The Northern Tyrant [Game of Thrones] Chapter 39 - The Advice, The Final Feast & The King’s Mind
Doc - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1b-8sXkiJt0iZIYWq-6t_pUHkFmLI0DyGVjK7iYQ46gU/edit?usp=sharing
________________
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.
####
In the coming days, Wylis trained Robert like a mule. He forced the King to see how fragile he'd become. Unable to run far, unable to lift weights. He also dueled Ser Barristan; the man asked for it. After the loss, Barristan acknowledged that he'd have died at the Trident if he'd faced Wylis.
Other than that, he worked with Jon Arryn on shaping the 'Royal Registry for Invention and Discovery Rights.' And since Robert had also given his approval, nothing was holding them back. From rules and regulations to time limits. One's right to an invention could not exceed ten years, but it could be renewed every ten years by paying for it.
The Crown was more than happy about it, because it meant more money. But still, the price wasn't kept high. Furthermore, the penalties were written down. In a way, the official registry was created in Ramsgate. Robert's seal was already there. Only the Small Council's recognition was left.
Wylis didn't place his patents in them yet, however. He wanted the registry to be official first.
Beyond that was the need to give Lysa some regular attention. At least as long as she was going to be in Ramsgate, he made sure she felt 'welcome'. Countless bedding and impromptu mating rituals later, the final night arrived.
It was the last night before the King was to depart for Winterfell. He had prepared greatly for it, and he fully intended to complete that 'Tyrant's Feast' quest.
For this one night, the entire town was to join. This was no longer a feast at the castle, but a feast at Ramsgate. Moreover, the feast wasn't being held at the castle, but rather at the docks. The place had been scrubbed and cleaned, scents were sprayed, torches and fancy paper lamps were placed all around, and men in armor stood guard holding torches. It was a rather large space, and the King's table was placed in a way that it looked at the sea, as all ships had been moved. The other tables for guests were placed in a U-shape.
Before the King's table, between the U-shape was a large stage where mummers prepared to perform their play. It was written by Wylis himself, and the mummers were townfolks he'd picked for the job. They were trained by Ros, however.
The entire Ramsgate was allowed to feast that night. All taverns and inns were allowed to give two cups of free ale to all guests and as much food as they wanted. Not all could be at the King's feast, after all.
As the night fell, Wylis arrived with the King and other nobles. The bards played gentle music in the background while the stage was being prepared. Not just music, some of the barbecue food was also being prepared right on the spot, on specially designed grills. The cooks were hard at work, filling the place with the aroma of meat.
"What have you planned tonight, Wylis?" Robert asked with a loud laugh, already busy drinking the cocktails Wylis had invented. "This feels unusual."
"Because it is, Robert. Be prepared to be entertained and left without words,” Wylis replied, seated on the King's left while Jon sat on the right. “I have written a mummer’s play for this night.”
“You did? Hah. Then I suppose I’ll drown myself in a few more cups and numb what’s left of my wits.”
"..."
Wylis chuckled and gestured at the mummers to start.
A team of men quickly jogged on stage and placed a large curtain that was painted with scenery. Then they placed bright torches so the entire stage was properly illuminated. Then, finally, an old man gave an introduction to the play.
"A long time ago, in the faraway lands of a kingdom called Denmark…"
After a quick introduction, the play began, showcasing a scene at the top of a castle wall. The background was made on a curtain, but it was the foreground that made it seem so real. Wylis had created cardboard and painted it to appear as battlements.
Two armed men appeared, and a third dressed in noble attire, simply greeting. Then a fourth man appeared, seeming ghostly pale, like a dead man…
Thanks, Shakespeare.
Wylis relaxed back, having seen the play in far better quality too many times in his old life. The high society was obsessed with plays, and he'd been dragged to many of them by his many celebrity female partners. He remembered the play well.
The story of Hamlet followed as expected. The exciting part was the stage design and the scene design he had worked on. Moreover, the story was alright, and the mummers did well. The man playing Prince Hamlet did very well, acting the madman part. Similarly, the woman playing Ophelia was gorgeous and acted mad just fine, and her singing voice was heartbreaking.
Finally, the duel scene took place, and it was a feast to watch. The man who played Hamlet was one of the boys from his garrison, so he knew how to swing a blade. The same was the case for Laertes. Both of them were from his garrison, and he had choreographed the fight scene personally.
How well they trained with it was a different matter, as he wasn't always there to watch over them.
Clank!
"Haaaagh! Damn you!"
"You killed my sister!"
Wylis was somewhat speechless by their acting. Their swords were blunt, but they acted well, raging at each other, growling like true men aiming to kill. And the part where the two men were to exchange swords without realizing was played well, yet with enough drama that those watching noticed it.
What followed was as expected.
The queen had drunk the poisoned wine by then and fell. Laertes also fell from his own poisoned sword, and, in a loud, dying voice, confessed everything, revealing all of Claudius' plans.
What followed was a dramatic murder scene of Claudius, followed by Prince Hamlet himself falling, declaring in his final moments who should be the next king.
It was silent for a while when the play ended, and the bards slowly finished performing their music that had accompanied the entire play over the many scenes of changing moods. Soon, when silence finally fell, Robert rose.
"Seven hells!" Robert kept clapping like a drunken fool, and the rest joined in. "That prince is a bloody idiot, but a good lad. Poor girl, Ophelia. Wylis, who the fuck was that ghost? It was some scheme too, wasn’t it?"
"..."
I guess the King is well entertained.
Wylis shrugged, clapping. "I don't know."
“How the fuck do you not know? You wrote the damn thing.”
"It was written so for a reason. It was meant to leave the spectators wondering, talking among themselves about what might be. Ophilia’s demise, too, is left ambiguous."
"She killed herself. What else?"
"Are you sure about that?" Wylis smirked at the King.
Robert's mouth shut up instantly, his brows creased. Then the King sat down, deep in thought.
Being a king, such stories must hit closer to home, Wylis reckoned. He could imagine Robert going through many names in his head to find real names associated with the play's characters.
“That was bloody beautiful,” Robert grunted, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Half of it’s left hanging, and I like that. Take the bit where Gertrude drinks the poisoned wine, even after Claudius tells her not to. Sounds to me like she knew damn well it was poisoned.”
"Could be. Could be not. Who can say?" Wylis said, and saw the King get annoyed. "Even so, I never thought they would carry it off so well."
To that, Wylis quickly announced rewards, cheering up the nervous men and women who acted in the play. He awarded each five gold dragons, a disgusting amount of money for a resident of Ramsgate.
"Twenty gold to each of them!" Robert bellowed, waving off Wylis. “I always thought these mummer’s plays were dull as shit, but you lot caught me off guard. Come on then, stop gawking and get to the feast.”
Wylis only had to clap a few times, and quickly the entire stage was disassembled, creating an empty floor area. The servants appeared next, setting up the feast in an organised manner. Plates, jars of drinks.
That night, Wylis offered a few new dishes. One of them was a doner kebab, as close to the real thing as he could make. Then there were ramen noodles, which he made with flour. Since there were spices available, he tried to make an Indian curry dish he remembered. Too bad, there were no tomatoes; he could have tried other things.
Still, the feast was less about feeding the King and more about leaving him amazed at the cuisine. There were also milkshakes and, for the first time, ice cream. It was made with the ice that his ships had brought. He'd sent them on a test run to eventually start his ice trading.
"What in the god’s name is this?!" Robert was most amazed by the ice cream.
The man had eaten snow before, but this was different. Made from milk, and multiple flavors such as orange and cinnamon. It was also topped with almonds and other nuts as needed, there and then.
It was an experience as Wylis prepared scoops in small silver bowls for each of the royal and noble guests. He'd tasted this before with the women, tasted it in secret underground with Lyanna, Rhaella, Elia, and the kids. Even Viserys' face was worth seeing. The boy's tough shell couldn’t hide the childish delights.
"Ummmmh… So… lovely." Lysa was a special case as she ate and let a few drops fall on her overflowing breasts. She was quick to pick it with her finger and lick it while staring at him.
This woman. Your man is right beside you!
Wylis didn't even give her a moment. "What do you think, Lord Arryn?"
"Delightful. Makes me not want to leave the North. Such icy cuisine is impossible in King's Landing."
Wylis smirked, but said nothing. It was best that the man craved it a bit more.
As they ate their ice cream, the bards resumed playing music, and soon men and women started dancing in the empty space.
“Try this,” Wylis said, holding back a smile. “It’s only lemon zest for now, but it should catch you off guard all the same.”
Pop!
Wylis removed the cork of the chilled glass bottle with a very loud pop and poured the drink into Robert's clean, empty cup. Instantly, the sound of bubbles popping was audible, and the foam at the top.
"It will not make a drunk of you, though you should feel all the better for it."
He watched Robert grab the cup and take a big sip.
"..."
As expected, Robert gulped and recoiled back, staring between Wylis and the cup at times. Then the man took another sip, and then another.
“Felt as if… my throat was on fire, but gods it soothed me. Pops on the tongue. What fucking sorcery is this?”
Wylis chuckled and glanced at the others. Their faces told the tale. Lysa had nearly choked on her swallow. “I made it with an apparatus of my own devising. I call it soda. In time, I’ll add more zest to it and sell it across the realm.”
"..."
For a moment, the table was silent.
"It now makes sense why you sought that registry," Jon Arryn said.
"You made all this? How do you find the time, Wylis? Gods, the vices you’ve shown me. And you expect me not to get fat?" Robert barked, eyeing the bottle of soda. "Gods be damned, you’re a boon to the realm."
Wylis just chuckled, still not done. But this time his surprise wasn't food. Though he felt sad at the moment as he couldn't be with the women.
At least they will be watching this.
"Your Grace…"
Suddenly, the woman who acted as Ophelia approached the table meekly and asked Robert for a dance. No chance Robert was going to refuse that.
Thankfully, Lysa wasn't insane enough to ignore her husband and seek him. She danced with Jon, while Wylis danced with Anna, Ashara, Genna, Wenda, and Ros. Only after that did he hold Lysa; even then, he had to ensure she didn't get to smush her bosom on him. She tried that many times.
As the night entered its final hour, and the dancing feet began getting wobbly from exhaustion or wine, Wylis waved at his man to give them the final spectacles.
"Your Grace, look there." Wylis stopped his friend from groping a woman who, with eager intentions, tried to be groped by the King. He couldn't stop that; it was her choice. "Hope you remember this feast, because the next time you'll be here, Ramsgate will be far, far different. And so I give you my belated congratulations on becoming King.”
Shwoooooo!
From the docks, a flare went into the sky, bright and red, loud. But it was just the signal, as in a few moments, in the sea not far away, dozens of bigger, brighter, multi-colored lights shot towards the sky.
It was loud, popping multiple times. The bards slowly stopped playing and let the fireworks be the only noise.
The long columns of flares bloomed in the sky, like a flower, spreading out in flickering lights. It wasn't hard to make for Wylis with all his engineering masteries. Extremely crude fireworks already existed in the world, but they were just not built this well.
That said, even the fireworks he made weren't that powerful, not as good as those from his world. He kept them weak so nobody would be able to derive anything from them. The last thing he wanted was someone figuring out explosives.
I hope Lyanna is watching this.
####
She was, and so were Rhaella and Elia.
Wylis had made a secret passage for the women and children to reach the terrace of the castle. And as the feast happened outside, they moved.
Boom!
Far in the distance, they watched the sky be filled with colors and sounds. It was beautiful.
"Waaaaaah! It's so pretty!" Rhaenys chirped, jumping excitedly. "Pick me up! Pick me up!"
Lyanna chuckled and held the little girl up. Meanwhile, Rhaella was holding Daenerys and Alric. Elia held Alden and Aegon. Viserys was also there, but he was tied with a chain to Chett, who was guarding them.
The three women silently watched the fireworks. All lost in their own thoughts.
“This must vex Wylis even more,” Lyanna muttered. “Not being able to watch it with us.”
"I can imagine that," Rhaella added.
Elia was the most silent, however. Viserys was the same, annoyed at being chained but still watching the fireworks with a half-open maw.
"How did he make this?" Lyanna pondered.
Rhaella smiled, as if she thought of something. "The miracles he brings to us. He's a never-ending surprise."
"I love ice cream." Rhaenys chirped in the middle.
"Me! Me too!" Little Aegon repeated.
They all loved ice cream. Who didn't?
Moments later, they headed back down to their secret residence. They had been feasting there as well since Chett had brought them all that Wylis had prepared for the King.
But what they were actually waiting for was Wylis to visit them that night.
"I can walk on my own!" Viserys seethed.
Chett didn't care; he held the chain tied to Viserys' waist tightly. "As you should."
"I'm not so insane to run now and put Mother and Daenerys' lives in danger."
"I know," Chett replied.
####
Ting!
[Side Quest Completed - A Tyrant's FeastDescription - A Tyrant holds nothing back when it comes to hosting friends and feasts.Goal - King Robert must leave Ramsgate with the memory of the feast etched in his mind. Remembered as the greatest feast of his life.Reward - New Title & King Robert's Favor]
Ting!
[New Tyrant's Title - The FeastmasterDescription - At a Tyrant's feast, none go hungry, nor bored. You have exceeded the King's expectations well. Effect - 50% Reduction in mental fortitude of guests at Tyrant's feasts.]
Mental fortitude?
Wylis was happy that the quest was over, but the reward was hard to make sense of immediately. Did it mean that he could convince people better at his feasts? Or did it mean that people would easily get drunk at the feast?
“What a great night, Wylis. Songs, food, wine, and then this. Gods know what this even was. A damn fine feast,” Robert slurred, wiping his mouth. “Ned better have something waiting for me, because you’ve bloody spoiled me.”
“Go easy on him, Robert. Ned’s not cut from the same cloth as I am. Tourneys never put coin in his purse, not the way they did mine.”
Robert rubbed his beard and nodded. "Aye, you’re right. Now the king’s got to piss and fall into bed, Gods be damned."
Wylis nodded, and it marked the end of the feast. Escorted by the guards, he led everyone back into the castle. Robert was taken to his bedchamber right away, while Wylis sat with Jon Arryn in his solar and discussed a few more matters.
Clearly, Jon was troubled by his own age the most. The matter of an heir was already dealt with; now what mattered was the Crown. Jon saw Robert's shortcomings and feared that after his death, vultures would surround the Iron Throne and chip it away piece by piece.
“The realm is starting to rot, Wylis. The Lannisters are closing in. The Queen means to place Lannister men inside the City Watch.”
Why tell me all that?
Wylis just nodded, sipping some wine since he wasn't that drunk yet.
“I fear what comes after my death. With no one to guide him, Robert will give himself over to excess, and the realm will be ruled by those who seek their own profit above the good of the Seven Kingdoms. The debt is already piling higher.”
Wylis kept nodding, humming in agreement. There was nothing he could do about this. His role ended with helping Robert take the throne. The rest was up to Robert himself. Still, he had a few suggestions that could help.
"I take it you can’t turn down the Lannisters, not when their gold keeps the doors standing. The City Watch is already sick, but it is not beyond saving. Shuffle them. Every three days, change the teams and the streets they walk. If no man keeps the same post for years on end, corruption will find less ground to take root."
Jon Arryn surprisingly wrote it down on a piece of paper. “That is it, Wylis. That sharp wit of yours, I have always seen it. Son, I only hope you will answer the Crown’s summons when the time comes for a new Hand.”
What bullshit is this now?
Wylis had absolutely no interest in being the Hand of the King or living in King's Landing. If anything, the Tyrant's Squire won't allow him, as being the Hand was akin to being a direct subordinate to someone. That wasn't how a Tyrant was supposed to be.
“You have many years yet, Lord Arryn. Why speak as if the Stranger waits at your door?”
“King’s Landing is a nest of vipers. If old age and weariness don’t claim me, then poison surely will. I have plenty of enemies. My years weigh heavily on my mind. I’m slower now, less watchful than I once was, and my hearing fails me more with each passing day. This is the world the Seven have made, as it was meant to be. Old age is an enemy no man can defeat.”
Unless you earned it through siring babes.
"It's either Ned or you. That's all Robert has."
That much was true, sadly.
Creak!
Jon got up from the chair after that, finishing his cup of wine.
“On the morrow, I return to King’s Landing, and Robert goes north to Winterfell. The registry will be made; it can’t be otherwise, not after witnessing your ingenuity. My time in Ramsgate has opened my eyes to certain things I hadn’t foreseen. I thank you for the welcome you have given.”
Wylis rose as well and shook hands with Jon, leading him out. He was somewhat impressed by the level of humility Jon showed. To be able to act as if nothing was wrong with his life.
"It was an honor to have you here, Lord Arryn."
Wylis led the old man to his room and then walked around the entire castle to ensure it was safe. He checked on the King as well, and then the guards outside. Finally, late at night, he entered the secret rooms.
After the incident with Ros, he made all the women sleep there. Even Anna would sleep there so she could be with her two sons. That also worked for Wylis because he'd have time to entertain Lysa.
He didn't do it that night, however. He entered the underground compound and reached Lyanna's bedchamber right away. He removed his tunic and trousers and joined her in bed. She was awake, stirred, and attacked him with a wave of kisses.
Moments later, it was a song of moans and heat.
He didn't go to other rooms that night and only stayed with Lyanna. Holding her in his arms tightly, like she was a precious treasure. She was indeed hidden away from the royal thief upstairs.
"Can't wait to return to normal life."
He nodded at her whisper. “Aye, the same for me. Still, I have a small surprise for you all tomorrow night. The King may depart, but I won’t end it without one final feast among you all.”
"Now I'm excited."
####
The next morning, the castle and the town were a scene full of activity as the King's entourage prepared to head further North. They had arrived on ships, but now they were to use the road. Wylis had gifted one of his stagecoaches to Robert for a comfortable journey ahead.
Finally, Jon had left for King's Landing on the same ships.
Wylis stood before the stagecoach as Robert prepared to climb into it. They shared a brotherly hug, whispering words to each other as if they were the realm's secrets.
“It was wise of me to come, Wylis. I needed it to knock the dust out of my skull, wake me up from… eh! Doesn’t matter now. I’ve made up my mind now. The feast, the talk we had. Damn good use of the road. I owe you for this, old friend. If you ever need the crown standing behind you, don’t hesitate to loose a raven.”
Wylis nodded. "You as well, Robert. Remember the promise. Don't fatten up, I’ll be testing you."
"Bah, you wait. I’ll carve this bloody frame of mine better than yours. Be well now, Wylis."
"You too, Your Grace."
At last, Robert climbed into the stagecoach.
Lysa joined in next. Wylis shared just a simple greeting with her, having given her the rough fucking of a lifetime early that morning already.
Moments later, he waved at the moving entourage, the knights and soldiers all marching in close formation on their horses.
Yet Wylis kept waving, even after the entourage was out of sight. His eyes were frozen on empty space, or rather, an invisible blue screen. In his mind echoed the words he’d missed before. The little hints and meanings behind Robert’s hesitations.
He was blind to it, believing Robert to be the man he knew from his memory, never realising this man was different. He made him different. And all of a sudden. It made sense.
Ting!
[Hidden Quest Completed - The King RevivedDescription - Broken, pride lost, confused, and melancholy. Considering himself unfit for the throne, King Robert Baratheon sought his life's one final journey to meet those he cherished.Goal - Stop King Robert from ending his life through excess.Reward - King's Unbreakable Friendship]
What?! W-What? Why would… No, Robert's not that sort of man.
Pat!
"Wylis?"
Wylis jolted, almost jumped at Ros' hand on his shoulder. His blue eyes flickered, a gulp next, and he looked at Chett.
"Bring me Caliburn! Quick!"
_______________
A/N: Next chapter is already under work. I'm half done. It'll come out tomorrow. This one didn't have smut; the next one will.
Also, I'll pick up the pace just a bit for a few scenes to get some kingdom-building elements going.