Joffrey thrust harder, each making a ripple across her asscheeks and jiggled her breasts. The bed creaked with their rhythm, and her moans filled the room. Yet, the thrusting smacks and the squelches came out even louder.
Very soon, Joffrey felt the tremors inside her. Her tight convulsions squeezed him. He kept going at it to aid her release. At the end of the day, he cherished Val, so he released her hair and let her fall face-first on the pillow.
That raised her ass higher, so he slammed in harder and deeper to the limit. Her squirming climax soon followed, and the sweet sweet nectar drizzled everywhere inside her and around his girth. With his thrusts, it gushed out and turned into a frothy mess.
He was also close as the insane, scorching tightness had made him sore. After so much thrusting inside her, fatigue had finally appeared.
He clasped her asscheeks with both hands and squeezed them tight. He kneaded them as the itching spasms arose. He flexed himself inside her and bucked hard and at last spread forth a final thrust deep to her cervix. There, he squeezed himself out dry. More watery than the first time, but much more in quantity.
The white royal seeds filled her instantly.
"Ugh!" Joffrey tried to shove himself in harder as the climax was insane. Feeling that liquid mess travel through his pipe and spill inside her was a matter of pride. Half of the realm talked about her, and half of the realm lusted after her, if not felt jealous of her beauty.
A true Wildling princess.
A Wildling princess for him to bed and breed whenever he desired.
What a life it was.
"There you go." Joffrey finally fell on her back, pressing her underneath himself. His length slipped out at the same time, continuing to make a mess between her tightly straightened legs.
He kissed the back of her neck and then shifted slightly to her shoulders. Her face was also turned sideways, so he kissed her lips for a quick peck. The satisfied look on her face was a great pride booster for him.
"Y-You haven't lost it yet… King of kneelers." She murmured tiredly. "It was a good fuck."
"It was." Joffrey finally got off her entirely and rested beside her body. He soon held Val in his arms as she hugged him from the side, one leg already pressed on his calmed shaft.
"Joffrey, have you ever thought about what our sons and daughters would look like?" She asked suddenly. It was a strange question since she had never talked about that before.
Joffrey hummed. "Tall, beautiful, strong, and absolutely cunning—definitely blonde."
Val exhaled with a chuckle and nestled her face below Joffrey's chin. "No doubt about blonde."
"Why? You want children?" Joffrey asked her seriously. "I suppose I don't mind. But know this: you must abandon the Kingsguard and reside in Winterfell until the babe is born."
There was a moment of silence before her answer. "No, I can wait."
"Once the White Walkers are dealt with, I'll give you what you want. One in your belly, then another soon after. I expect three—golden-haired, perfect heirs. They'll grow to be lords of some houses." Joffrey painted a beautiful picture.
Val frowned. "Lords? Won't they be bastards?"
"No child of mine will ever be called a bastard. I put it in your belly, so it's mine." Joffrey proclaimed, a rare show of intimate emotions from his usual calculative mind. "I can't promise the throne, but I'll make them lords and ladies."
"How? There aren't many empty places left."
"Hah! Oh, Val. You still don't get me?" Joffrey laughed at that and kissed her forehead. "I'll simply exterminate a few houses and build anew."
Val fell silent and just nodded.
Indeed, that fit Joffrey so well. The Freys were already gone, and so were the Tyrells. She prayed for peace in the afterlife for whoever was to come next.
####
Lys the Lovely, one of the nine Free Cities of Essos. It was small, sitting clung to rocks surrounded by stormy seas. That made the city harder to invade and attack, as nature was their protector.
The city was protected by high walls and hired sellswords. But how much could the sellswords do in a society that considered trade more honorable than arms? As soon as the sellswords fell, there was nothing left to stop the invasion.
Joffrey didn't send his Golden Legion to attack Lys. Nor did he send more than two captains to oversee things. The Redwyne fleet had brought some Wildlings for the sacrifice. Lannister's navy, the Crown's navy, and soldiers from the same participated.
Joined together, the three navies combined to form perhaps the world's largest naval fleet. And unlike the merchant fleets, theirs was ready for war.
As the night approached Lys, the Westerosi ships reached the shore of Lys. The city's loud bells rang right away as the guards on the walls saw the intruders. But that was all that happened. The soldiers never fired an arrow or threw burning oil as Joffrey's 50,000-strong army marched at the gates.
Soon after, the gates opened up as if to welcome them. There wasn't a single sellsword there to stop Joffrey's army. Who opened the door was unknown too. The only thing the commanders knew was that King Joffrey had arranged for everything.
Their job was to simply enter the city and claim it peacefully. No raping, no pillaging, no mass violence. Lys was to be the Crown's territory, after all.
The army swept through all the streets, gathering the sellswords and any other enemy with a weapon. But when they arrived at the massive mansions, and the Conclave of magisters, to their shock, all the proud magisters were already dead.
Some fuming poison from their mouths. Some with their throats slit. Who did it? When did that happen? Any knights or Lords that participated in that easy campaign were left frightened by the King's reach.
"Gather the ledgers! Gather the servants of Magisters! By morning, the city must fly the King's flag!"
With that, the city's bells stopped ringing as if nothing had transpired.
####
At the same time, Tyrosh was slightly more challenging to conquer. It was a fortress city protected by high walls. It was far larger than the shadow city of Sunsper. On top of that, the city had a large fleet.
Yet, what could one do when the invasion began from inside the city? Only the sellswords guarding the city walls needed to be dealt with, and the rest was up to the invading army to conquer.
Tyroshi nature—boisterous, flamboyant, and greedy—made it easier to entice the sellswords with the lure of a feast and lots of wine. Far more potent with additives combined. By the time the sellswords returned to their positions, their minds were numb, and their senses dull.
No one realized when the small boats landed at their shore and a massive army approached the city gates. Then, as soon as the gates opened, the massacre ensued. This time Joffrey's army had to fight for victory.
But it was easy as sellswords held no loyalty to Tyrosh. As soon as they saw themselves being overwhelmed, they all retreated and tried to run. Of course, none was spared even then. Not even the bells could ring in the city.
It didn't take long before the army reached the residence of Archon of Tyrosh. The man was slaughtered, beheaded, and packed to be sent back for Joffrey to see. Following that, the conclave of the wealthiest and the nobles was targeted. Before killing them, each one was offered a lifeline if they gave away their wealth.
Sadly for them, no amount of wealth was enough for Joffrey. He wanted them dead from the beginning. He had a plan on how to run the two Free Cities and that involved change.
####
Knock! Knock!
Joffrey opened his eyes annoyedly and looked towards the door. It was late, just a few hours before dawn.
Knock! Knock!
"What happened?" Joffrey finally moved, gently sliding away Arya's bare frame that was hugging him.
He quickly wore his breeches and walked up to the door. He didn't care if anyone saw the King sleeping with Arya. At that point, her moans were the talk of legends.
It was Ser Arthur beyond the door.
"This better be important."
"It's done, Your Grace. Lys and Tyrosh have fallen," Ser Arthur announced. "The Baratheon flag flies high."
______________________
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