####
The nine hundred Tyrell men that Robert spared returned home and spread the word.
The leftover Lannister men Robert spared found the mutilated body of Jaime Lannister and the entire butchered hall. Robert's corpse was gone, and Margaery was also missing.
Early morning, when the Great Sept of Baelor's bell rang, a massive crowd gathered at the execution grounds of King's Landing. Due to the blockade, the city didn't have eggs and rotten vegetables to throw. So, people were advised to bring animal dung, though it was questionable if it was all from animals.
The City Watch had made the announcement that the King would appear and punish the traitors. So, the smallfolk were excited. Hopeful that the siege would end.
"MOVE!"
When the bells of the sept stopped ringing, Robert arrived on his large stallion, dressed in regal robes, a crown on his head. Flanked by Kingsguards, with a carriage not far behind.
Robert got down from his horse and helped Margaery out of the carriage. Then, with her, he walked upstairs to the execution platform. The smallfolk recognized Margaery and cursed at her, almost prepared to throw shit.
"HOLD YOUR BLOODY HANDS!" Robert bellowed, dragging Margaery close with a firm arm.
"This is Margaery Tyrell, daughter of the Tyrells! She was held by the Lannisters, and the brat in her arms? My son! The Lannisters used him to twist the Tyrells. Now, she's all that's left of her damn family—show some respect! She's your queen, you hear me? The mother of my son, and, gods willing, many more to come!"
In swift words, Robert absolved House Tyrell. Not because he forgave it. But rather, he was going to own it anyway. His second son with Margaery would take over Highgarden.
Blushing, Margaery smiled and stepped to the side. Right then, the Kingsguard brought over Tywin Lannister, alive and well, every limb perfect.
Instead of an execution block, a large cross was placed. Tywin was then tied to it, arms spread wide, tied with metal chains. But he wasn't hung up in the air, his legs were left standing.
"This is Tywin Lannister, the man who schemed against the Crown. Dared to hurt my woman and my son! He is the man who befriended the wretched Iron Islanders! This man blocked Blackwater Bay—every damn misfortune you've suffered? It's all down to him!"
"KILL HIM!"
"BEHEAD HIM!"
The smallfolk were riled up.
"No!" Robert announced, looking at Tywin. The old man didn't look up. Constantly staring at his feet, his eyes hazy, as if already dead.
"Bah! Killing him? That's too fine a gift for the bastard! Too quick, too clean! No, no—I'll see him rot slowly. From this day on, a Kingsguard will carve a new gash in him each sunrise. No meat, no water, nothing! Let the sun cook him, let the blood drain bit by bit. And you lot—aye, have your sport! Toss what you like at him, so long as the wretch lives to suffer it!"
"YEAAAAAAH!"
The smallfolk cheered.
"Kingsguard, break his damn legs so he may never escape! Then strip him bare, hang the plaque on his chest, and carve a wound on his right arm." Robert gave a flurry of orders.
Trrrr~
The clothes were torn apart.
The wooden plaque was hung on Tywin's neck.
A cut was made on Tywin's right arm.
"Ah, before you lot start your celebrations!" Robert waved at the crowd of smallfolk. "In three days, I'll be wed to Margaery Tyrell. And mark my words, before then, I'll see to it that this damned blockade is lifted!"
"King Robert!"
"Long live the King!"
"Long live the King!"
The smallfolk chanted. Robert walked down from the execution platform with Margaery as it would soon be covered in shit.
Bam!
Thud!
Plop!
Soon after, Tywin Lannister stopped looking like a man entirely. The wound on his body would allow the disease from the feces to seep in.
Jaime's death was nothing compared to what lay ahead for Tywin.
As for Robert, he returned to the Red Keep with his queen-to-be, this time sitting in her carriage. Tywin would be guarded day and night by the Kingsguards and City-Watch, ensuring the man suffered the most.
"Margaery, I need you to send word to Lord Redwyne. Tell him to recall his fleet."
####
As soon as Tywin's capture was declared to the realm, all voices of revolt and treason died down. With his marriage to Margaery declared afterward, the Redwyne fleet returned to the Reach. The Lannister fleet also returned as it didn't all belong to Tywin. And nobody wanted to face the King's ire any more.
The Ironborn tried to play dirty, but before the Redwyne fleet left, it tried to threaten the Ironborn with retaliation if an attack on King's Landing was attempted.
In the end, the siege was lifted after two days. On the third day, a small wedding took place in the Red Keep with a handful of lords and ladies and an abundance of food and wine.
The marriage was slightly rushed and concluded fast. Margaery didn't have any direct family left, so Robert had kept it confined and small. The feast was still grand, but no bedding ceremony was allowed.
In a joking manner, Robert declared that if anyone wanted to do it, they must first defeat him. Sure enough, nobody came forward, and the feast proceeded with gentle music, wine, and laughter.
Robert II Baratheon, a confusing name for most, sat in Robert's lap, sleeping. The small babe was too small to even know what was going on. Beside his chair, Margaery sat in a beautiful, azure wedding gown.
Still, rituals were to be honored. As the feast came to an end, Robert rose from his chair, gave his arm to Margeary, and slowly walked towards his royal bedchamber with her. Their young son was handed over to a trusted nanny for the time being.
"How does it feel to be the queen?" Robert asked her on the way, feeling her soft hand gripping his arm. While she still only reached up to his chest, birthing him a son had gifted her with a few more curves and flesh in all the right places. Her rear was plump and her breasts swelled to nurture.
Now, as she was his wife, Robert felt no shame in eyeing her with sexual intent. If not her, then who else, after all? Even his initial apprehension regarding their age had vanished.
"I feel... proud, yes. But also a little ashamed." Margaery responded, hugging his arms tighter. "Without you, what am I? I was so naive to think I could control your mind, that my charms alone would win your heart. Grandmother always said a woman's beauty was her greatest weapon, but now... I see it as a gift. And together, we've created something far more precious than any crown. Our son. No weapon could compare."
"But your beauty is certainly a weapon."
Robert opened the door to his bedchamber and let her walk in.
Margaery giggled and watched him shut the door behind him. "A weapon that will only ever be wielded by one… great… man."
Gods! She still has a witty mouth. Robert chuckled at her response and looked at her intently. Her curly, thick brown hair was well-made, draping her head beautifully. Her gown, her jewelry, her face, and her beautiful eyes invited him.
Well, it is a bedding ceremony. So what if we already had a son?
Robert loosened his surcoat and walked towards his wife. While he felt no romance, he reckoned the lust would keep their relationship fresh for plenty of years to come. Perhaps love and romance will flourish too, eventually. He already cherished her for giving him a son.
He threw away his surcoat and stood right in front of Margaery, gazing down at her delectable face. His large hands came up, one felt her waist, and the other cupped her cheeks. He watched her nestle her face in his palm.
"And when do you suppose I can wield this weapon?"
Margaery giggled and used her slim fingers to pinch his tunic and push it up. She shoved her hands underneath the fabric and felt his belly, and chest, the trace of his masculine hair. A low purr left her lips, not at all unwilling to his desire that evening. She saw it in his eyes, raw, full of passion. She felt the same.
"I am your wife, Your Grace—Wield me whenever, however, anywhere you please."
Seven hells! She knows exactly what to say to get a man going.
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