Chapter 134 - Fire & Ice II (III)

"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…!"

______________________

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