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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