The 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 brunet 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 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.
___________________
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