The day had broken over King's Landing, casting its golden light over the Red Keep, but within the halls, a shadow was beginning to spread. The smallfolk whispered of intrigue and poison, and nobles cast uneasy glances at one another in the aftermath of Maelor's mysterious death. Despite the growing tension, Robert Stronghammer remained calm, carefully laying the groundwork for his next move.
As he moved through the corridors of the keep, Robert felt the weight of his plan beginning to take shape. Lord Velaryon, a man of ambition, had always kept himself at the periphery of power, never quite achieving the prominence he desired. He was well-liked by some and despised by others—a perfect target for the plot Robert intended to set in motion.
Robert had already begun sowing the seeds of doubt. Over the past several days, he had used his contacts—smallfolk, merchants, and a few disgruntled guardsmen—to spread rumors. These whispers wove a tale of Velaryon's supposed secret dealings with the now-deceased Maelor, a narrative of betrayal and ambition that painted Velaryon as the man who sought to silence the Master of Whispers for knowing too much.
Ever since Robert Stronghammer had uncovered the truth behind the War of the Stepstones, a burning resentment had festered within him toward Lord Corlys Velaryon. The Stepstones had been a blood-soaked battleground where thousands of smallfolk had lost their lives, all for Velaryon's lust for control over the shipping lanes. He had waged that war under the guise of freeing the Narrow Sea from pirate control, but Robert found out—the real motive was trade. Crossing taxes and tariffs had pinched Velaryon's wealth, and the Sea Snake had gone to war to eliminate those who dared impose on his profits.
For Robert, who had fought alongside men who bled and died in that pointless war, Velaryon's unchecked power was something that needed to be curbed. The opportunity had come with Maelor's death, but Robert knew that taking down Velaryon would require more than one carefully planted poison. The Velaryons, though a smaller house, had immense influence, especially with their ties to the Targaryens through marriage. If Robert was to strike at them, it would need to be through the court of public opinion—through rumors, doubt, and the manipulation of old grievances.
As he walked through the bustling streets of King's Landing toward the hidden base of the Blackstone Legion, Robert's mind raced with plans. Velaryon's wealth and ships gave him power, but power could easily be turned against him. The key to bringing down Corlys Velaryon lay not in direct action, but in using the king's court and the undercurrents of resentment already brewing against the Velaryons.
When Robert arrived at the Blackstone Legion's base, he was greeted with cheers and applause. His success in eliminating Maelor, the Master of Whispers, had solidified his standing within the secretive group. Holden Cross, the leader of the Blackstone Legion, approached Robert with a firm handshake and a glint of approval in his eye.
"Well done, Stronghammer," Holden said, his voice low and gravelly. "Maelor's death has created the perfect distraction, and no one suspects a thing."
Robert nodded. "But it's not enough. We need to use this moment to weaken the Velaryons. Corlys is too powerful, and his ambitions could challenge the crown itself."
Holden crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "And how do you propose we do that?"
Robert smiled, his mind already spinning with the details of the plan. "I have already planted rumors. Everyone knows Velaryon's ambitions aren't limited to controlling the seas. He's married to Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was. She was passed over for the throne in favor of Viserys, and many believe it was a mistake. What if we suggest that Corlys and his wife are plotting to overthrow Viserys and place Rhaenys on the Iron Throne?"
Holden's expression darkened, intrigued by the prospect. "That would be dangerous talk. The Velaryons have many allies."
"They do," Robert agreed, "but they also have many enemies. House Hightower, for one, is no friend to Velaryon. And there are others, lords who have been hurt by Velaryon's insatiable greed during the War of the Stepstones. We can use that. We spread the rumor that Corlys believes his wife should have been queen and that the Velaryons are quietly gathering support to challenge Rhaenyra's claim, calling Viserys a hypocrite for naming a woman as his heir after denying the same right to Rhaenys."
Holden grunted in approval. "You think the lords will believe it?"
"They don't need to believe it," Robert said, his voice cold and calculating. "They only need to wonder if it might be true. The more people hear the rumor, the more they'll start to question Corlys's loyalty. And once that doubt takes root, it will be impossible to remove."
Holden's face twisted into a smile. "A clever plan. But how do we make sure the right people hear this?"
Robert's eyes gleamed. "We start with the smallfolk. They're always the first to gossip, and they've suffered under Velaryon's taxes. His war in the Stepstones cost them dearly, and many of them lost sons, brothers, and fathers fighting in a conflict they didn't understand. They already hate him for it. We whisper that Velaryon is plotting treason, that he seeks to raise his wife to the throne, and that he's willing to spill more blood to do it."
Holden nodded slowly. "And once the smallfolk start talking, the lords will have no choice but to pay attention."
Robert's plan was already in motion. As the days passed, he quietly enlisted the help of his network of informants, sending them into the inns, taverns, and markets of King's Landing. They spoke in hushed tones about the Velaryons, suggesting that Lord Corlys had never forgiven Viserys for passing over his wife, Rhaenys, and that he was biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.
The whispers spread like wildfire. The smallfolk, who had always resented the wealthy nobles who ruled over them, were eager to believe the worst about a man like Velaryon. Soon, rumors began to circulate about secret meetings between Corlys and discontented lords, about ships being prepared for war, and about letters exchanged between the Sea Snake and powerful allies in the Reach and Dorne.
Within a fortnight, the lords of the court had begun to hear the rumors. Some dismissed them outright, unwilling to believe that a man like Corlys Velaryon would risk open treason. But others, especially those who had suffered losses during the Stepstones conflict, were more willing to believe. They had seen firsthand the consequences of Velaryon's ambition, and they knew how far he was willing to go to protect his interests.
One evening, as Robert sat in the halls of the Blackstone Legion's base, Holden approached him with a satisfied look on his face.
"It's working," Holden said. "The lords are starting to talk. Some of them have even begun to question Velaryon's loyalty openly."
Robert leaned back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips. "Good. We need to keep the pressure on. Once enough lords begin to suspect Velaryon, the king will have no choice but to act. And when he does, we'll be ready to take advantage."
Holden crossed his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What if the king does nothing? What if he ignores the rumors?"
Robert's smile widened. "Then we give him a reason not to ignore them. There are always ways to plant evidence, letters, or documents that point to treason. We'll forge whatever we need to push Velaryon into a corner. And once he's there, he won't be able to escape."
Holden nodded, his eyes gleaming with the promise of success. "The Velaryons won't know what hit them."
As Robert sat back, he felt a sense of satisfaction. The pieces were falling into place, and soon, Lord Corlys Velaryon would be brought low by the very rumors and whispers that Robert had set into motion. It was only a matter of time before the Sea Snake's influence was shattered, leaving Robert and the Blackstone Legion with one less obstacle in their path to justice.
He stood in a narrow alleyway deep within the shadow of the city, waiting for one of his informants, a weaselly merchant named Darin. Darin had proven useful in the past, his connections with both the nobles and the underworld providing Robert with vital information. He was also easily manipulated—a key trait Robert valued.
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled Robert's attention. Darin appeared from around the corner, his small, beady eyes darting nervously as he approached.
"Ser Stronghammer," Darin greeted with a low bow. "I did as you asked. The rumors have started to spread. People are beginning to talk about Velaryon."
Robert nodded, satisfied. "Good. We need to ensure that everyone knows where to look when they think of Maelor's death. Now, I need you to do something more."
Darin shifted uneasily. "Anything, my lord."
"You will leave a letter for the Master of Coin, Lord Lannister, suggesting that Velaryon and Maelor were conspiring against the crown. Be discreet. You'll claim you found it while collecting your merchant goods from Velaryon's estate."
Darin's eyes widened. "But, my lord—what if they trace it back to me?"
"They won't," Robert said coldly, his voice brooking no argument. "This letter will be written in Maelor's hand, detailing a plot between him and Velaryon. All you need to do is plant it. Do this, and I'll ensure your debts are cleared."
Darin hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "As you wish, my lord. I'll deliver the letter by nightfall."
Robert watched as Darin hurried off into the city's maze of streets, a sense of satisfaction growing within him. The letter would solidify Velaryon's guilt in the eyes of the small council. It wouldn't be long before they pieced together the "evidence," and Lord Velaryon would be accused of orchestrating Maelor's death.
But Robert wasn't finished yet. His next move would be more personal, aimed directly at the heart of Velaryon's influence—his allies and the lords who supported him.
Later that evening, Robert attended a gathering of nobles, one that included many of Velaryon's closest supporters. They had all gathered in one of the finer halls of the Red Keep, feasting and discussing the latest developments in the city, but Robert had a different agenda.
As he entered the hall, the hum of conversation quieted for a moment. His reputation as the man who had caused a scene with Princess Rhaenyra still lingered, but Robert no longer cared. His focus was on his next move, and these nobles were pawns in his game.
He made his way to the table where Lord Velaryon and his allies sat, nodding politely to the lords and ladies as he passed. Velaryon himself sat with a calm expression, completely unaware of the trap being laid for him.
"Lord Velaryon," Robert greeted, taking a seat across from the man.
Velaryon raised an eyebrow. "Ser Stronghammer."
Robert grinned, allowing the jibe to pass. "My lord. But I wanted to speak with you about something more serious. There have been troubling rumors about the late Maelor's death."
Velaryon's expression darkened. "Rumors? What sort of rumors?"
Robert leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so that only those at the table could hear. "There are whispers, Lord Velaryon, that Maelor was not the true target. Some say that the poison was meant for someone else—someone close to him."
Velaryon's brow furrowed. "Are you suggesting that someone tried to poison me?"
Robert tilted his head, a sly smile playing on his lips. "It's hard to say. But you were seated next to Maelor, were you not? If the poison had been meant for him, why not simply deliver it directly? No, my lord, I believe there is more at play here."
The lords and ladies at the table exchanged uneasy glances. Velaryon shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading.
"I've heard similar rumors," one of Velaryon's allies said cautiously. "There are those who believe Maelor's death was the result of a power struggle."
Robert nodded. "Exactly. And when power struggles arise, people like Maelor—who know too much—often become casualties. I wouldn't be surprised if more revelations came to light in the coming days."
Velaryon's face paled slightly. He had always been careful to avoid direct conflicts, but Robert's words were planting doubt in his mind. The man was starting to question whether he had somehow become entangled in a plot larger than himself.
As the conversation continued, Robert excused himself, content with the seeds he had sown. Velaryon's allies would now be suspicious of him, and it wouldn't take long for the rumors to spread further, fueled by the letter Darin would deliver that night.
By the time the small council met again, Lord Velaryon would be at the center of a web of lies and half-truths, unable to defend himself from accusations that were built on carefully constructed deceptions.
The night was still as Robert sat alone, staring out across the darkened skies from his secret chamber within the Blackstone Legion's base. The whispers and plots against Lord Velaryon were taking root as planned, but his thoughts were not on Corlys Velaryon or the intricacies of court intrigue. No, tonight his mind was elsewhere—on the one thing that made his pulse race and his heart pound in a way nothing else ever had.
Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.
The memory of her danced in his mind, as vivid as the first time he had laid eyes on her. Her silver-gold hair cascading down her back, her violet eyes that could pierce a man's soul, and that regal presence—fierce, confident, and untouchable. Rhaenyra had ignited something in Robert that no other woman ever had. She was fire and strength, everything that made his blood burn and his resolve falter.
But she was a princess, and he was just a knight. Robert knew the game well enough to understand the distance between them. A man like him, no matter how strong, brave, or clever, could never hope to marry the daughter of the king. The idea was absurd. And yet, every time he saw her, every fleeting glance, every exchange of words, made his heart believe that perhaps she felt the same. There were moments—brief, tantalizing moments—where her gaze lingered on him just a little too long, where her smile softened in a way that spoke of more than courtesy.
But it was hopeless, wasn't it? She was too highborn, too far above him. Robert knew that if he wanted Rhaenyra, truly wanted her, there was only one way: he would have to take her, sweep her away from the court, and elope. It was a mad plan, reckless and dangerous, but Robert had never been one to shy away from risk. He would do whatever it took to win her heart—if it wasn't already his.
Yet even that mad dream was threatened now. Word had reached him, whispered to him in confidence by Borros Baratheon, that Laenor Velaryon, the son of Corlys Velaryon, was being proposed as a match for Rhaenyra. The Sea Snake, ever the opportunist, saw this as a way to secure his family's standing and ensure that no trouble would arise from their house regarding Rhaenyra's claim to the throne. Laenor was a well-known name at court, a dashing figure who would be considered a suitable match for the princess.
But Robert couldn't let that happen. The thought of Rhaenyra being bound to Laenor made his blood boil. Laenor was of Valyrian blood, sure, but he was no match for the fire of Rhaenyra. Laenor was a noble by birth, but Robert doubted the man had ever known the kind of grit, determination, or ambition that burned within him. Laenor might have been a fine match on paper, but Robert knew that he was the only one who could stand by Rhaenyra's side in both heart and battle.
The Valeryons' influence was growing too much, too fast. Corlys Velaryon's ambitions to marry his son into the royal family were obvious, and that made Robert's plot against the Velaryons even more urgent. He had to stop this marriage—he had to remove Corlys's grip from King's Landing, not just for the sake of the kingdom, but for Rhaenyra's future. His future.
Robert clenched his fists, the knuckles whitening. He could feel the weight of his desires and his ambition settling into place. This wasn't just about removing Corlys Velaryon from power or curbing his influence. This was personal. This was about keeping Rhaenyra from falling into the hands of another man, a man who didn't deserve her.
As the fire crackled in the hearth beside him, Robert began to formulate his next steps. The rumors were spreading, but it wasn't enough. He needed something more concrete, something to truly cement Corlys as a traitor and unfit to marry into the royal family. Planting evidence would be risky, but if done correctly, it could force Viserys to reconsider his alliance with the Velaryons. The king wouldn't marry his daughter to a family that was suspected of treason.
Robert's thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of the door. Holden Cross stepped into the room, his face unreadable.
"Stronghammer," Holden said, his voice as steady as ever. "The whispers are growing. Lords are starting to distance themselves from Corlys. It's working."
Robert nodded but didn't meet Holden's gaze. His mind was still fixed on Rhaenyra.
"We need more than rumors," Robert said, his voice low but firm. "We need evidence."
Holden tilted his head, intrigued. "Evidence? What are you planning?"
"I'm going to frame Corlys Velaryon for something he can't walk away from," Robert said, his eyes glinting with determination. "Something that will make it impossible for Viserys to marry Rhaenyra to Laenor. If Velaryon falls, that marriage dies with him."
Holden narrowed his eyes. "This isn't just about power, is it? You've got something personal in this."
Robert's jaw tightened. "It's all connected. Velaryon has too much influence, and that marriage would only make it worse. The princess deserves better."
Holden crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "You care for her. That's why you're doing all this."
Robert's silence was enough of an answer.
Holden chuckled darkly. "Well, love and ambition make dangerous bedfellows. But if that's what drives you, so be it. Just make sure you don't get caught in your own web, Stronghammer."
"I won't," Robert said coldly. "I'll make sure of it."
As Holden left the room, Robert stood and walked to the window, staring out into the night. The stars above King's Landing flickered faintly, and in the distance, he could see the faint outline of the Red Keep looming against the sky.
He had to move fast. If Corlys was planning to wed Laenor to Rhaenyra, the arrangements could be made in a matter of months. He didn't have time to wait. He needed to act swiftly, decisively, and without hesitation.
Robert closed his eyes, the image of Rhaenyra filling his mind. She was worth the risk. She was worth everything.
With newfound resolve, Robert turned from the window and began to gather the tools he would need. The game was in motion, and there was no turning back now. He would do whatever it took to bring down the Velaryons, protect Rhaenyra, and claim the future he had dreamed of.
Author's Note:
Enjoying the story?
Consider joining my to get early access to more chapters and exclusive fanfictions! Even as a free member you will get one extra chapter and you'll receive early access to chapters before they're posted elsewhere and various other fanfictions.Your support helps me create more content for you to enjoy!
Join here: (dot)com(slash)Beuwulf