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GOT: The Golden Lion 11 - Beyond The Wall & The Negotiations
🕑 Added 2024-03-28 22:15:30 +0000 UTCThe bed creaked, and uncontrolled moans escaped Catelyn Stark nonstop. Her clothes were discarded, her body a mess covered in her young lover's numerous licks and splattered seeds. Her legs remained spread wide as the King of the Seven Kingdoms thrust to his heart's content.
How many nights had passed? How many days had it been? Initially lost in the sorrow of losing her youngest child, somehow the young King had made her forget it all and indulge in the most primitive of pleasures.
He bred her like a mare, morning, noon, or night; wherever he found time and space, however he desired. When did she become so docile to this man, Catelyn wondered. Never able to deny him the pleasure of her warm tightness.
Or perhaps it was her own desire to feel him slide into her most intimate depth and leave her a mess of pain, pleasure, and plunder.
"Aaaag… Joffrey-mmm…"
"Almost done, my Catelyn." Joffrey had been going on for an hour now nonstop, his cock straining inside the ripe woman for the fourth time that day, and the second time that night.
With a flurry of pleasure, he leaned his body over Catelyn's plump, swollen mounds and suckled on them to a further tint of red. The woman kept her legs wrapped around his back and pulled him in—like every single night.
The tickle brewed across his length, and he soon spasmed. His muscles convulsed, and he spilled all his leftover nectar deep inside, like a ritual. No longer was he the only one who wanted Catelyn to be with his babe. She wanted it too.
"Hah…" Joffrey breathed out deeply and relaxed beside Catelyn's body, planting a deep kiss on her lips before pulling her into an embrace against his chest. "I fear you will be constantly on my mind as I travel north."
Catelyn licked his neck under his chin, still savoring his young masculinity. "Ummm… I can join you."
"But Winterfell needs someone, now more than ever. The Boltons may be gone, but we have yet to receive word from all of the Northern houses." Joffrey replied, caressing the curves of her waist, "I will leave behind a thousand men from my army. They will protect you and Winterfell."
Catelyn breathed deeply and looked up at his face with nothing but gratitude. "I know the risk you’re taking going north to find Bran. I don't know how I or our house will ever repay you."
Joffrey smiled handsomely and gently touched her face before brushing a few strands of her brunette hair behind her ear, "Repay? As long as I can call you 'my Catelyn', I need nothing else."
Ugh, I can feel the goosebumps all over me.
He couldn't help but feel scared from his own scheming mind. Here he was heading North to kill Brandon Stark before he reached his destination, and this woman believed he'd save the boy.
"Umm…" Catelyn smiled and reached down to his groin with her hand and started rubbing him again. "Then allow me to give you a last parting gift, my Joffrey. Just relax and close your eyes. I’ll do the rest.
"Oh!" Joffrey groaned as he soon felt Catelyn's mouth licking and sucking the life out of his flaccid cock, slowly waking it up once more.
But he had a long journey ahead, so he closed his eyes, arms folded behind his head. The pleasure was otherworldly, and the sleep it brought was pure bliss.
####
Beyond the Narrow Sea, in the lands of myths and mere stories for the people of Westeros, a mother of dragons slowly made her rise. Her army was now a little less manned than she hoped for, a number of Unsullied sadly snatched from her before she could reach them.
However, she easily freed the city of Yunkai. The fear of her dragons was enough to make her enemies cower.
"Your Grace, another missive has come from Westeros. It has King Joffrey's seal." Barristan Selmy approached the Queen after she finished addressing the crowd of free people of Yunkai.
Daenerys gazed at the letter in Barristan's hand, her eyes narrow. "Should I burn it or read it?"
"Knowing your enemy is better than going in blind, Your Grace," Barristan replied. "Reading may give us an insight into Joffrey's mind."
"Very well." Daenerys took the letter, broke its wax seal, and read it under her breath. At first, her expression was utterly serious, but a chuckle appeared soon after. She looked at Barristan, "I think he's lost his mind."
"That happened a very long time ago, Your Grace," Barristan added, and took the letter, but didn't read it.
"Go on, read it loud." Daenerys nudged him.
Quickly, the eyes of Jorah, Missandei, and Gray Worm fixed on him.
"Good morning, or perhaps evening, I know not when this shall reach you. But I do know it eventually will, perhaps a little late this time. That poor boy you killed previously was just a squire with a poor family to feed—but don't fret, I have fed them enough gold to last generations…" Barristan looked at Daenerys embarrassingly, "Why does he speak as if you two are long-lost friends?"
"Keep reading."
So Barristan continued, "I know what game you're planning, and in all honesty, by the name of the Seven Gods, I'm fearful of dragons. Now, I know you have them, and I know they are growing quite well. Soon, you shall have them flying over the skies of King's Landing.
"Understandable, very much understandable. If I had a dragon, I'd do the same, and you have three. But is there really a need for bloodshed? My fat whoremonger of a Father killed yours when I wasn't even born, and honestly, I don't even remember that man much. The stench of wine was too pungent for me.
“So, I suggest a different route that benefits you and me at the same time. How about I abdicate the throne when you land on my shores? I have no interest in ruling, and with the word of the Others, also known as White Walker, appearing north of the Wall, I reckon I'd put my effort into fighting them, or else none of the house, nor Westeros, or the throne will be left…"
Barristan stared at Daenerys once again, fuming, "This is nonsense! Fairytale of a chil—"
"Read the next line," Daenerys ordered.
Barristan looked down, and his eyes bulged out in shame. "...I know you must be thinking, This is nonsense! Fairytale of a child, but is it? Weren't dragons the same? Did the reappearance of the dragons mark the rise of another age of magic? I don't know about you, but I feel quite terrified of this magic… we're not prepared for this.
"Ah, in any case, do consider my offer. You can have your Iron Throne without bloodshed. Just make sure your dragons are big enough to make all the houses kneel—Oh, if you let me ride one of your dragons once, and let me keep one of the old, rusting crowns after abdicating, I'll even help you subdue all the other houses… Your Friend From A Distant Land, Joffrey Baratheon."
"Hah…" Daenerys laughed out, unable to hold herself at those last words.
"If he expected me to laugh, he has succeeded. If he expected me to take him seriously, he has utterly failed. But if he's honest, we'll eventually know."
"Don't, Khaleesi, do not go easy on your enemies. Joffrey Baratheon has Lannister blood in him," Jorah interrupted. "He cannot be trusted.
"I'm not trusting him, Ser Jorah. I'm being entertained." Daenerys proudly replied, tearing the missive, "Let him play his games while we play ours."
####
"I hate the North," Joffrey groaned as they finally saw Castle Black in the distance. The long horse ride had turned his balls sore, and he already longed for the feminine, delicate touch of Catelyn. "Make sure the men are dressed warmly. If things go well, there won't be any battles to fight."
"This is ancient magic," Ser Arthur mumbled at the sight of the wall. "To think men built this."
"Men and magic," Joffrey added, although he didn't feel much excitement. After dying once and then being reborn, it was enough magic for a lifetime. Nothing came as a shock anymore, not even the bloody White Walkers.
As they approached Castle Black, horns started echoing from the wall. But no hostile reactions came as Joffrey had kept the flags bearing his sigil high atop a few steeds.
"Open the gates!"
Joffrey's arrival was met with little enthusiasm. After all, the men there were mostly criminals, and they had been punished in his name. Not that he minded. They were all worthless to him, most of them at least.
"Your Grace!"
Joffrey looked up at the wooden staircase. A man in a black cloak came out with white hair on his head and a wide political smile.
The man quickly came down and knelt before Joffrey's horse. "Welcome to Castle Black, Your Grace. I am the acting Lord Commander, Alliser Thorne."
Joffrey quickly glanced at the side and nodded to Ser Arthur. With that, a name was added to the list of 'to be killed'.
"Please rise, Ser Arthur," Joffrey ordered. "The great houses in the South have been receiving some peculiar ravens these past few weeks."
"Ah…" Thorne fumbled, "Well, those are the actions of Maester Aemon."
"Targaryen?" Joffrey hummed, "Are they real? Have the White Walkers truly returned? Have you seen them?"
Alliser Thorne looked up, and gulped at the sight of an army of three thousand before him. He dared not anger the young King.
"I can confirm no such thi—"
"I have!"
Finally, the one who matters. Joffrey looked behind Alliser, and there stood Jon Snow in the flesh. His wavy hair, and the rigid face, yet with a hint of early youth. A man who returned to life. Are we similar?
"You must be Jon Snow," Joffrey said, seeing Jon go down on one knee. “I hope you heard about the most recent happenings. Forgive me for not being able to save the youngest—I tried, but Ramsay was a monster."
Jon curtly nodded, having already mourned for the loss of Robb and Rickard once. "H-How are my sisters, Your Grace?"
"Sansa is with my babe, and Arya has recently arrived in King's Landing. I assure you they are both in good health, in body and in mind," Joffrey replied and finally got off his horse, approaching Jon. "At first, this campaign of mine was to end the war with Robb, but I was too late."
"I was told, Your Grace." Jon felt uncomfortable talking about the deceased. "Do you believe the ravens?"
Joffrey shrugged and strolled left and right, looking at Castle Black and the wall behind it. "The recent word is that three dragons have been hatched in Essos and are growing well. If that can happen, why can't the White Walkers exist too?"
"Dragons!" Alliser Throne exclaimed, almost excited. After all, he had supported the Targaryens in Robert's Rebellion.
Another reason to kill you. Joffrey sneered and focused on Jon.
"I was told you have met the King beyond the wall? This… Mance…"
"Aye, I have," Jon affirmed.
"Then, I need you to go see him again. Tell him that the King of the Seven Kingdoms is willing to speak with him and negotiate terms. He can bring two thousand men with him, no more, no less—no giants, nor giant animals. We shall all meet at Craster's Keep." Joffrey ordered, his unusual order confusing many. "If the White Walkers are preparing for war, they need the living to create an army of dead. The Wildlings are the best food for their fantasies."
"B-But where will you settle them, Your Grace?" Alliser Thorne asked in fear. "They’re savages with no laws."
"I know, that's why not all of them will be allowed this side in one go. Mance will have to give assurity that laws will be followed. That the people of the North will not be murdered, raped, robbed of their wealth and dignity." Joffrey finished and mounted his horse again, "What are you waiting for, Jon Snow? Go and invite him—this chance will not come again for them."
"I-I can't," Jon replied. "Craster's Keep has been taken over by the mutineers. I have to go end them."
"I’ll take care of that; I have plenty of men," Joffrey replied and looked at the castle. "A thousand of my men will stay behind and take over the workings of Castle Black as long as I'm staying here. The remaining two thousand shall follow me beyond the wall."
Nobody felt very good about that. If something were to happen to the King, all of the Night's Watch would be blamed, and all of them would be killed by the Lannisters. But in the face of Joffrey's army, none said a word.
Silently, right before everyone's eyes, Joffrey led his army out of the long tunnel in the Wall. It was cramped and a safety risk for him. What if the Night's Watch refused to open the gates when he returned? That's why he left behind a thousand men.
"You should hasten, Jon Snow," Joffrey urged, holding no liking for the man. A secret Targaryen; that was all he was to him. "Consider Craster's Keep Secured."
Jon, conflicted, looked at the young King and eventually nodded. He knew better than any that such an opportunity would never appear again. Not a mere Lord, but the King was ready to hear the words of the Free Folk.
####
Joffrey had a different reason for venturing beyond the wall so quickly and sending Jon away as soon as possible. Crastar's Keep was still under the mutineers' thumb, which meant Bran Stark was somewhere nearby.
He thought plenty of times about what to do with the cripple. But in the end, the best Stark was a dead Stark, unless it was a woman. Beyond that, even if he somehow destroyed the Three-Eyed Raven in his cave, there was no guarantee Bran wouldn't master his abilities.
"Surround the entire Craster's Keep and make sure nobody can escape. Leave the women and children alive, kill all the men—especially a cripple," Joffrey commanded Ser Arthur. "Whoever kills the cripple will get the reward of a hundred gold from my personal treasury."
Of course, the Unsullied didn't desire or need gold. But it was still a reward they could use when they retire, as Joffrey had promised.
"Go ahead," he gave the command.
Right away, under Ser Arthur's leadership, the encirclement started to get smaller and smaller, two thousand men creeping closer to Craster's Keep. The cries of women and children were audible throughout the woods, what was happening inside was no secret to any.
Shhh~
The sound of two thousand spears sliding against the faces of shields was deafening.
All the sounds inside the keep quickly died down.
"We surrender!"
As soon as the first mutineer came out to scout, he fell to his knees in fright. There were just too many soldiers that he couldn't even imagine fighting for his life.
Thud!
"I surrender too!"
One after another, the mutineers started dropping to their knees after coming out of the keep. The Unsullied didn't kill them either, only tied their hands and legs before throwing them to the side—pigs to be slaughtered later.
Joffrey saw the entire process from a safe distance, a few Unsullied still with him for his protection. He watched as Ser Arthur led the men into the keep and waited for the final results to come out.
'Please be there, please be there…' Joffrey prayed to the Seven. 'I don't have much time.'
An hour passed, and finally, Ser Arthur returned, looking bloodied. "Your Grace, we found no cripples inside. But we did find a contraption that can be used by a cripple. A boy and girl also tried to attack us, but we killed them swiftly."
Joffrey quickly looked further north. "Take a thousand men and follow me. Bring jars of Wildfire. We’re going further north."
If you're so desperate to reach that cave, I'll burn you with it.
####
"Hodor!"
"Hodor!"
"Hodor!"
"Stop running, Hodor. We can't escape this… I've seen it already."
"Hodor!"
Bran sighed and still guided the big man as he lay in his arms. He had accepted his fate after his last vision. An army with the King himself, he couldn't help but feel bitter about it. He wanted to live, he wanted to walk, and yet here he was—dying.
"That way," he guided Hodor toward the cave of the Three-Eyed Raven. He hoped to at least ask the man why he was guided all the way to the North. Why give him a false purpose that, in the end, meant nothing?
Clop! Clop!
"Hodor!"
"There's nothing we can do." Bran surrendered himself at the sound of horses galloping behind.
"Ho-dor!"
Bran looked and noticed the tree from his dreams right before him. A peculiar tunnel led under it. He knew this was the place he was meant to come, where the Three-Eyed Raven resided. But it didn't even matter anymore.
Soon after, the ground started vibrating, and eventually, the loud grunts of men manning their horses increased. An entire army appeared seemingly out of nowhere and surrounded everything, even the tree. They were all donned in black fur and heads covered with helmets. They looked no different than the bringers of death beyond the wall, simply black-robed instead of ice-white.
"Ser Arthur! Light the entire tree on fire. Do not approach the cave. Burn it from a distance!" Joffrey's loud command echoed as his horse cut through the surrounding lines of horses and came to the front. "You seem to have lost your way home, Brandon Stark."
"King Joffrey," Bran voiced calmly, his tone still as young and youthful as the last time they had met. "I never expected I'd see a southern King beyond the wall."
"Circumstances are such that I had no option. I'm sure you’re already aware," Joffrey said, trying to see how much the boy knew.
"Thank you for saving my mother."
Brilliant! He has no idea about my schemes. All the back-breaking hard work felt worth it. But does he know why I'm here?
"But I don't know why it all came to be this way. You were not a part of the future I was shown," Brandon asked, confused. "The Three-Eyed Raven was wrong about you."
Joffrey shrugged, "One thing I’ve understood during these past few years is that magic is a bitch. It takes you by surprise when you least expect it. You found your magic when you lost everything. I found mine when I lost… No, betrayed and backstabbed. In the end, both of us are slaves of fate. Both of us fight to stop the true threat in the north."
"Then why must you do this?" Brandon asked.
"Because I was an ignorant boy once." Joffrey unsheathed his sword. "But now, I’ve learned what it means to truly be alive—to live! I have no animosity with you, Bran; I pity you. What Cersei and Jaime did to you, I shall have them slain soon enough. But there can only be one with the burning fire—there can only be one Azor Ahai—only one who knows the past and the future!"
"Hodor is strong." Joffrey ordered, "Use the arrows. Aim for the head."
In an instant, two dozen Unsullied came forward with bows at the ready. They aimed and took the shot right away. As expected, Hodor had no idea he was the target at that time, so he sat down to shield Bran.
Arrows pierced through his back, and eventually, a few punctured his lungs, and others reached his heart. Some plunged into his nape at the same time.
While constantly shouting "Hodor!" he lost his life, shielding Bran.
The young Stark boy was in tears, helplessly lying there. It was pitiful enough that even Joffrey felt terrible, wondering if he had become more dangerous than the Joffrey he once was.
"Forgive me, it had to be this way." Joffrey approached only after Ser Arthur had kicked Hodor's body aside and ensured he was dead. "But if it's a choice between you and me—I choose me… Ha!"
The King's sword came down with a hard plunge and pierced straight through the young Stark's neck, sliding past the insides, and almost severing his head apart. For the entire time, Bran kept staring at his killer, yet there was no hatred—he had seen it happen already.
It was inevitable.
"Burn their bodies to ashes, same for the tree," Joffrey ordered and stepped away from the dead bodies.
He didn’t get back on his horse, for now, silently staring as everything took to fire. He heard some cries from inside soon after, knowing it was the children of the forest, the abomination that created another abomination.
All that's left now is Jon Snow and Daenerys.
Joffrey started plotting his next moves. Sansa shall be my pawn for the North, Catelyn for the Riverlands, and the Vale. Grandfather has Westerlands; I'll claim the Stormlands soon enough—this leaves the Reach and Dorne.
But one thing was clear enough for now. The war of five kings was over. Yes, the Ironborn were still left, but Joffrey didn't see them as contenders from the beginning. For now, Westeros was truly his.
At last, he had become its one true King.
####
There was to be no mention or record of what Joffrey did to Bran and the tree. No mention of them to be made or left in history. The young Stark was declared dead, lost beyond the wall as if he never lived.
Surprisingly, instead of feeling any remorse, Joffrey felt calmer and energized. He could bet if he had any of his women with him, he'd have fucked them for an entire day and night without stopping.
But for now, his focus was on dealing with the Wildlings. The goal was to use them as cannon fodders while giving them the least benefit possible. The only thing he wished to achieve was to ensure they didn't become the army of the dead.
Crastar's Keep was cleaned and turned into a small manor fit for the King. The blood and scent of vile acts that occurred inside were wiped away, and the women there were sent to Castle Black.
It took Jon Snow eight days to return, but when he did, he returned with the rumble of the ground. An army of two thousand Wildlings marched on foot to the Craster's Keep. A newly constructed watchtower quickly spotted them.
Joffrey, also on that tower, used the far-eye instrument to look. As asked, there appeared to be no giants or large animals in the army.
What do we have here?
But just as Joffrey looked for Mance Rayder, he noticed a peculiar figure other than Jon Snow. A tall woman of all things, beautiful and young, her all-white clothes caught his eyes, and more than that, her blonde hair was gleaming like fine honey. I guess the meeting won't be as boring as I predicted.
"Prepare the food and send the messenger party." Joffrey quickly ordered and returned to the prepared hall of Craster's Keep.
Inside the main hall, a large, long table was set. On the longer sides were multiple ordinary chairs. But on the shorter edges were one higher, taller, regal chair each. Knowing how massive the Wildling army was, he dared not take the matter lightly.
So he waited alone in the hall, in his seat. He ate an apple silently. Too cold for his taste, he felt. He truly missed King's Landing and his girls. It had been more than half a year since he started this journey.
"Your Grace, they have arrived." Ser Arthur knocked at the door and opened it, leading the small crowd in. First entered Jon Snow. Behind him came an old-looking Mance Rayder, and, finally, the blonde woman Joffrey had seen.
Now being so close, he couldn't help but wonder how in the Seven hells, the Wildlings produced something so gorgeous. She looked like a perfect sculpture carved with the finest of features. High sharp cheekbones, eyes that were almost blue, and beyond all—slender with a full bosom—just the type Joffrey loved the most.
Did they abduct some highborn woman? How did they make someone like her? Joffrey felt amused by her mere proud presence. He could see the fierceness in her eyes as she surveyed the hall.
"Your Grace," Mance Rayder spoke first.
Joffrey finally looked away from the woman, not even hiding his attraction. "Forgive me, but I know not how to address you, King… beyond the wall."
"Anything you like, for I know you will accept anything but the rise of another King in your own lands." Mance spoke very diplomatically, "I… I am astounded. The rumors spoke of a boy King, frail and thin… but ..."
Joffrey chuckled and gestured for them to take their seats. "Eventually, every lad has to grow into a man. A few battles, a few brushes with death, and surviving assassinations do that just fine."
"That's better, since now we both know the cost of war," Mance replied, introducing those who came with him. "This is Val, my wife's sister. This is Lord of Bones, and…"
Joffrey didn't even listen to the other names as he locked his gaze with the fine, Wildling woman. She stared back all the same, but her gaze contained more disgust than desire.
"I know about the White Walkers or the Others, call them whatever." Joffrey got straight to the point. "I know they’re amassing an army to attack all of the living world."
"And yet you choose to keep the walls shut," Val barked all of a sudden, giving Joffrey the first taste of her voice. It wasn't too feminine but had a unique flavor.
Joffrey smiled at her, "Isn't that why we're here? What do you want?"
"Allow us to pass through the wall and settle," Mance spoke. "Or else we'll have to make our own path by any means possible. Both sides represent death to us, King Joffrey."
"Impossible," Joffrey replied. "For now… You wil—I mean you Free Folk have lived out there without knowing the laws of the South, the way of living. We don't plunder and loot down south; we grow our own food, make our own things, and sell them if we have too much. That's the basis of civilization. Tell me, Mance, can your people get accustomed to that?"
"We are no kneelers!" Val voiced again, fire burning in her eyes.
Joffrey shrugged, "Even if I allow you to not kneel before me, can you guarantee your people won't ravage the lands, plunder whatever they find, rape any woman they see? Will the Northern lords feel safe in your presence? Won't they join hands to deal with you?"
The rest of the Wildings may have the delusion they can obey rules, but Mance does not. He had lived on both sides of the world and understood the difference in culture. "Then what do you propose?"
"Mance, you are the King Beyond the Wall, but on my side, you will be a lord at best. Your wife will be a noble lady, and your children will be your heir. The Free Folk will be your people, your workforce. I will allow you to make Craster's Keep your residence. Select a batch of one thousand Free Folk you can guarantee will behave.
"We shall move your people down south in batches. This will give enough time to settle them all and learn the trade of the land. A sword is just a tool south of the wall, not a way of life."
"But nothing grows in the North. How will you ensure the survival of my people?" Mance inquired, wanting to reserve his decision until everything was revealed.
Joffrey relaxed back in his seat and crossed his arms, "For the Southern lords to give a damn about the North, we must first prove to them what danger is approaching. Mance, if you can bring me at least one of the wights, it will be enough to prove to the world the White Walkers have returned. Food will flow into the North for your cause, along with means to protect the Wall further."
Mance fell into deep thoughts and took his sweet time. That whole time, Joffrey played a staring contest with Val. He loved her unbreakable spirit, almost as if challenging him.
"I also know how to make blades that can kill White Walkers with a mere slice."
"What?!" Mance exclaimed this time, standing up from his seat in shock. "There is such a thing?!"
"Don't forget, this isn't the first time the dead are rising. They have been defeated before," Joffrey replied.
"H-How do you know such things?" Mance inquired.
Joffrey hummed, asking that himself at times. "Gods? Beings of unknown origin? They guide, and I follow. White Walkers are not invincible."
Mance Rayder looked at the ones he had brought along for any objection. Seeing none, he nodded at Joffrey. "I will form a team and send them to catch a wight. It will take time, and there is no guarantee they’ll return."
Joffrey nodded and looked at Val. "How about this? To strengthen the relationship between the Free Folk and Westeros, you send a representative with me to King's Landing."
"A representative?" Mance frowned.
Joffrey continued, "I think I'm lacking a personal Kingsguard. Why not allow your wife's sister to become one? She will be under an oath and protected by the King's authority. As a Kingsguard, she will live in the Red Keep itself, at the core of power and politics."
All heads turned to Val, and even Jon stared at the woman.
Then finally they looked at Joffrey's face, and knew very well that representation had nothing to do with it. But the idea did sound somewhat interesting. Knowing what was happening at the center of power was a great boon.
"What do you think?" Mance asked the young woman sitting beside him.
Val looked confused, "What is a Kingsguard?"
"A knight oathbound to protect the King at all cost, no matter what. They can never marry, never make a family, no lands or titles, and always wear white armor," Jon Snow explained briefly. "The appointment lasts a lifetime unless dismissed by the King."
Val sneered right away, "I'm no kneeler."
Joffrey scoffed, "I thought you wanted to help your fellow Free Folk."
"I do, but I do not kneel to any."
Oh, you will for me; Plenty of times. Joffrey felt a fire burn in his heart the more he talked to her.
"You can speak with powerful men and women of Westeros, ensure your people in the North receive food and weapons to defend themselves. Warm clothes to keep themselves heated." Joffrey kept on going, burying her in guilt. "Is that all below a mere salute to the King? I don't ask you to do it out of loyalty, but rather as a show of duty to blend in. To prove that Free Folk are not savages."
In the end, Joffrey was indeed a master manipulator.
"I won't kneel to just anyone." Val clenched her teeth in anger, hating being put in such a situation. "I demand a duel. Force me to my knee if you can!"
"What?!" Jon Snow got up quickly. "No, you must not."
"A duel it is," Joffrey agreed, which shocked everyone—even Val, from the look on her face. "Ser Arthur, bring me my sword. The rest of you, wait here and have supper. I want to duel her in privacy."
Mance didn't like that. What if Joffrey used his soldier's help? "No, that won—"
"Fine by me!" Val barked, however. "Lead the way."
Mance sighed in defeat and eased in his seat. Although he felt confident about Val, after seeing the young King, he didn't know what to feel.
####
"Where are we going?" asked Val, her scabbard clenched in her hand. "Don't think you can win with mere schemes."
Joffrey chuckled and led Val away from Crastar's Keep. He didn't want any disturbance in the midst of his duel.
"I may be a man of schemes, but I'm not shameless. We’ll duel fair and square, and if I win, you shall kneel to me and become my Kingsguard."
Val snorted, "That is 'If' you win. But what do I get for winning?"
"What do you want?" Joffrey asked.
Val thought about it for a while, "Food and clothes for Free Folk, at least ten thousand."
Not as heartless and selfish as I thought. Joffrey liked this new information about her. Her loyalty can go a long way if won.
Finally, they arrived at the spot he had chosen, a place surrounded by tall trees with enough space for them to fight.
"Get ready."
Val unsheathed her sword right away, "Don't forget the deal."
Joffrey took off his heavy winter cloak and raised his sword at her, "That would be unbecoming of a King."
"Hmm," Val sneered, fixing her honey-blonde hair into a braid across one shoulder. She didn't get rid of her cloak, however, too proud of her abilities. A kneeler was no match to her, she genuinely believed. "Ha!"
She went in first with a thrusting strike. Joffrey, constantly smiling, stepped a little to the side and knocked her sword down with his, followed by a quick swing to Val's chest.
Trrrr~
The sound of clothes tearing echoed.
Val looked down, and to her shock, a good chunk of her white tunic ripped off her chest, revealing some of her underclothes tightly wrapped around her full bosom.
Joffrey mused, feeling confident. Training nonstop every single day had helped a lot, and learning from some of the best was bound to give him an edge. Especially against a Wildling who lacked any major technique.
"Apologies," he tauntingly said and stepped back. "Come at me again."
Val did just that, and this time, she fought like a true Wildling. Although she swung her sword at Joffrey's flank, she instantly turned it into a fake and instead jumped forward, slamming her shoulder on Joffrey's chest.
"Ah." Joffrey was thrown back, coughing a little at her strike. "I thought it was a sword duel."
"There are no rules; that's how the Free Folk fight," Val barked, proudly raising her sword and striking at Joffrey again, this time aiming for his head.
Metal struck metal, and the song of their duel reverberated. Joffrey blocked with ease and overpowered Val with his raw strength. She was almost as tall as him, but not nearly as strong. He pushed her back and kicked at her stomach.
"So be it." Joffrey didn't pause anymore, and the moment he noticed Val losing her balance, he charged forward.
Clank!
"No!"
Joffrey swiftly hit very close to the hilt of Val's sword, sending such vibrations into the steel that Val lost her grip. Right then, Joffrey, moved further in towards her, pushing her down on the ground, and stepping on her sword, disarming her.
"Do you surrender?" with Val on the ground, Joffrey aimed the tip of his blade at her throat.
Val glared at him the entire time, "In your dreams, kneeler. Ha!'
She grabbed dirt from the snowy ground and threw it at Joffrey's face. But he didn't even flinch, and instead knelt down over Val's body, spreading his knees beside her waist and the side edge of his sword now fully resting on her neck.
"Do you surrender?" he asked again, putting weight on her body and forcing her to lay completely straight on the ground. The increased closeness of their bodies made him realize how utterly beautiful she was—to the point that any Southern noble would giddily marry her.
Val gritted her teeth, trying to kick her legs. But the blade, dangerously resting on her neck, didn't let her. "Y-You…"
Joffrey smiled and eased a little, "How about a fistfight next? No swords, no daggers, just our hands."
It appeared like a ray of hope, "You'll regret it, kneeler King."
Oh, I know I won't. He thought as he looked at her delicate, full bosom. The curves were worth dying for. Not that he planned to.
Quickly, he stepped away from her and let Val stand up. They both discarded their swords and raised their fists up, prepared to tackle one another. However, this time, Val showed hesitance in charging, constantly taunting instead.
"Come on, now. Don't be scared."
"Are you sure?" Joffrey asked, "What if I'm too much to handle?"
"I've handled ten of the likes of you at the same time," she growled.
Joffrey shrugged and slowly stepped forward. Ser Arthur was a master in fist fighting and general martial arts. It was one of the elements of Unsullied training, and thanks to that, he's had some great training sessions.
Snap!
Joffrey suddenly leaped down to Val's feet when she was expecting a punch from him. Before she knew it, Joffrey had caught her legs with his arms and pulled her, throwing her on the ground. He gave her no time and got on top of her, spreading her white woolen breaches-clad legs and grinding his manhood in between.
He weighed down on her, grabbing her arms, spreading them wide, and holding them there. He didn't let her get out of his locked position and looked down at her face, a mere feet apart. "Oh, how amusing. You have a very earthen scent."
"You… what are you doing? Fight me!" She yelled.
"I am fighting," Joffrey replied smugly and leaned down to the side of Val's face and licked her pale as snow neck. "Oh, you taste wonderful too."
"You!" She wriggled the best she could, but that only made her spread legs grind against Joffrey's loins. She quickly felt something hard poking her there. "I'm not your whore, kneeler!"
Joffrey chuckled and brought his face back up, gazing at her spotless, furious face with heated desire. Without warning, he leaned down and touched her lips with his, but it wasn’t a kiss, a mere peck. "I know… You're far… far more than that, Val of the Free Folk."
Val stopped struggling and looked at his face seriously. "Is this what you wanted from the beginning? That duel… was that a…"
"Would it matter if I said yes, or if I said no?" He asked, starting to rub his groin more openly on her hidden womanhood. "The moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you. Not as a whore, but as a respected woman of my Kingsguard, the first female Knight of Westeros, and the first female Kingsguard in history."
"As a kneeler." She said, "If I give you what you want, will you give my people what they need?"
A noble sacrifice? Joffrey felt tempted, but this wasn't what he wanted. He wanted her emotional submission, not helpless surrender.
Van never realized when Joffrey freed her arms. She only felt his warm, hard yet soft hand caress her face with a delicate brush, pushing aside her braid away from her shoulder. The entire time, she stared into the young King's blue eyes, realizing he was no older than herself.
Joffrey leaned down closer, feeling her swelling flesh against his chest. "If you want me to take an oath, I cannot. What happens to the Free Folk depends on the Free Folk more than it does me. Tell me, Val, if your people cannot contain their desires, rape, and pillage around, can I rightly stop the entire Westeros—the Seven Kingdoms, from joining hands and waging a war against you?"
Val frowned, feeling naked in Joffrey's eyes despite being clothed. She had no words to refute him, "Yet you have agreed to let them in."
"I'm taking a significant risk. This can either tarnish my name or make me a King who shall be remembered for centuries to come. I want your people to assimilate into Westeros. I want the Wall to have its gates open at all times. I want your people to learn to farm, create food, and build yourselves a society that's respected, where children and women are safe from predators… You must know what I'm talking about."
"That's a sign of weakness," Val replied. "I am strong; I am a capable rider. All because I am free."
"No." Joffrey responded, "You are strong, you are fierce, you are everything you are because you knew what would have happened if Val of the Free Folk had remained docile. You are aware of your beauty, and if you were weak, you'd have birthed ten children by now, all from different men. You'd be seen as a prize, an object to be had—that's the reality you live in."
She scoffed, "Not so different from your world."
"Aye, I know vile things occur in the South. Rapes happen, murders happen, but they get punished too. All because we have rules. Women don't have to raise their swords to protect themselves. A man can be a bard, a cook, an artist, a blacksmith, or a carpenter. A society that only knows how to take can never create, Val," Joffrey said. "I want the Free Folk to learn to create."
Who am I lying to? My own grandfather has a filthy rapist as his hound. Elia and her kids… Joffrey remembered why Dorne hated the crown and the Lannisters so much, still waiting for justice.
"And how do you suppose you'll do that?" she asked, not in a taunt anymore but out of general curiosity.
Joffrey caressed her face once more, wanting to make this woman his own. He could already see people calling her the Wildling princess, and she looked like one. "Slowly and steadily. In batches, and in a controlled manner. It all depends on how well Mance can control your people. If they go berserk and pillage, they will have to be dealt with."
Val nodded, and looked left and right at the surrounding trees and the snow before glancing back at Joffrey, "What if your lords rebel against you?"
Joffrey chuckled, "Well, you will have to see for yourself. How the court works, and how the schemes play out. That's why you should come with me to King's Landing."
Val defiantly stared into his eyes and then smirked, "Win me first… if you can."
"With pleasure..." Joffrey didn't waste a moment since he was already hard. But he wanted to taste this woman first before devouring her. "My new Kingsguard."
He beckoned a little and slipped fingers of both his hands between the neckline of her tunic. With a harsh pull, he spread it apart, tearing it open along with her small clothes holding her voluptuous breasts.
With a jiggle, the two swollen hills presented themselves to Joffrey. Their texture was creamy pale, pristine, and clean, crowned by small pink round areolas and pebbled pink tips.
Both his spread palms went from under her mounds and cupped them. Her flesh spilled out between his fingers, her feathery softness beyond Joffrey's wildest dreams. He still couldn't believe this woman was a Wildling, not some highborn nobility.
"Perfect," he complimented and quickly lowered his face.
His lips widened and claimed her right globe with steaming hunger. Gobbling and suckling on a mouthful of her honey-soft flesh before slowly focusing on the tight nipple. He pressed them between his lips, rubbed them, and teethed. His other hand constantly focused on the left one, flicking the tip.
"Um." Val tried her best not to make a sound. She felt no aversion to doing this with Joffrey, but it was a matter of pride for her to not give in so soon.
Joffrey continued to give all his attention to Val's mounds, one at a time, until both looked ripe like a red apple. He kneaded them the entire time with both palms spread, while his bulge dry-humped her in an attempt to prepare her.
Once he felt his desire satiated from her mounds, he slid up and claimed her neck, leaving deep, wet kisses and gentle bites all over her flesh, slowly going higher toward her face. Finally, he arrived at her cheek and pecked there before finally reaching for her lips.
Soft, sultry, and hot. Val didn't show a hint of refusal and let him pry her lips open. She matched his tongue and played the game of tugs and rubs. Their heated breaths and fiery juices mingled and exchanged.
"Mm…" Val suddenly wrapped her arms around Joffrey's head in the middle of that wild kiss, her hips beginning to react to his dry humps as well. This was new to her. No wildling made love like this as far as she had experienced. They all went straight to play with her mounds and fuck her like savages.
Joffrey caressed her head and unbraided her hair while kissing her. She tasted like the wild scent of nature, her actions in his mouth felt amateur, and that heightened his desire. She was like a woman who had seen the world but had yet to experience it. She knew what fucking was, but now she learned what love-making was.
It was cold, and there was snow around them. But not for a moment did Joffrey feel it. Once he made her hair spread and fall around her face, he took off his tunic and then pushed his breeches down from his legs, almost completely naked.
He threw his clothes just beside Val and made her slide over to them. It was an unnecessary thing to do, but Val loved it. Seldom she had been with men who could think in the midst of a heated exchange.
"Let's get to the main part, shall we?" Joffrey said and stopped kissing her.
He sat back completely between her legs and took her beautiful form in his eyes. Her reddened peaks still glistened with his spit, and her face was ruined by the kisses.
Finally, he looked down and noticed a faint dampness around her womanhood. He smiled and pinched the woolen white breeches before forcing them apart. It was wool, and easily tore open, giving Joffrey a wide view of her ivory thighs, her hips, and the slippery rosy petals salivating for his attention.
Just above her clit, a faint trace of her blonde pubes was visible, and standing in contrast against her flesh. He liked it, and immediately pressed his rock-hard cockhead at the tight entrance.
Val smirked, "I thought kneelers had small ones."
Joffrey chuckled and nestled forward, sliding his knees further around her ass, her thighs raised on her own will. He slid in gently, savoring the sensations of the wild woman's cave of wonders. He closed his eyes and gently leaned forward, pushing in more and more of his length until he felt shrouded by her slippery warmth.
"Oh…" Val reacted to his size. She couldn't stop herself anymore. The pleasure took over her mind as her back arched up, her belly clenching tight as she spread her legs to the apex to feel more of him inside.
Joffrey finally stopped after going all the way in, planting himself whole in her slick wetness that continued to ooze more nectar. He could feel her toned muscles clenching around him, struggling to adjust to his girth.
He fell on her body and took her mounds in his mouth again before starting to pull his hips back. Slow and steady as he promised, letting her taste every bump and groove of his length with her lower lips.
After a short pause with just his tip in, he slammed right in with a savage thrust. Hard enough that her body bucked beneath him. She liked it rough, and what Joffrey gave her threw her into a rush of pleasure. He delved deeper in with each rhythmic push, fast and frantic.
With his mouth filled with her creamy flesh, he felt her move against him with each thrust. Instead of surrendering, he felt her circling movements, her hips reacting to his grounding cock, gyrating in slow circles.
This wasn’t an instinct to seek pleasure, it was a taunt from her body; a challenge for him to do more; stronger, faster, harder. To see which one of them would break first. Every clenching spasm in her loins milked him thoroughly, threatening to suck him dry.
"Seven!" Joffrey cursed, "You're amazing."
Val chuckled and spread her fingers through Joffrey's blonde hair, which had grown a little longer. She pulled him away from her mounds and claimed his mouth. Her legs, however, didn't lock around his waist and instead remained spread as far as they could.
Joffrey felt her desire and increased the tempo, burying his cock with a greed to breed. It was hypnotic, and exciting doing it in the wild—absolute wild beyond the wall.
"Ah… Mmmm…" Val moaned into his mouth and hugged his neck tight.
Joffrey penetrated her to his need and size. His breath went harsh and uneven in no time, this style of sparing much more tiring than the usual one. But he felt her shivering inhales as well, her tight walls quivering around his girth with a rising frenzy of heat.
"Aaah… You…" Val found herself clenching her teeth, pressing her lips, and breaking the kiss. Her eyes closed, trying to not show her vulnerable self.
As she approached a gasping completion, her legs finally locked around Joffrey's waist. His plundering thrusts only gained pace, yearning to hear more of her moans.
"Take my name," he demanded.
"Mmm… oh-ooo…" She breathed out. Her moans came out on their own. "J-Joffrey-ah…"
Joffrey smiled and licked her neck, her sensitivity only increasing from it. Her tight depth squeezed around him harder and shuddered with quivering spasms.
"Will you be my Kingsguard, V-Val?" He asked, feeling his own release nearing, but not yet. "Answer me…"
It started with lovemaking, but in the end, it turned into savagery. He fucked her hard and sore that even the claps that rang in that forest came back in echoes. Her juices coating him so well it took everything in him to not spill in that silk.
"Yeaaah! F-fuck… I can… mmmm-ah~" she cried at last, the glorious peak reached. Her body released all it could, spewing forth a fountain of her culmination. Her belly throbbed like waves, her entire body shuddered again and again, and the tremors of ecstasy flushed her pale, hot face.
Joffrey kept fucking her until her spasms ended, his hands tightly clenching her blonde hair.
"Let's change position," Joffrey suddenly replied and eased out of her soreness.
Joffrey caught Val's hand and pulled her up as he sat down beside a tree, his back resting against the trunk. He placed his clothes under his ass, and then towed Val to straddle his cock, facing away from him.
"What?" She felt confused as to why he wanted that, but didn't have the energy to refuse. "Ah!"
Just as she sat down, his cock entered her leaking slit once again, already swollen from his loving abuse. She felt him bury all of it in, high up, reaching the last walls of her heated core.
"Ah… I can get used to this warmth," Joffrey muttered, his face close to her ears as her back rested against his chest. Her head rested back on his shoulder as her mounds jutted out completely.
Val took a glance at the snowy forest. The sound of the breeze and distant animals made it strangely thrilling,
"Oh!"
Joffrey slid his hands under her thighs, spreading her legs wide, and lifted her ass from below. Val felt utterly helpless as her wet, pink petals were exposed so openly to the cold snow. However, that slight embarrassment was a mere fleeting thought, as Joffrey threw her back down onto his cock with the weight of her body.
The hard, plunging penetration crazed her. He struck so deep she could feel it in her cervix. Her fleshy ass slapping onto his crotch, trembling like jelly.
"Aaaah…" he did it again, and she cried in pleasure. "Ooo… Don't stop!"
He started fucking her in rhythm, his arms powerful enough to pleasure himself with her whole body, up and down with a frenzy. But she pushed one leg down to aid him, giving his other hand some freedom to touch her elsewhere.
He fondled her exposed breasts for a moment, then slid down to circle and pinch her soaked clitoris.
"Mh… yes, Joffrey…"
Joffrey smiled, "So, did I win you over?"
"Yesss~"
Her ass slapped and squelched against his lap, her juices spreading from their previous round of fucking. This one was slower, but longer and deeper. She clenched her depths on her own as if wanting to conquer the man as well.
Joffrey’s fingers continued to rub all over her clitoris with abuse, flicking, pinching, and pressing. "Will you go to King's Landing with me?"
"Yess-ah!"
"And vow to be my Kingsguard?"
"Hmm…" She nodded vigorously, eyes closed and tearing up on their own. He felt so big and reaching so deep, much more than before.
Joffrey licked her ear and neck while whispering more. His fingers brushing all over her spread petals of silky furnace, as if he found the secret key to make her yield. "Then… from now on, who does this belong to?"
"You… oooh~"
Joffrey picked up the pace, his climax almost at the tip. "As my Kingsguard, you will protect me and… let me have you whenever I want, wherever I want… only I."
Plap!—
She fell on his cock with a hard clap and spilled her second orgasm all over his straining masculinity. She exhaustingly fell back against his chest, the dreamy bliss taken over her mind. "I-mm… vow… Yess~"
With that, Joffrey claimed her heated core with mindless plunder, greedily thrusting up and flooded her deep inside. The quivering pumps came with such heated force that Val's eyes jolted open with the sudden warmth coating her insides.
Spasms after spasms, pumps after pumps, Joffrey's cock throbbed with each vibrating release of his white cream. He stopped fucking, but some still leaked around the heated petals. He waited, and rested deep inside her until he felt his breath catching up to him.
His hands fondled her breasts at the same time, waiting for his cock to fall out on its own. When it did, his load spilled out with gentle, faint leaks, but most of it remained inside.
Wildling Princess, with you, I'll take over whatever Mance builds. Joffrey thought, a plan in extreme initial stages. But a possibility nonetheless.
"Stay seated," Joffrey ordered and gently moved out from under her hips. He let her sit back against the tree instead. "I’ll conduct your Kingsguard oath right away."
Without bothering to wear his clothes, Joffrey picked up his swords and returned. He loved the sight of that defeated look on Val's face, her knees spread wide as she sat there—utterly plundered.
"Val of the Free Folk," he started, resting his sword on her naked shoulder. "Do you vow to defend your King, Joffrey I Baratheon?"
"Umm—yes." Val suddenly moved with a playful smile and shifted forward. Without a warning, she grabbed his flaccid cock and took him in her mouth, as if surrendering to him, to the man who won her.
Joffrey felt excited and continued with the vow. "Do you vow to obey the King, keep his secrets…"
The entire time she continued to lick all over his cock and balls, bringing him back to half an erection by the time he finished speaking the countless list of vows and waited for her response.
At last, Val stopped sucking him and looked up with seriousness, "I vow to do so, my King."
Joffrey nodded and threw the sword away before looking down at her face again. "In the end, I did make you kneel."
Val chuckled and grabbed his cock in a tight grip, "You won… You kneelers may call us savages, but we honor our words."
And that is all I need; More honorable fools in my ranks. Joffrey made Val stand up, despite wanting to go another round with the beauty that deserved castles and a daily hard fuck, not the wild winter of the harsh North.
He had torn her tunic and breeches, so he gave her his oversized cloak to cover herself. She was now his woman, after all, albeit just a Kingsguard officially.
"Let’s return and announce the result of your… duel," he said.
Val chuckled, punching the side of his arm, "I’ll say it."
"Very well."
####
They walked back to Craster's Keep and entered. The men there had just finished their meal.
But before they could ask any questions, Val came forward and announced loudly, "I dueled and laid with King Joffrey, and he won me with his might and muscle. I will go to King's Landing."
"..."
Does she even know what subtlety means?
Comments
Benoît Valtin
she stupid, so funny
