Note: I just wanted to say that I love my new job. LOVE it. Of course, since it's a full-time job, it is a little time-consuming. As such, I will have less time for writing. So, it might not be possible to keep updating on a weekly basis. At least for a while. Still, I will aim to post new chapters as often as I can. I'm not retiring from fanfiction any time soon.
Also, I want you to be aware; I'm not too thrilled with this chapter. Personally, I find it a little dull. Maybe that's because I had to cut out some of the more amusing or descriptive parts. Those edited parts will be included in a future chapter, though. In any case, I promise future updates will be more exciting than this one.
By the way, some of you are probably yearning to see more of Gregor. For those of you who are, you needn't wait much longer; the next chapter will feature him.
Although Westeros was in the midst of autumn, every place south of the Neck was still exhibiting fairly warm weather. That included King's Landing. Right now, the Sun was bathing the whole western side of the Red Keep. Some of its rays managed to pass through the windows of the throne room, giving the occupants a fair idea of what the climate outside must have been like.
It is too pleasant a day to spend indoors. But work must come first.
Robert Baratheon had learned the truth of that statement when he first ascended to the Iron Throne. In his youth, he had been one to enjoy the pleasures of life and disregard the responsibilities of it. He became the Lord of Storm's End at the young age of six and ten, when his parents died at Shipbreaker Bay, within sight of the Baratheon stronghold. Even then, he had not shown much interest in ruling.
Then the Rebellion happened. The realm was never the same after that. Neither was I. By the time Lord Robert Baratheon became King Robert Baratheon, he had learned the importance of duty, prioritization, and restraint. Personally, Robert still did not care much for ruling, but the Seven Kingdoms needed a king, and the people had chosen him. Like as not, he would wear the crown for the rest of his life.
At this time, Robert was seated in the Iron Throne, leaning on his arm. Cersei sat to his left in a smaller throne made of wood and lesser metals. Lord Jon Arryn stood at his right hand, just as he had for the last sixteen years. Four of the Kingsguard were present, as well. Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Mandon Moore were positioned near the base of the throne. Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Arys Oakheart were at the far end of the room. Ser Boros Blount, Ser Preston Greenfield, and Ser Theo Frey were guarding Robert's children elsewhere.
It was nearly midday. Robert had spent most of the morning receiving petitioners. Many of them had gone away satisfied. A few had gone away displeased. Some had still not gotten their troubles resolved. A great number of petitioners were still waiting to see the King. Alas, Robert did not have time to see them all. One more, and then I'll end this session of court.
"Send in the next one," the King commanded, as his latest petitioner, a pair of squabbling knights, left the throne room. One exited a little richer than when he entered; the other a little poorer. Once they were gone, another man came in.
The last petitioner of the morning was a middle-aged man clad in the robes of a septon. Robert noted he bore a bit of a resemblance to Ser Theo. Could they be related?
He got his answer a moment later, when the herald called out "Septon Luceon to see the King."
It was then that Robert remembered. Although most of Walder Frey's sons had children of their own, his fifth son had never even been married. Luceon Frey had opted to devote his life to the Seven instead. He no longer carried his family name, and he had severed all ties to his family, but he had retained that look which was characteristic to the Freys. The look of duplicity. Although Freys were generally more honest and trustworthy than they had been before Greyjoy's Rebellion, it would likely be a while before that look went away.
As Luceon gradually approached, Robert gazed down at him and asked "How might the crown service the Faith, good Septon?"
"I come on behalf of his Holiness, the High Septon, Your Grace," Luceon declared, dipping his head respectfully, "He wishes to appeal for your authority to revive an old faction of the Seven."
"'An old faction?'" Robert repeated inquisitively.
"Two, actually," Septon Luceon disclosed, "The Poor Fellows and the Warrior's Sons."
That revelation produced murmurings from the people gathered in the court. Most of them sounded alarmed, stunned, or appalled. Robert fully understood their unease. He was inclined to share it. The Faith Militant had not been around in two and a-half centuries. They were disbanded for a very good reason.
Robert sat up in his throne and queried "What reason do you have for submitting this plea?"
"Only the best interests of the Seven Kingdoms," Luceon pronounced, "For years, the whole of Westeros has been preparing for the Long Night. Recently, many of its inhabitants have turned to us and our gods for salvation. We have said a prayer for them all. Alas, our prayers to the Seven can only accomplish so much. Only a fool would believe they would be sufficient to stop the undead. As such, we of the Faith are obligated to take up arms alongside the rest of the realm."
Noble objective, but questionable means of accomplishing it. "You do not have to rely on the Faith Militant to achieve that goal. I would be willing to provide you with weapons and armor from the royal armory, and you have my leave to train with the soldiers of the royal army."
"While we are very much appreciative of the gesture, Your Grace, we cannot accept," Luceon stated, "I swore my life to the Seven, as did my brothers and sisters of the cloth. To use the weapons, armor, and training of the crown would be a violation of our scared vows."
"Even if your purpose was to save the realm?" Lord Jon Arryn presumed. And, by extension, every believer in the Seven?
Septon Luceon nodded his head and proclaimed "I am afraid no exceptions are permitted, Lord Hand. The Seven forbid us from following the king's generals into battle. We can only fight alongside them. That is why we seek to revive the Faith Militant. Everything which pertains to combat, including discipline and leadership, must come from within our own ranks."
Robert had never been much of a religious man. Neither had his brothers, for that matter. Stannis had all but renounced his own faith when the vessel carrying Father and Mother sank in Shipbreaker Bay, and Renly's personal interests were somewhat frowned upon by the Faith.
All the same, the king could not deny that the septon presented a compelling argument. People always fight better when under the direction of those they know personally as well as professionally. That is why if a threat to the realm ever came about, I'd place my trust in the Stormlords before anyone else, including the Crownlords.
Nevertheless, he reminded himself why the Faith Militant had been disbanded. In the end, they were almost as great a danger to the people of the Seven Kingdoms as the Mad King had been. Then again, it was the Targaryen's incestuous practices that had incited their uprising. Robert would never engage in such a shameful activity, so the Faith would never turn on him for that reason.
Still, it was not without cause that religion and politics were kept separate. The one was not armed; the other was. Arm them both, and trouble could arise. Especially if they ever came into conflict with each other. Although the Seven and the Iron Throne currently had no quarrel with one another, anything was possible in these changing times. Should any such feud arise, my subjects would have to decide whether piety or fealty is more important to them.
Robert decided he would rather not risk forcing that decision upon the people of the Seven Kingdoms. He was about to announce his refusal of the septon's plea. Then Cersei leaned over and whispered to him "Before you speak, I beseech you to consider the advantages of this arrangement, my love. If we accept Septon Luceon's petition, we would be in the Faith's good graces. They will not forget that so easily. So long as we continue to pay homage to the Great Sept, we could also look to the Faith Militant to reinforce order in this city."
Oftentimes, Cersei's counsel was as valuable as Lord Jon's. That was why he usually had her attend court with him. Her analytical mind was a tremendous asset to him in many complex situations, such as this one. In this instance, she had succeeded in convincing him to rethink his decision. We cannot rely too heavily on the gold cloaks to keep the peace. That aside, people are more apt to give religious men their cooperation.
Ultimately, Robert gazed at the priest before him and announced "I will consider your plea, good septon. Before I elect to grant it, I would have an audience with the Most Devout."
"I understand entirely, Your Grace," Septon Luceon remarked, "His Holiness anticipated as much."
Then at least he knows not to expect too much of the crown.
"Tell the High Septon he can expect a summons sometime in the next fortnight," Robert told the priest, "Until then, he would do best to make himself available at all hours of the day."
"As you command, Your Grace," Luceon avowed. He bowed again and swiftly departed from the throne room.
Once the septon was gone, Robert rose from his throne and declared "Court is now adjourned until this afternoon. Whichever petitioner is next in the queue will be seen first then."
He heard a few grumbles in the back of the assembly, but no one was impertinent or imprudent enough to protest the King's announcement. Many of the gathered lords and ladies had other matters to attend to, anyway. Apart from that, it would be time for luncheon soon.
Before the midday meal, however, Robert wanted to get in some exercise.
As the gathered nobles exited the throne room through the main entrance, Robert, Cersei, Lord Jon, and the Kingsguard left through the private side doors. Once they were away from the masses, Robert said to his queen "Cersei, where are your cousins? I have need of them."
"Probably off galivanting with their peers, Your Grace," the Queen replied. I was not aware those two had any peers apart from each other. "If not, they are likely in the training yard."
"What reason would they have to be there?" Jon Arryn muttered in perplexity.
"The same reason as any man," Cersei contended, "They want to improve their combat prowess."
"Hopefully, they are there," said Robert. Not because I expect them to become better swordsmen. For them, that endeavor is practically a lost cause. "I plan to stop by the yard myself, and if they're there, it would save me the trouble of seeking them out."
"Then shall we head there, Your Grace?" Jon Arryn supposed.
"Well, your presence is not required there, Lord Jon," Robert stated, "Neither is yours, Cersei. Of course, you are both welcome to accompany me, should you wish to."
As it happened, they both wished to. Lately, specifically since the conference at Harrenhal, Jon and Cersei had been spending more time with Robert than they had before. They could either have been out of concern or out of genuine affection. Robert did not think to ask. Their presence was always welcome.
The King, the Queen, the Hand, and the four Kingsguard quickly made their way through Maegor's Holdfast. Soon enough, they reached the training yard. They found it rather crowded when they got there.
Lord Willas Tyrell was sparring with Ser Oswell Whent, the sworn shield of his intended, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Princess Rhaenys herself was observing the duel from the sidelines with her guardian, Lady Ashara Dayne. It was hard to say who the victor would be. Both men were adept with a blade. Whoever wins will be the one who truly is the most qualified to protect Rhaenys.
Nearby, Willas' cousins, Ser Horas Redwyne and his twin brother Ser Hobber, were sparring with Rickard Clegane. The Redwyne twins had been hostages of the crown longer than the heir to Moat Cailin had been alive. Even so, he proved to be more than a match against the two men of the Arbor. He must have a superb master-at-arms.
As Cersei suspected, her cousins Lancel and Tyrek were present, as well. The two of them were up against Crown Prince Jasper Baratheon. One single glance, and Robert could tell his son would be the winner of this duel. That bout was over before it began.
The Stark girls were drilling, as well. Arya was armed with that small, thin sword she always carried it around. Needle, she had named it. She was practicing on a wooden dummy. Sansa was at Arya's side. She seemed to be studying her sister's movements and form. Sansa was still very new to swordplay, but she was willing to learn. Ned feared they would be at each other's throats for their entire stay. I imagine he will be thrilled when I inform him that they have begun to get along.
The direwolves were there, too. They were not ten feet from their mistresses. Even they were fighting, albeit their style was more playful than tactical. They were simply tackling each other and tugging at each other's fur. Both Lady and Nymeria were careful not to inflict any harmful damage onto her sister.
There were several other duels going on. Three of them involved Rafford, Eggon, and Shitmouth. They were up against Ethan Glover, Theo Wull, and Ser Mark Ryswell. While those bouts and a few others were somewhat exciting, the three in the center of the yard were the ones that Robert paid especial attention to.
Willas ultimately beat Ser Oswell, but just barely. Rickard fared even better; he soon defeated Hobber first and Horas not long after. As for Jasper… by the time the Crown Prince was done with his second cousins, they could not stop shouting "Yield!"
Robert smirked. It was difficult to fathom that those two were Tywin Lannister's nephews. They are lucky they are only his nephews. They would never have lasted this long if they were his own sons.
Still, Robert pitied Ser Kevan; it must have shamed him to have a spineless craven as his eldest son. In that regard, Ser Tygett was perhaps the more fortunate of the two. He may have been long dead, but he had not lived to see what a poor specimen of a son he had sired.
Once those three duels ended, Robert Baratheon stepped into the training yard. Every person promptly stopped what he or she was doing and turned to him. Robert would have beckoned them not to stop sparring on his account, but that would not have made any difference. Bowing in the presence of the king was something most of them, if not all, did involuntarily.
Robert gradually approached the center of the yard. He stopped in front of Willas Tyrell, Rickard Clegane, and Jasper Baratheon. As the three young men tilted their heads to him, he told them approvingly "I'd be the first to congratulate you three on your victories."
"You have my thanks, Your Grace," Rickard declared.
"Mine, as well," Willas commented.
"Child's play, Father," Jasper insisted. In your case, I agree. Lancel and Tyrek were several years Jasper's elder, but they may as well have been Tommen's age.
As the Lannister cousins struggled back to their feet, Robert sharply stated "You two, get off your lazy arses and fetch my arms and armor. I mean to join the dueling ring."
Cersei's cousins hastened to carry out his demands. As they went to retrieve his equipment from the arsenal, Willas Tyrell inquired "Anyone in particular you wish to fight, Your Grace?"
"Oh, yes," Robert answered the Reachman. He did not say anything more. He simply gazed back and forth between Willas, Rickard, and Jasper.
The three younger men quickly caught on, and they seemed surprised.
"You lot are in peak condition today," Robert debated, "Besides, I am curious to see more of what they teach you in the North."
"We'd be honored to indulge you, Your Grace," Rickard claimed. Willas nodded in agreement, and Jasper grinned wickedly. He looked as though he was plotting something. Of course, he'd jump at the chance to attack his father. Then again, who wouldn't?
Lancel and Tyrek returned a couple minutes later. Not as quickly as I would have liked, but at least they actually came back this time. As inept as those two were as swordsmen, they functioned much more adequately as squires.
They proceeded to put Robert's honor on over his doublet and trousers. His squires dressed him in his breastplate, his greaves, his gauntlets, and his helm. This was the very same set of armor he wore during both his rebellion and Greyjoy's. Although he had put on a little weight since seizing the throne, it still fit him quite well.
Once Robert was fully armored, Lancel gave him his warhammer. Like his armor, this weapon was kept in pristine condition. It had taken the lives of many, including Rhaegar Targaryen himself. Robert had hardly ever fought with anything else since then. To ensure that he never lost his style, he made certain to pick it up and train with it at least once every month. This would be twice in the last turn of the moon.
Robert gripped his hammer tightly in both his hands, and he turned to face his three young opponents. All of them had already assumed a different offensive or defensive stance. By their form and posture, each one of them clearly knew how to handle his sword. Robert was greatly looking forward to see how they actually fought with those blades. Swords may be the weapon of choice for most. But in the right hands, a hammer gets the job done just as well.
"Alright, lads," Robert pronounced, raising his hammer into the air and keeping his eyes on his youthful adversaries, "You may attack when ready."
The three did not move at first. Willas was in the middle of the three. He gestured for Jasper to fan out to the right and Rickard to fan out to the left. They did so slowly and cautiously.
They intend to surround me. Clever.
When Rickard and Jasper were on the very edges of Robert's field of vision, Willas made his move. He rushed forward with his sword raise and delivered a blow from above. Robert quickly blocked it with the body of his warhammer. As he parried, he raised his foot and dealt a solid kick to Willas' midsection. Willas stumbled backward, but he did not fall.
As Willas recovered, Jasper and Rickard advanced simultaneously. Timing their approaches carefully, Robert countered Jasper's attack first and Rickard's a split-second later. That was when Willas reentered the fray. Robert dodged his next blow just in time.
Over the next several minutes, Robert was locked in combat with the heirs to Highgarden, Moat Cailin, and the Iron Throne. They had the attention of every other person in the vicinity. No one else there dared to avert their eyes from the king and his rivals.
Jasper was the first to fall. His father lured him into a false sense of security. When Jasper thought he finally gained the upper hand, his father swung his hammer below his legs. Jasper tripped and fell flat on his face.
As the Crown Prince retreated, Willas and Rickard doubled their efforts. Loath as Robert was to admit it, both of them were better swordsmen than his son. Still, he was not about to be bested by green boys.
Again, Willas and Rickard tried to overwhelm the King by attacking him through opposite sides. That technique might have worked, had they coordinated their advances more effectively. The king parried their blows on both ends and pushed back Rickard. While the Clegane boy rebounded, Robert moved in on Willas. He waved his hammer at him four times. The Reachman countered the first three blows, but the fourth one got him full in the abdomen and knocked the wind out of him.
Now it was down to just Robert and Rickard. Despite being the youngest of the three, Rickard seemed to be the deftest swordsman. Other than the king, he was also the tallest person in the training yard. Both of those characteristics were clear indications of his Clegane and Mormont heritage.
Be that as it may, even the eldest son of Gregor Clegane was no match for the man who had gained the Iron Throne through right of conquest. After three solid minutes of exchanging blows, Robert finally brought the duel to an end.
He kept attacking with the head of his hammer. When Rickard's attention was focused solely on where the head went, Robert launched a blow with the butt of the hammer's handle. With it, he struck Rickard full on the side of his face.
In response, Rickard groaned and held his head with his free hand. Somehow, he managed to avoid dropping his sword. He did not appear to be bleeding, but there had to be a bruise where the butt of the hammer's handle hit him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Robert spotted Arya Stark trying to rush into the dueling ring. Sansa Stark held her sister back and whispered something in her ear to pacify her.
Arya was not the only one there who was worried for Rickard's well-being. Lord Willas, Princess Rhaenys, Lady Ashara, and everyone else who had sailed to King's Landing with Rickard seemed equally perturbed. Lord Jon Arryn looked borderline mortified. Even Cersei appeared slightly astonished.
Jasper went to his best friend's side and placed a hand on his shoulder. He beckoned him "Let me see it."
As Rickard moved his hand away, Robert saw a large purple spot on the side of his face. He had left a mark. It would only be a temporary mark, but had Robert used the head instead of the butt, it could have been far worse. I could have given him his first battle scar. Worse yet, I could have made an enemy of the Mountain That Rides.
Robert tentatively walked over to the two boys. He asked the taller of them "Are you alright, Rickard?"
"I… I believe so, Your Grace," the heir to Moat Cailin quietly responded. He sounds like he is in a lot of pain. Indeed, the wound looked quite painful, too. Concerned, Robert stepped a little closer. That was when Rickard's frown abruptly changed to a smirk and he told Jasper "Now!"
The two of them speedily bent over, and they each grabbed the king by one of his legs. They pulled his feet out from under him and flipped him backwards. Before Robert knew what was happening, he released his hammer and landed on his arse.
As the king lay on the ground, Jasper and Rickard burst into laughter. So did almost every other person in the training yard. Before too long, Robert joined them. Although they were chuckling at his expense, every man needed to laugh at himself every now and then. That aside, it was a somewhat amusing stunt. These boys are more cunning than I gave them credit for.
When everyone stopped guffawing, Jasper and Rickard moved to Robert's sides, reached down, and took ahold of his arms. As they pulled him back to his feet, Jasper cockily muttered "We yield to you, Father."
Robert scoffed at that and cheekily remarked "I accept your surrender."
When Robert was standing up again, Willas picked up his hammer and returned it to him. Once it was back in his hands, Robert told them "Very good match, lads. You do your family names proud."
"Naturally," said Jasper with a smile.
"My brother Garlan is the true swordsman of my house, Your Grace," Willas proclaimed, "He would have given you a better fight than I."
"Oh, you did fine enough," Robert pronounced.
"Did I?" Rickard said inquisitively.
"Absolutely," Robert declared, "You are indeed your father's son."
That was meant as a compliment, as Gregor Clegane was the only man to ever best Robert Baratheon in combat. Twice.
By now, everyone else in the training yard had gone back to doing what they were doing before the king entered the yard. All of a sudden, my presence has become less interesting to them. Not that he had any issue with that. There were times when even he grew tired of being the center of attention.
King Robert removed his helm, wiped his brow, and murmured "Well, I think that is enough of a workout for now."
"Then we're of like minds, Your Grace," Rickard conceded, "The rest of us have already been at this for over an hour."
"In fact, just before you got here, we were talking about taking a break," Willas disclosed.
"Anyway, it's nearly time for lunch, I believe," Jasper thought aloud.
Or luncheon, depending on how elegant you're feeling.
"So, it is," Robert remarked, "However, I was hoping to have words with the three of you sometime today. Along with Princess Rhaenys and Lady Ashara. Since all five of you are currently accounted for, I propose that we do so now."
"Is this a request or an order, Father?" Jasper inquired.
"Which would you prefer?" Robert uttered sardonically.
Willas interceded and declared "We'll converse with you now, Your Grace."
Jasper and Rickard made no objections. They are wise as well as cunning. They know I do not like to be kept waiting overlong.
They did not leave the training yard straightaway. They all had some small business to see to first. Willas went to get his betrothed and her guardian. Rickard went over to the Starks sisters. Only the Crown Prince stayed with King Robert.
Robert summoned Lancel and Tyrek back over to him. He gave his hammer to Jasper so that the two squires could attend to him. They speedily stripped the king of his armor. Soon enough, he was down to his doublet and trousers again.
At the same time, Jasper looked over his father's hammer. He seemed quaintly curious. He stated "Father, your warhammer looks… different, somehow. Is this a new one?"
"No, it's the same hammer as always," Robert informed his son, "It's just been altered. You see the spikes?"
At that, Jasper took another look at the head of the hammer. He saw that there was one spike on each side of it, excluding the one attached to the handle. Those had not been there the last time he held the hammer.
"You know that Valyrian steel dagger Lord Gregor Clegane gifted to me shortly after Greyjoy's Rebellion?" Robert asked rhetorically.
Jasper nodded, and his father illuminated "Well, I got the idea to melt the dagger down and forge it into spikes for my warhammer. Tobho Mott proved capable of the task. You see, they are sharp and large enough to pierce through the skin of any living thing. Or any dead thing."
"So, whenever the Others come, this hammer will have the same effect on them as obsidian and fire," Jasper proposed.
"Precisely," Robert affirmed. Even the undead will have reason to fear my hammer now.
"This is actually a brilliant idea, Father," Jasper remarked, as though he might have thought otherwise, "Incidentally, if the Watch's reports are accurate, the wights do not even have skin."
All the better.
Right then, Lancel and Tyrek finished removing King Robert's armor. Jasper turned the warhammer over to his cousins, and they rushed to carry it back to the arsenal.
Willas Tyrell returned a few seconds later with Rhaenys Targaryen and Ashara Dayne. Not long after, Rickard rejoined them. Arya Stark and Sansa Stark came over with him, but they did not stop when he did. They and their direwolves continued all the way to the other side of the training yard to where Cersei was standing.
Robert watched as his wife interacted with the Stark sisters. He could not hear what they were saying, but Robert was certain the queen was inviting them to luncheon. Sansa seemed delighted by the prospect. Arya, not so much. Still, Sansa had agreed to spend some time with her in the yard. As such, Arya had to fulfill her part of the bargain to share in each other's interests.
As the girls left with the queen, Robert noticed Arya flashed him a bit of a nasty look. He suspected that was due to what had transpired between himself and Rickard. He had only given the Clegane boy a bruise, but Arya was very protective of her friends. And her family.
Could it be she cares for him? Of course, Arya must have cared for Rickard as a friend. All the same, it was possible that she would come to care for him as more than that. She may behave like a boy, but she is still a girl.
At any rate, everyone Robert wished to speak with was present. However, he would have preferred not to converse with them in the training yard, where they were out in the open and anyone could hear them. A change in setting would be ideal.
"Let us go to my solar," Robert proposed, "We can talk without fear of being overheard there."
"Very well, Your Grace," Ashara Dayne conceded. The others conceded.
Robert had come to the training yard with four of the Kingsguard. He left with four, as well, but not the same four. Ser Arys Oakheart had departed with Queen Cersei and the Stark girls. Ser Preston Greenfield had already been there to protect Jasper, and since the prince was leaving with his father, he would be joining up with Ser Meryn Trant, Ser Mandon Moore, and Ser Barristan Selmy. Of course, Ser Oswell Whent was coming along, too, but he was not of Robert's Kingsguard.
Unlike Cersei, Jon Arryn had lingered for Robert. The Hand joined up with the king when he and everyone else in his company exited the training yard. I never even have to ask him; he always knows when he is needed. It was then that King Robert turned to the most senior of his Kingsguard and said "Ser Barristan, would you be so kind as to locate the Grand Maester and escort him to my solar?"
"It will be done, Your Grace," the Lord Commander asserted. He bowed his head and separated from the king's group.
Robert could have sent Ser Mandon, Ser Meryn, or Ser Preston to retrieve Grand Maester Marwyn, but he trusted Ser Barristan the most. Plus, he thought it best not to have Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell in the same place for too long. Ser Oswell may have forgiven his old brother for bending the knee at the Trident, but it was likely Ser Barristan had yet to forgive himself. I can only imagine how ashamed he must feel to see his old brother doing what he swore to do. Some inexplicable feeling of compassion impelled Robert to spare Barristan Selmy that guilt.
About ten minutes later, Robert Baratheon and his party arrived at his solar. The Kingsguard were ordered to remain outside. Everyone else was permitted entrance to the chamber.
Robert sat down at his desk. Lord Jon settled down in his usual place to the king's right. Rhaenys, Jasper, and Rickard sat down in chairs on the other side of the desk. Willas and Lady Ashara were content to remain standing.
After passing a few seconds in quietness, Jasper queried "Are we waiting for something, Father?"
"Yes, the Grand Maester," King Robert responded, "There is a certain issue that I mean to address to all of you. However, I'll need him present when I do. That is the primary purpose of this meeting, in fact."
"Is there anything else we can discuss before Ser Barristan brings him?" Willas Tyrell suggested.
Robert thought on that, and he stated "Perhaps there is. I have a certain subject in mind. While not wholly a matter of precedence, I have always found it to be a fairly interesting one, just the same."
"What might that be?" Rhaenys said inquisitively.
Robert leaned back in his chair, put on a devious grin, and casually asked "How is everyone's romantic life?"
Lord Jon was appalled. He was the only one, though. Rickard and Jasper were stunned, and Willas, Rhaenys, and Lady Ashara looked as though they would laugh.
"Well?" Robert said, as though beckoning someone to speak. When all he got was silence, he remarked "If no one wants to go first, I would not mind being the one to open up the discussion."
"No, thank you, Father," Jasper muttered drily, "I would rather you not go into detail about how you and Mother spend your nights together."
"I wasn't planning to," Robert stated candidly, "I never said any of you had to describe what you've been doing. I am more curious as to know who you're doing it with."
"If it is all the same to you, Your Grace, I would rather not supply any input on this topic," Lord Jon pronounced.
"Very well, Jon," Robert murmured in acknowledgment. Besides, I know you've only had one woman in the last two decades. While you have three children by her, I would wager my hammer that you have not slept with her many more times than that. "Anyone else wish to withdraw?"
No one said anything. At that, Robert smiled again and remarked "Alright then. Who would like to go first?"
"Since I have the most experience, I suppose I will," Lady Ashara declared. Count on the Dornishwoman to speak up before anyone else. "As it happens, I have spent an evening with a man lately. Several evenings, actually. I've had some at Greywater Watch, Moat Cailin, Harrenhal, and even here in King's Landing. It's a different man every time. I even remember the names of some of them."
The good ones, probably.
Willas said inquisitively "Any women?"
Robert paid close attention then. He really wanted to know the answer to that question. By their expressions, so did Rickard and Jasper.
"It has been a long time since I shared a woman's bed," Ashara Dayne admitted, "But it is not something I am opposed to. But regardless of gender, I do not see myself getting into a serious relationship with any one person. The last individual I genuinely cared for was the late Brandon Stark."
"What about Ser Barristan?" Rhaenys countered, "Mother claimed you and he bonded during the tourney at Harrenhal.
"We did," Ashara confirmed.
The same way you and Brandon bonded?
"But not the same way Brandon and I bonded," Lady Ashara revealed. The king's eyes widened. It was as though she had honestly read his mind. "Even so, Ser Barristan was as chivalrous as can be. I became quite fond of him. In fact, had he won the final tilt against Rhaegar, he would have crowned me his Queen of Love and Beauty."
"Alas, he lost," Jasper commented.
"Yes, he did," Ashara conceded, "However, it would not surprise me if he threw the match just so his prince could win."
If he hadn't done that, I might not have ended up killing his prince on the Trident.
"I'll go next," Rhaenys offered. At that, Willas smirked, stepped up behind her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. I would have thought he'd be opposed to hearing of his intended's exploits in the bedchamber. Another thought occurred to him. Unless…
As it happened, "unless" was indeed the case. Rhaenys disclosed "The day we came to King's Landing, Willas had me in his quarters for dinner. I ended up staying for breakfast, as well. If you know what I mean."
Lady Ashara looked astounded. "Are you saying…?"
Rhaenys just grinned and nodded her head. Willas then proudly proclaimed "When Rhaenys and I are finally wed, you do not have to worry about our union being consummated. We've already accomplished that part."
"Fairly well, I might add," Rhaenys slyly amended.
For a moment, Ashara appeared to be aghast. Then she eased down and rolled her eyes, as if she suddenly decided the situation was more humorous than outrageous. Still, Robert could imagine she was not looking forward to telling Rhaenys' mother. Especially since Princess Elia is said to be her best friend.
Robert turned to his son and inquired "How about you, Jasper?"
The Crown Prince did not reply right away. He seemed hesitant to say anything at all. Eventually, though, he bluntly said "I don't really have anything to contribute, Father. I mean, I haven't-"
"I know you haven't," King Robert interjected, "But if our line is to continue, you'll have to someday. I am more curious to know if you have managed to single out any one girl for that honor."
"Not just yet," Jasper confessed, "However, I have come to develop feelings for one of the Stark sisters."
Rickard tensed up a little. Remembering what had transpired in the training yard earlier, Robert did, as well. This might turn ugly. Even so, he had to know. This issue concerned his son's future, after all. He enquired "Which one?"
"Sansa," Jasper replied. At that, Rickard and Robert were relieved. He more than I, most definitely. "You'd be interested to know that Mother speaks fondly of her. When was the last time Mother spoke fondly of any girl who wanted me to court her?"
"There was no last time," Robert recounted. No first time, either. "I am pleased your mother approves of her. Nevertheless, what matters to me is what you think of Sansa."
"Oh, she is a wonderful girl," Jasper professed, "She is beautiful, courteous, sweet, and every bit a proper lady. While it may be too soon to say for certain, I feel she would make an excellent queen. I doubt she would be averse to the prospect, given how often she makes time for me. Only…"
There he paused for a moment. Robert bade him to continue with "Only what?"
"Well, perhaps it is only Prince Jasper Baratheon she likes," the Crown Prince contended, "Suppose I was Ser Jasper, Lord Jasper, or just Jasper instead. Maybe she would not be so keen to associate with me then."
"You believe she only cares about being queen?" Rhaenys presumed.
"I'd like to think not," Jasper disclosed, "She does not seem that shallow. But it is a possibility."
"As it happens, that was all your mother was interested in," Robert recalled, "Up until our wedding night, that is. After that, she and I came to love each other. That did not take long. I can assure you that you were not conceived solely out of duty."
"Lovely," Jasper muttered sarcastically.
To Robert's astonishment, Jon Arryn chose to add his voice to the conversation. He told Jasper "Love does not always come before marriage, dear prince. Often it comes after. That was how it was in the case of your father, in the case of Lord Eddard Stark, and in the case of myself. Sometimes, love does not come at all. In your case, I am confident it will."
"I wish I shared your confidence, Lord Hand," Jasper mumbled bitterly.
"You mustn't question your ability, Your Grace," Lord Jon advised him, "I know the Starks. Many people see them as cold and grim. They may very well be, but that does not mean they are shallow or devoid of empathy. They are not; none of them. They are as capable of love as the rest of us."
That seemed to set Jasper's mind at ease. He smiled and observed "Then I guess there's hope for me."
"And for Rickard," Robert wryly added in.
That statement succeeded in bewildering every person in the solar, especially the youngest one among them. The heir to Moat Cailin stated inquiringly "How do you mean, Your Grace?"
"I have seen the way you and Lady Arya interact," King Robert expounded, "You've taken a fancy to her, haven't you?"
"What led you to believe that?" Rickard enquired, as though he was flabbergasted. He did not try to deny the accusation. That alone was enough to confirm Robert's suspicions.
"Trust me, my boy; I know," Robert pronounced, "You would not be the first to have taken a fancy to a daughter of House Stark. The very same thing happened to me in my youth."
"I don't fancy her," Rickard insisted, unconvincingly, "I enjoy spending time with her plenty. She is a great friend and a superb sparring partner. But that does not mean I am smitten with her."
"I never said you were," Robert pointed out. Rickard flushed at that. Perhaps he is smitten, but he just does not realize it yet. He folded his arms and asked "You are how old? Four and ten?"
"Two and ten, actually," Rickard answered him. He is two years younger than Jasper; yet Rickard is taller. Hells, other than myself, he's taller than anyone here. Cleganes really were precocious. "Arya is ten. We're both too young to be thinking about love and the things it leads to."
"For now," Robert contended, "But soon enough, she'll be a woman, and you'll be a man. There is no escaping the future and its responsibilities."
That's one thing I've learned from sitting on the Iron Throne.
"Arya won't like that," Rickard glumly thought aloud, "She has no desire to be a lady. On several occasions, she told me that herself. Marriage and children do not appeal to her in the slightest. She would much sooner become a lieutenant in the Legion without Banners than someone's wife or someone else's mother."
"If so, you could make that work to your advantage," Robert debated.
"How so?" said Rickard, intrigued.
"Your lady mother became a Legionnaire at a very early age," the king pronounced, "I suppose that was what ultimately led to her marriage to your father."
"That's correct," Rickard affirmed.
"After Dacey Mormont married Gregor Clegane and bore him you and your younger siblings, she continued serving as one of the Legion's top officers," Robert Baratheon professed, "I know how your father treats her as an equal in everything. Even now, she is leading an expedition across the Narrow Sea. I could have given command of that assignment to any man from the Legion or the Royal Army. But I chose Lady Dacey because I believe she is as competent as any man."
"I am very grateful that you think so highly of my mother, Your Grace," the heir to Moat Cailin stated appreciatively.
"Tell me; what does Arya Stark think of her?" Robert inquired.
"Oh, she idolizes her," Rickard proclaimed, chuckling a bit.
"I'm not surprised," the king muttered, "Suppose you told Arya she could be like Lady Dacey. Would she be so opposed to having a family then?"
"At the very least, she would be less opposed," Rickard conjectured, "I certainly wouldn't object to having her fight alongside me. In fact, that is what attracted me to her in the first place."
"You should tell her that," Robert advised the Clegane boy, "Not now, though. As you said, you and she are too young to be talking about commitment. Be that as it may, you mustn't wait too long. Your parents and hers may try to arrange some other marriages contracts in the next few years."
"May I ask when you think it would be a good time to speak to her?" Rickard Clegane asked hopefully.
"No, that is for you to decide," King Robert Baratheon stated, "However, I would recommend you approach her sometime before the Long Night. At least then, she would have something more to fight for and something to look forward to once the Others are vanquished."
"That is true," Rickard contended. He sat thinking on this subject for a minute, and then he pronounced "I thank you for your counsel, Your Grace. I intend to make good use of it."
Robert did not say anything. He just grinned and nodded. I wish you luck, lad. If Arya is anything like her late aunt, you may need it. Then again, Rickard's chances were already looking a lot more promising than the king's. After all, the heir to Moat Cailin would be able to offer Arya something Robert had denied his former betrothed. Two things, really: fair and equal treatment, and the right to march into battle with him.
Furthermore, this coupling would bring several political advantages, as well. A marriage between House Stark and the northern branch of House Clegane would be beneficial for both houses. In a way, it would be beneficial for the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, too. One of those houses controls the North and holds the Wall; the other house ensures the stability of the realm. Together, they could achieve even more than ever before. Surely Ned and Cat – as well as Lord Gregor and Lady Dacey – had thought of that, too.
Robert felt strangely pleased with himself at this time. What had started out as idle gossip about intimacy had resulted in him giving sage advice and reassurance to the heir of one of the most influential houses in all of Westeros. Good counsel really does come from the most unexpected of places.
Robert only wished he could always be so sagacious. This was one of the few times in his reign where he had not relied on Cersei or Jon to guide or assist him. While it was true that a good king needed good advisors around him, Robert felt he should not have to rely on those advisors. Ned would deny it, but he would have been much better at this than I. Oh, well. No use lamenting on what's in the past.
Not long after this conversation reached its conclusion, there was a heavy knock on the entrance of the solar. Everyone turned towards it, and Robert called out "Enter!"
Ser Barristan Selmy opened the door, and then he stepped aside to admit Grand Maester Marwyn. Once the Grand Maester was inside, Ser Barristan closed the door behind him.
"My sincerest apologies if I have kept you waiting, Your Grace," Marwyn told the king.
"No worries, maester," Robert Baratheon asserted. He gestured to an empty chair to the left of his desk and bade him "Have a seat."
Grand Maester Marwyn calmly walked over to the chair, his lengthy maester's chain clinking softly with every step. He sat down in the chair and folded his arms in a rather solemn manner. Everything he does, everything about him is solemn.
Marwyn the Mage was one of the most respected and accomplished members of the Citadel. After the untimely death of his successor, Pycelle, the Conclave had elected him to serve on the small council. The first vote had been nearly unanimous in his favor; the second, entirely unanimous. In the time since then, he had performed the job commendably and superbly.
Marwyn was considerably younger than Pycelle had been, and based on what Robert heard from those who had known the latter, the former was much more agreeable, trustworthy, and far better-organized. He had been all throughout the realm, and even across the Narrow Sea at least once. In these troubled times, men like him are invaluable to us.
As Marwyn got settled in his chair, Robert turned to face the other people in the solar. He gazed around at them and perceived "Some or all of you must be wondering just why I asked you here."
"Well, I assume it was not just to talk about our sex lives," Lady Ashara muttered wittily.
"If it was, you wouldn't have invited the maester," Jasper japed.
Rickard, Willas, and Rhaenys snickered at that. Lord Jon sighed, and Robert rolled his eyes. He does have a point, though. Even though maesters are required to forfeit the right to fuck, no one can actually prevent them from having that kind of fun. All the same, I know Marwyn to be a man who takes all his oaths, including the one of celibacy, seriously.
"Anyway…" Robert blankly went on when the laughter subsided, "I have some news to share with the lot of you."
"What news, Your Grace?" Willas enquired.
King Robert did not answer. Instead, he turned to Marwyn and ordered him "Show them."
The Grand Maester nodded, reached into his robes, and pulled out two letters. Both of them had already been opened. One of them had been sealed with orange wax bearing the sun and spear of House Nymeros Martell. The other had been sealed with purple wax bearing the lone mountain of House Clegane of Moat Cailin.
The Grand Maester gave the former to Rhaenys and the latter to Rickard. As they took the missives and began to read them, Marwyn disclosed "The first one was sent from Volantis by your mother, Princess Rhaenys. The second one was sent from Pentos by yours, Lord Rickard. Both arrived just this morning, likely when you were breaking your fast."
"What are they?" Jasper said inquiringly.
"Essentially, progress reports," Robert Baratheon enlightened his son, "Princess Elia has acquired a lead on the whereabouts of the Golden Company. She has also confirmed that the false Aegon Lord Gregor spoke of is real, and he and Lord Jon Connington are travelling with the Company. Elia Martell has enlisted a trio of Volantene nobles to assist her and her party with finding the Golden Company.
"Meanwhile, Lady Dacey has established contact with Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen," the king continued, "The dragon eggs are now in our possession. Well, Daenerys' possession, to be precise, but she and her brother are now in our custody, so it makes little matter. Furthermore, for reasons unknown, Daenerys decided to go ahead with her marriage to Khal Drogo."
"That is great news!" Ashara Dayne exclaimed giddily, "Now we have forged alliances with the Triarchs of Volantis and the Dothraki."
"That may seem advantageous," Jon Arryn disputed, "Alas, both scenarios come with a downside."
"Quite so," Robert Baratheon concurred, "The Golden Company is very determined to evade public notice, and Khal Drogo must take his new bride to Vaes Dothrak to formally present her as his khaleesi."
"As such, it could be several weeks – maybe months – before Princess Elia and Lady Dacey come any closer to accomplishing their objectives," Grand Maester Marwyn profressed, "And, because they and their companies will roaming all throughout the wildlands of Essos, we may not receive another progress report from either of them until they have succeeded."
Princess Rhaenys gave a deep frown, and Rickard gazed at his letter sadly. The others tried to comfort them. Willas caressed his intended's shoulders, and Jasper patted his best friend on the back gently. Lady Ashara tried to say something to reassure them both, but she could not think of anything to say.
Robert Baratheon did not have the same problem. He declared "I know how you must feel. When I was young, my father and my mother sailed across the Narrow Sea. The Mad King sent them there on an errand. Just before they left, they promised me and my brothers that they would return soon. They failed Aerys and us. They were unable to find a suitable bride for Rhaegar, and their ship went down within sight of Storm's End."
Rhaenys, Jasper, and Rickard appeared shocked to hear this story. Robert expected them to be; they had been born after it took place. Willas and Ashara had been alive at the time, but they seemed no less astounded. For some, I suppose hearing this story over and over doesn't make it any easier to hear. It certainly doesn't become any easier for me to tell.
Robert Baratheon let out a strained sigh and mumbled "In spite of that tragedy, I must urge you not to despair. Dacey Mormont and Elia Martell are strong and resilient. Not just by the standards of women; by the standards of men, too. Of course, I cannot claim to know either of them very well, but I know enough to reasonably assume that they will not meet the same fate as my own parents."
"Your Grace… I cannot begin to tell you how much those words mean to me," Rhaenys Targaryen murmured in a soft tone. "Having lived apart from my mother and my brothers for most of my life, I have come to realize how precious family is. Now that all three of them are in a foreign land, I cannot stop thinking about all the possible dangers they might face."
"I can relate," Rickard Clegane conceded, "I have been likewise worried for my mother and my brothers Alyver and Torrhen ever since they sailed for Pentos. And my uncle, aunt, and youngest cousin, for that matter. Hells, I'm worried for my entire family. After the attempt to destroy the printing press at Moat Cailin, I cannot stop imagining what misfortunes could befall my father, my sister Vallory, and my brother Larys. Despite that, my cousin and grandmother are now travelling to the moat, even after the attack on my uncle at Clegane's Keep. It seems that no matter where my family goes, there is no way to guarantee their safety."
Robert Baratheon was not one to get sentimental, even when sharing tender moments with his wife. Nevertheless, at that moment, he felt for Rhaenys Targaryen and Rickard Clegane. Both of them feel lost. They are stuck in a hostile city, separated from their entire families with no way of seeing or protecting their loved ones. And I did that.
Still, he would not get emotional. When it came to his kingly duties, he kept emotion strictly out of the equation. That was one tactic that served him equally well in both the rebellion and the years of ruling that came after. Never shed a tear in front of your subjects. Only behind closed doors. Of course, even when in private, Robert Baratheon rarely shed tears. His last tear had been for Lyanna Stark, when he first learned of her death. Even so, like every other hardship in his life, he had overcome the loss of his former betrothed and found comfort in the arms of his wife.
At any rate, Robert folded his arms and announced "If you wish for some peace of mind, there is something you can do to help your mothers. In fact, it could help everyone in both your families."
That got Rhaenys and Rickard's full attention. Incidentally, it also got that of Jasper, Willas, and Ashara.
Once he verified that everyone there was listening to him, Robert stated "It's time I told you the real reason you are here."
"We have been wondering that since we got here, Your Grace," Willas stated frankly.
"I meant 'here' as in King's Landing," Robert elaborated.
"'Real reason?'" Jasper repeated in perplexity "That should be obvious. They're here to serve as wards of the crown."
"That is only partly why they're here," King Robert pronounced, "Rhaenys and Rickard are mainly here to ensure that their families continue to show fealty to the crown. However, they can accomplish this by more than simply being hostages of the throne."
"How else might we do so, Your Grace?" Rickard inquired.
"By demonstrating your ability to cooperate with the crown, as well," Robert disclosed. He leaned forward and declared "I have a task for you. If you think yourselves up to it, that is."
"First tell us what it is, if you please," Rhaenys requested as politely as possible.
King Robert turned to Marwyn and beckoned him to take over from here. The Grand Maester moved his chair a little closer, and then he professed "This morning, shortly after the ravens carrying those letters arrived, a third raven was spotted by one of my acolytes. However, this raven did not come to the rookery above my apartments. Instead, it flew to one of the lower levels of the Red Keep, where it disappeared into an opening in the wall facing the sea."
"Could the raven have been injured?" Jasper supposed.
"Or disoriented?" Willas theorized.
"If this had been a one-time occurrence, either might have been possible," Grand Maester Marwyn contended, "However, that raven was not the first to inexplicably vanish. For the last several months, as far back as when the Night's Watch confirmed the return of the Others, a number of ravens have been seen mysteriously flying in or out of the lower levels of the Red Keep. They always come in from or head off to the east, meaning their origin or destination is somewhere across the Narrow Sea."
"And you have no clear indication of where these ravens are?" Rhaenys presumed.
"Correct," Lord Jon Arryn affirmed, "All we have determined is that someone must be using them to correspond with someone else in the Free Cities. But that much should be evident."
"How could those ravens travel back and forth without going to the rookery?" Lady Ashara wondered.
"Could there be a second rookery hidden somewhere in the bowels of the Red Keep?" Rickard hypothesized.
"That is our belief," Marwyn the Mage disclosed, "Alas, despite our best efforts, we have been unable to locate this hidden rookery. Even Lord Varys has been unsuccessful in that pursuit."
"Varys claims his little birds cannot discover the hidden rookery," Robert Baratheon countered, "We should question everything the Spider tells us, including this. For all we know, they have found the rookery, but he is choosing to withhold that information from us."
"Knowing Varys, that is a possibility," Lady Ashara conceded, "But suppose he actually hasn't found the hidden rookery. How could Rhaenys and Rickard succeed where the Master of Whisperers has failed?"
"They could do so because of their particular dispositions," Robert Baratheon elucidated, "The Targaryens called this building home for centuries, and this strikes me as the typical dilemma the Legion without Banners would resolve."
"That is logical, Your Grace," Rickard mumbled candidly, "However, I am still a little confused. How would uncovering this hidden rookery prove our usefulness or our fealty?"
"For that matter, how would it help us protect our loved ones?" Rhaenys said inquiringly.
"Both those questions have the same answer," Jon Arryn replied, "We are almost entirely certain that the person who is sending and receiving those ravens is collaborating with an enemy of the crown. Maybe the other person is part of a rival khalaasar, or a member of the Golden Company. It could even be a spy in Lady Dacey's company or Princess Elia's. Whoever it is, it cannot be an ally. If it was an ally, their accomplice here would have gone to the trouble of building a hidden rookery."
King Robert then stated "At present, there is nothing to suggest that the person using this hidden rookery is an immediate threat to any of us. So, we are in no great hurry to find it. Even so, I do not intend to let it go unnoticed for much longer. However, I do not know who among my own people I could entrust with the crucial assignment of uncovering it. That is another reason why you should be the ones to do it. By finding this hidden rookery and catching whoever is using it, you two would effectively eliminate a threat to your family across the Narrow Sea, earn some prestige for your family still in the Seven Kingdoms, uphold order in part or all of the Seven Kingdoms, prove your loyalty to me, and gain favor with the crown."
Five separate yet equally meaningful motivations. One or two may have been sufficient to convince Rhaenys Targaryen and Rickard Clegane that it would be in their best interests to comply with the king's request. But he was determined to win them over, so he provided five.
In any case, they achieved their purpose. After a minute of quiet contemplation, Rickard and Rhaenys rose from their chairs, and they held out their right hands.
"You have my full cooperation, Your Grace," Rhaenys declared.
"You have mine, as well," Rickard conceded.
Robert Baratheon grinned in satisfaction and shook hands with both of them. "Excellent."
After the handshakes, Jasper stood up and asked "Just a minute, Father. Will you expect them to conduct an investigation on their own?"
"Of course not," Robert Baratheon assured his son, "They are smart, but I do not expect them to work miracles. Lord Jon, the Grand Maester, and I will supply them with whatever resources they may require. Additionally, they can bring anyone they'd trust into the investigation. Which includes the people in this room."
Unsurprisingly, Jasper smiled. If I know my son, he's already decided to render his assistance. So have Lady Ashara and Lord Willas. That was the overall impression the king had of Rickard, Rhaenys, and their companions. They had such faith in one another, it was almost ridiculous. Yet at the same time… it was admirable.
Would that I could have such faith in my own people… alas, I cannot. For all I know, one of those closest to me is also the one using those ravens.
