Robert Baratheon POV
A wench in his lap. A cup of wine in his hand. His trusty Warhammer to his side. And being surrounded by his men in the Great Hall of Seagard as they cheered and celebrated yet another victory against the Ironborn.
What more could a man need.
"Your grace, should I pour you some more wine?" A man asked from beside him and just like that, some of his good cheer was ruined.
"No." He replied, a bit harshly as he stared at the weak chinned face of Ser Jared Frey.
Now that all the danger has passed, Lord Walder Frey has finally decided to move out from his seat and grace them with his presence.
And with Walder Frey and his army, had come Ser Jared Frey, whose great grandmother had been a Mallister by name.
The man wanted to rule Seagard since the main line of the Mallister family unfortunately ended trying to protect the Riverlands from the Ironborn scum.
But like hell he'll give this fine castle to some cowardly Frey fuck. He would destroy its castle and turn its hall to dust before he would ever give it to a Frey.
He sipped from his cup and cupped the bosom of the wench sitting on his fine lap. His mood lifting a bit as he groped her breast and she massaged his cock in turn.
But by the gods did the girl have some fine tits in her. And a pretty Northern face as well. Not as pretty as Lyanna though. No one would ever be as pretty as Lyanna in his eyes.
He closed his eyes and envisioned smashing Rhaegar's chest in with his Warhammer at the Ruby Ford. His lips lighting up in a vicious smile as he imagined killing that bastard once again.
Then he heard hurried footsteps coming toward him and saw a young squire rushing up to the Dias with a parchment in his hand.
"Your grace. More news from Saltpen." The squire said and he gestured for the boy to continue.
"Ser Barristan has recovered from his wounds and would survive." The boy announced and the halls erupted into cheers.
He smiled as well. He did not like Ser Barristan as much as the others did. What with the man having been a Dragon supporter during his Rebellion, but he did held great respect for him.
"What else?" He asked.
The boy looked at the parchment once again and read its content before replying.
"The Ironborn routed by Ser Barristan were ambushed and slaughtered by Lord Yohn Royce near Maidenpool. Maron Greyjoy was with them and has been captured."
Another series of cheers erupted from the men in the hall as they started chanting Yohn Royce's name.
And for a good reason as well.
The combined forces of all their armies have been destroying the Ironborn one after another in the past few moons.
It has been a vicious game of cat and mouse, with the Ironborn barely escaping with their lives in most of the assaults.
But eventually, their overwhelming numbers prevailed, and Ironborn were whittled down to only a few Longships.
Seeing that all was about to be lost, Rodrik Greyjoy gathered the last of the Ironborn with him and decided to attack and breach the barricade set up near Saltpen. A barricade that was commanded by Ser Barristan and his army.
Ser Barristan thankfully learned about the imminent Ironborn attack from Maidenpool who saw the Ironborn sailing through the River and he and his army were well prepared when the Ironborn eventually launched their attack.
The battle started at early dawn and lasted for two hours before Ser Barristan managed to slay Rodrik Greyjoy, suffering some wounds in the process.
The death of their commander was enough to break the morale of the Ironborn and they retreated back up the river with Maron Greyjoy as their new commander.
And now with the news that Maron Greyjoy and his party were ambushed and dealt with, the Riverlands were finally rid of the last of them.
"That's good new, aye." He said with a smile as he raised his wine cup and shouted. "Bring in more wine! And let us celebrate the death of the last Ironborn who dared to land on our shores!"
The men cheered and he sat back down on his chair, the wench coming back to sit on his lap once again.
He watched the rowdy men drink more wine and celebrate the death of the last of the Greyjoys who thought that it was a good idea to attack the mainland.
Now, all they needed to do was bring the Royal Fleet to this side of the Sea, sail to Iron Islands, and deal with the fucking Ironborn once and for all.
He turned to his side to where Hoster Tully was sitting with a stoic gaze on his face and a thoughtful look in his eyes. The man no doubt thinking about all the damage that Riverlands had suffered so far in this war. And how to go about undoing all that damage. Or not undoing it, in case of his rivals.
"Hoster!" He shouted and the old bastard turned to give him a questioning stare. "When will the Royal Fleet reach Seagard?"
"The Royal Fleet is currently dealing with the last of the Ironborn who escaped the Battle of Kings Landing your grace." Hoster replied. "Lord Stannis has taken control of the Gullet, ensuring that none of those ships will escape the Blackwater Bay and has been capturing all those ships and adding them to the Royal Fleet one by one. His last report stated that he has captured almost all of the escaped warships so it shouldn't be long now."
"Finally some good news from my dour brother." He thought out loud as he drank some more wine.
He won't lie about the fact that he was immensely disappointed by Stannis' performance in this war.
The man was late to the Battle of the Arbor, and allowed the Redwyne Fleet to be destroyed. Then he was late to the Battle of Kings Landing, where his own family would've certainly died if they had not managed to attain a slim victory from the jaws of defeat.
Admittedly, the credit for that victory went to Stannis' son. And if that were not the case, then he would have definitely punished Stannis for his obvious failures in this war.
The thoughts of the Battle of Kings Landing, brought him back to the rumours he'd heard about Stannis' son.
When he first got the news from Jon about the boy leading an army to save Kings Landing, he had been proud. Proud that there was another Baratheon in their family who was as good at war as he had been in his youth.
But then, as time passed, more and more news started to trickle out from Kings Landing. And the more that he learned about the battle, the more outlandish it seemed.
A few letters exchanged with Jon had cleared some of the confusion. Though the resulting picture still seemed unbelievable to him.
Using Wildfire to destroy the Ironborn Fleet? Using a glowing sword to cut through hundreds of Ironborn? Defeating Euron Greyjoy in a single duel?
He wondered if the burden of ruling had become too much for his foster father, and if old Jon was finally going senile in his old age.
No matter, once he has dealt with these fucking Ironborn, he'll go back to Kings Landing and get to the bottom of all of this himself.
"Your Grace." He heard a familiar voice to turned to see the plump face of Lancel Fucking Lannister. His squire. A weak boy who'll no doubt grow up to be a weak man.
He frowned at the boy. "What is it boy? Spill it out!"
The boy quaked in his boots at earning his displeasure but gathered his courage and handed him a letter.
"Do I look like I'm in the mood to read a letter?" He asked as he as sloshed his cup, spilling some of the wine on the wench sitting on is lap. "Read it! And tell me what it is about."
Lancel nodded and started reading the letter. And his mood got worse and worse the more the boy read.
The gist of the letter was that Stephen Baratheon managed to get the Valyrian Steel sword Nightfall during the Battle of Kings Landing.
The clever boy changed its hilt and pommel to one that looked more Baratheon, and then changed its name to Stag Song before taking the blade for himself.
Seeing as he was the Head of House Baratheon, Lord Tywin Lannister asked if he would be willing to sell the Valyrian Sword to him. Or barring that, he'll take the Valyrian sword from Stephen and give it his own son Joffrey.
He scoffed at the letter. And at Tywin's presumptuousness.
Even if he could take the Valyrian sword from Stephen, which he can't, he won't do it.
He was usually not interested in politics. But even he knew that taking such a valuable sword from the boy who won it in a battle (a battle which ended up saving the lives of his own children), would end up marking him as a Tyrannical ruler.
And that's if the boy would even deign to give the sword to him and not rebel right then there.
He knew that if he had won such a blade in his youth, and the mad king asked him to give up that blade, then he wouldn't have handed it over no matter what.
So no, he won't be breaking apart his family just so he could give such a valuable treasure to Tywin fucking Lannister.
"Send a letter to Casterly Rock, and tell you lord Lannister, that he won't be getting the sword." He told the quivering boy before he dismissed him, getting some much needed peace at last as buried his face in the large bosom of the wench.
A wench on his lap, a cup of wine in his hand, his trusted Warhammer by his side, and surrounded by his loyal and brave men.
Truly, what else could a man need?
—
Stephen Baratheon POV
"I swear on me life milord. I'll not fail you." The man said as he bowed to him again and again.
"That's your grace to you, peasant. Not milord." One of his guards said and he held the urge to sigh.
"It's alright." He told the man who looked terrified that he'd disrespected the 'Saviour of Kings Landing'. "No harm, no foul. Do your best to run this shipyard and produce new ships for me in time. That's all I ask of you."
The man nodded frantically as he got up from his chair and left the building that was in between the two shipyards he'd just bought.
The two shipyards belonged to a man by the name of Jeremy Stone. A man who came to the city in his youth with nothing but the clothes on his back.
The man was a true example of a rags to riches story. As despite his poverty, he eventually found great success in the city, and managed to purchase various successful businesses, marry the daughter of a rich merchant and father many children.
Unfortunately, the man and his family ended up dying to the Ironborn during the Battle of Kings Landing. And his distant relatives who inherited these two shipyards neither had the capability nor the interest in running them.
So he bought it from them at a cheap price. Just as he'd done with many other damaged or destroyed properties and businesses throughout Kings Landing.
By this point, he was the owner of 4 inns, 9 taverns, 2 brothels (discreet purchase), 1 gambling den, 4 shipyards, 13 warehouses, 1 mansion, 4 tannery, 3 bakeries, and a dozen other miscellaneous businesses and properties.
These two shipyards were his most expensive purchase up till this point. Being sold for a total of 1,230 gold dragons.
The price might seem a bit high. But during peace time, these same shipyards would've been worth 6000-7000 gold dragons. As they were high quality shipyards capable of producing a ship every month.
Of course, he'll have to pay some more gold in order to repair the damaged parts of the shipyards, and hire competent and reliable men to run them. But once all that has been done, he'll have a pretty profitable business in his hand. One that'll create new trade ships for him every month once it's up and running.
Admittedly, the hardest part of his plan to 'Purchase and own valuable Properties' in Kings Landing had been hiring decent, competent, and loyal people to run those properties.
His new skill 'Delegation Lvl 31' has been of immense help in their endeavour as it gave him a higher chance of finding and selecting competent and reliable people.
That, along with Observe skill, allowed him to make sure that he only hired the best people for the task. Even if those best people came from a low background and didn't look like much at the start.
"We're done for the day. Let's ride back to the Red Keep." He told his men as he covered his face with a hood so that their group won't be flocked by the masses on their way back to the castle.
One of the negative things that came with his great victory in the Battle of Kings Landing was that he became immensely famous. Not only in the eyes of the men he'd fought with but also in the eyes of the small folk of the city whose lives he'd indirectly saved with his action.
So whenever he went out to the city, his group was flocked by Small Folk who wanted him to 'bless' them.
He had heard some of the rumours that were going around in the city about him. About how he was champion of the Gods. But it still came as a great surprise to him when he was surrounded by a great mob of people the first time he decided to go into the city.
He had thought that he and his guards was about to be lynched until a thin wisp of a woman brought her newborn babe to him, asking for his blessings for her child.
As weirded out as he was by the entire scenario, he acted with the calm and rational mind of a Gamer and used his Shaper power to heal the baby as he 'blessed' her.
It was a spur of the moment thing. Done because he didn't want the babe to die of some stupid disease in the future. But that single act set a tone of his future 'blessings'.
Following the woman was a young couple who asked for his blessing for their new marriage.
So put his hand on top of their heads, used his Shaper power to heal any disease in their body, and muttered a silent prayer to the gods, to give some authenticity for his 'blessing'.
This opened a flood gate as more and more people came to him to be blessed and he lost 3 whole hours before they were able to make their way out of the mob and escape back to the safety of the Red Keep.
The problem came later that evening, when one of the barber announced that his young daughter, who had been sick before that day, had been miraculously healed after he 'blessed' her.
The barber's words were recounted by numerous other people who claimed to have felt far better than they'd felt in years after they were 'blessed' by him.
Word spread like wildfire, and soon, everyone in Kings landing knew that his 'blessings' healed people of any disease or infection.
So now, whenever he goes out to Kings Landing, he has to do so discreetly, lest he be surrounded by a mob once again.
If going to Kings Landing had been difficult before, then it was downright impossible at this point. His Make up, Disguise, Stealth, and Roleplay skill have increased by more than a few levels in the past few weeks.
Not that he was entirely safe in the Red Keep either, as servants, guards, knights and even some of the lords came to him, asking for his blessings.
At least they were polite about it and didn't mob him like the people in the city.
Melisandre had somehow learned about this (probably from her frighteningly accurate visions) and had sent a discreet letter to him, telling him to capitalise on this opportunity and hold a session in the Great Sept of Baelor where he'll 'bless' the believers of the Faith. And solidify his position as a champion of the Faith.
He had been extremely leery of this advice as he didn't want to become a religious figure to these people. But he also knew that this situation could be turned to an advantage and decided to follow her guidelines on how such things were done.
It had taken some time and effort to bribe the High Septon through intermediaries, but eventually he was able to hold his first 'blessing' session in the Sept of Baelor after one of the morning prayers.
Thousands of people came to him. Thousands were blessed. And thousands left with a story about painful joints that no longer causing pain, scars that healed on their own, disease that no longer bothered them, etc, etc.
That had been three weeks ago. And after that, he held two more 'blessing' sessions at the end of each week.
Due to that, he was now seen as a… well, he wasn't entirely sure what exactly he was seen as. Just that he had become an extremely respectable figure in the eyes of the small folk of Kings Landing.
Respectable to the point that people were willing to kill anyone who so much as spoke a bad word about him.
Something that Cersei's servants found out first hand when they tried to spread false rumours about him.
They passed by a tavern on their way to the Red Keep and he heard the soft lyrics of a new song named 'Blessed Victory' being sung by the people inside.
It was one of the 4 new songs that emerged after the Battle of Kings Landing. Songs that became famous mainly because they were about him, his valour, his glory and his great victory against the wicked Ironborn.
The other 3 songs were named 'Sword of the Dawn', 'Sea of Fire', and 'Warrior's Hammer'.
He had liked those songs at first. But then, everyone around started singing them day and night and he got tired of them real quick.
At this point, he just hoped that these songs won't follow him back to Dragonstone.
Though he knew that there was slim chance of that happening. Not when all his knights and guards knew those songs by heart.
As they reached closer to the Red Keep, his thoughts went back to Cersei once again.
It has been a moon since that... encounter. And the woman has been steadfastly ignoring him since then.
Oh, she has done her best to damage his reputation through backhanded means. And he himself had seen to the death of one of her singers who tried to create a song that'll damage his reputation.
But despite the cold war going on in between them, she had made little to no indication on the surface that there was anything wrong between them. Only doing her best to avoid meeting him. And glaring just a bit when their eyes met from the distance before she turned and left.
He knew that he'll have to deal with her eventually, maybe give her a disease that'll leave her bedridden and too weak to plot against him. But for now, she wasn't causing any damage and he was too busy dealing with other things to focus on her.
He knew that leaving her be might come to bite him in the back at a later date, so he was keeping a very close eye on her despite making a show of staying away from her.
They eventually reached the gates of the Red Keep. And as they entered the castles, knights and guards gave deep bows to him. Greeting him with a 'Your grace'.
It was strange to be called 'your grace' when people has been calling him 'my lord' for his entire life.
It was as if saving the city suddenly made them remember that he was a member of the Baratheon house as well, 4th in the line of the throne, and a prince in his own right.
Until now, only the main branch of House Baratheon were called 'your grace', with his own father and uncle Renly only be called Lord Stannis or Lord Renly. But now, things have changed.
As he rode through the courtyard, he took a good look around the place. All the blood stains that covered this place had already been cleaned up and now the place looked as pristine as new. As if a battle never happened here in the first place.
The lowered number of knights and Red Cloaks guarding the walls spoke otherwise ofcourse. But he knew that newer knights and Red Cloaks will soon take the place of the deceased ones. And the city will continue to function as it always has.
"Your grace. Should I take your horses?" The stableboy asked as they came to a stop near the stables and he nodded.
"Of course Byran. And here…" He said as he threw a Copper Star at the boy. "Buy a new dress for Betheny. Or maybe buy some flowers and take her out the city. Trust me, she'll appreciate it."
The boy blushed at the advice but nodded. "I will, your grace. Thank you, your grace."
He nodded with a smile as he dismissed most of his guards and walked back to his room in the Meagor's Holdfast, some of the ladies giving him naughty winks or salacious glances as he passed by them. He gave them a polite look but nothing more.
Despite their ongoing rivalry, Cersei hadn't tried any direct method of killing him. And he didn't have any other enemy in the Red Keep who would go after his life so he could let down his guard inside the Holdfast. Somewhat.
The only one who could've been his enemy, was Varys. Mostly because of Varys' intense hatred for anything magical or related to magic.
And with all the miracles he was performing around the city, he knew that Varys would go after him, or his interests sooner or later.
It was for that reason that he had dealt with the spy master as soon as he could after the Battle of Kings Landing.
Yes, he had forever altered the future by killing such an important figure. But the future was already fucked beyond saving if this Greyjoy Rebellion was any indication to go by.
Plus, even if the future wasn't changed, he still wouldn't allow Varys to live. There was a difference between 'Keeping your enemies' close and 'Keeping a knife to your throat' after all.
One of the things that he had been incredibly busy with in the past month aside from acquiring new businesses and properties in the city, was salvaging Varys' spy network.
It was a vast and complicated web of spies and informants. And even now, a month after Varys' death, he was still unearthing new informants every single day.
Not to mention that he was still looking for a capable man/woman to manage and run this spy network on his behalf.
For now, the spy network was being managed by a Brothel manager under his employ by the name of Lynalle of Lys. She had some experience in managing a spy network back in Lys and was pretty decent at doing her job.
Problem was, he didn't want someone who was merely 'decent' at handling a spy network.
Information was one of the most valuable tool in this day and age. So he wanted someone who was actually good at it. No, not just good either, but the best.
Someone who can go toe to toe against people like Varys and Littlefinger and all the other major players in Westeros and come out on top.
For now, he was still searching for a man or woman like that. And he had no doubt that it'll take him months, if not years of searching until he found someone as capable as that. But once he did, it'll all be worth it.
Most importantly though. The largest change brought on by Varys' death was that there would be no one to protect the Targaryens in Essos.
In both the book and the show, Varys often claimed that he had manoeuvred the Targaryens around Essos, making sure that they were always one step ahead of the assassins sent by Robert Baratheon.
He wasn't sure how much truth there was to that claim. But if Varys had indeed done such a thing then Daenerys might be in danger right now.
For that reason, he had already sent a letter to Mel, asking her to contact her allies in Essos, and have them protect the Targaryen siblings.
Because if Daenerys died, then a lot of his plans would go down the drain.
Oh, he had other plans that'll allow him to get the 5 points he needed to buy 'Exit Stage Left' so that he'll not be stranded in this world for the rest of his immortal life (thanks to Shaper).
One of those plans being finding a way to unlock the Warging powers of one or both of the Stark girls, making them a tier 4 character, and then seducing them into loving him.
If that failed, then he still had more backup plans in his pocket. But they would require more time and effort from him. So the survival of Daenerys was indeed very important.
He greeted and briefly talked with all the servants and guards on the way to his room, before he finally entered to his room and fell back on his bed, utterly drained from yet another day of mentally taxing work.
He closed his eyes and thought about his plans for the future.
Plans to deal with Baelish. Either exposing him to the world as a fraud and extracting all the gold from him before executing him. Or killing silently by him giving him a sexual disease or something along those lines.
Plans to deal with Lysa Arryn. Messing with her brain until she became insane, or outright seducing her by entering her bedchamber each night and fucking her brains out until she became utterly dependent on him. Maybe healing her womb and giving her a child that'll eventually rule the Vale?
Plans to deal with Joffrey. Giving him a terminal disease that'll slowly see him waste away over the course of a few years until he died on his bed. A plan he had already put into action.
Plans for his trading empire. About buying the captured Ironborn ships from his father. Buying more raw stuff from the local lords and selling it in Essos, buying the finished product back and then selling back in Westeros. Buying Iron from the eventually bankrupt Iron Islands. Buying the brothels once Baelish has eventually dealt with.
Plans with using the boon that Robert had given him. He still wasn't sure just what exactly he was going to do with that boon. He was leaning toward assassinating Renly and then asking for Stroms End. But that would look too suspicious so he shelved that idea for later. Or maybe he could ask for open access to Kingswood, so that he'll have an unlimited supply of wood.
Plans for- *Knock Knock*
He opened his eyes and looked at the door. He let out a sigh and got up from his bed. Making sure that he looked presentable before he said "Come in."
The door opened and one of his men peeked his head inside his room. "Your grace. The Royal Fleet has been sighted in the horizon. I thought that you should know."
He nodded. "Thanks Jerrard. Tell Ser Brus Buckler to gather men and prepare a welcoming party. And order to servants to prepare a small feast. I will go and welcome my father to Kings Landing myself."
The guard nodded before he closed the door and left.
He went to his balcony and looked into the horizon where a fleet was indeed visible in the distant horizon.
If his father was here, then it meant that he had already dealt with the rest of the Ironborn stragglers. Capturing their ships in the process. Ships that'll be useful for his trading empire.
It was one of the reasons why he wanted to meet his father before anyone else. So that he could get those ships before anyone else could even think to ask for them.
Now the main question was, should he join his father in the Royal Fleet and go to the Iron Islands and see this war to its conclusion.
Or should he go back to Dragonstone and focus on creating his trade empire and uplifting the island.
Decision, decisions.