"You're right, he's different."
"That's what I've been saying." Val smugly chuckled. "Joffrey's as much a man as they come. Ygritte, he took Lys and Tyrosh—Tyrosh, the same slavers who once came creeping past the Wall to chain free folk like cattle."
"I still can't believe you slept with that man," Ygritte said, eating a meal with Val. "You had the strongest men chasing you back home, and you settled for him? A kneeler?"
"Not a kneeler. He's the one they all kneel to." Val let out a breath, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "And he beat me fair, in battle and in bed. Let me tell you, Ygritte, the men beyond the Wall have no idea what they're doing between our legs. Just getting on top of us and grunting down our face is no shagging—Ah, it's better you experience it instead."
Ygritte raised a brow at that subtle hint. It was the third time she'd done it. "Experience? What do you mean?"
"What else? You're a beauty. Just go to the King's bedchamber one night and make him shag you."
"And he'll allow me in?" Yigritte asked back. She'd been in King's Landing for a while now and understood how powerful and protected the King was. Especially inside the Red Keep. Though she wasn't scared of anything, especially not the Kingsguards, it was the Golden Legion made of Unsullied that made her feel wary. The cockless men, as if they lived for no other reason but to serve the King and protect him.
Val rolled her eyes and stood up, acting as if it was a minor matter. "Why wouldn't he? He doesn't care if you're from the North or the South. If he fancies you, he'll merrily pull you into his bed and well… forget sleeping that night."
It had been a plan days in the making. Val, being the only Freefolk in the Red Keep, was always accessible to Ygritte. And Ygritte, who now knew that the Freefolks were also Joffrey's people since the Wall's passage had been opened, didn't have any reason to rush back North.
Westeros was her home now, and what she wanted was to start a new life. Away from the terrible memories and the loss of her lover.
While Val never said it specifically, it was clear that entering Joffrey's good graces could open a lot of doors for her. But first, she'd have to open her legs for him. She was no noble lady and had experienced plenty of sexual partners in the past, so it wasn't a big deal to her. But Jon was an exception. Joffrey was a true, high-born kneeler, as blue-blooded as they come.
The man used to be an enemy of the Freefolks until a few years ago.
Now, she couldn't believe she was actually somewhat convinced by Val.
And a little hopeful that he's as brutish as Val described.
####
There were thousands of lordly houses in Westeros on paper. But that was with the inclusion of petty lords. Such as the Mountain Clans, who were equivalent to a petty lord. Then were men like Lord Manderly, who had a dozen petty lords sworn to him. And each of the other major Stark banner houses has several petty lords sworn to them, too. If you add Landed Knights or Masterly Houses, the number soared.
So, Joffrey had only invited the powerful liege lords who ruled massive regions, including the Wardens and Lord Paramounts. He had also invited a few Archmaesters from the Citadel. But even then, they numbered a little over a hundred. And the thing about such lords was that they traveled with a sizable retinue. On average, each brought fifty men with them.
Thankfully, the Unsullied were used to such numbers and set up a decently comfortable camp outside of King's Landing with dozens of tents, beddings, archery ranges, and small fighting rings. The men were allowed inside the city to spend their money on the finest whores of Lys and buy other things, but they had to return to their camp to sleep.
The Lords were allowed to enter the city with only two men. Even among the Lords, not all were to stay inside the Red Keep. Some had to be provided mansions in the better part of the city. The City Watch, the Golden Legion, and all means were utilized to ensure safety and order.
Joffrey didn't keep them waiting, however. The very next day after the last arrival, he invited all the Lords and Ladies to the Red Keep. He held a special court that day with only nobles allowed inside.
On his throne, Joffrey sat in full regal attire with the crown on his head. In the middle of the throne room was a wooden crate, fully enclosed. There were chains around it, wrapped tightly. Sandor, with his drawn sword, protected it.
Nobles poured into the hall one after another until a large crowd formed from the left end to the right end of the hall, leaving only the crate and the way leading to the throne empty.
Finally, the guards closed the gates to the throne room. Of course, a few nobles felt restless in such a gathering. Most of Westeros' high nobles were in one single place, an easy chance to end them all.
"Forgive me, but the matter is too grave for idle tongues and loose lips," Joffrey declared from his throne, rising with deliberate grace. He handed his crown to Tyrion, shed his royal cloak, and seized his sword. "As I wrote in the raven, I have summoned you to confront the greatest threat Westeros has ever known. Should we fail—none of us will live to see another day."
Those who were aware or had some idea of where Joffrey was leading remained silent. Those who had no idea stepped forward.
Lord Darry of House Darry came forward. "Your Grace, our swords and shields are yours. Who attacks us?"
Clearly, the gathering was also a chance to get in the King's good graces. The one who shouted the loudest pledge of allegiance got the most admiration from the King, they probably thought.
Joffrey couldn't care less.
"Thank you, Lord Darry, but common steel and shields will do no good here. Our foes are not mere men—they are creatures of sorcery." Joffrey stepped down from his throne and stopped ten paces from the wooden crate. "Ser Clegane, show them."
"Aye, Your Grace."
"Look at it! Look well! Brave men died to bring us this wretched thing—proof of what lurks beyond. The answer to the age-old question—Why build a seven-hundred-foot-high and three-hundred-mile-long wall of ice? To protect against what?"
Sandor unlocked the chain first and then kicked the walls of the crate open.
"Wraaaa!"
As soon as light entered the metal cage, the creature inside writhed and cried loudly, roaring at the air itself.
Gasps escaped many mouths. Horror-filled squeals marred the faces of women as they recoiled in their steps.
"What you see is a wraith created by the creatures of the legends—White Walkers, or The Others as some call them." Joffrey declared and unsheathed his sword. "It's an undead, a creature of darkness that can never die unless…"
Woosh!
One of the many things that Joffrey wanted that day was to assert his dominance. As soon as his sword erupted in flames, he knew he'd won over the minds of all those present. Many there had heard about the King's magical powers before, but it was treated like a rumor.
Now, it was a fact.
"A wraith cannot be killed by your common steel swords." Joffrey declared and swung his burning sword closer to the cage. The wraith began screeching and growling, trying to move away from the fire. "Fire is its bane. A strike from Valyrian Steel also works. But considering how rare that is, I was able to find a substitute. Blades made of Dragonglass will also kill it."
At that, Val brought Joffrey a spear with a tip made of Dragonglass.
"I've been preparing for this battle against the dead for a while now. I know, it's hard to believe. But if men can build a wall so high, so vast, beyond human imagination, then what lurks beyond must be worse—far worse. There are dragons in this world, so why not demons of ice?"
For a while, Joffrey allowed the nobles to keep watching the wraith move around. Its bony structure spread horror as much as it could.
"Sandor, strike your sword at its shoulder and sever its arm. Let's show them how hard it is to kill them conventionally."
Sandor moved quickly and used a common spear to stab at the shoulder joint. Instantly, the bony arm fell off. But to everyone's horror, the fallen arm continued to move around.
"Now." Joffrey went ahead and stabbed his burning sword in the arm. The bones instantly turned into a dusty aftermath. "The main body of the Wraith remains alive and moving."
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