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Tywin and a few Westerlands lords gathered in the great hall of the castle for a feast. They expected it to be the last one there and hoped to feast tomorrow inside King's Landing. At the throne room.
"Your Grace, many congratulations on your upcoming marriage."
Jaime received plenty of blessings. In that hall, only ten lords and fifteen knights were present, but not a single one of them had any doubts. They knew that Jaime would be the King with Tywin advising his son. With Westerlands and the Reach joined, there was no army in the Seven Kingdoms strong enough to stop them.
"This is no time for revelry." Tywin rose to his feet, coldly eying the lords there. Maintaining his prestige as the bigger guy was important to him. Showing them that he was ruthless was important. "We have not won—we have merely begun to take what is owed. When the Red Keep falls, Robert's bastards are to be found and ended, each and every one. Stannis will run, as cornered dogs do, but we shall close every road before him. The Ironborn and Lannister fleets will seal the sea. You, my lords, will seal the land. I want every gate watched, every wall manned, and the hounds loosed. No rat escapes the city."
The lords and knights agreed vocally, cheering for it.
"Once the crown is secured, y—"
Knock! Knock!
"Once t—"
Knock! Knock!
Tywin ignored the knock once, but the second time tested his patience. He eyed a Lannister soldier nearby to go and check it. It wasn't as if the doors were locked, so there was no need to knock.
The Lannister soldier went over and opened the double doors.
Woosh!
For a quick flash, something appeared over the soldier's head.
And then, with a very disgusting sound, and also bloody, the soldier's body was split apart, falling sideways, half of the body on each side. From head to toe, in a perfect slice. Brain matter spilled, the lungs, the intestines.
"GUARDS!" Tywin shouted.
Creak!
But then the doors opened wider and a bloodied, tall figure walked in. Easily, instantly recognized as every man in that hall had seen the dead body.
"Calm your tits, Tywin," Robert grumbled and entered the great hall. But he didn't rush and turned around to close the door behind him. Then, he grabbed the dead Lannister soldier's sword, slid it between the large door handles of the two doors, and with ease, bent the sword to lock the exit.
At last, Robert looked back inside the hall and smiled. He looked no less than a demon.
"I heard you're going to wed your sister-fucking son to my woman? Is that right? By the gods, now that I look at you, I can't help but wonder if Aerys took your wife to bed and gave you those vile, mad twins." Robert's voice boomed, his gaze sweeping over the room. "When I'm done with you all, I'll carve up the Westerlands nicely."
"STOP HIM!"
It was unknown who shouted it. Or who started it? It wasn't Jaime Lannister, that was for sure. But again, Westerlands was filled with proud fools.
Woosh!
Thud!
Robert sliced whoever came close to him as if butchering dead game. His short sword severed entire heads, and at times, entire torsos. The whole time, Robert didn't even move an inch on foot. It was all the knights who jumped on him first and died. Then came the lords.
In the end, only the old and cowardly ones survived. They tried to slam on other doors, but they all seemed locked.
"Don't try. Did you really think the servants of the castle would cheer if you came out of nowhere, butchered the castle's lord, and then forced the servants to dance to your whims? The doors are locked—It ends tonight."
Robert finally walked towards the remaining lords. He purposefully left Tywin and Jaime for last. They hadn't moved an inch from their high table. If they'd heard about his fight with Tyrells, they probably knew it was useless.
"P-Please… No… Forgive me, Your Grace… I was forced! Yes, Tywin forced—"
BAM!
Instead of using a sword, Robert kicked the fallen lord in his face, shattering it as if watermelon. He was now even stronger than last night. There was no joy in battle anymore. He felt like he was killing little toddlers while being an elephant.
"Seven hells, how many damned times must I do this?" Robert wiped the last of them from his blade and turned to Tywin and Jaime. "I left you alive back then. Sent you to the Wall. I didn't blame you for your whore daughter, Tywin."
Tywin said nothing.
"How are you alive?" Jaime asked.
Robert didn't reply either. He walked over to the two and grabbed Jaime's tunic, lifting him up.
"Now, I'm going do what I should've done long ago. I'll take my sweet time with Jaime, and you'll watch the whole bloody thing, Tywin. Don't fret, I won't put you down just yet. All your damn pride, your clever little schemes—I'm gonna tear 'em apart piece by piece."
Thud!
Robert threw Jaime to the floor and the famed knight could do nothing. He already had a permanently broken leg, bones shattered twice.
"Let's start with your hands."
Robert squatted beside Jaime, grabbed his arm, and while looking at Tywin's face, swung down the short sword.
"Aaaaaargh! Father!"
Jaime's hand was chopped off entirely from the wrist.
"Shut up, you!" Robert coldly grabbed the severed hand and jammed it into Jaime's mouth.
Then, he grabbed the other hand.
Woosh!
"Unnnnnngh! Mmmmm!"
"Time for legs." Robert shifted a little and without needing to grab the legs, sliced his blade downwards.
Clank!
The blade struck through to the ground. Jaime's right foot also got severed.
"The other one." Robert aimed for the next foot. He looked at Tywin at the same time. "What say you, Tywin? Your crippled boy. Don't fret, he won't last. But I'll make sure Tyrion gets Casterly Rock next. That should ease your old, bitter soul."
Tywin stood frozen, weak, powerless there.
"Mmmmmgh…!"
Jaime kept groaning in pain. But there wasn't much he could do.
"Let's go for the entire arms and legs now." Robert shifted again and chopped Jaime's right arm from the shoulder joint.
"Unnnngh!" Jaime's blood-red eyes scared nobody.
"What a brave, sister-fucking knight you are, Jaime. Such a high pain tolerance. Gods, you've got guts. Should've passed out hours ago. Let's see what's left in you."
CHOP!
Robert severed the left arm then. Surprised that Jaime was still alive.
"Let's go for the legs."
CHOP!
At last, the muffled screams of Jaime grew fainter.
Clank!
Robert finally finished his masterpiece. All limbs, from the origin joints, severed. Jaime was left as nothing but a torso, a head, and a cock. Still alive, but clearly not enough to survive. The remaining body was writhing profusely, the heart giving in, blood loss too great.
"What do you think, eh?" Robert got up and stood beside Tywin, watching Jaime's dying body. "Found a fine place in Volantis for preserving skulls. Got that Targaryen pretender's skull still, you know. I swear, Tywin, I'll keep your boy and your damn skulls close—together even in death. Sister-fucker and Lord Tywin, the man Aerys cucked—sounds like a damn fine plaque to hang right under your skulls in the throne room. A proper tribute."
It was Robert's goal to humiliate the man. To make him feel utterly hopeless and broken. To let Tywin know that his decades worth of legacy will be undone.
"Gluk~"
Eventually, Jaime's mouth started foaming blood. Death really came slowly to the famed knight. The famed sister fucker.
"What a mess. Nobody deserves such a slow death." Robert pitted verbally, shaking his head. "But he does."
Eventually, when it became clear that Jaime was dead, Robert went closer to the corpse and swung for the last time.
Squelch—CLANK!
He severed the head and lifted it up by the golden blonde hair. "Hmm, now that I think on it, maybe I won't hang your bloody heads in the throne room after all. Myrcella's a good girl, sweet as honey, even if she's born of that damned incest couple. Don't think I'd want her laying eyes on her father's severed skull. Aye, here's a thought—I'll send your heads to Chataya's brothel, let 'em hang there. That'll be a proper tribute to the Old Lion, eh?"
"Kill me too and be done with it, Robert."
Robert smiled dangerously, shaking his head. "I'm nowhere near done dismantling your name and fame, Tywin. You'll die, but slowly, naked, shamed, in the middle of King's Landing—I'll slowly dry you in the sun. I'll hang a plaque from your neck—A Lannister has paid his debt."
Bam!
A quick jab of the hilt of his sword on Tywin's nape, Robert sent the old man tumbling down to his knees, passing out.
He slung Tywin on one shoulder, grabbed Jaime's head, and walked towards a smaller door. He knocked on it a few times and the servants quickly opened it.
"Out! All of you! Leave the castle."
As per the agreed plan, Robert, alongside Margaery and his son, with the servants, escaped from Hayford castle through a secret passage. It was still dark, so they easily made their way south, toward King's Landing.
Halfway through, Stannis appeared with a hundred or so men. Allegedly, the Red Priestess guided Stannis to make a move.
"Let them be. No point in making more widows and orphans." Robert decided not to go back and kill the remaining men. They were all leftover soldiers. All the lords and high-ranking knights were dead. The Westerlands was already devastated.
In the dark of night, Robert returned to the Red Keep. However, the bigger issue remained. The Ironborn fleet, Lannister fleet, and Redwyne fleet still blockaded Blackwater Bay.
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