Robert wrestled for a while, and then they dragged a few more men into it.
Chett, Small Paul, and Ser Barristan were pulled in. They fought, and surprisingly, Small Paul ended up lifting him and throwing him like a sack of horseshit.
He laughed hard when Small Paul tried to grab Wylis from behind, only for Wylis to reverse it and throw Small Paul. Thanks for all the wet mud; none of them got badly injured despite the rough play.
An hour later, all of them retired to the hot springs in his private castle garden. They first scrubbed themselves outside, wiping away the dirt before soaking in the water.
Robert felt truly relaxed as he sank back in the steaming water, just his head above. He stared at the bright blue sky, a few clouds painting it more beautiful. He said nothing, eventually closing his eyes.
The North was strange, he felt. On one hand, he thought the land was poor and backwards, with nothing interesting happening. Yet, he felt it was better than the mess and chaos that was King's Landing. He still preferred the convenience of King's Landing, however.
Soon enough, Ser Barristan and Chett left, taking Small Paul with them. With just Wylis there, he finally spoke.
"I'll need a new kingsguard."
"Not Chett."
"I know," Robert said, though a bit disappointed. He could see the diamond in the rough that Chett was. "But I still need one. Someone I don't have to worry will stick a fucking knife in my ribs the moment I turn around."
"How about Ser Brynden Tully? He's old, aye, but still capable. His dealings with Hoster were never warm, yet he is Tully blood all the same. An honorable man, if you ask me. He's unwed, and at his years I doubt he means to change that."
Robert fell into thought. He'd seen Brynden in battle during the Rebellion. And since then, the man has been rotting in Vale, having taken the service with Lord Arryn. Through Jon, he felt he could persuade the old knight.
"That's one. Who else?"
"How many Kingsguard do you mean to have, Robert? There are no cloaks left to give."
Robert snorted. "Wylis, I'm surrounded by fools. After the war, I handed out favors like a drunken whore, and now every one of them's coming back to bite my ass. Trant and Greenfield aren't loyal to anything but coin and cunts. You spared me the mess of dealing with Moore. I can't lay a hand on the Lannister whelp, but the rest of them? I want them answering to me."
"You'll kill the two?"
"Accidents, Wylis. And a raven came this morning. Cersei's pregnant. I won't have fools around my lad, if it's a lad. Gods, I hope it's a lad after the last stillbirth. I might croak one day with my face in a flagon, piss-drunk, but I'll be damned if I leave my boy a steaming pile of shit to wade through."
"You bedded the queen before coming here?"
Robert frowned. What kind of question was that? "Aye, the bitch has an annoying voice, I grant you, but the gods gave her a pretty face and a tight cunt."
"..."
####
Wylis silently stared at his fool of a friend. He wasn't sure if Robert was telling the truth. Did he really breed Cersei? Asking for more details wasn't good, so he couldn't be sure about it until the child was born.
If it's a trueborn, then my arrival has changed a major thing.
What he did see was how convenient a time it was for Cersei to be pregnant now. If he didn't know any better, he'd have believed it as well. Regardless, he changed the topic.
"Aye, it helps to have a sound head nearby. Better still, on your own shoulders. I've lived among the smallfolk, and I'll tell you this. It takes no mad king to break a realm. A king who does nothing will do just as well. A mad king kills without mercy, wise men and fools alike. A slothful king forgives too freely and fills his hall with plotters and grasping men."
There weren't that many folks in the realm, high or low, who could speak to the King like that. But Wylis was one of the very few, after Jon and Eddard.
Splash!
He saw Robert stir and sit straight, eyes sharp.
"What are you implying? I'm a sloth?"
"Not yet, no. But look me in the face and swear by the old Gods and the new that you're still the same man who fought at the rebellion. Can you truly say you're not spending half your days swiving whores, drinking Arbor, and cramming your beard with greasy capon? I speak no treason against King Robert Baratheon. I speak to the friend I knew at Harrenhal."
He saw Robert's jaw clench. But someone had to wake him up to reality. And Wylis felt he had nothing to lose, even if he annoyed Robert a bit. That would mean the man wouldn't visit him often. It was a win-win.
"What else am I supposed to do? I'm the fucking king."
"You think the crown means nothing but wine, whores, and roast boar? What happened to the realm, Robert? We put a sword through Aerys because he was burning the kingdoms to ash. Sit the bloody Small Council, hang the rapists and cutthroats yourself, give the smallfolk a King who gives a damn. Be wise, be loved, leave a name worth remembering. First of the Baratheon dynasty, don't you want that name to mean something? Keep on as you are, and the singers will call you the Fat King, the Whoremonger, and nothing more."
Robert annoyedly grumbled, waving a hand. "Enough of that horseshit. I can have your fucking head for words like those."
"No better than a child covering his eyes to hide from the demon before him." Wylis shrugged back. He knew Robert didn't mean it.
"What do you want me to do, eh?" Robert asked, loud and on edge. "What's bloody left? You and Ned won me the fucking throne! I didn't win a damn thing. I was a useless sack of shit, flat on my back with a fever. From the Bells to the end, I… You won the battle at the Trident, not me."
Ah, so that's what it's about?
Wylis sighed. He knew his actions would eventually bite him in the ass. What he'd done to Robert was akin to stealing a man's pride. He'd deprived Robert of the battles he'd have won and be known for. Right now, this Robert before him was the one who lost pride in himself. Who doubted his own place in the world.
"You're the king, Robert."
"And what, you don't see it? Gods, it's plain enough. I'd have died at the Bells if not for you. That's how it should've gone. A warrior's end. Wounds first, then the fever. I didn't even raise my hammer at the Trident. There's no fucking honor in this life. The throne's a rusted heap of iron, that's all it is. Getting piss drunk isn't even a joy anymore. I drink because…"
"Because what?" Wylis asked back.
"Bah, piss on it. You wouldn't understand, not a chance. You can't. You're the savior of King's Landing, the Tyrant of the Trident. You… you just won't bloody get it."
Wylis stared at the King's face. Robert wasn't matching eyes with him for some reason, looking away into the distance. He tried to understand him, but he just couldn't. As a man who went from a stableboy to a Lord, he didn't understand why Robert was unhappy with the Crown. If it were just about gathering fame, victories, and honor, the Greyjoys would be next.
When that happens, I can push him.
Even if he had to draw out the war longer and more brutal than destined, he was ready to do this much for Robert. A sort of payback to the titles and fame he'd seized.
"Be a man, Robert. A real fucking man. Having a cock alone does not make you so. You're riding to Winterfell after this. You will meet my kin. Ask Old Nan about me. I was once a fat pig, a man of no worth. I carved this body myself because I felt a change in the air. I smelled war. I have never been wrong. Best you harden yourself, Robert. Another war is coming."
"What war?"
"How should I know? I only know there will be one. Carve yourself into the Warrior, Robert, as I did. I'll write down every step of how I managed it. I was a stableboy then, stealing meat and milk from the kitchens just to grow this strong. You're the King. It'll come easier to you. I will ride to King's Landing often for trade, and each time I will cross blades with you. If you look worse than before, I'll beat the piss out of you."
"..."
"I'm your fucking king, you do know that, don't you?"
Wylis almost laughed at the look on Robert's face. "Of course, I know. But who do you want me to be? An ass-licking noble at your feet or your old friend?"
"My friend, of course. But damn, I won't mind some ass licking from the Tyrant of the Trident."
"I fear I grant that only to women of beauty."
"Bah!" Robert barked with a laugh as he hauled himself out of the pool. "I'm bloody starving. Come on, let's go. This damn heat's starting to cook my brains."
Wylis got out as well, grabbing a towel from a nice wooden rack he'd made.
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Advance chapters on [PATREON] are in long-form format. I have 12 long chapters of this story on P@treon. That's equal to 45-50 Webnovel chapters.
Check out Wylis X Lyanna Stark NSFW Art & Wylis with Kids SFW ART, and advance chapters at [email protected]/MrPlotThickens Or Subscribestar.adult/mrplotthickens
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