GOT: The Golden Lion 42 - Fire & Ice I

"So, you killed him?" Joffrey asked, holding his lawfully wedded wife in his arms, their bodies bare under the warm quilt, skin against skin, their loins steamy from their spent lust. 

Daenerys pressed her head against Joffrey's chest. She'd arrived at The Twins hours ago and spent the night with her husband. Of course, the ritual of a husband and a wife was performed first. Once both of them were exhausted, they snuggled and discussed matters. 

"You were right, Joffrey. Ser Jorah was never worthy of trust. A man who sold souls into chains to please his pampered wife. A man who served Varys, not me. You saw the truth before I did. Had I faltered… our son might not have lived."

Joffrey pulled her soft body closer; the warmth of her skin, the scent of her silvery hair was erotic. He really didn't mind having her as his wife as long as he could control her. She was more like a trophy to him. 

"When I first laid eyes on that man, I knew what he was. I'm pleased you saw it too. But enough of him—we've a matter far more pressing, Daenerys." Joffrey looked down at her dreamy face. "It's been months… and still, our son has no name."

Daenerys intently stared at his face. "Do you have anything in mind?"

Joffrey hummed, thinking for a while. "How about… Aurelion?"

"Targaryen?" She asked. 

"Both—Aurelion Baratheon-Targaryen."

"That's quite a mouthful."

"Hah! He'll inherit an empire, won’t he? The grander the name, the more it suits his station. Let the smallfolk stumble over it—reminds them where they stand without a word from us."

Normally, Daenerys was all about protecting the weak and being just. But she didn't object to Joffrey's manner. His methods worked, and they worked efficiently. That was all that mattered. He helped her secure Slaver's Bay without even being there. She couldn't wait to see what he'd do once he was directly involved. 

After a short moment, Daenerys voiced. "Aurelion… It's beautiful. I'll accept, if you promise me something."

"That is?"

"I want a daughter next."

Listening to that, Joffrey's cock twitched under the quilt. With Daenerys' leg folded on his lap, he was sure she felt it, too. Besides, he actually wanted to put another babe in her belly. That was the strategy to keep Daenerys under control. Her womb must never know emptiness, always swollen with his babe, tits full. 

"Well, I may be blessed, but I suppose we'll just keep trying until we have what we want." Joffrey pivoted towards her, face to face. "I believe we can start right away."

Smoothly, he slid over Daenerys, pushing her flat on the warm bedding. With ease, he shifted between his legs, his half-erect shaft gently teasing her soaked entrance, still sore from their previous session. 

But Daenerys welcomed him with open arms and a beautiful smile, her purple eyes bright in desperation. She raised her legs and wrapped them around his waist, her hands rubbed all over his chest. 

"Don't keep me waiting… Joffrey—aaah!"

No need to ask; he aligned his shaft and slammed in like he owned her. Her cunt had served well for his need. Her tight, rosy pussy walls clamped on him with hunger for his seed. And he was more than willing to give.

As much as she wanted. 

As many times as possible. 

####

"Your Grace."

Sitting inside the main hall of the Twins castle, Joffrey looked down at Jaime Lannister, who was kneeling towards him. The man had returned from the campaign against the Iron Islands. 

"Arise, Ser Jaime."

The blonde-haired knight rose up and looked up at Joffrey. "Your Grace, the Ironborn fleet is no more. We held our distance, just as you commanded, and rained fire with the exploding scorpions. By the time we stepped ashore, they'd already lost more than half their men."

"What of Euron Greyjoy?"

"He's dead. We don't know how, but he was somehow able to cause a storm in the sea using a horn. Luckily, I aimed the exploding scorpion right at him and obliterated him to pieces." 

It had been almost two months since Joffrey sent Jaime and Lord Redwyne to eradicate the Ironborn. He had sent an overwhelming navy with the best weapons known to mankind. Victory was already guaranteed; the question was how swift and painful it would be. 

"Where is this horn?"

"Lost at sea, Your Grace. Or perhaps obliterated with Euron when I struck him. The Iron Islands are yours, Your Grace. The seventh kingdom no longer remains Seven," Ser Jaime proclaimed with pride. "The realm no longer has to fear their raiding and pillaging."

Joffrey got up from the high chair and walked closer to Ser Jaime. Then, he pulled the man in for a quick hug. A calculated move on Joffrey's part. He valued Ser Jaime for his commanding and fighting skills, nothing else. 

"Well done, Uncle. The scribe shall record your valor." Joffrey promised and then looked at Tyrion behind him, on the side. "Uncle, ready the men. We march further North—now. But first… there are still two squids rotting in the dungeon."

Originally, the plan was to use Theon and Asha Greyjoy to take over the Iron Islands. However, Joffrey decided to instead destroy the Iron Islands and end the threat of their piracy forever. And now, he had the two Greyjoy siblings in the dungeon, useless to him.

Very soon, he arrived at the dungeons underneath the castle. The place was extremely damp and cold due to the Twins sitting at the shores of a river. The place had Golden Legion men standing as guards.

"Open it," Joffrey ordered as he stood in front of the metal door. 

Creak!

He walked inside the damp cell. The Unsullied soldiers quickly lit two torches on the walls and then stepped back to stand near the door and also guard their King. But there was no need, as Theon and Asha stood chained to the walls. Both had their hands tied above their heads and their legs, each locked with a very short chain. They couldn't move much, forget sitting. 

They'd been kept like that for days now, and they barely stood straight, dangling by the cuffs on their wrists, which had turned red and wounded already. 

"Still alive? That's surprising." Joffrey commented and walked closer to Asha Greyjoy. The woman was instantly alert and stood straight, glaring back at Joffrey, her teeth gritted. 

Joffrey let out a short chuckle and touched Asha's pale face, her sharp jaw. Then, for no reason, he spread his palm on her breasts. They were barely noticeable, not even enough to squeeze. Still, Joffrey teased her over her dirty, thin tunic. He felt her tight nipples harden. 

"House Greyjoy seems to have run out of luck," Joffrey muttered and stopped kneading her breasts, now rubbing his hand on her amazingly toned belly, the tight abs were noticeable. Seeing her, he remembered Arya from a few years ago. Only Asha was taller and older, but her body was as tight as Arya, if not more. 

Well, he'd already fucked Arya into a fine woman. Her hips and tits were more pronounced now, but still toned. 

"What do you want?" Asha growled. "I-I came to you as an ally."

"Hah! A Greyjoy? An ally? Loyalty and honor are as scarce in your blood as pillaging and raping is common to you. You’d kneel today, aye—but in a year’s time, you’d rise with a blade in hand.” Joffrey proclaimed and abruptly pushed his hand under the waistband of her tight, leg-hugging breeches. He unceremoniously squeezed his fingers down between her legs and felt her cunt, dry as a rock in the sun, pubes overgrown, but slit tight. 

"Too bad. I considered sampling the salt-born delicacy like you once. But I'm afraid this cunt has invited far too many nasty sea men. Seven knows what disease you're carrying."

It was pure humiliation. And Joffrey rather enjoyed it. Moments like these were when he could be his real self. Ruthless, animalistic, and perhaps crazy.

"Umh…" Asha felt two of his fingers rub between her petals. She couldn't squeeze her legs shut because of the chains. "Then… Then have me… I'll be your loyal woman."

Joffrey laughed at her face and probed a single finger deep inside her raw, dry cunt, spearing through the tight walls and claiming her juices inside. "So you can slit my throat on a random night? No, I rather prefer actual women—Sweet Sansa, my wife Daenerys, I have plenty of far better options."

"Then…" Asha choked, his finger making her wet. "What do you want?"

"It's simple…" Joffrey stopped fingering Asha and pulled his hand out. Her juices glistened on his fingertips. So, Joffrey stepped to the side in front of Theon and without any hint, pressed those drenched fingers on the guy's lips, pushing him to open up and lick it. Yes, he was unhinged in his actions. The closer to victory he was, the more he felt liberated. "I want you two dead—A dead enemy is a good enemy."

Done playing, Joffrey pulled out his dagger from the waist and without a second wasted, slammed the sharp tip right through Theon's chest, puncturing the heart. He did it so fast that Theon didn't even get to react. With a shocked face, he started bleeding and lost his life.

Joffrey pulled out the dagger and sidestepped towards Asha. Standing in front of her, he found the short-haired woman beautiful. But too bad, he knew she was like an ambitious man trapped in a woman's body. 

And for such ambitious fools, he had only one response. 

"Your turn, Asha."

"No! Listen p—"

Bam!

Joffrey punctured her heart, same as Theon. But he didn't turn or twist the blade in her chest. He slowly pulled it out and let her bleed, slowly losing her life. 

"W-Why… Why…?" Asha weakly murmured. 

Joffrey wiped the blade on Theon’s corpse, the smirk never leaving his lips. "Why? Because you existed, that's why. The first thing a true king does is clean his own kennel. My bloated excuse of a father forgot that. Won the Rebellion, then got drunk and lazy. This… is the course correction—Oh, you don't know? I sent the royal fleet—and the Redwynes too. The Iron Islands are cinders now. Your uncles? Dead. Your ships? Gone. And yes, Euron is dead too."

Asha's face had turned pale by then, and she eventually plopped forward. 

"Behead them." Joffrey stepped back and ordered the two Unsullied. "Hah! I saw that flinch, Asha. You think you're smart, but you're not."

Asha was acting dead; Joffrey had expected that much. But he was now thorough, never leaving his enemy's demise to fate or chance. Beheading was the best and the quickest method to kill. 

Woosh!

Moments later, two heads flew and rolled on the damp floor. 

Joffrey ignored them and returned to the main floor. It was time to head to Winterfell. 

####

Before midday, Joffrey departed The Twins. Using the Kingsroad, they headed up, soon crossing Moat Cailin. It was a multi-day journey, as Winterfell sat too deep in the North. But it was pleasant having Daenerys to spend time with, and whenever she'd fly away, he'd spend time with the other ladies—secretly, of course. 

By the time he arrived at Winterfell, the castle and the town around it had been turned into a war fortress. Winter Town had been emptied, all its smallfolk sent away to the nearby castles or towns. Currently, Winterfell housed nothing but Joffrey's army, made up of more than a hundred thousand men from all over Westeros. 

Joffrey got off his horse and made his way into the castle. He had just walked in when Tyrion came rushing towards him. Tyrion had left for Winterfell before Joffrey with a small retinue to manage the army. 

"Your Grace, a missive has come from the Wall." 

Joffrey took the folded paper and read it. His brows creased in confused fury the moment he finished reading. Then he read it again and became enraged. 

"Who sent this?" He demanded. 

"I don't know. It came with a raven." Tyrion explained, having read it already. "Who could it be, Your Grace? Could it be Mance R—"

“No, he’s not that much of a fool. There’s no glory in taking the Wall—his people gain nothing from ice and stones. But if it’s fallen to some enemy… I’ll fly north with Daenerys and her dragon to see it myself." Joffrey declared urgently and looked at his wife. "You don’t mind, do you, Daenerys?”

Daenerys shook her head. "Not at all. We should go right away."

"You shouldn't," Tyrion advised. "By the time you’ll get there, it'll be dark. Save your eyes the trouble."

"Then we leave in the morning." Joffrey decided and moved further into the castle. He had hardly any time to finalize everything. Moreover, the uncertainty ate at him. Not knowing when and where the Night King would strike worried him. 

As night descended upon the North, Winterfell was covered with torches and lanterns everywhere. The massive army was based outside the castle, forming a vast camp of tents. Inside the Winterfell castle rested the many Lords and Knights who had willingly joined the battle. But within the main keep, it was just the Starks, Joffrey, Daenerys, and his Kingsguards. 

Joffrey finished his meal quickly and busied himself, maintaining distance from Daenerys as he had an important task planned beforehand. A promise that he had to keep. He met with the Lords, the Knights, and Ser Arthur to keep the army ready to react at any moment. 

He told Daenerys to focus on arming Drogon, who they planned to fly the next day. Once midnight approached, Joffrey slipped through secret pathways and entered the Stark crypts beneath Winterfell. 

Through the old and heavy ironwood door, he entered the brightly lit and fragrant underground crypt. It was normally dark and damp, but that night, something had been planned there. As he walked deeper, he found a bedding made on the floor itself with many candles placed nearby. 

Beside the bedding, leaning against the wall, stood Val, arms crossed, her beautiful, honey-blonde locks made in a single, thick braid, reaching to her waist. She'd discarded her armor, which was stacked not far away. Just in her regular, loose tunic and breeches, she looked rather stunning. Even more so as her feminine curves were on display, those voluptuous breasts making twin hills, her fleshy legs leading up to her amazing hips. 

"I was starting to question if you forgot about me, my king of kneelers," Val purred and strolled towards her conqueror. 

Joffrey chuckled and, cherishing, welcomed her in his arms, both his hands warmly wrapping around her hourglass waist. From so close, he relished her beautiful face, those full lips, that glistening skin, and her big eyes. "Can't let the king's words be dishonored now, Val. I vowed to give you my seed, and here I am."

"Umm… Do give me plenty, Your Grace. I hope you'll last till daylight." 

Chuckling, Joffrey reached lower behind her and gripped her amazing asscheeks, pulling her body tighter against him. "Worry about yourself, Val—You won't be walking come morning."

"Oh? I can't wait…" Val neared her lips to his and softly kissed him for a quick peck. "Give me your seed, Your Grace. Put a babe in me… breed me, own me, as you do—claim your right as you have earned—ah!"

It was too much for Joffrey. Just listening to her stirred the wild creature hiding inside him. It was true, he'd won Val fairly, and she was his to do as pleased. But he never bred her out of respect, but now… she was asking for it. 

"Shh… I only want to hear your moans." Joffrey declared and kissed her with uncontrolled heat. 

Joffrey shoved her into the wall, lips crashing down on hers with possessive hunger. His body pinned her on the cold surface. His one hand shot up, capturing both her wrists and slamming them above her head, locking them there like a beast restraining its prey. His other hand gripped her throat, hard enough to make her breath choke. He kissed her like a man starving, devouring, biting, owning her hot mouth.

Val moaned right into his mouth, sounding desperate and shameless. Her legs trembled slightly, but her hips ground against him, seeking friction. “Yesss! Umhphhh~~ That’s it… claim your Wildling… isn’t that who I am?”

Her answer only ignited the fire in him. Joffrey growled into her mouth, his grip on her throat tightening as he deepened the kiss. 

She kissed back like a woman possessed, sucking his tongue into her mouth, lathering it with wet heat, like she was already practicing for his cock. Her wrists twisted helplessly in his hold, but she didn’t pull away. She offered herself further, leaning into his choking hand.

With hunger already burning in his belly, Joffrey yanked up her tunic and threw it to the ground, exposing her divine figure. Her upper smallclothes were next, ripped clean apart with one harsh tug. Those pale, majestic tits came out, flushed and heaving. 

His mouth latched on to a tit instantly, dragging his tongue over her tight pink buds, his teeth tugging one while his fingers pinched the other. 

She arched into him, fingers tangled in his golden hair, whispering needy gasps against his temple. Her chest heaved towards him eagerly, more and more, begging for more attention, needing him, wanting him to claim her entirely.

His hand slid down, slipping into her breeches and between her legs. One finger found her slit; wet, warm, and dripping for him. He didn’t tease, he didn’t need to. He plunged a finger in deep, then two, feeling how ready she was, drenched to the core. 

“You’re soaked already,” he sneered, pulling back to look at her flushed face. “Needy little wildling.”

Val merely grinned and moaned louder, hips grinding into his hand like she wanted to milk his fingers. Her sticky, wet juices came out every time his fingers pulled out and plunged back in.

When he’d had enough. He shoved her breeches down in one swift move, and she stepped out of them like a woman shedding civility. His own trousers dropped next, and out sprang his thick cock, veiny and solid, the swollen head slick with precum. 

Val’s eyes locked on him, hungry, and she started to lower herself.

“No,” Joffrey snarled. He grabbed her by the blonde braid and spun her around, pushing her hard toward the cold wall. She whimpered in delight as he pushed her upper body down, her cheek mashed against the rough stone. Her back arched, her ass perked up high, and her legs spread in a primal offering.

“I’ll claim you, Val… like the wildling whore you are.”

"Yesss!" She screamed in excitement. She wriggled her hips, making her ass jiggle just for him, her pussy glistening, dripping, begging to be filled. “Take me!”

Joffrey took a moment to admire the view. Her perfect ass raised for him, her twitching pussy glossy with thirst, practically pulsing. He ran his hand over one tight asscheek, then pressed his thumb along her puckered rear entrance, teasing it before slapping her ass hard enough to echo in the chamber.

“Ahh~” She cried out, but it wasn’t pain, it sounded worshiping and spoiling. Her body twitched from the strike, but she pushed her ass back harder.

"Like this? Or harder?"

“More! Anything… everything… Take me!” Val cried out in pure lust, wild and greedy.

Pa!

Pa!

The sharp slap echoed, then another, and another. Her ass rippled with each impact, cheeks turning a glowing, stinging red. Her toes and slender legs tilting her ass up for him more and more.

Then Joffrey gripped his cock and, with no warning, slammed it all the way in. Her soaking cunt welcomed him greedily, but she wasn’t stretched enough. Her sopping walls clamped down hard, fluttering in protest, struggling to make room for the thick, veiny beast now buried to the hilt. 

“Aaaaah! Fuck! Oh… That’s it! Ruin me!” A raw scream tore from her throat, back arching, toes curling as her body trembled from the brutal stretch. Her body jerked forward, her forehead almost smacking the stone. 

That raw desperation in her moans made him lose it. The rougher she wanted it, the harder he gave it. And he loved every moment of it.

"I'm just staring, my Val."

Buried deep to the hilt, his hand seized her thick braid. He twisted it tight around his knuckles and yanked her head back. Like reins on a prized beast, he used it to control her, pulling her back into every brutal thrust.

“Yesh~” Her tongue lolled out, her voice slurring between wet gasps and needy groans. Her cunt clung tight to him, dripping, pulsing, stretching wider each time his thick cock speared her raw. She moaned like a whore in heat, drool trailing from her lips. 

“Aaah… nghhh… Yesshh…”

She mumbled nonstop, drool stringing from the corner of her lips as her eyes rolled back in cock-drunk delirium. One hand slapped against the wall for balance, but it didn’t help. He slammed in to the hilt, thrusting against her cervix with brute force. The impact made her jolt to her toes, her pussy clamping hard around him. It felt like he’d fucked straight into her womb.

Up on her toes, her cries sharpened. He was battering her womb, splitting her open. “Fuuuck… y-you’re a brute… yes! Breed me! Put your babe in my womb… as many—eh!—times… oh!”

Joffrey leaned forward, his cock buried deep, still pulling her head back by her braid. Their mouths crashed. Teeth, tongue, moans mixing together in chaotic lust. Her lips clung to his like she was starved for him, her whimpers swallowed between every messy kiss. All the while, his hips kept plowing, stuffing her full with every little motion.

“Ah—fuck, Val…”

“Aaaahh! My King—nghhh! Yes!”

Their release crashed into them like a wave breaking on stone. 

Val’s cunt spasmed around him, her insides clenching in desperate pulses, milking his cock for every drop. Her body jerked under him, overcome by pleasure so raw it left her mind blank. Her pussy gushed around his cock. Slick juices spilled out in a nasty mess, squirting with every convulsion, her walls gripping him like they never wanted to let go.

Joffrey snarled through gritted teeth as his cock twitched, then erupted. Thick, molten spurts shooting straight into her gripping womb. 

Her back arched violently, her scream torn from her throat, lips trembling as she felt it. Hot, heavy loads poured into her cunt like it was made for her. He didn’t stop. He kept pumping through the flood, grinding deep, stuffing her to the brim until his seed leaked from her battered hole in slow, creamy splotches. 

Panting, he finally pulled out, a string of his cum stretching from her drooling slit to his cockhead. 

Val, aching to rest her legs, collapsed onto the bedding nearby, body twitching, thighs sticky and trembling. 

But Joffrey wasn’t done. He climbed over her, eyes locked on her leaking pussy, glistening and red from abuse. His hands gripped under her thighs and pushed up; folding her in half until her knees pressed into her shoulders. Her back curved, ass lifted, cunt tilted up.

Keeping her legs pressed up, he leaned over her and kissed her lips, slow, wet, claiming. He then shifted his grip up from her thighs to her ankles and shoved them higher. Her feet touched beside her ears, her entire body folded so tight her ass lifted clean off the bedding. Yet willingly, she wrapped her arms around her legs, holding herself open like a gift.

Val’s whole body quivered, aching but desperate, ruined yet begging for more. She could feel his cockhead nudging at her leaking entrance, already eager. Her pussy gaped and twitched, as if kissing his glistening cock head, begging for him to come in.

Joffrey smirked. Maester Qyburn's potions were truly magical, he could keep his cock up all night. 

“Do it…” she whimpered, voice a soft tremble of filthy need. “I surrender… my womb to you… my conqueror, my King… my only love…”

That stirred something warm in Joffrey's senile heart. At that moment, he wanted no other woman but Val. She was his. His woman. His lover. His slave. His whore.

He lined up once again at her sore slit and instantly slammed in from above. 

Squelch! 

Her battered hole cried out around him, juices gushing in a messy burp as he speared in, to the root.

“Aaaaaah! D-Don’t stop… Give me all of it!”

Folded like a ragdoll in full mating press, Val’s body was twisted beautifully, feet beside her ears, arms hugging her own legs. She looked obscene, worshipful, wholly offered. And Joffrey, like a conqueror granted divine right, went a step further.

He wrapped one palm tightly around her throat, choking her gently. Her breath hitched. His cock slammed back in, deep and brutal. He began to fuck her like he meant to breed her soul out of existence, his hips pistoning without mercy.

Wet slaps echoed, his heavy balls slapping on her ass with each thrust, like a drumbeat to their debauchery. Each thrust struck her womb, every plunge a demand. No holding back, no tenderness, just raw, purposeful fucking. 

She screamed into the pressure on her neck, delirious, lost. “F-fill me again… ah—fuck—don’t stop, my king… Make sure it takes this time, make me swell with your royal brat!”

Her ass jolted and bounced like a spring under his weight, each downward slam knocking her into the bedding. Her folded limbs trembled, joints burning. The folded legs made her sore already, her entire body aching as if she had just trained in the arena for days. She was soaked in sweat, hair strands stuck to her face, her back slick.

He choked her harder, watching the color bloom across her cheeks. 

"Yes-hhhh…" She moaned with a rasped whimper, yet still smiled, eyes glassy from bliss. This was Val, savage and aching, loving the punishment.

She came again and again, losing count. Her pussy convulsing, kneading his cock, hungry. Joffrey growled, fucking deeper, rougher, until he could no longer hold back.

With a savage grunt, Joffrey rammed in and unloaded again. Thick white ropes surging out, splashing her insides with heat, spurting right against her cervix. He grinded down harder, churning her pussy, making sure his seeds were shoved in deep, taking home in her fertile womb.

She felt the first thick burst, warm and silky. She gasped as her legs were freed, then wrapped them tight around his waist, heels pressing into his back, holding him deep. She wanted every drop inside her. She needed it, hoping for the blessing of a babe. 

More ropes followed, wet, sticky, messy. He kissed her then, slow and panting, brushing the soaked hair from her beautiful, flushed face. She was radiant, full of his royal seed, and if the gods willed it, carrying his child. Her place in his life was permanent now. There would be no bastards.

“T-thank you… Your Grace,” she whispered, blissfully drunk.

Joffrey smirked. “Already? But I’m merely starting.”

He sat back, pulling out. Her abused cunt throbbed and gaped, leaking his creamy load. His cock glistened and it was still hard. 

“Hands and knees, quick,” he ordered.

“W-what?” Val’s eyes widened at his stamina. Her body was wrecked, but craving more, moving on all fours without even thinking. “R-really?”

Pa!

His wide palm met her ass, sharp and final. He rubbed his thumb over her other hole, slow and insistent, spreading their culmination over the star-shaped entrance.

“You asked for it, Val. This night’s not over until I’ve claimed all of you. And yes…” His thumb pushed gently on her anal hole. “This, too.”

"Oh!"

For the first time, Val faltered. Maybe she wasn’t as wild as she thought, but it thrilled her to no end. But she still submitted. Her face pressed into the bedding, arms reaching back, spreading her own flawless asscheeks, giving him a clean view of her beautiful, twin entrances, glistening and open. The shameless display of a wild woman in heat, ready for every inch. 

"However you please… take me!"

Joffrey licked his lips, cock throbbing with endless hunger. 

I am a blessed man.

That was all Joffrey had to say before he dipped back inside her cunt, warm and soaked like honey. 

This was it… Val was now permanent. 

####

At the first light of the morning, Joffrey covered himself in multiple layers of clothes, a cloak, and fur to fight the cold North. Then, with Daenerys, he mounted Drogon's custom saddle. Daenerys had clearly worked a lot, as the saddle had space for two.

"Hold tight." Daenerys prepared to take off. 

Joffrey wrapped his arms around her slender waist right away, squeezing her hard. "No need to tell me that."

Chuckling, she ordered Drogon in Valyrian. Soon, the magnificent beast spread its wings wide, earning the awe of every man and woman around. Then, it jumped into the sky and flapped its wings, the wind generated enough force to have the bystanders lose balance. 

Then, with a loud growl, the dragon soared into the sky. King's Landing had already seen the dragon once; this was the first for the North, however. 

Not too high, they flew under the clouds to ensure they could look at the situation below. The Kingsroad had a lot of travelers, even more now as the wildlings had settled up north near Queenscrown. 

"Stay alert," Joffrey advised, having seen the vision years ago. The last thing he wanted was for the Night King to gain a dragon. Moreover, he had tried his best to prepare her for it. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion now had personalized armor. The massive plates of steel covered their necks and underbellies, protecting their most vulnerable parts. It was easy to build in Meereen as too many freed slaves needed work. 

What should have taken them a few days on horseback only took hours on a dragon. Joffrey really liked this mode of transport. More than their fire breathing, he saw them as great steeds. 

"Fly slow," Joffrey ordered as they finally flew over the massive settlement of wildlings ruled by Mance Rayder. The huge tents spewed smoke while men and women covered in thick fur roamed. Buildings were being built, slowly, a real town or perhaps city was taking shape there. The Giants, with their large Mammoths, were great tools for construction. 

Daenerys also gazed at the settlement. They were wildlings, and they were south of the wall. She understood why her royal husband made such a decision. "They don't seem affected at all."

"That's what confuses me. Who took over the wall?" Joffrey murmured, "Keep heading towards Castle Black."

Crossing into the region called Brandon's Gift, they flew over Mole's Town. Unlike the wildling camp, the town showed signs of life. No steam came out of the chimneys. No people walking around. 

Joffrey felt an ominous premonition. His left hand instinctively went for his sword's hilt. This was entirely uncharted territory to him. From the moment he decided to stand against the Tyrells and kill them, all the knowledge he had about Westeros of the future became redundant. 

"It feels much colder," Daenerys muttered and pushed her back against Joffrey's chest. "Is this normal?"

"I have no idea." Joffrey embraced her in his warmth while looking below. Castle Black was very close, already in view. Even the massive, 700-feet-high wall was also visible. It stood like an icy mountain in the distance, and this was his first time looking at it. Same for Daenerys. 

"Humans made this?" Daenerys murmured in complete awe. 

No human can make this. Joffrey thought. But again, knowing that his own life was a magical feat, the Wall didn't seem that impossible. 

Soon enough, Drogon started to hover above Castle Black in circles. Joffrey looked down and found not a single soul present. Even the top of the Wall was left unguarded where the platform to look below was situated. Furthermore, he noticed that the gate of the passage through the wall was left open. 

"Fly past the Wall and circle back. I want to know if the gate’s open on that side too."

Sensing seriousness in his voice, Daenerys controlled her steed masterfully. The cold air was piercing now, making them feel as if their faces were freezing. 

Joffrey couldn't stop having that dreadful feeling. He felt something was wrong. As if his instincts screamed at him to leave as quickly as possible. But he couldn't afford to leave without answers. 

"It's open!" Joffrey exclaimed at the sight from the other side. This was utterly alarming. 

They circled back to Castle Black and continued to hover above it to find any clues. They spent almost an hour there, looking for any hint. But the entire castle seemed as if nobody ever lived there. No humans, no dead bodies, no dead animals. 

It can't be helped. Even if this is a trap, I can't let them have a dragon. 

"Daenerys, set me down in the castle yard—then fly. The moment my boots touch the ground, you turn that beast around and soar. If they kill your dragon, they'll raise it as a cursed undead. I won’t say it twice—do not come near, no matter what happens. If things go foul, fly to Winterfell. Warn them. Leave me—I carry the favor of the Seven."

Daenerys' heart sank, and her face turned a tinge bit paler. She didn't like the ominous warning or the threat that Drogon might get turned into a wraith. "We can return with the army."

"It’s no use if they’ve already marched South. I need to know how far they've come, Daenerys. Gods forbid they’re near Winterfell. Now do as I command—and trust me. I carry fire on my blade."

Despite not wanting to, she brought Drogon down to the large, muddy yard. 

Joffrey took no risks and moved swiftly. As soon as Drogon's claws were on the ground, he moved to one side of the saddle, using only the stirrups to remain standing. He looked at Daenerys's face up close, worry etched in her eyes. 

"Please don't die, Joff." Daenerys pleaded and kissed him softly. 

"I won't. But you must do as I say—Do not come closer if something happens." 

Woosh!

Finally, he slid down the side of Drogon's large, scaly belly and then landed on his feet. He unsheathed his sword right away and watched Daenerys take off back into the sky. She circled Castle Black from a reasonable distance, but it was still anxiety-inducing. The Night King could still take Drogon down from that height, he reckoned. 

With the dragon away, Castle Black was eerily silent. The air was gentle but still loud. The chill he felt was something beyond mere cold. He was scared, anxious, but he put on a brave face and gripped his sharp blade high, ready to slice whatever came his way. 

Careful, his senses sharp, he walked around the castle outdoors first in search of clues. 

Dagger?

Soon, he found a dagger in the snowy mud. It was left there, sheathed, as if it fell from someone's belt. 

He walked further but found nothing else. So, he set his sights on the largest building and began climbing the creaking stairs. 

Creak!

Finally, he pushed the door open. It was completely dark inside, so he summoned the flames on the sword with ease. Then, with slow steps, he walked inside. The place looked like a large hall with tables and benches.

He walked further into the hall and soon looked at the elevated stage where the Lord Commander probably sat to eat. 

But then he noticed something and froze. 

"You! Where is everyone?"

A man sat on the Lord Commander's chair, face down on the table, arms covering his head, as if sleeping. 

"Speak! I command you as your king!" Joffrey raised his sword toward the table while maintaining distance. 

He looks like a Knight's Watch man. Joffrey recognised the black robes and cloak. 

"Hmm?" 

Finally, the lone man moved and sat up straight. His face was as pale as the snow, a stubble beard on his chin, his hair curly black. 

Joffrey recognized him right away. "Jon Snow?!" 

"I was waiting for you." Jon's cold, monotonous voice reverberated in the empty hall. "This meeting was fated—Prophecy stealer."

Joffrey frowned, his stance ready to battle. That was also when he noticed Jon Snow's eyes. They looked blue, unnaturally shining blue. And they reminded him of his vision from years ago. 

"You're a wraith, aren't you?" He questioned, his grip on the sword turning sweaty. He tried to retreat his steps slowly; being in that closed space was suffocating. 

Jon Snow abruptly stood up, pushing the chair back. His eyes glared up at Joffrey, and then the words came. 

"This second life of yours—It was to be mine!"

What?

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A/N: This is the 2nd last chapter of this story. I wanted to post both last chapters together, but some work is still left on the last one.

The last chapter of this fic will be posted tomorrow.