War God of Essos, a name that made Robert recoil in cringe. But that was the name those Unsullieds gave him as he led a small contingent of them out of Meereen. He was the general of one thousand Unsullied soldiers that Daenerys sent to recapture Yunkai and Astapor.
Normally, one thousand men was a rather low number. Pitiful even. But with Robert there, the ratio of men didn't matter. He was all of it, a soldier, an army, a siege engine.
"Aye, ye didn't have to haul yer pretty self along," Robert warned the beauty from Naath, Missandei. "I may be dressed like a peddler, but there's still a fight to be had, an' I'll be knee-deep in the bloody thick of it."
The plan was simple. Robert was going to enter the city as a merchant and then open the gates from inside when the Unsullied army would arrive. However, Missandei was sent with him with the excuse that he couldn't speak the language.
Robert saw it differently. Daenerys sent her to keep an eye on him and to ensure that he fulfilled his end of the deal. However, Missandei and Daenerys most certainly knew that if Robert were to discard them and leave, there was nothing they could do to stop him.
That was why the hope was pinned on Missandei's charm. That Robert still held enough interest in her to play along with their plan.
Missandei looked up at his face, standing right beside him, shoulders touching, on the ship's deck as they approached the Astapor.
Mentally, Missandei was a changed woman. After spending nights with Robert, she'd felt sexually different. He wasn't the first man, but he was certainly the first to bother with her pleasure. Even more bewildering, he comforted her after their nights of pleasure. However, she didn't care about that.
It was Robert's existence that changed her. She had come to believe that Daenerys was chosen by the gods, or perhaps she was a goddess herself. How else could someone hatch three dragons and call them their children?
Then came Robert and shattered every idea of reality she had built. From a slave to a follower of Daenerys to whatever she was now. When Robert knocked out a dragon, she felt a crack in her mind.
How vast was the world. She once believed that Daenerys was invincible. But when Drogon fell, for the first time, she saw absolute horror on Daenerys's face.
And now here she was, standing beside a man who could break her in half like a twig, yet there was comfort beside him. An innate belief that he wouldn't hurt her as long as she didn't stand against him.
There was far more intelligence in those eyes than what Robert's mouth hinted at.
"Not all Unsullied speak the common tongue, My Lord. I was sent as a translator."
"Really?" Robert smirked and wrapped an arm around her soft, curvy, tall waist. He pulled her in, knowing well the men on the ship felt envy because of his actions. "And what if I be needin' more than just yer tongue fer words, eh?"
"I am here to serve as you require, My Lord," Missandei replied without even a breath wasted.
Robert smirked and lowered his hand from the small of her back to her ass, giving soft caresses—a perfect guise for a lecherous merchant with a beautiful slave on a trip to make money.
But by now, he didn't know what part of this Robert persona was fake and what part was real. Rather, he did relish the bodily pleasures he received. The only difference was that he didn't drink and whore around like the man that was once Robert Baratheon.
"Tell me, lass. What'd ye've done if Daenerys'd never hauled yer sorry arse outta the muck?"
Missandei gulped, feeling so many eyes on her. She felt Robert's wide, significant palm, rough, heavy, his large fingers spread as he easily fondled most of her right rump. "I… I would have died serving my master."
"Hah! And now ye'll die servin' yet another master." Robert mocked with intent.
"Her Grace freed me. I'm no longer a slave."
"Bah! Ye think tradin' masters makes a beast any less yoked? A horse's lot don't change just 'cause some other bastard's holdin' the reins. Freedom ain't some pretty bauble gifted by soft hands—it's seized, with blood an' steel!" Robert replied and stopped touching her. "Ye're just a hound swapin' kennels, still lickin' the boot of yet another lord."
Listening to him, Missandei kept her lips tightly shut.
"Ha! Ye think yer life's in yer own grubby hands? Not a chance, lass. Ye dance on the strings of yer master's wits, an' the moment yer precious queen bollocks it up an' gets herself skewered, ye'll be next on the chopping block. That's the price o' lickin' noble boots—givin' up yer own damn fate fer theirs."
Missandei's mind wandered off to the many men and followers who had died over the journey. She'd heard stories, too, of previous followers of Daenerys. She was scared, of course, but Daenerys was just, kind, and strong. She believed in her.
But as she glanced at Robert's face again. She didn't feel certain anymore. What if there are more monsters like Robert out there?
After all, at the end of the day, Daenerys remained a common creature of flesh and bones. Only Dragons made her special.
"What would you have had me do, My Lord?"
"Nothing, lass. We ain't cut from the same cloth. I can't stomach bowin' to anyone, nor servin' another. But you, well, ye seem to fancy servin'. Not that I'd mind that in the bedchamber, mind ye, but out here? Bah! That's downright vile!"
Robert moved away as the ship began to approach the docks.
Some time later, Robert deboarded the ship and entered the city of Astapor. While the port area was bustling with activity, the reality was more visible as he entered further in. Slaves were everywhere, and almost all of them had bruises over their bodies. The ground still had traces of blood in some parts.
"We'll find a nice place to stay until the Unsullied arrive," Robert declared and led Missandei to a nice part of the town. Thanks to Daenerys' generous donation to his campaign, he had a lot of coin to spend.
Nobody stopped them there. Missandei spoke for Robert each time while he acted all high and annoyed. As the night approached, they had a lavish lodging rented in an upscale inn. Of course, Robert kept Missandei with him.
A little too close perhaps, as once the night fell, loud moans echoed from that particular floor. Flesh struck against flesh, a rhythm the two had gotten used to. While it helped Robert keep his mind calm, for Missandei, it was a rather satisfying ritual. Willing and needy, both let go of all restraints and simply lived in the moment.
The wooden floor creaked under the mighty weight of Robert on the bed and the beautiful, dusky woman underneath him. No doubt, a few patrons of the inn found no sleep that night.
There was simply nothing else to do, and his actions were in line with most rich merchants. Nobody ever suspected who he was.
The inn's keeper knew just one thing.
The man had coin and a beauty beside him.
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