NOVEL NEXT Chapter 45: Val the Wildling Princess
Maintaining eye contact with Daenerys the entire time, Jon begins to remove his furs and leathers. Piece by piece, garment by garment, the God-King strips naked, revealing every last inch of his perfect, divine form. Needless to say, as he does so, Daenerys can’t keep her eyes on HIS face like he’s doing with her. No, her eyes roam and they roam constantly, her tongue darting out to lick at her lips, before ultimately, she bites the lower one in anticipation and need.
Still, she doesn’t change her mind. She doesn’t beg him to fuck her, doesn’t toss Val away. She leaves the choice in Jon’s hands, and Jon… Jon already knows what he’s going to do. And so, he moves in… and kneels behind Val. He seizes ahold of the Wildling Princess’ wide hips, noting not for the first time how perfect they are for the purposes of childbearing. As he grips down on them, Val jolts in response, before wiggling in excitement.
Reaching down, he takes ahold of his cock with one hand and guides it to Val’s glistening wet slit, running the bulbous head of his member up and down her pussy lips with intent, building both suspense and anticipation. Of course, he’s not just going to fuck her, no matter how enticing the situation. And so, still maintaining eye contact with Dany, Jon speaks, though his words aren’t meant for the Mother of Dragons, but rather the Wildling Princess betwixt her legs.
“Is this what you want, Val? For me to fuck a baby into you? For me to knock you up, to get you with child as I did the woman in front of you, and as I’ve likely done with your Queen?”
Daenerys, understanding precisely what he’s doing in that moment, smirks. While she doesn’t loosen her grip on Val’s hair, she does yank the other woman’s head back, giving her leave to gasp and pant for air as well as deliver her response. Jon doesn’t have to wait long, to be fair.
“Y-Yes!”
It’s a credit to how… in tune with one another he and his khaleesi are, that Daenerys doesn’t just assume that’s the end of it and shove Val back down. The Wildling Princess tries to go, tries to return her tongue to the violet-eyed Queen’s snatch, but Daenerys holds her fast via that grip on her hair, sniffing haughtily in turn while Val whines pitifully. Jon smirks, plying her folds with his tip, pushing ever so slightly into her… and then stopping again.
“Then beg, Val of the Free Folk. Beg for my cock. Beg for my seed. Beg for the privilege of bearing my children.”
The Free Folk had fought alongside Jon and his forces and held the Wall. And he would not forget that fact. But he also had no intention of forgetting that they’d slain the Night’s Watch, ending an institution that had stood for thousands upon thousands of years. He had very nearly been a brother of the Night’s Watch, once upon a time, long, long ago.
Still, he would give them credit for staying and fighting, for taking the Wall and fortifying it and preparing for the Army of the Dead and Damned, rather than simply continuing to flee South. If they had kept going, if they had invaded the North and beyond, they likely would have ruined any chance the Living had of fending off the Night King and his White Walkers. He and his army would have arrived at an undefended Wall and swept over it without pause, and no other defense in all of Westeros would likely have been strong enough to stop the darkness.
At the same time, they were fools. Not for standing and fighting, they’d done the right thing there… but for acting as if they had any position to negotiate from a position of strength with him in the first place. Honestly, they were lucky he was a benevolent god. Jon understood that their very nature was contrarian, that they were rebellious to the core, and as a God of Freedom, he felt something of an obligation to support their version of it… to an extent.
However, as he kneels there behind Val of the Free Folk, palming her hips and ass cheeks and nudging into her sopping wet folds with his cock, Jon waits. Because he has all the time in the world, and they all know that Val… Val will break.
“… P-Please! Please fuck me with your big fat cock! Fill me with your seed! Knock me up! Breed me! I want it! I want to carry your children, Your Majesty!”
A glance to Ygritte shows the red head watching in wide-eyed silence, not even trying to speak through her gag anymore. This much, it would seem, was enough to satisfy any further desire she might have had to see Val humiliate or degrade herself. But at the same time, Jon liked to think the Wildling Queen was smart enough to realize Val wasn’t just degrading herself in this moment… she was degrading their people as a whole.
Indeed, all those weeks ago, back in Winterfell… Jon had admired her resolve. But said resolve hadn’t lasted long, now, had it? In the end, here she was all the same, face buried in his Queen’s cunt, snatch filled with his cock, getting fucked from behind while eating out his khaleesi. All was exactly as it should be. The Wildling Princess, brought low by Jon’s cock and Dany’s cunt. The Wildling Queen, tied up and gagged in the corner, forced to watch. And Jon and Daenerys Targaryen, ascendant and returned at last to their respective home.
Jon fucks Val long and hard, through multiple squealing orgasms on the part of the Wildling Princess. Of course, most of them are quite muffled by Daenerys’ quim, the beautiful Mother of Dragons throwing her head back and letting out a wanton moan of her own, as she bucks her hips into Val’s face, climaxing once or twice herself.
In the end though, it can only really go one way. With one last thrust and a grunt, Jon slams forward and spills his seed inside of Val, filling the Free Folk woman to the brim and then some with his cum. Needless to say, there’s no doubt that Val will be pregnant with his child soon enough. He is a God after all, he can make sure of these things.
Speaking of… pulling out of her, Jon doesn’t hesitate to pull her away from Daenerys’ quim. Seeing this, the Mother of Dragons smiles and lets go of Val’s hair, allowing him to do so. Setting her to the side to rest, Jon moves to take her place. One hand goes around the back of Daenerys’ head, and the other goes to her hip. His cock, meanwhile, replaces Val’s tongue right then and there as he slides up inside of his Queen, his khaleesi… the mother of his child.
Daenerys, for her part, gasps and then moans quite wantonly, eyes fluttering as she bucks her hips into him in response. She does squeak, however, when he lifts her up into the air a moment later, forcing her to rapidly wrap her limbs around him and cling to him for dear life. The result is that she falls down the length of his cock far faster, and Jon grins as she lets out an even more wanton moan right into his ear.
“… J-Jerk.”
For a moment, Jon is reminded of how Daenerys was when they first met. All that time ago, when he’d come upon her and her brother in Pentos, at that wedding to the Dothraki Warlord, Khal Drogo. She’d been so young back then. He was just as young, to be fair. Time had made something of them both. Regardless, she’d also been so very fragile, back then.
She’d done a lot of maturing in the time since, they both had. She wasn’t that fragile, fearful girl anymore, though for a brief moment, she reverts. But then Queen Daenerys, Mother of Dragons, comes back and she’s using her grip on his shoulders and waist to begin bouncing on his cock, even though he’s the one holding HER aloft.
Chuckling, Jon begins to help out, his hands cupping his Queen’s pale ass cheeks. He thrusts up into her as she rides him, fucking her deeply and swiftly without fail. They have an audience, but in that moment, neither Jon nor Daenerys care anything about that. No, in that moment it’s all about the two of them and nobody else. Ygritte has been neutralized and lost her challenge to his Queen besides. Val has been seeded, given what she wanted, and has no cause for complaint.
In this moment, the world shrinks down until they and they alone are all that exists in front of the other. Staring into Daenerys’ eyes, Jon wonders for the first time what he’s going to do about her entirely mortal life span. He, as a God, will live for a lot longer than her… unless he does something to change that.
Something to think about, to be sure. Something to consider, once peace has been had. Once Westeros is theirs, once they sit as King and Queen of this land… then Jon can concern himself with making something new out of something old, perhaps.
For now, he satiates himself with his Queen’s body and fills her with his seed, impregnating Daenerys for a second time right then and there. He doesn’t need to ask her as he made sure to ask Val, nor does he need to make her beg. They both know she would gladly do so if he demanded it of her… and that, in and of itself, is enough for him.
-x-X-x-
Leaving the Wall behind, Jon and his armies had returned to Winterfell, where it became time to plan their next move. In his Uncle’s office, Jon found himself considering his options, a map of Westeros with the most up to date information they had right in front of him.
This time, he is alone to make his decision. But that does not mean the words of his advisors, from all that time ago back in Volantis, do not still ring in his ears. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Westeros, as a whole, has moved at a glacial pace in the time Jon has been busy up in the North.
While he was fighting undead and defeating the Night King, the rest of Westeros was carefully maintaining their status quo… to an extent. The most recent reports revealed that there were forces on the move, but even still, they were taking their time, treating it like a game of cyvasse, rather than the knife fight that Jon personally saw it as.
All of the major players from last time were still secure in their positions. Yara Greyjoy still ruled as Lady Reaper of Pyke in the Iron Islands. Cersei Lannister still reigned as Lady Lannister in the Westerlands, continuing to prop up her daughter as the rightful heiress to the Iron Throne to anyone who would listen. No one was, of course.
However, on top of no one listening, there were apparently reavers on the Westerlands’ shores. Iron Island ships were beginning to raid up and down the coast of the Westerlands, clearly sensing weakness and a fat bounty to be had. Cersei and Myrcella sat pretty up in Casterly Rock for now, yes… but how much longer, was still in question.
Meanwhile, the Faith Militant still ‘ruled’ in King’s Landing, though the latest reports revealed that their so-called High Sparrow had been assassinated, much in the same way he’d had the former High Septon killed. The city was falling into a dark place from what Jon could tell. Both the mundane reports he had received… and his own divine senses, were telling him nothing good was happening there.
It was still the seat of the Seven, the Pantheon of Gods and Goddesses that had destroyed his predecessors in Old Valyria a few centuries ago. His purpose, if the shades of Balerion and Meraxes were to be believed, was to destroy the Seven in turn, and take his revenge. However, gazing upon them from afar… all he saw was darkness. Not the same dark cold that he got when he’d gazed North while the Night King still lived, but a different sort of darkness. One of blood… despair.
At the same time, the Faith Militant had enough of a hold on King’s Landing to still make moves elsewhere, it seemed. While Margaery Tyrell and her grandmother still lived, their hold on Highgarden and Old Town was apparently more tenuous by the day. Whether the Tyrells even still ruled or not was up in the air. Instead, all of Jon’s reports spoke of another name… Tarly.
And yet, this Tarly would not be able to rest on his laurels for long. Not with the Faith Militant sending their ramshackle ‘army’ to ‘purge’ the sinners and heretics from Highgarden. Apparently, they were going to pull the roses up by the root personally.
All the while, a certain Princess Martell continued sitting pretty down in Dorne. If she was planning on making any moves, Arianne Martell hadn’t decided the time was right just yet. No, rather, she was definitely still biding her time, taking it slowly, and watching carefully for her moment. A schemer, if Jon had ever seen one. And perhaps that made it better to take care of her sooner, rather than later.
He’d just finished a war, and from the look of things, his would-be subjects were intent on starting up a handful more to take its place. Not that those in the South even knew what they’d nearly lost it all too. Tch, if Jon wanted them to understand what he’d done for them, he’d unfortunately have to go to them, one by one, and show them directly.
Even still, it would seem like his time putting out fires was far from done. The only question was, which fire would he move to deal with next?
-x-X-x-
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