Ser Robert Quince had never expected to hold the position he had been granted, he had always been content serving Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen on Dragonstone. He was a knight but his fighting days were long behind him and had spent most of his time working with Maester Gerardys before he was named Castellan. Since the departure of Queen Rhaenyra, her army, and her dragons to King's Landing the island had gone quiet, with the exception of a fight between two wild dragons causing an incident some weeks back, and Robert was looking for another quiet day.
He huffed and puffed his way down from his chambers to the courtyard of the dreary castle, it was no secret that he had long let himself go to fat and was thinking it might be time to move to a ground-level chamber. Some of the garrison were training under the watch of Ser Alfred Broome, the most senior member of the personnel left on the island, the stern man barked corrections when a young man-at-arms missed timed his strike.
Robert steered clear of the other knight to his preferred part of Dragonstone, the feasting hall.
"Ser Robert, a good morning to you," Grand Maester Gerardys greeted him from his place at the head table where the Queen would normally sit and where Robert sat in her absence.
"It is a good morning, Grand Maester," Robert returned the greeting, thumping into his seat. "Has there been any word from our Queen?"
The old Grand Maester sighed. "No, there had been no word at all since the death of Prince Daemon."
"We can only hope for good word then."
Robert started out his morning with a small meal of five courses of rich meats and sweets, a benefit of serving on Dragonstone was its connection to the trade routes with the Vale and the Free Cities of Essos. The blockade the Blacks were holding on King's Landing further stockpiled goods that left Dragonstone's storehouses full to bursting and Robert wasn't about to let it go to waste. He was partway through his second course when the great doors were pushed open and Ser Alfred entered alongside an uncomfortable-looking Lady Baela Targaryen clutching her young half-sister Princess Visenya to her chest.
It was no surprise to see the sisters together, since Prince Daemon's departure with Queen Rhaenyra to King's Landing and Baela's twin Rhaena leaving for the Vale, Baela was almost never seen without Visenya. The only time she would consent to leave her sister would be when she took to the skies on Moondancer, and she hadn't been allowed that since the Cannibal's recent activity and her own determination to investigate.
Baela quickly moved away from Ser Alfred to the head table, sitting down beside Robert and Gerardys, the knight sat with some of the garrison.
"Is something wrong Lady Baela?" Gerardys asked.
Baela bounced her infant sister. "No, Alfred was attempting to be familiar, and failing at it, I see why my father never liked him and I still wish the Queen had brought him with the rest. He must have too much of a blowhard to survive King's Landing."
"He has served faithfully for nearly two decades, longer than any of us," Gerardys chided. "I admit he has never been the easiest man to get along with but he has earned his place."
Robert downed a goblet of Arbor Gold, rare to find at the moment with House Redwyn siding with the Greens but he needed it to start his day, thinking he agreed more with Lady Baela. Dragonstone would have been well-rid of the surly knight.
"Robert," Baela said. "I wanted to ask again if I could take Moondancer and scout the island, I am sure that there is something more than just the Cannibal out there."
"And I have already told you, there is nothing to worry about and I will not have you risking your life battling a dragon four times the size of your own who has no interest in us if we just leave him alone."
"But what if it wasn't the Cannibal that drove off Grey Ghost," Baela insisted.
"What other dragon could it have been? The Queen took every other dragon on the island with her to King's Landing and the traitors wouldn't bring them here."
"But we still haven't heard of where Sunfyre went," Baela countered. "What if he came here."
Robert set his goblet down with a frustrated clink. "There is no threat on the island, we are the heart of the Blacks Faction. Just relax my lady and put these concerns to bed."
Robert was in a frustrated mood for the rest of the morning, though this did not stop him from having his usual five courses, tired of the regular argument from the girl under his protection. Baela was so much like her father, in many of the worst ways, fearless, craving adventure, and an attraction for the opposite sex that had Robert worried he would wake one morning to find Baela pregnant with a bastard at four-and-ten. Often he wished it had been Baela sent to the Vale and Rhaena who remained, perhaps the Maiden of the Vale would have had more luck taming the wild dragon.
Most of Robert's duties as Castellan were just keeping the castle running, ensuring the garrison was paid, and listening to what troubled the Smallfolk. It was largely sedentary work in his office, made easier with how empty the island had been the last year.
Ser Alfred entered his office without so much as a knock, sitting down across the desk from the Castellan.
"May I help you Ser?" Robert asked not looking up from a report of several sheep being killed in the mountains close to the castle. The Cannibal's work again, Robert assumed, with so few dragons left on Dragonstone it was expected the old dragon would start looking for food. As long as no one was actually harmed he didn't have to risk the entire garrison against the black dragon.
"There are concerns regarding the little lady's dragon," the other knight said bluntly. "It has been hissing up a storm since you barred the little lady from flying and my guards are worried it will attack them."
"And what would you have me do?" Robert spread his arms out. "I may be the Castellan but titles have little impact on dragon."
Alfred's mouth twitched. "I would either secure the beast before it starts setting my men on fire or let the little lady go flying again."
"We both know I can not allow that," Robert leaned back in his seat. "She would go straight for the Cannibal, almost certainly get herself eaten then we would all deal with the wroth of the Sea Snake and Queen Rhaenyra."
"Then chain up the dragon till it can't move, keep it secure," Alfred insisted. "Before it decides to make a meal of us all."
It was a suggestion Robert had heard before, the dragon Moondancer had been growing restless in the sables, he already had to remove the horses after she killed one and devoured the poor creature. But she would almost certainly burn several of his men to a crisp before secured and then he would have to deal with Baela's fury at restraining her beloved dragon.
He shook his head. "No just leave give the dragon more food and leave her be, with any luck in another week's time the Cannibal will move on far enough for Lady Baela to no longer be at risk to let fly."
"And if it does go on a rampage?"
"Then you best move your men away till Lady Baela can calm her dragon," Robert said flatly.
"You're putting an awful lot of faith in a wild girl you can't control, she is too much like her father," Alfred retorted.
"And I would have assumed after your long time service on Dragonstone you would have more faith in House Targaryen and their dragons. Now is that all or was there more she wished to say?"
Alfred stood. "No, that is all Ser Robert."
The stern knight skulked from the chamber slamming the door behind him as he went. Robert put aside the disruption from his rival to return to the busy work of maintaining the castle. He did not see Ser Alfred the rest of the day, not in the yard, on the battlements, or in the dining hall for dinner. It seemed the other knight had vanished, probably to his quarters or to find comfort in the nearby village. It was of little concern to Robert who felt better not having to see the man and had a much more pleasant time without having to see him.
Grand Maester Gerardys questioned the knight's disappearance and Baela noted a few men-at-arms were missing as well at supper. They had probably just gone to join Ser Alfred at whatever tavern or brothel the man had found to sulk in and would be back soon. All their absence meant was more food and ale for the rest of them. As night fell Robert retired to his chambers, tired by the time he reached the top of the small flight of stairs and ready to rest off his meal.
The old castellan collapsed into his bed, the wooden frame creaking under his weight but it held him. He pulled the covers tight over his large body and allowed the ale to help him sleep and wake late in the morning to start the routine over again.
He was not expecting to be woken by the sounds of fighting but part-way through the night he was pulled from his dreams by the sound of steel clashing against steel and the screams of dying men. Robert's eyes burst open and he scrambled to a sitting position in confusion and disbelief at the noises he heard. Dragonstone under attack? Impossible, it was the seat of Queen Rhaenyra and the Black's power. It was protected by the might of the Velaryon's fleet by the south and east, the north was guarded by the Arryns of the Vale, and the west was protected by the queen and her dragons. It was unthinkable that any enemy force capable of taking the castle could sneak its way past all those forces.
But still, the sounds of fighting begged to differ.
As the old knight tried to brush away sleep and figure out what he had to do, heavy footsteps came from beyond his door, and before Robert could even think to go for the sword resting near his bed that he hadn't used in a decade the door burst open and Ser Alfred Broome came running in with three guardsmen filing in behind him. For perhaps the first time ever Robert breathed a breath of relief on seeing the other knight, even if it was almost certainly his fault the garrison was caught so off guard to allow enemies inside the walls.
"Ser Alfred, what is happening?"
"The castle has been taken by the Greens Ser Robert," Alfred said flatly.
"I can gather that much!" Robert threw an arm at the open window. "What matters is how this has happened!"
Alfred raised an eye. "How? Well, that is simple enough to answer, most of us felt that we could get a better deal from the King instead of answering to the princess who has given us little and less."
Robert gapped at the knight. "Most of us… what are you saying Ser Alfred?!"
Alfred turned the spear he carried over in hand. "What I am saying is this you fat old fool."
Ser Alfred charged Robert, spear at the ready, the old knight struggled to rise from his bed, to get away from the traitor and get to his blade, he had to fight for his queen!
The spear plunged into his great stomach and Robert let out a pained gasp, feeling the blade drive all the way through him, grunting as it came out the other end and into the bed beneath him. Robert futilely grasped at the shaft, giving a weak tug at the weapon buried in him, his vision fading fast. Robert faintly heard Ser Alfred giving orders to his men as he slouched back, a final curse against the traitor failing to make it past his lips.