Robert exhaled deeply and leaned back on his arms. He stared at her glowing form; golden hair splayed like a crown, her skin glistening, her cunt leaking the proof of her surrender. She looked like a princess. She was born for more. But she didn't want more.
She wanted this.
His personal whore. And she reveled in it.
Madness… but the sweetest kind.
"Worry not… I don't go back on my word."
Right away, Myrcella gave a charming, big smile, her pearl-white teeth glowing. In a true sense, she was made of charm.
Done for the night, Robert cleaned up and wore his clothes before returning to bed to rest. Myrcella, however, only cleaned up and without getting dressed, slid under the quilt to hug him and sleep.
At that point, he didn't even push her away. His thoughts were too preoccupied by morning's battle.
Margaery… my son… I'll save them.
####
"Your meal, Your Grace."
It wasn't very common to have a large breakfast in Westeros. Most would grab a quick, easy bite and be on their way to work. Most folks ate only twice a day. But that day, Robert ordered a big breakfast. Ten egg omelets, bowls full of meat, and a pitcher of wine.
Robert ate fast as the sun was about to rise beyond the horizon. After eating, he made his way into the armory and ordered the various squires managing it, polishing weapons, and sharpening blades.
"Bring my armor," Robert ordered and took a seat on a small bench. "And the antler helmet."
The squires rushed to do their job and started putting Robert's armor on his body. It wasn't a common thing for kings and nobles to don their complete armor as there were too many pieces. So, it took some time for all the pieces to come together and be tied.
"Hammer."
Two squires brought the famed warhammer of Robert to the front.
With ease, Robert gripped the hilt and slung it over his right shoulder. He stood there like a behemoth, his armor making his height appear larger than he already was.
Then, he walked out of the armory and arrived at the gates of the Red Keep. There, his horse was kept prepared by one of the Kingsguards. The Kingsguards there didn't look very pleased as they were once again ordered to stay behind. This time they were threatened with dishonorable discharge from the Kingsguard.
"Please reconsider, Your Grace."
Robert didn't even respond to them. Ser Barristan was still not back. It was unknown if the old man even knew that he had returned to King's Landing.
"HA!"
Robert steered the horse to gallop through the city streets, back to the gate he'd broken yesterday. He'd already received word in the morning. The Tyrells were dead, burned to death in the 'tragic' fire at the castle. But Margaery and his son were alive.
Of course, Tywin survived and now he stood not too far from King's Landing's Old Gate as it was already broken.
"Ha!"
Robert didn't stop and passed through the massive broken hole in the gate. Some carpenters and blacksmiths were at the scene, repairing the broken gate.
The hooves clopped hard on the road. The armor clanked loudly. Soon enough, a marching army was visible in the distance, at least thirty thousand strong. But most of them flew Tyrell banners, and in command was none other than Loras Tyrell. At the far back of the marching army was the lone man in full golden armor and red cape, Jaime Lannister.
Tywin played well.
Robert unholstered his warhammer and gripped it to the side with one arm. With the other hand, he gripped the reins of the horse and made it go faster.
The distance between Robert and the army grew shorter.
Soon, just a few meters remained.
And then…
"SHOULD HAVE TAKEN THE DEAL!"
Robert roared and let the horse leap high, its legs folded, majestic, beautiful, but suicidal—for the Tyrell army.
BAM!
Robert swung from the back of his horse with such inhuman brute force that a single swing completely shattered and beheaded five fully armored, helmet-wearing soldiers. A splash of gore and blood came so vast that the crimson blood itself rained down moments later.
The terror spread instantly.
"I gave you the chance! WHERE IS MARGAERY!"
BOOM!
Robert jumped down from his horse as the horse wasn't as strong as him. Alone, he used both hands to smash his warhammer into the crowds while ignoring all the swords and spears that tried to stab or slash at him. Most failed, thanks to his fine armor.
But those who met Robert's strike were not so lucky. Each of his massive, wide hammer swings was like a gardener cutting tall grass with a scythe and paving a way for himself.
BAM!
Every single strike killed more than ten Tyrell soldiers, and the death didn't come instantly in that crowd. Chests smashed, heads half caved in, ribs cracked and punctured into lungs. Blood and loud, raging, demonic cries of agony filled the battlefield.
Robert, in his antler helmet, looked no less than a devil.
"WHERE IS MY SON?!"
He roared and continued to charge forward, paving himself a clean road on the corpses of Tyrell soldiers. Bones, flesh, blood, it was like a crimson pond beneath his feet. And his own body turned into a bloody mess too, like a man baptized in blood.
WOOSH!
BAM!
The sound of the hammer cutting through the air was always followed by loud thuds and clanks. Entire squads vanished from the army. From the leaders to the men under. Captains with their finer armors fell instantly.
At that point, Robert was indeed cutting, not smashing his way through them like they were just long grass. Of course, some lucky stabs struck him from the gaps of his armor, but they didn't matter to him. As if he were simply unable to feel pain.
By the time Robert reached the middle of the Tyrell army of thirty thousand, men started to hesitate before approaching him. At the end of the day, nobody wanted to die.
And just when everyone thought Robert had reached Loras Tyrell, atop his horse, Robert simply walked past the frozen Tyrell Knight.
BAM!
Left and right, there were only dead bodies and cries. He was no longer human, he knew that before.
That day, the entire world saw.
"YOU!"
Robert crouched slightly and then leaped forward with every ounce of strength in him. His jump reached a fantastic height of twice his size. He flew over the heads of the last few lines of Tyrell soldiers, his entire focus aimed at the lone horseman in the far back.
By the time the horseman woke up from the stupor, Robert had already closed in and…
"HAAAAAA!"
With a single downward slam of his warhammer the beautiful, white horse died instantly, its entire head neatly shattered, beheaded before its body could fall.
THUD!
"Argh! R-Robert… Y—Monster!"
Robert ignored those guttural cries and groans. "Jaime fucking Lannister—I should have beheaded you with your sister. Even after fucking your own twin and siring bastards you didn't learn any lesson? And I remember breaking each of your limbs. Who healed you?!"
Robert reached down and clawed Jaime Lannister's throat and as if he weighed nothing, he lifted Jaime in the air, ignoring the crunches that echoed as Jaime's leg, stuck under the dead horse, got twisted because of his merciless pull.
"Ugh… Aaaaargh!" Jaime groaned in pain.
Robert sneered, a smile creeping. He—the Ned side within him, remembered that day when Jaime attacked him and how he injured his leg.
Not today.
Robert had come with a purpose. He wanted to kill Jaime, but not at that moment. If he killed Jaime, then Tywin would also kill Margaery and his son. It was better to kill the Old Lion and his son together later.
"Kingslayer!" Robert roared at Jaime, flailing like a child as he choked him in the air. "Go and tell your father—Tell him I'm coming! A storm's coming for House Lannister! All but his loathed imp will be crushed beneath my hammer! You won't survive this time, all of you!"
And then, Robert threw Jaime away into the clear opening.
Panting, Jaime crawled backward to get away from Robert's monstrous figure, his entire frame soaked in blood, his hammer still reeking of flesh. But Robert wasn't done roaring at him, and Jaime did feel his heart shake.
"Go and tell him! The bards will no longer sing of Castamere but of the day when the gold ran red, when I struck, the Doom of Casterly Rock!"
With that, Robert turned back to face the Tyrell army, more than twenty-five thousand still stood, but now with fear and hesitation.
Robert stood in their path of retreat. So, there was only one way for them to go.
"May this hammer send you screaming to the Stranger's hall!"
______________________
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