN.

This now made the 3rd time, but this time, the damage was severe: one of the axises was cracked, and a wheel needed to be replaced. It lost them a day of travel. The King and Queen had a very loud and public argument about it.

“I TOLD YOU WE SHOULDN'T HAVE BROUGHT THAT BLASTED THING”

“WOULD YOU HAVE YOUR CHILDREN AND YOUR WIFE WALKING IN THE DIRT LIKE SOME PEASANTS”

It went on like that for a while, until Ser Jaime dragged his sister off before she said something that would really bring forth the king’s ire.

The king stormed off, dragging Ned and a few other nobles along to go hunting. They ended up killing a rather large moose, which brightened the king’s mood considerably. He decided that they’d make the best of the scenario. The party was just south of Moat Cailin, so the weather wasn’t as dreadful. Robert had his butchers skin and prep the moose for the cooks, and the cooks were instructed to slow roast the moose for supper. He also had his men commandeer some tables from a local village and farm, just enough so the nobles had a place to eat, while the soldiers and servants ate at their respective camps. Right there, in the middle of a field, King Robert threw a feast, celebrating nothing in particular.

There were two sections of tables; one for the ‘adults’, the king, queen, noble head of houses and others who might be privy to important information from the king, and then there was the table for their children and entourage. When supper was called, Joffrey sat, on one side of him was his brother Tommen, and on the other, sat Arya. Sansa was rather annoyed with this setup.

“Arya? Why are you sitting next to Joffrey.” She whined, walking to the table with Jeyne in tow. “I’m sure the prince would rather sit next to me.” She finished, looking at Joffrey with a smile. The prince put on his best fake smile back, and Arya rolled her eyes.

“I figured you’d want to sit across from the prince, so you could look at him more clearly.” Arya replied, raising an eyebrow. She watched her sister’s face grow red.

“Yes. Don’t want to have to turn my head to look at you” Joffrey added smoothly, and Sansa looked as if she was about to melt. She quickly sat down, with a goofy smile on her face. Arya had to bite back a laugh at how easy it was to manipulate her sister.

Once everyone was settled in, the courses were served. Sansa was determined to talk Joffrey’s ear off, but his southern manners kept him from tearing his hair out like he clearly wanted; that and his hand rubbing Arya’s thigh under the table cloth. Arya let her hand slide down to his knee, gently squeezing it. She then began to slowly drag it up the length of his leg, before letting it rest on his hip for a moment. He looked over at her, slightly puzzled by her actions, but Arya looked straight ahead, as if she didn’t notice. Ever so slowly, Arya crept her hands inward, over his crotch, lightly rubbing her hand over him. Sansa was busy chattering with Jeyne, so Joffrey took the opportunity to lean over and whisper to Arya.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He said urgently. She didn’t even turn her head to look at him.

“Oh nothing. Nothing at all.” She replied evenly. He frowned at her slightly, but made no effort to stop her roaming hands.

Arya decided to wait until he took a sip of wine, to delve her hand past his waistband, and grab his cock.

Joffrey nearly choked on his drink as her finger wrapped around his member.

“Joffrey, are you alright?” Asked Sansa in a worry. Joffrey looked around and noticed that Tommen, Jeyene and a few others were looking his way. He composed himself the best he could, with Arya slowly stroking him.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine.” He said in a hurry. Everyone went back to their meal, and Joffrey looked over at Arya, who’s expression hadn’t changed except for the slight hint of a smirk on her face.

With his cock being stroked to it’s full length, Arya maneuvered it and her hand, so that it was sticking out of his waistband, but still hidden by the tablecloth. Joffrey looks around, seeing if anyone has noticed. Tommen is picking at his food, and Sansa and Jeyne are chatting., occasionally glancing his way and addressing him. Joffrey is barely present, giving in to the feeling of Arya stroking him off. She began to pick up the pace, stroking his cock faster, and more animated, twisting her wrist in a corkscrew as she stroked him, rubbing the flat of her palm against his cockhead, smearing pre-cum all over it. With her other hand, she ate and drank, as if nothing was happening. Joffrey’s face became hot, and a blush creeped up his chest.

“Joffrey, are you sure you’re ok? Your fave is a bit red.” Sansa said. Joffrey was losing his composure, coming undone in Arya’s hands- or rather hand.

“Yes” He grunted out. “I’m perfectly hng-fine.” Sansa didn’t look too convinced, but didn’t want to push the issue.
Just then, in the infinite humor of the gods, King Rob walked up behind Sansa and Jeyene

‘Oh, fuck me.’ Joffrey thought.

“Ladies,” He said warmly, addressing Sansa, Arya and Jeyne. “Enjoying the meal?”

“Oh yes. It’s very good.” Said Sansa.

“Yes, Very good meat.” Arya added, smiling, continuing to stroke Joffrey’s cock as she addressed the king of the seven kingdoms.

The King then looked to Joffrey, and frowned.

“Joffrey! What’s the matter boy? You haven’t touched your moose.” King Robert huffed.

By now, Joffrey was a mess, face red, eyes unfocused, propping himself up on the table with his elbows.

“Just-just don’t have much of an appetite father.” He croaked. The king’s frown just deepened, and he leaned forward placing his hands on the table.

“Well you better get an appetite. Don’t go wasting that moose that I worked hard to kill.” He barked out, before walking away, grumbling about ungrateful kids. Sansa and Jeyne went back to their conversation, and Joffrey shot a sly glare at Arya, who was now smirking without even trying to hide it.

She began stroking him even faster now, intending to bring him to climax. Joffrey knew he couldn’t hold off his impending orgasm, but he wasn’t going to let her get one up on him completely. Quickly, he grabbed her now empty wine goblet. She looked at him in confusion, hand still moving. Joffrey brought the cup under the table, with one hand, and with the other, he grabbed her wrist, and angled his cock downward. With a silent groan, he shot his load, directly into the goblet. He filled the cup up nearly to the brim, before bringing it back up, and presenting it to Arya. Her eyes went wide at the display, looking between the cum filled goblet, and Joffrey’s face. He was looking at her with challenge in his eyes. She looked around, making sure no one would notice, she removed her hand from his lap, and took the goblet from Joffrey. With only a moment of hesitation, she brought the goblet to her lips, and slowly tilted her head back. Joffrey watch, enamored, as she drank his cum, letting it slide down her throat as she tilted her head further and further back, eyes closed in concentration. Joffrey looked, and noticed that Sansa was looking at her sister in confusion, and slight disgust.

Arya finished the goblet, bringing her head back down, breathing heavily. She ran her tongue around the rim of the cup, making sure she didn’t miss a drop. Joffrey nearly came again right there. Once she was sure it was completely empty, she gave a little burp.

“Oh Arya, REALLY? You can’t even drink wine without acting like a pig?” Her sister chastised. Arya just shrugged her shoulders.

‘If only you knew.’ Joffrey thought.

“Well, I’m positively stuffed.” Arya said dramatically. “I think I’ll’ head back to my tent.” She finished standing. She walked away from the table, sparing a glance over her shoulder at Joffrey, who gulped.

“I think I’ll go and practice with my sword.” Joffrey said quickly.

“Oh, I could come with you and wat-” Started Sansa.

“No!” Joffrey interrupted. “I mean, I’ll likely be training late. Wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me to have you up all night watching me.”

Sansa frowned slightly, bud nodded nonetheless.

“Well, I suppose I’ll see you in the mor-”

Before she could finish, Joffrey was already on his feet, hot on the trail of Arya, vowing swift revenge.
___________________________________________

Day 17:

Arya and Joffrey’s game of pouncing on each other at the most inopportune times went on over the next several days.

They were really quite creative with their one-upmanship.

Joffrey caught Arya off guard when she was bathing. Dunked her head under water as he took her from behind. By the end, she ended up needing another bath.

Arya caught Joffrey by surprise by the stables as he was talking to his father. Swallowing his cock, with only the stall door keeping his father from seeing. The king got angry at Joffrey’s inability to maintain eye contact while speaking.

Back and forth, tit for tat, seeing how far they could push each other and the risk.

On this particular day, the caravan had just arrived at the Inn at the Crossroads, a popular rest spot for travelers; It was a needed break from tents.

Joffrey was forced by his father to spend the early portion of the day with him. Something about learning to be a man. In reality, it was Joffrey watching his father be an oaf, and stumble through meetings with other nobles. He cared little for these matters, but suffered through them, as it was his duty as prince. When the meetings finally were over, and Joffrey was left to his day, he somehow managed to get cornered by Sansa, who attached himself to his hip. He was internally screaming, being forced to endure her constant chittering. He needed to slip away before he drove his sword through her; that probably would make the rest of the travels awkward. Luckily, he happened to have a skin of wine on him. He kept pushing the skin to her, having her drink more and more. Eventually, she was red faced, and drunk enough where he was able to slip away. He was sure she’d be fine. Or not; he didn’t particularly care either way.

He went looking for Arya. He hadn’t seen her all day. He walked around the outskirts of the Inn, looking for her; he knew she always preferred secluded areas. He heard noise coming from near the river bank. He followed the noise, and was welcomed to the sight of his Arya.

What was less welcome, was the sight of the portly commoner with her.

They were play fighting, acting as if sticks were swords. She was laughing.

Joffrey was always quick to anger. He had a temper, something he inherited from his parents. But he saw red faster than he ever thought was possible. He marched over to them, making his presence known.

“What is going on here.” He roared. Arya, whose back was to Joffrey, jumped at the suddenness of his voice and turned around. The chubby commoner, who was still swinging his stick, struck Arya in the back of her shoulder, causing her to yelp.

“Oh! Mycah!”

“Sorry M’lady” He says quickly, dropping the stick.

Turning back to Joffrey, Arya smiles at him. Joffrey does not smile back.

“You. Who are you?” He said, staring hatefully at the peasant.

“Mycah, m’lord.” He said feebly.

“He’s the butcher’s boy.” Arya interjected. “You were busy all morning, and I got bored. We were just having a bit of fun.” Arya said, looking at Joffrey’s angry face.

“A bit of fun.” Joffrey repeated disdainfully, still staring at Mycah. “You know you just struck a lady. A noble lady. I could have you drawn and quartered for that.”

Mycah’s eyes went wide, and his skinned paled.
“M’lord. It was an accident! I swear we was just messing about!”

Arya stepped toward Joffrey, eyes flashing with anger.

“Joffrey! What do you think you’re doing. He’s my friend. He-”

Arya was cut off, by Joffrey’s hand shooting to her throat, grabbing it and squeezing.

Her eyes went wide, and on instinct her hands went to his wrist. Joffrey spun her around, pressing her back to his chest, while still gripping her throat tightly.

“You know butcher’s boy-” Joffrey said with a suddenly calm voice. “What you did, it’s not how you treat a proper lady. THIS is how you treat a lady.”

Joffrey applied a bit more pressure into his hand. He leaned forward and whispered low into Arya’s ear “Do you trust me?”

She couldn’t respond, but she stopped clawing at his wrist, letting them fall to the side, and letting Joffrey squeezer her throat unabated.

Mycah made to move, to get out of whatever THIS was.

“STAY, right where you are, butcher’s boy.” Joffrey ordered. Mycah froze on the spot.

Arya’s vision began to fade as Joffrey continued to cut off blood to her brain. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her limbs became weak. She didn’t know what was going on, but she trusted Joffrey not to hurt her. Well, hurt her permanently. After several more seconds, she went limp, held up only by his hand and body.

“M-m’lord! Her eyes...they’ve closed! She’ll die!’ Mycah exclaimed in a panic. Joffrey gingerly looked at Arya’s face, which was slack in unconsciousness.

“Hmmm, I suppose you’re right.” He said simply. Joffrey let go of Arya, allowing her to fall forward onto the grass in a heap. She laid there for several seconds, unmoving, before suddenly gasping for air in a coughing fit. She slowly moved herself to her hands and knees, breathing heavily as her surroundings came back to her. Standing behind her, Joffrey casually undid his trousers, fishing out his cock, then kneeled down behind Arya.

“As I was saying, This is how you properly treat a lady. Watch closely now, butcher’s boy. You might learn something.” Joffrey continued. He pushed Arya’s dress over her hips.

No small clothes. Just how he liked her.

Without warning, he lined his cock up with her entrance, and thrust forward HARD, filling her up in one move.

Her head shot up, and she moaned loudly, as his cock brought her back to the present. Joffrey grabbed her hips tightly and began to pound into her relentlessly. Mycah, still just a few meters away, watched in a mixture of horror and fascination at the lewd display in front of him.

“See, a lady must be treated with delicacy and care.” Joffrey grunted as he fucked her. He gave her right ass cheek a hard slap, causing her to moan out loudly. “You understand me, peasant?”

“Y-yes sir.” Mycah stammered, eyes transfixed on the display.

Joffrey could make out the tent forming in Mycah’s dirty pants. He wasn’t surprised. This was probably his first time seeing a woman in any form of undress, let alone getting fucked

“Oh gods...oh gods...Joffrey please” Arya moaned, thrusting back against Joffrey’s hard pumps. Her hands dug into the grass and dirt. “Please…” She begged wantonly.

“Do you want to touch her Mycah?” Joffrey suddenly askes.

“M’lord?”

“Do you want to touch her?” Joffrey repeated, pulling Arya up by her shoulders, and sliding her dress off them to reveal her small bouncing breasts.

Mycah swallowed, and said “Yes m’lord.”

Arya was too lost in her own pleasure to formulate a response to everything, but she looked over her shoulder at Joffrey wairily. He gave her his ‘trust me’ look, and pressed a kiss to her mouth.

Slowly, an unsteady feet, Mycah walked over to the pair. He got to arms length, and looked at Joffrey, unsure. Joffrey just nodded his head.

“Go on. Touch.”

Slowly, Mycah reached his arm out, eyes wide with anticipation.

That was when Joffrey pulled out his short sword, and slashed Mycah across his throat.

The poor butcher’s boy barely had time to register what happened, before he fell forward, dead. Arya yelled out, and pulled herself off Joffrey. She quickly pulled on her dress back in place. She looked at Mycah’s body, whose blood was staining the grass around him. She then looked at Joffrey, who was breathing heavily, eyes wild, gripping his sword handle hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

Finally, Arya spoke.

“Joffrey…” she said carefully. “What did you do?”

“I-....I don’t know.” He said truthfully. He let his sword drop to the ground, as he looked at Mycah dead body.

“Joffrey, you killed him.” Arya said simply. There wasn’t judgement in her no voice, just concern.

“I just…..He was close to you. Too close to you. He touched you.” Joffrey said, voice tight.

“We were just playing a game” Arya responded, stepping closer to Joffrey.

“It doesn’t matter! He’s a peasant. He shouldn’t be anywhere near you!” Joffrey suddenly shouted. Arya doesn’t respond, and just looks at him. Joffrey looked at his feet, almost like a child who knew he messed up.

“Do you hate me now?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper. He felt Arya’s hand go to his face.

“Oh Joffrey no.” She said reassuringly. “I could never hate you.”

Joffrey leans into her touch.

“But you need to THINK before you do things like this. What if someone stumbled by. Would you have slashed their throats too?” She asked, tone softly chastising. Joffrey has the grace to look mildly ashamed.

“I’m yours Joffrey. Remember?” She said sweetly.

“Mine.” Joffrey responded after a minute. He once again looked at Mycah’s cold, colorless body on the ground. “What are we gonna do about him?”

Arya glanced over at Mycah, and then around, face contemplative.

She walked over to the stick she previously had, and without warning, turned and struck Joffrey in the head with it. He recoiled back in pain.

“Ow! Are you bloody mad.” He yelled, hands going up to his head. He felt a trickle of blood run down his temple.

“I’m not mad. Mycah is. We don’t know what came over him. He just suddenly attacked, and you had to defend yourself.” Arya said simply. Joffrey looked at her confused for a moment, before he got her meaning.

Conniving. Deceitful

Joffrey was completely in love.
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The North Forgot