Word to the Wise
Robert Baratheon of course was to be crowned king, there was no issue with that and Cersei was arranged to him by Tywin's doing. He still mourned the loss of Ned's sister whom he had loved from the time they were children. The New to be King had been over jovial and drowning in wine, while being very…flirtatious. Yet instead of the whore he would have paid for in his half drunken state he found another woman in his chamber entirely. Farfella Lannister was in his chair at his desk. Fingers toying with a quill. Her sharp eyes traveled the length of the feather and then like lightning flickered to the King. She had slimmed down after giving birth to her child, Evian Lannister, a boy. Dressed sharply as the day Tywin had met her in her riding clothes, hair pulled back and braided a special way.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose keeping her gaze, he hadn't felt this tense even around Tywin and she had yet to utter a word. Standing up from her spot she still walked with a liquid grace. Quill set aside as graceful fingers traced it down against the desk to which got a trace by fingertips. Approaching him, Robert took a step back unconsciously as his hand gripped his belt but his hammer wasn't on him.
"Hello future good son, I'm afraid I sent your entertainment home." She put her hands gracefully in front of her, tilting her head.
That gaze made him feel as if his soul was being laid bare. He startled when he realized Gregor Clegane was with her and had been in the shadows as if he was her shadow.
"Tomorrow you marry my daughter. A new kingdom but let me drop the pleasantries and speak honestly and plainly for you to understand." She stopped in front of him looking up.
"You will marry my Daughter and pay your debt; your children will be of my line, and Lannister. If you cannot repay your debt, your children will because they will be mine as she is mine. With that being said…" She walked nearly into him he turned backing up and fell into a chair.
Gripping it as he had to look up at her. The darkness there rivaled the dead King, but unlike him there was no madness in those eyes. True, clear, intelligent intent, he fought not to swallow audibly.
"You will also grieve like a gods damn man and not a woman. Drink if you must, but if I catch you with another Whore you will lose what you seem to not Value and save for your wife. King or not," She leaned in suddenly gripping the chair, her personal dagger split the wood in the other side, so close, a very faint line stung his cheek, the faintest of cuts.
"I helped put you on that Iron Throne, I already removed one king…I'll do it again, are we clear Robert?" She said his name without title, and with darkness to it he did swallow.
Nodding his answer she backed off but left the dagger there. Turning she made for the door which Gregor opened but stopped in the doorway.
"Oh and one more thing, "She turned slightly facing him he stared back at her still as a deer before a wolf.
"You will make Jamie the Hand of the King…to show me you understand your debt." She smiled. "Goodnight King Robert." She took her leave of him.
Gregor followed behind her glancing Robert as he closed the door smiling at the King. Once alone Robert breathed and touched his cheek with a trembling hand looking at the dagger. It was the one Jamie had used to kill the very man who was to set this city aflame in dragon's fire. His hands were damp with sweat and he moved to the table in a rush to chug the wine.
Looking at himself in the mirror after, wine dripping from his beard, he was so pale.
"What the fuck did you get yourself into…?" He said to his reflection who only stared back.
