GOT: The Golden Lion

"Where are we going?" asked Val, her scabbard clenched in her hand. "Don't think you can win with mere schemes."

Joffrey chuckled and led Val away from Crastar's Keep. He didn't want any disturbance in the midst of his duel.

"I may be a man of schemes, but I'm not shameless. We'll duel fair and square, and if I win, you shall kneel to me and become my Kingsguard."

Val snorted, "That is 'If' you win. But what do I get for winning?"

"What do you want?" Joffrey asked.

Val thought about it for a while, "Food and clothes for Free Folk, at least ten thousand."

Not as heartless and selfish as I thought. Joffrey liked this new information about her. Her loyalty can go a long way if won.

Finally, they arrived at the spot he had chosen, a place surrounded by tall trees with enough space for them to fight.

"Get ready."

Val unsheathed her sword right away, "Don't forget the deal."

Joffrey took off his heavy winter cloak and raised his sword at her, "That would be unbecoming of a King."

"Hmm," Val sneered, fixing her honey-blonde hair into a braid across one shoulder. She didn't get rid of her cloak, however, too proud of her abilities. A kneeler was no match to her, she genuinely believed. "Ha!"

She went in first with a thrusting strike. Joffrey, constantly smiling, stepped a little to the side and knocked her sword down with his, followed by a quick swing to Val's chest.

Trrrr~

The sound of clothes tearing echoed.

Val looked down, and to her shock, a good chunk of her white tunic ripped off her chest, revealing some of her underclothes tightly wrapped around her full bosom.

Joffrey mused, feeling confident. Training nonstop every single day had helped a lot, and learning from some of the best was bound to give him an edge. Especially against a Wildling who lacked any major technique.

"Apologies," he tauntingly said and stepped back. "Come at me again."

Val did just that, and this time, she fought like a true Wildling. Although she swung her sword at Joffrey's flank, she instantly turned it into a fake and instead jumped forward, slamming her shoulder on Joffrey's chest.

"Ah." Joffrey was thrown back, coughing a little at her strike. "I thought it was a sword duel."

"There are no rules; that's how the Free Folk fight," Val barked, proudly raising her sword and striking at Joffrey again, this time aiming for his head.

Metal struck metal, and the song of their duel reverberated. Joffrey blocked with ease and overpowered Val with his raw strength. She was almost as tall as him, but not nearly as strong. He pushed her back and kicked at her stomach.

"So be it." Joffrey didn't pause anymore, and the moment he noticed Val losing her balance, he charged forward.

Clank!

"No!"

Joffrey swiftly hit very close to the hilt of Val's sword, sending such vibrations into the steel that Val lost her grip. Right then, Joffrey, moved further in towards her, pushing her down on the ground, and stepping on her sword, disarming her.

"Do you surrender?" with Val on the ground, Joffrey aimed the tip of his blade at her throat.

Val glared at him the entire time, "In your dreams, kneeler. Ha!'

She grabbed dirt from the snowy ground and threw it at Joffrey's face. But he didn't even flinch, and instead knelt down over Val's body, spreading his knees beside her waist and the side edge of his sword now fully resting on her neck.

"Do you surrender?" he asked again, putting weight on her body and forcing her to lay completely straight on the ground. The increased closeness of their bodies made him realize how utterly beautiful she was—to the point that any Southern noble would giddily marry her.

Val gritted her teeth, trying to kick her legs. But the blade, dangerously resting on her neck, didn't let her. "Y-You…"

Joffrey smiled and eased a little, "How about a fistfight next? No swords, no daggers, just our hands."

It appeared like a ray of hope, "You'll regret it, kneeler King."

Oh, I know I won't. He thought as he looked at her delicate, full bosom. The curves were worth dying for. Not that he planned to.

Quickly, he stepped away from her and let Val stand up. They both discarded their swords and raised their fists up, prepared to tackle one another. However, this time, Val showed hesitance in charging, constantly taunting instead.

"Come on, now. Don't be scared."

"Are you sure?" Joffrey asked, "What if I'm too much to handle?"

"I've handled ten of the likes of you at the same time," she growled.

Joffrey shrugged and slowly stepped forward. Ser Arthur was a master in fist fighting and general martial arts. It was one of the elements of Unsullied training, and thanks to that, he's had some great training sessions.

Snap!

Joffrey suddenly leaped down to Val's feet when she was expecting a punch from him. Before she knew it, Joffrey had caught her legs with his arms and pulled her, throwing her on the ground. He gave her no time and got on top of her, spreading her white woolen breaches-clad legs and grinding his manhood in between.

He weighed down on her, grabbing her arms, spreading them wide, and holding them there. He didn't let her get out of his locked position and looked down at her face, a mere feet apart. "Oh, how amusing. You have a very earthen scent."

"You… what are you doing? Fight me!" She yelled.

"I am fighting," Joffrey replied smugly and leaned down to the side of Val's face and licked her pale as snow neck. "Oh, you taste wonderful too."

"You!" She wriggled the best she could, but that only made her spread legs grind against Joffrey's loins. She quickly felt something hard poking her there. "I'm not your whore, kneeler!"

Joffrey chuckled and brought his face back up, gazing at her spotless, furious face with heated desire. Without warning, he leaned down and touched her lips with his, but it wasn't a kiss, a mere peck. "I know… You're far… far more than that, Val of the Free Folk."

Val stopped struggling and looked at his face seriously. "Is this what you wanted from the beginning? That duel… was that a…"

"Would it matter if I said yes, or if I said no?" He asked, starting to rub his groin more openly on her hidden womanhood. "The moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you. Not as a whore, but as a respected woman of my Kingsguard, the first female Knight of Westeros, and the first female Kingsguard in history."

"As a kneeler." She said, "If I give you what you want, will you give my people what they need?"

A noble sacrifice? Joffrey felt tempted, but this wasn't what he wanted. He wanted her emotional submission, not helpless surrender.

Van never realized when Joffrey freed her arms. She only felt his warm, hard yet soft hand caress her face with a delicate brush, pushing aside her braid away from her shoulder. The entire time, she stared into the young King's blue eyes, realizing he was no older than herself.

Joffrey leaned down closer, feeling her swelling flesh against his chest. "If you want me to take an oath, I cannot. What happens to the Free Folk depends on the Free Folk more than it does me. Tell me, Val, if your people cannot contain their desires, rape, and pillage around, can I rightly stop the entire Westeros—the Seven Kingdoms, from joining hands and waging a war against you?"

Val frowned, feeling naked in Joffrey's eyes despite being clothed. She had no words to refute him, "Yet you have agreed to let them in."

"I'm taking a significant risk. This can either tarnish my name or make me a King who shall be remembered for centuries to come. I want your people to assimilate into Westeros. I want the Wall to have its gates open at all times. I want your people to learn to farm, create food, and build yourselves a society that's respected, where children and women are safe from predators… You must know what I'm talking about."

"That's a sign of weakness," Val replied. "I am strong; I am a capable rider. All because I am free."

"No." Joffrey responded, "You are strong, you are fierce, you are everything you are because you knew what would have happened if Val of the Free Folk had remained docile. You are aware of your beauty, and if you were weak, you'd have birthed ten children by now, all from different men. You'd be seen as a prize, an object to be had—that's the reality you live in."

She scoffed, "Not so different from your world."

"Aye, I know vile things occur in the South. Rapes happen, murders happen, but they get punished too. All because we have rules. Women don't have to raise their swords to protect themselves. A man can be a bard, a cook, an artist, a blacksmith, or a carpenter. A society that only knows how to take can never create, Val," Joffrey said. "I want the Free Folk to learn to create."

Who am I lying to? My own grandfather has a filthy rapist as his hound. Elia and her kids… Joffrey remembered why Dorne hated the crown and the Lannisters so much, still waiting for justice.

"And how do you suppose you'll do that?" she asked, not in a taunt anymore but out of general curiosity.

Joffrey caressed her face once more, wanting to make this woman his own. He could already see people calling her the Wildling princess, and she looked like one. "Slowly and steadily. In batches, and in a controlled manner. It all depends on how well Mance can control your people. If they go berserk and pillage, they will have to be dealt with."

Val nodded, and looked left and right at the surrounding trees and the snow before glancing back at Joffrey, "What if your lords rebel against you?"

Joffrey chuckled, "Well, you will have to see for yourself. How the court works, and how the schemes play out. That's why you should come with me to King's Landing."

Val defiantly stared into his eyes and then smirked, "Win me first… if you can."

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