GOT: The Golden Lion 43 - Fire & Ice II 

Joffrey bolted for the door. The last thing he wanted was to fight inside that hall. Jon was a shorter man, and the place was advantageous to him. 

Bam!

He jumped down the last few stairs and then quickly stood ready in the large yard. He watched Jon Snow, or whatever he was now, calmly walk down and approach him. Eventually, Jon also unsheathed his blade. 

"Wraaaa!"

In the sky, Drogon's roar echoed. Daenerys had likely seen the situation. And she reacted fast, diving straight down towards Jon Snow. 

But Jon was smart even in that state. He rushed towards Joffrey at full speed, sword drawn, raised high and ready to strike. 

Clank!

Joffrey blocked the attack and pushed back. By then, Drogon also stopped diving and flew back up. He understood what Jon was doing. As long as Jon remained close beside him, Daenerys wouldn't use dragon fire.

"I saw it through his eyes. It was you who did it! It was you behind everything!" Jon Snow roared and went berserk with his sword strikes. His swings were fast, precise, and strong, with his footwork so efficient that Joffrey had to take a few steps back to keep himself safe. "You killed them... Lord Stark, Robb, Brandon, Rickard—you!"

"Not Robb." Joffrey reacted with a smirk and fought back. Years of training were for this, and he was no dumb kid from the start. He remembered the first time he was in Winterfell years ago. Even then, he was taller than Robb and almost defeated him despite being two years younger. 

Now, he was in his prime. Trained by the best of swordsmen in the realm. 

"Haaaa!" Jon roared and stabbed forward towards Joffrey's chest. 

Clank!

Joffrey slapped his sword sideways and deflected Jon's blade, but continuing the momentum, he slammed the butt of his hilt on Jon's cold, wraith-like face. "Don't tell me you're going to cry now. You should just die. I'm taking good care of Sansa, Arya, and Catelyn, even Ygritte."

"You're a monster!" Jon lunged recklessly as if pain simply didn't register in his mind. "It was you all along behind everything… I will kill you!"

Who told him everything? Night King? 

Joffrey knew one thing for certain. Jon had to be killed right there and then. 

"Is that why you stand with the Night King? I don't even know what creature you've become, but you're certainly no ally to the living." Joffrey surged ahead and overpowered Jon Snow. His flaming blade posed a greater threat to Jon. 

"I brought peace to the realm—me! Your grim little stares won’t change that. Ha!"

Left, right, stab, Joffrey gave Jon a barrage of his blazing sword. He knew Jon had to be careful, as even the slightest cut was risky. However, Joffrey was unsure if Jon was a White Walker. The eyes and the facial features hinted at that, but Jon still looked too human. 

Woosh!

Joffrey took a daring step forward, closer into Jon's range, and almost cut Jon's face. But Jon was quick to duck and roll back away from Joffrey. 

"Why? Scared of fire and Valyrian steel?" Joffrey taunted him. 

Sadly, he cursed his mouth a moment later. Jon raised his arms wide, and almost magically, the air started to feel colder, denser, and depressing. Then a strange rustling sound came, slowly growing stronger, then finally…

Shh…!

A skeleton arm jutted out of the dirt. Then more, and soon there were almost a hundred of those skeleton arms. They dug more and pulled out the rest of their bodies. 

"Wraits!" Joffrey sneered. 

The wraiths didn't all look fully decomposed. Some had black cloaks on them. Clearly, they were the men of the Night's Watch. 

"You die today, Joffrey." Jon declared. 

Fuck! I'm no god. A dozen I can take, but a hundred… Seven hel—Wait!

Just then, Joffrey remembered the blessings the Seven had given him. What were they even about? Were they meaningless? He'd never felt anything after that orb of light had entered his body. At least R'hllor gave him the fire. What did the Seven give?

Seven! Warrior? Stranger? Where are you? Didn't we have an agreement?

Shhh…!

The sword sizzled. Joffrey glared at the wraiths that surrounded Jon now. They didn't hold any swords and looked rather harmless. But their numbers were their strength. They could just pounce on him and bury him under their weight while ripping him apart piece by piece. 

At last, Jon Snow raised his sword high and sent the wraiths rushing towards Joffrey. All one hundred of them. They growled somehow, and they stumbled. Some even broke apart in pieces but still kept crawling towards Joffrey. 

Even R'hllor was bett—

As if his taunts had worked, he suddenly felt warm all over. As if someone had embraced him from behind. Then, he felt a grip on his wrist, like someone was trying to guide his hand. Slowly, he felt covered with those different sensations—strength, mastery of the blade, courage, wisdom, desire to protect, desire to conquer, and… desire to kill. 

It felt as if all of the seven gods descended in their astral form and shrouded his body in their magic. It wasn't overwhelming. It didn't make him feel invincible. But it made him confident in his next moves. He knew he was doing the right thing before even flinching. 

It became clear then. The Seven didn't give him magic like R'hllor, but they gave him guidance and experience. 

"Let's see who kills who, Jon. Besides, I think you forgot something." Joffrey smirked, crouching slightly and then jumping backward like a spring. 

Woosh!

"Wraaaaa!"

Shhhhhh~

Right then, Daenerys dove down with Drogon, fire spewing from the dragon's jaws. In an instant, more than half of the wraiths rushing towards Joffrey were burned to ashes. It was instant death. 

Joffrey took advantage of the smoke and rushed forward. 

Clank!

He struck down the leftover wraiths and killed them with ease. Fire combined with Valyrian steel was magical. They disintegrated as soon as he'd slash at them. One after another, the extra, phantom arm of who he reckoned was the Warrior, guided him with utmost precision. 

Not a moment wasted. 

Clank!

Clank!

Finally, after making his way through the wraiths, Joffrey reached Jon Snow and clashed with him. He was different now, however. While Jon had more real-life fighting experience, Joffrey had the actual Warrior guiding his moves. 

"Haaaa!" Joffrey roared and blocked every attack, followed by his counter. Just one. He needed just one good hit to end it all. He didn't have too much time before the remaining wraiths would surround him. 

Clink!

Sparks flew where the steel met. With combos, downward strikes, Joffrey used his greater height to make Jon step back. 

"You should've stayed dead, Jon!" Joffrey rumbled, his arms moving on their own. At his rushed pace, Jon was reduced to constant defense. 

Clash!

Clank!

Again and again, Joffrey finally pushed Jon to his knees after a constant barrage of strikes. His sword was heavier, larger, and burning in flames. It was everything that Jon couldn't touch. 

"Stay the fuck down! Ha! Ha!"

As if his sword was an ax, Joffrey smashed at Jon below. 

The dead bastard had his blade held flat in two hands, trying to block Joffrey's attacks. Jon's face held no expressions of fear, anger, or any emotions. That was enough to tell what it really was. 

"Haaa!"

At last, Jon's sword couldn't take it anymore and started cracking. 

"Haaa!"

Joffrey struck right there and finally…

Clank!

"Got you!"

As soon as Jon's sword broke apart, Joffrey stabbed downward on Jon's chest and pierced through easily. He didn't know if there was a beating heart in there, but he still did it to be sure. 

Joffrey felt the blade slide into the frozen flesh. It didn't feel human or alive, it resembled ice more than flesh. His sword was still burning, so the fire spread around and covered Jon's fur cloak, eventually covering his entire body. Yet Jon didn't squirm in pain. 

"You… won't win…" 

Joffrey scoffed at that comment.

"You were never truly alive, Jon," Joffrey said with a sneer, watching faint cracks creep across Jon’s face. His voice dropped to a mockery of pity. "It may have been your prophecy once. But it belongs to me now—and I intend to wear it like a crown."

Joffrey twisted his blade and pulled it out. The blue, bright spark vanished from Jon's eyes as the cracks grew too large and the fire consumed him. In no time, his body turned into ashes, and so did the remaining wraiths around him. 

So he did create the Wraiths. 

The eerie calm once again returned. Joffrey doused the flames on his sword and looked around. Then he looked towards the South, in the direction of Winterfell. 

Jon must have been the distraction. 

If that was the case, Joffrey assumed that the Night King feared him. 

Finally, he looked back up in the sky and sighed. Daenerys was still there, flying in circles. She'd disobeyed him and remained behind. While it bothered him, he considered it the right decision. Without her, going back south as quickly as possible would have been an issue. 

Let's hurry back. 

Joffrey waved towards the sky and called for Daenerys. 

Wait!

Right then, he felt the hairs on his nape stand on end. He remembered something extremely important. The very reason why he'd allowed the Wildlings to come south. It was meant to be a major blow to the Night King and his army of wraiths. 

"The Wildling settlement!"

####

Mance Rayder saw the dragon fly North. He saw the silhouette of a blonde man with an ashen-haired woman. It was easy for him to guess who the people were. He'd been kept informed about the Southern happenings over the years. 

Truly, he had never expected King Joffrey's words to be honored so well. Given land to settle in the South. Given aid to set up farming, and then grains to sustain themselves for the first few months. He believed his decision to make the deal with King Joffrey was the best decision of his life. 

The more he learned about King Joffrey's exploits, the more he firmly believed in him. Marrying the Mother of Dragons. Conquering Lys and Tyrosh. Ruthlessly destroying a Great House like the Tyrells. Creating a prosperous and unified society. Now, he heard that the Iron Islands were destroyed, reducing the Seven Kingdoms to just six. 

By now, not just him but every man and woman in his settlement believed that if anyone, it was Joffrey, who could defeat the Night King. 

"Dalla!" Mance called for his wife, "Call the council. If he’s gone there, something’s stirred. And we've heard naught from the Wall in weeks—that’s no small thing."

Mance believed in being prepared for the eventual. He knew the Night King's attack was imminent, so he had kept his entire settlement prepared. While he trusted the Wall, he didn't trust magic that much. If the Night King was on the move, there must be a way to bypass the Wall. 

“We move on to Winterfell at once. Tell Wun Wun to take charge of the mammoths and haul the luggage. No dawdling now… there’s a chill in my bones, and it ain’t from the wind.”

Having been officially recognized as a Lord by Joffrey's crown, Mance wielded his noble authority with precision. 

Soon, the twenty thousand Wildlings began their march. Initially, there were forty thousand, but some of them died during the war Mance waged beyond the Wall to unite the Wildlings to lead them south. Then, some dispersed across Westeros to look for work. That left Mance with twenty thousand, of whom many were old, women, and children. 

Wooosh!

Soon, Mance saw the dragon in the sky again. This time, it hovered above for a while and then went ahead. 

That made Mance feel the air was even more ominous, and he rushed his people. 

####

Joffrey felt relieved seeing that Mance had already led his people south. But the distance between the settlement and Winterfell was at least five hundred miles. It would take days for Mance to reach Winterfell. 

So, Joffrey decided to reach Winterfell early and prepare for battle. All the while sending Daenerys to check on Mance from the distant skies and report back. 

"The Night King’s likely crossed by now," Joffrey said, one hand firm around Daenerys’ waist as they soared through the clouds. "When we land, take your dragons—command them. If it comes to battle, keep them above the clouds. Night King can throw ice-spears, high and fast enough to kill a dragon."

Daenerys' heart skipped a few beats. She worried for the other two dragons as they didn't really listen to her much. She was only bonded with Drogon. 

"You must listen to me, Daenerys." Joffrey reminded her. "Don’t repeat what you did at Castle Black. If our sons and daughters are to ride dragons one day, then it’s you who must see that the dragons live long enough to do it."

"I… I understand, Joffrey," Daenerys said softly, though her voice faltered. "It's only—I'm afraid. You shouldn't place yourself in such danger. You're the strength that holds this realm together. Together, we could rule it well… better than alone."

That almost… makes me feel things. Joffrey relished in his slow but fruitful work done to have her fall for him. It seemed she was head over heels for him. 

"I’m the king, Daenerys. It's my duty to stand at the front. I did that at Blackwater, and I'll do it again. The fire is mine, the Seven favor me. It’s the Night King who ought to tremble, not I."

Daenerys fell silent after that. 

Woosh!

Drogon dipped below the clouds at last as they neared Winterfell. 

"That's smoke!" Joffrey shouted. 

Daenerys steered Drogon lower, and they got a much better view. The massive Winterfell castle in the distance showed fire oozing from its various towers. But it wasn't the castle on fire, rather the many exploding Scorpions on the walls shooting down… at the horde of skeletons trying to scale the massive castle. 

"He's already here!" Joffrey cursed under his breath. "Get me to the castle, now, Daenerys! And then take Drogon up high, understand? Do as I command!"

"Please don't die—Joff." Daenerys bit her lips and took Drogon straight down towards the ominous scene. She couldn't breathe properly, seeing the countless wraiths for the first time. They were all once living, and now soldiers of a demon. She feared defeat, that this would be the world's future if the demon wasn't stopped. 

"WRAAAA!"

As if Drogon also felt threatened, it roared. But it obeyed Daenerys and eventually landed in the large yard of Winterfell castle, safe within the walls. It was chaos everywhere, as the wraiths had no sense of fear and pain. They just created a hill for themselves to climb the walls. 

"Go!" Joffrey jumped down from Drogon's back and ordered Daenerys. "Keep the dragons safe! That's your only duty!" 

Originally, he wanted the dragons to rain fire on the wraiths. But now, he feared having them fall into the Night King's hands. 

"I'll live, and I'll win! Trust me!" 

He wasn't really that sure about it himself. But putting on a brave face was the best he could do. It instilled the men with the confidence to fight. More so now when they were likely shaken by the sight of the wraiths. 

"Joffre—Your Grace!"

"Ser Jaime." Joffrey rushed towards Jaime. "Get the women and children into the Crypts. Lock it. Then bring me my armor. We’re taking the fight outside. If the wraiths swarm the halls, we’ll be buried before we can lift a sword."

The Kingsguards quickly surrounded him. The inside of the castle was extremely crowded as the entire army had taken refuge inside, waiting for him to return or for someone to give them the orders. The lords who had joined him were huddled in the solar, discussing what to do. 

It was foolish in Joffrey's eyes. He'd already given them all the tools needed to battle. Every man was armed with blades made of Dragonglass, and even the archers had hundreds of thousands of arrows with Dragonglass heads. There were also a lot of exploding Scorpions armed.

At the same time, the Night King didn't really have that many Wraths this time compared to the visions Joffrey had seen. 

He was quick to put on his armor and then storm towards the solar to meet the lords. 

"Your Grace!"

But midway, he heard Catelyn's voice from a room. 

"Why aren't you headed to the Crypts?" Joffrey frowned and waved at the Kingsguards behind him. "Wait here for me."

He entered the room with Catelyn, pushing the door shut behind him. But once inside, he found Arya, Sansa, and Val there too. He had placed Val with them to keep them safe. 

"All of you! Head to the Crypts, now!" He ordered. 

But Sansa darted to him and hugged him, arms wrapping around his armed chest. "Come with us."

Ah, mad in love. 

Taking a softer tone, Joffrey caressed her back and pushed gently. “I’m the king, Sansa. I don’t get to run. If the Night King wins, no walls, no castles—none of it will save us.”

Then, he cupped her beautiful face in his palms and traced a kiss on her rosy lips. Her blue, watery eyes calmed down at his touch and relaxed. 

"Don't worry, I'll win."

Then, he looked at Catelyn right behind Sansa to the right. That proud, voluptuous woman had similar, emotional expressions. Truth be spoken, he felt something stir in his loins. But he didn't have the time. 

So, he got closer to Catelyn, wrapped one arm around her curvy waist, palm reaching low over her delicious, soft, and wide hips. His other hand caressed her face, and finally, he landed a wet kiss on her lips. He went a little hotter with her, sliding his tongue in. 

"Take care of Creagan and Joanna." He requested, and finally looked at Arya. 

He went ahead and did the same with her, hugging her and then kissing her lips. It all felt natural since he'd already fucked the three Stark women together more times than he could count. They no longer shied away from his heated touches. 

"I'll go with you. I can fight," Arya requested. 

In your dreams, Arya. Joffrey scoffed inside. The last thing he wanted was for her to steal his glory. 

"No, I have plenty of men fighting outside. I need you with Catelyn and Sansa. I need you to protect Joanna and Creagan. Gather Missandei as well and protect Aurelion." He ordered her, giving her a responsibility she couldn't refuse. 

Finally, he looked at Val. He went ahead and shamelessly kissed her, too. This was the first time the Stark women had seen him do that to Val, but it shouldn't have been surprising. The rumors had been there for years. 

After kissing Val, he hugged her and whispered in her ears. "I hope my seed took hold."

"Me too, Your Grace," she replied with a short giggle. 

"Protect the Prince and Princess, Val," Joffrey ordered her, without naming who they were. He didn’t name them—Creagan’s blood was a secret not meant for the realm. "When I return in triumph, we’ll speak again."

Quickly, Val kissed him again and let him go. All the women watched Joffrey leave the room. 

But as soon as they were alone, Catelyn eyed Val with an almost furious gaze. "Since when?"

Val gave a small shrug. "From the start. He took me, bested me—it was the bargain struck with Mance. But fear not, Lady Stark. I don’t mean to steal your girl’s place. I’m his shield now, his Kingsguard, by choice. That’s my vow. You know what it is to keep one, don’t you?”

Catelyn frowned, but eased up very soon, "Just Catelyn is fine." 

She was aware of the fame Joffrey had, she had accepted the fact that he'd have many lovers. And as long as he remained loyal to Sansa and kept his marital vows, he didn't mind. Daenerys was a part of that, she was his wife, the Queen already. 

"Very well, Val. We should go—before the King’s temper finds us."

"After you."

####

Daenerys couldn't bring herself to just sit and watch. 

She flew far in the sky, watching the battlefield below through the gaps in the clouds. It was total chaos as Winterfell's gates opened, and Joffrey led the army out to fight the wraiths. But she found comfort in the fact that the Dragonglass weapons were effective. The wraiths fell into ashes by mere scratches. 

The Westerosi army of over a hundred thousand overwhelmed the wraiths. However, men still died, and whoever died rose again as wraiths and struck their allies. It was a psychological dilemma, a fact that made the Westerosi army slightly less effective. 

"DO NOT FEAR! STRIKE THEM WITH ALL YOU HAV…!"

She faintly heard Joffrey's loud roar. She couldn't understand how he was able to shout that loud. Perhaps he truly was blessed, visible as the sole man with a burning sword in the battlefield, leading the Kingsguards. 

Although there were only ever seven Kingsguards at one time, Joffrey had broken that rule by adding the likes of Val and Ygritte to the ranks. Moreover, Joffrey had already established the Queensguards for her. So, with almost two dozen men, Joffrey slayed through the battlefield. 

The major threats were not wraiths, however, but the White Walkers under the command of the Night King. 

I can't let this be… Not enough. 

Daenerys feared losing her dragons, so she decided to do something else. She glanced towards the North and quickly started flying in that direction, leading Rhaegal and Viserion as well. 

Although she couldn't bring her Dothraki army or the Unsullied army, she hoped to help.

I'll can bring more help. 

####

This is it—I can feel it. 

Joffrey was like a storm on the battlefield, no less imposing than his supposed father. He was impressed with himself. He felt his entire body revived, shrouded in that magical warmth. It felt like the Seven had descended upon him and possessed him completely. His voice was louder, his strength was greater, his precision, his eyesight, his understanding, and his senses—all peaked. 

"BURN THEM!"

At Joffrey's command, one of the Kingsguards in the back raised a flag high. Soon, a barrage of exploding Scorpions came from the Winterfell castle walls and blasted all across the battlefield where clusters of wraiths were gathered, trying to rip apart the fallen men. It was a respectful sacrifice. 

There were twelve White Walkers under the Night King. Joffrey had only engaged one of them and defeated it, it was a struggle. Unlike the wraiths, the White Walkers were completely experienced in warfare and wielded their ice-weapons with precision. They could also melt and reshape their weapons at will, giving them more mobility. 

Fuck!

It hurt. Joffrey had wounds on his left arm already; they were not deep, but they were bleeding. And he still had eleven more White Walkers to kill. Thankfully, the Kingsguards were brutal. 

"Ser Jaime! Cover me!" Joffrey roared, using the Kingsguards as his shield around him. The plan was simple: they'd engage the White Walkers one at a time. The Kingsguard would create a circle around him and the White Walker, keeping the wraiths away so he could focus fully on the ice demon. 

Clank!

It was as if cutting overgrown weeds. The wraiths fell too easily. 

Step by step, they covered the field, the other lords copied Joffrey's technique and used their sworn knights as their shields around them. The momentum was theirs. 

"WIPE THEM ALL OUT!"

For some reason, Joffrey realised that whenever he'd shout an order, the men would cheer and regain their confidence. So, he kept doing it no matter how tired he felt. 

Soon, more White Walkers fell. From eleven, cut down to a mere three. Yet, the Night King was nowhere to be seen. 

Hours had gone by, and Joffrey bled from multiple wounds. Some on his body and a few on his face. The Kingsguards were in no better shape; Ser Jaime was already blind in one eye from a slash by a White Walker. 

Where is the Night King? Joffrey wondered, confused about who to ask. The Seven or R'hllor? Any hints?

Grrrr…~

Then, the ground began to shake. 

The next moment, tens of thousands of skeleton hands started coming out of the ground. 

"FUCK! They were saving their strength." Joffrey cursed and raised his sword high. "DO NOT FALTER! HUNT THEM DOWN!"

This was too much. The battle had been going on for more than two hours already, and everyone was tired. But the wraiths stayed at their peak mobility. 

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

Yet again, the ground shook. However, this time, nothing came out of the ground. Instead, from the direction of the Wolfswood in the North, a dusty storm appeared. Then, massive figures came out, raging straight towards the battlefield. 

"Giants!" 

They were Wildling Giants, riding on the backs of mammoths, storming straight into the battlefield full of wraiths. Furthermore, the Giants wielded massive hammers with Dragonglass coating them, so their strikes killed hundreds of wraiths with each swing. There were at least ten Giants. 

Then behind came hundreds of strong, tall, Wildling men, roaring with their weapons high. All the Wildlings were armed with Dragonglass weapons. 

"WRAAAAA!"

Far in the distance, Joffrey saw Daenerys flying away on her dragon. 

Hah! This woman… She's amazing. Joffrey couldn't help but admire her actions. The Giants were a great help. I should look for the Night King. 

There was one place he hadn't looked yet. The same place where the Night King died in his past vision. But in that vision, the Night King entered the Godswood inside Winterfell to hunt down Bran. 

This time, however, there was no Bran. The only man with magical ties was him. Furthermore, unlike the vision, where he saw no semblance of a plan to defeat the White Walkers, he'd prepared well. He had plenty of weapons, men, and fire. 

Plainly speaking, the Night King stood no chance. 

Where is he? Is he scared? 

He pondered if the Night King was waiting to find him alone. Dragonglass was too dangerous, after all. In that battlefield, even a rogue arrow could kill him. 

Godswood it is then.

"Ser Jaime, I must go," Joffrey explained his wish. "The Night King won’t come while I’m surrounded by swords. I’ll wait for him alone… in the Godswood of Winterfell."

"What? That's suicide!" 

Joffrey glared at the man. He'd grown taller than Ser Jaime already, a thin stubble beard marked his face, his hair reaching his ears. Joffrey had become more than what his biological father was at his peak, with both hands intact. 

Shifting closer to Ser Jaime, Joffrey whispered. "Have faith in me, Father."

Ser Jaime's eyes widened in shock. His lips froze, his bleeding face paled. This was the first time Joffrey acknowledged him as his father. Heck, Jaime didn't even know that Joffrey knew all along. 

Joffrey patted Ser Jaime's shoulder. "Now, pave me a path to the castle."

Ser Jaime gulped, his heart filled with emotions, pride, and fear. But at the same time, he saw it. He'd taught Joffrey all he knew about wielding a sword, and his son hadn't disappointed him one bit. Joffrey was everything he could ever hope for as a father. Even Tywin doted on the pride of House Lannister. Half the realm still doubted that Joffrey was most certainly a bastard, but none dared to mention it anymore because of the might and authority Joffrey wielded. The ruthlessness and cunning combined, a deadly mix. 

Finally, Ser Jaime gathered his thoughts. 

"Understood, Your Grace."

####

Back in the locked crypt, all the women had gathered. There weren't many to begin with. It was only the Stark Women, Val, Missandei, the children, and a bunch of female maids that worked in the castle. 

Sitting separately, the highborn women looked at each other awkwardly. But eventually, Arya broke the silence. 

"So… what happens after?" Arya asked, glancing between her mother and Val. "Joffrey’s bound to win—but then what? Sansa’s already known. What about the rest of us? And Daenerys… she’ll burn us all, won’t she?"

Catelyn, conflicted, looked at her daughter's face. Then she glanced at her son sleeping on her lap, already two years old. Then she looked at little Joanna, almost the same as Cregan, in Sansa's lap. And finally, there was the newborn Aurelion in Missandei's lap, not far from them. 

She didn't want to let go of Joffrey. His presence had grown on her and she fondly craved his affection. He made her feel like a cherished, loved woman again. He was strong, intelligent, ruthless, everything a woman could ask for. And he didn't shy away from giving her what she desired, children that still needed her. And honestly, she wanted more. 

"We… We'll have to discuss the matter with Queen Daenerys," Catelyn suggested. 

Sansa nodded firmly, already nurtured by Joffrey for years to be his docile, submissive northern bride. By now, Sansa knew exactly what Joffrey wanted. And Joffrey wanted them all. "Once Joffrey wins, I doubt anyone will have the courage to question how he chooses to live. But Daenerys… I don’t know her. Not truly."

"She doesn't mind."

All of a sudden, an uninvited voice spoke. They all looked at Missandei who'd shifted closer to them, holding the silver-blonde haired baby boy, the next King of the Seven Kingdoms. 

"What do you mean by that?" Arya asked. 

Missandei straightened her back and let out a quiet sigh. "Khaleesi and I spoke of this before we sailed across the Narrow Sea to Westeros. She knows of King Joffrey's other companions, and since His Grace has promised that their firstborn son will be the next King, she bears no ill will toward his other affairs.

"Moreover, she truly believes there is no fault in Joffrey's actions. Men like him are born but once in a century. When Ser Barristan suggested that His Grace might be a bastard, Khaleesi dismissed the notion. She said that even if he were, he has done enough to prove himself worthy of the throne. He is strong, wise, and ruthless—all that a King must be. And besides, he is compassionate. Even a whore who gains his favor is treated with care, not forgotten."

"That's… rather convenient," Val murmured, crossing her arms. It was hard to believe that Daenerys, the Queen, would so easily accept her husband's debauchery. 

Missandei shook her head. "Her Grace has witnessed much in Essos, Lady Val. She has seen men with far less standing than King Joffrey do unspeakable things. I cannot speak of her final choice, but I am certain none of you are in harm's way."

Hearing her, they took a slow sigh of relief. Other than Sansa, none of them desired to marry Joffrey or seek any higher status. Arya just wanted to remain a knight, and Val wanted to remain the Kingsguard. As for Catelyn, she had Creagan to raise and make him the new Lord of House Stark. 

"I'll pray for his victory," Catelyn muttered and closed her eyes. 

####

Joffrey's sword burned furiously, crackling as he stood leaning against the Weirwood tree in the Godswood grove. The place was covered in trees and surrounded by walls, despite being inside Winterfell. Whoever built the castle valued this Weirwood tree a lot. 

The sky was slowly darkening. Many hours had passed since the battle had begun. Daenerys had worked hard to bring many more Giants and mammoths. The victory was destined to be his. But without defeating the Night King, nothing was final. 

"Come now, Night King," Joffrey called out into the cold wind, chin held high. "Don’t skulk in the shadows like some frightened beast. Face me—if you dare."

Crunch!

Right then, the sound of twigs breaking came from the side. 

Joffrey became alert and raised his sword higher. The fire became brighter as if reacting to the ominous presence. Then, from the dark shadows, the King of Ice Demons came walking. Covered in a black, icy coat, face blue and ugly, eyes striking blue, and spikes on his head. He was tall, slightly taller than Joffrey. 

"With that face—I can understand why you want to freeze the world. Did your mum refuse to nurse you or what?" Joffrey kept taunting, masking his fear and anxiety with words. 

The Night King held a single, long spear made of ice. It was sharp on both ends, so he held it from the middle. He showed no expression, but then he spoke in a hissy, demonic voice. However, it was nothing compared to R'hllor. 

"You... were never meant to be here. You have altered the course of destiny."

Joffrey scoffed, prepared to fight. He ignored the many wounds marring his body. "For the better, right?" 

"Uncertainty—With the cripple, you had a greater chance at victory." 

"At what cost? Half the realm would have burned. Daenerys would have destroyed King's Landing and died for nothing. But this one—she’s already given me a son. Perhaps more to come."

Joffrey felt it. He was talking too much. The Night King's presence was too much for him. Until now, R'hllor and the Seven were mere metaphysical entities with no real body on the ground. But the Night King was an actual, ancient creature who'd wreaked havoc thousands of years ago. He honestly didn't know if he was going to win. 

Yet, what he sought was more than victory. He had to keep his promise made to the Seven. 

"All shall die the same." 

The Night King lunged forward. His speed and strength were inhuman. 

Fuck!

CLANK!

Joffrey rushed to block the incoming strike with the flat side of his blade. 

Woosh!

But as soon as the ice-spear clashed with him, the Night King made the spear vanish, making it appear below in his other hand—too fast. 

"Gaaaah! Fuck!"

It struck Joffrey deep and pierced right through his armor, piercing through his stomach and coming out of his back. He gasped in pain, blood spilled like a fountain, his mouth coughing up the same crimson. 

He's fucking strong! What the fuck are you doing, Seven? 

Thud!

Joffrey fell to his knees once the Night King retracted his spear. The creature then circled around Joffrey's body, as if taunting his weak form. 

"You cannot stop me."

But I have to…

"Aaaah!" 

Clank!

Clash!

Joffrey stopped thinking and gave complete control to his instincts that were guided by the Warrior. He gave control to the gods completely. It was their blessing, their duty to aid him. 

Clank!

With his increased speed and reaction time, he avoided being struck by the Night King multiple times. Yet, the strength couldn't be compensated. Night King was inherently, biologically stronger. And Joffrey's bones and muscles couldn't tolerate too much, even with the gods backing him. 

"Ugh…!"