####
Robert climbed.
He was tired, his fingers felt sore. Killing a thousand men was one thing, but climbing his weighty body by just using his nails and the tips of his fingers was another. At least he felt calm knowing that even if he fell, he wouldn't die.
"Mmmmmh…"
What's that sound?
As he neared the window, he heard loud, feminine cries. Although his destination was a large balcony, he quickly decided to go for the window in case someone needed help. Having been through the sacking of King's Landing, he understood how harshly the blades swung.
Moments later, he finally reached the open window. The sounds became clear, feminine, needy cries. And sure enough, a blonde girl was being speared, but not by a sword.
Robert's face darkened. He heard everything, all those moaning cries and words. He'd expected for Myrcella to have moved on by now. He'd pondered a lot and even forgave Sansa. They were young and curious girls, full of dreams about royal courts and kings.
But this was too much. It looked as if Myrcella's madness had only grown stronger.
What is wrong with her head? He asked himself, unable to look away. Her head thrashed left and right, her hair making a mess, sweat dotted her pale, glistening skin. Her legs spread wide, her hand moved in that wet, squelching furnace. The way she cried for his attention. What in the Seven Hells does she find attractive about this body?
Robert had changed from being a fat man addicted to whores and wine, to a man of pure strength. He'd gotten rid of excess fat and mostly gotten rid of his beer belly, although it never fully went away. His chest had hair that never stopped growing, he loomed over her delicate body like a bull. His face was just average. There was nothing beyond his status that a woman should desire.
Less so someone as beautiful as Myrcella. Cersei had many faults, but her beauty wasn't one. And that beauty had clearly been inherited by Myrcella.
And hearing her words, her obsession. It was confusing. She desired not his status but his body? His attention? Even seeking his scent? That was a first for him.
Having seen enough, he climbed in through the window and stood straight. His clothes were still soaked and clung to him like a second skin. He'd hoped Myrcella would stop after seeing him.
"Ooooh! Yes, yes, yes…."
To his utter dismay, she became more daring. She even turned her body towards him so he had a straight view of what lay between those stretched, open legs. Her tits jolted, her cunt bruised and swollen, blushing and drenched.
Robert no longer hated himself for it. His cock swelled on its own, it was natural. He was no longer angry at her but more confused. He'd offered Myrcella to find her a handsome husband, a lord. And no doubt, any lord would have married her for her beauty.
Yet she wanted him, a man more than twice her age, while she lay there at the apex of her beauty, femininity, fertility, ripe to be wed.
And then she climaxed. So loud, so much, so depraved—the scent was overwhelming in that room. Mixed with perfumes and her juices, her cunt throbbing towards him, her toned, glistening legs quivering in spasms. She squirted streams of sultry juices and drenched the bed, and droplets fell as far as his feet on the floor.
Did… Robert wondered if this change in her personality was due to the trauma of her mother's beheading. Let's deal with this later.
More than anything, he was worried for this girl. He'd seen her grow into a fine, respectful, and smart lady. This shouldn't be how it turned out. Somewhere, something had gone horribly wrong.
Robert sighed and just left. She was too hysterical to think straight.
"After this… I wish I wasn't, girl."
####
Robert walked straight to the small council. There was nowhere else Stannis could be, he reckoned. On his way, a lot of Kingsguards guarding the castle became alert. At first, they froze, and once they recognized him, they became frenzied.
He had to curse them a few times to make it clear that it was really him. It helped that he was simply far too easy to recognize due to his size.
Soon, about ten Kingsguards marched behind him in line. Once he arrived at the Small Council chamber, the two Kingsguards standing guard pushed the doors open for him.
Robert barreled in like he owned the place—which he did. "Sit your arse down. Time's short, and I'll be damned if I spend another breath on that bloody old cat."
They still rose to their feet. It was impossible not to do it. It was a shock since they hadn't heard anything about Robert arriving. Nor did they hear about him being in Braavos. Heck, how did he cross the enemy encampment?
"Y-Your Grace!" Tyrion exclaimed. "Yo—"
"Aye, it's me. Took my bloody time, didn't I? Long tale. Got tangled up with that Targaryen wench—handled now. Set sail the moment I caught wind of Lannister's damn mutiny and Tyrell's backstabbing. Tell me—what mess are we in?"
"How did you sail here?" Stannis inquired. "The port is blocked."
"I swam in from the bloody edge of Blackwater Bay. Now listen up, you lot. I want numbers—how bad's the damage?" Robert took the closest empty seat, which was beside Melisandre, to his dislike.
The members of the council stared at each other's faces dumbly. What did he mean by 'swam'? Was that a joke? Even small boats feared going too far out into the sea, and Robert said he just swam?
But they knew better not to drag needless things.
"We have the full strength of the Westerlands and the Reach poised outside our gates. Lord Tywin, in his infinite generosity, offers to spare the city—if Lord Stannis will kindly lay down his crown and hand it to your son with Margaery." Tyrion explained in short. "They number almost a hundred thousand men."
"The crown is not mine to give," Stannis sternly said.
Sighing, Robert crossed his arms. "And the bloody Tyrells? I sent word, didn't I? Told you I'm still breathing. So why in the seven hells are they with Tywin?"
Tywin was expected. But Tyrell's betrayal stung him. He'd agreed to marry Margaery, and once he knew she was pregnant, he was more than willing to make her the queen. But this betrayal soured it all. Even if he married her now, she'd only ever be the daughter of a traitor.
"Fits them perfectly, doesn't it? The Tyrells are as opportunistic as Father. Why wait for your glorious return—which, let's be honest, may never happen—when they can snatch the throne now, all for themselves? And if Father handed them his support on a golden platter, why would they say no?"
"That old hag," Robert growled. "Fine, I'll break the bloody siege myself. Tyrion, get ready to wear your father's boots. Stannis, we're joining all of the Reach into the Crownlands."
It sounded like a fool's errand. They simply didn't have enough men to fight. Let alone the Reach, they couldn't even fight the Lannisters alone.
"How?" Stannis inquired.
"With my fucking hammer." Robert stood up, his chair pushed back with a shriek. "I wasn't counting flowers in Essos."
Tyrion disagreed. "But still, it's an army of a hun—"
"He can do it." Melisandre interrupted them, her eyes full of fervor, even excitement. "He cannot be stopped."
"Damn right. And I'll do it alone!"
####
Robert needed no surprise tactics to battle anymore. He ordered Stannis to spread the word that King Robert has returned. It was expected that the enemies wouldn't believe it.
"Your Grace, please wear armor!"
"Your Grace, wear a helmet!"
"Your Grace, the gambeson is prepared!"
"Ugh, just give me my damn hammer, boy," Robert growled, ignoring all the Kingsguards trying to follow him out of the Red Keep.
It was chaos. But Robert chose not to explain himself because of how absurd it would sound. He ignored Stannis, Tyrion, and the Kingsguards, and walked out of the castle. Heck, he was just dressed in loose trousers and a full-sleeved, cotton tunic, airy and light.
As soon as he was done taking a bath, he decided to go ahead and face his enemies. With his warhammer in hand, he climbed onto a horse and trotted through the barren streets of King's Landing.
The fact was that the people were suffering. The naval blockade wasn't to stop ships from entering. But to starve the city to a point that people would rise against their ruler. It was a common tactic, and that's why Robert wanted the siege to end right away.
The land outside King's Landing's walls was dotted with houses, arbors, granaries, brick storehouses, timbered inns, merchant stalls, taverns, graveyards, and brothels. Although not as thriving as the main city, the area outside the city was a large part of the city's economy, too. And currently, all those people had taken refuge inside the city.
Robert could smell the scent of smoke. The enemy army had likely burned down all buildings outside the city. It was standard practice while laying siege. And it enraged Robert a lot. He was trying to fix the crown's mess, and Tywin was doing the opposite.
There is only one way this will end.
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