Chapter 22 . Man Vs Dragon and its Mother
Sansa and Myrcella couldn't believe how wrong things had gone. Their perfect little plot had failed, and now King Robert was taken hostage by the pretender Targaryen prince. They didn't even know if the king was alive or not, as Ser Barristan ordered the ship to return to King's Landing right away.
Close to King's Landing, Sansa and Myrcella began to panic. While Sansa was still supposed to return to Winterfell, it was Myrcella who had no clue what Stannis would do to her. Would she be discarded like a bastard born, or would Robert's desire to let her live in the Red Keep be respected?
She feared for Tommen, too.
However, instead of clearing her mind, the incident only made Robert's existence carve a larger place in her heart than before. It was no longer a matter of pleasure but her very existence. No longer could she imagine a life where Robert wasn't there to allow her the luxury she'd lived in her whole life.
"He's not that easy to kill," Myrcella commented, standing on the top deck and looking at King's Landing in the distance. "I read about his battles. I read about what he did in the North. I'm sure he's alive and well, Sansa."
Sullen, Sansa just stood there in silence. She'd slept with the King as she'd planned, and nothing had changed. Instead, the King hated her now. She felt dumb, almost self-loathing. It was a flawed plan from the beginning, she felt. What the hell was she even thinking?
"The North has nothing he wants, nothing that would make me a worthy queen," Sansa murmured, her voice heavy with resignation. "I'll go back to Winterfell, Myrcella."
Myrcella wanted to console her, but she had no plans, no tricks, and no ideas anymore. She was in a difficult spot herself.
"Forgive me, Sansa."
"You didn't force me. I chose this," Sansa said, her voice quieter, steadier—different. "The King was kind to me, and… what happened on the ship will stay between us."
"Of course!" Myrcella agreed. "It's our secret."
Ser Barristan didn't join Sansa and Myrcella.
He couldn't bring himself to simply give up on Robert and return home. It was against his oath, and his duty demanded something else. Unless he saw the King's dead body, he decided to believe the man was still alive.
The best thing about the Golden Company was that they wore shiny armor. Following their tracks was easy, and he journeyed the same river that Robert had done before.
It was hard to pinpoint the location, however, but after asking around, he learned about the location of the Golden Company's main camp. He followed the known route and eventually arrived at the camp a little away from the town of Selhorys.
"W-What happened here?"
When he arrived at the Company's main camp, he stood frozen in shock. The men had fear in their eyes and looked battered. They were amidst packing from the looks of it, silence permeated the camp.
Ser Barristan walked inside and found multiple wide patches of ground soaked in blood. So much blood that the dirt had turned into bloody mud.
"You!" He tried to call out to the nearest man since the entire camp lacked order. Everyone was doing their own thing randomly. "What happened here?"
"Here?" The man, young and covered in light armor, glanced at the red, muddy ground and stumbled back. "D-Demon… That demon killed everyone!"
"Who killed everyone?"
"The hostage! T-The King of Westeros. He killed our men for three nights." The man's face turned horrid as if remembering the carnage. "B-Blood everywhere. He swung, and we fell… thousands… G-Go away before he returns. Go away!"
Ser Barristan didn't know whether to feel proud or scared.King Robert did all that? Ruining the mightiest sellsword company known to the world?
"Where is your commander?" Ser Barristan asked.
"Dead! All are dead. Commander, the vice commander, the Young Griff… all dead. We're leaving, you should too. This place is cursed! I'm done fighting."
What did His Grace do to them? He has no spine left.
"Where did the King go?"
"I-I don't know. H-He wanted to have the head of Young Griff stuffed. Volantis maybe. We're going the opposite direction, towards Braavos," the young sellsword replied and finally ran away.
Ser Barristan walked around and spoke with a few more men to form a general idea of what actually happened. It was hard as most were too scared, and others had no clue because they were lucky enough to be away from the central fighting area.
A few hours later, he left the camp and headed to the nearest town. He now had a general idea of what had transpired. Somehow, King Robert had grown inhumanly stronger, more than he already was, and simply killed his way to victory.
It was hard to imagine, but something told him that it was possible with Robert.
With that man, everything is possible.
Days later, a common merchant ship docked at Meereen.
"HAH! 'Bout damn time I got some proper dirt 'neath me boots!" Robert bellowed, every single word from his mouth coming crass and unrestrained. That was the personality he'd adopted for his next adventure. "C'mon, Jack, find me a good hole to scrap in!"
Robert, standing at six foot six of pure bullish muscle, was easily the odd one out, no matter how large the crowd around him was. But he'd altered his looks a little. He'd ditched the beard he'd cherished for decades, now clean-shaven, his jawbone visible, and especially a small scar on the left side that he didn't even know existed. He'd dyed his hair auburn too, and his clothes were simple breeches, a sleeveless tunic that revealed his mighty muscled arms, thick enough to be a common man's leg, and boots with cloth wrapped around his ankles till the knees, for quick mobility.
He wanted to appear as different from Robert as possible, so he didn't try to find a warhammer. No, he got himself a greatsword in Volantis, and the sword itself was almost six feet long, a weapon of pure menace.
He'd even changed his speech to seem as different from a King as possible.
Of course, Jaqen was now called Jack. As for the white-haired, ex-whore Rhaea, she retained her name, personality, and beauty. Heck, she was a little too beautiful. Robert had to kill five men over the course of his journey to Meereen as they tried to force themselves on the woman.
The good thing about being on a ship was that anyone he killed became fish food.
"The greatest of the pits, the Great Pit of Daznak," Jaqen said, guiding Robert and Rhaea through the press of merchants and slave porters. "A man shall place your name among the fighters. Only those of proven skill are chosen, yet your size may open doors where records do not."
"Bah! Suits me just fine," Robert blurted and kept Rhaea in front of him, behind Jaqen. Her swaying hips gained a lot of attention. "After today's scrap, tell 'em to throw everything they got at me. Let 'em try an' gut me in the arena—dozen men, hundred men, lions, godsdamned dragons if they fancy! I'll carve my name in their skulls, one broken bone at a time."
Rhaea had no clue who or what Robert was, and just hearing his suicidal plans made her worried. "Ned, please be careful. People of Meereen can't be trusted."
"Aye, I know that, lass. Who the hell said anything about trustin' 'em? I'll be rippin' 'em to pieces if they don't fall in line sooner or later!" Robert boasted and eyed the city before him. It was formidable, larger than King's Landing by a great margin. The walls he crossed through were thick and high, studded with bastions and anchored by defensive towers at every angle.
Then there were the massive stepped pyramids. The greatest of them, the Great Pyramid, a sight to behold. It truly looked like a wonder of the world, taller than even the Wall back in the North.
As for the people of the city, he heard a bastardized form of High Valyrian. Though the colorful tokar-wearing men confused him. He knew they were nobles, but what difference the color of their clothes made eluded him.
Not that he cared.
Soon enough, they arrived at the massive fighting pit. By the loud roars coming from the arena, it seemed a fight was already taking place.
"Get me in," Robert demanded.
Jaqen obliged, being a resourceful man of many talents. He went ahead and spoke with someone, showed a coin to that man, and right away, Robert was guided through the Gates of Fate, the entrance to the pit. There were names of fallen fighters engraved at the gate.
No armor, no helmet, just Robert with his great sword walked into the pit. Although the Pitmaster who guided him tried to speak with him, Robert didn't understand the language. The only thing Jaqen had told him was that the last man standing would be the winner. And currently, the pit had 10 men, 1 hungry lion, 1 angered rhino, and 1 massive bull.
Simple enough, it was too easy for Robert.
Like a bull more furious than the real one in the field, Robert ran in with his massive sword up in arms. His size, his muscular arms visible, the mere sight of him was a spice that charged the crowd.
The men and women at the descending tiers of benches roared in excitement. Robert drank in the view for a moment, wondering how many people were there. The bottom seats were the nobles, and the far back in the height were the slaves, that was all he knew.
But he had no grand ambitions of liberating the city or changing their culture. He was the King of Westeros, and he'd long accepted that his duty was only to the Seven Kingdoms. To keep the Kingdoms safe, he was ready to go to any length. Kill, fuck, lie—he no longer held himself back.
Even less so in that disguise of a crass Westerosi giant.
"Haaaaa!"
With no care of the world, Robert pounced at the nearest man and slashed his blade from the top. The armed gladiator was taken by surprise and lost his life—cleaved in half from his head to his cock. As each part of his body fell to their respective sides, the organs spilled out, followed by a gruesome splash of blood.
"Wraaaa!" Robert proved himself to be a feral man. Money's worth for all those who paid to come to the arena that day.
As soon as he made his presence known by his first kill, the remaining nine gladiators became worried. They not only had to fight the animals but now that giant of a man too.
Some tried to group up and deal with Robert.
A big mistake.
Robert merely danced on his feet in a circle, blade held perpendicular to his body. Four heads flew in the air. Then, four bodies landed lifelessly with loud thuds.
Were they slaves? Were they good people? Robert didn't care, for they were not Westerosi.
"Haha!" He laughed menacingly and chased after the last five men left. One after another, he caught them and killed them, but one of them surrendered by throwing his spear.
Robert let the man live and finally focused on the animals.
This was the first time Meereen witnessed a human physically, with his bare arms, brawl with a lion and subdue it. The lion roared and bit into Robert's flesh, only for Robert to force open the feral cat's jaw. Robert then ended it with a chokehold on the lion's neck under his mighty arms.
But he didn't kill the voiceless creature and focused on the rhino instead. Dealing with the running boulder was tough but not impossible. Robert physically lifted the rhino with both arms above his head, a feat far simpler than stopping an elephant's stomp for him.
Coated in blood from head to toe, Robert turned left and right with the rhino still raised above his head.
"Haaaa! Is that all you have?! Disappointing!"
Boom!
Robert threw the rhino into the stone wall at the edge of the arena, not killing it or mortally wounding it.
Finally came the bull, who only took a small punch from Robert and ran away in fright. The simplest of all.
The battle didn't even last an hour.
Robert entered. Dominated the pit and won, making it look easy when every man and woman sitting there knew this performance edged on insanity.
Either they were insane.
Or the new fighter in the pit.
But one thing was certain. The loud cheers didn't stop for the whole 15 minutes.
A month went by, and Robert's fame grew. Many Great Masters tried to buy Robert from Jaqen, but it was easily made clear that Robert was no slave. In Jaqen's own words, 'Can you even enslave him?'
It wasn't easy for the Pitmaster either. Finding a challenge for Robert was proving to be a greater challenge than anything Robert faced. They'd already made Robert fight ten elephants, thirty lions, and one hundred top warriors of all of Meereen's pits.
Each time, Robert won.
Now, the pitmaster had no idea what to do with Robert. The crowd loved the display, no doubt. They also made a lot of money. But Robert kept demanding greater challenges for himself or threatening to leave.
But just when Robert was on the verge of losing patience, panic swept the city, and all fighting pits stopped their schedules. Word spread that an army of Unsullied stood outside the city walls, demanding the city's surrender.
Following Jaqen, Robert went to the city wall where the Great Masters sat and watched the Unsullied army and laughed, feeling safe in their city. But Robert's focus was on the army and that bright spot among the dark armor, long ashen hair, pale skin, and blue garb. No doubt, it was Daenerys Targaryen.
She's short.Robert muttered and looked around.Where are the dragons?
Soon enough, he saw a man from the city go out and take a piss in the direction of the invading army. But soon enough, the laughter vanished from the Great Masters' faces as the man was slain by one of Daenerys' men.
"Who is he?" Robert asked.
Jaqen beside him knew everything. "A man is Daario Naharis. Once a lieutenant of the Second Sons until he slew his own commanders and took their place. Now, he serves Daenerys."
"Interesting." Robert eyed the man with keen interest, his palm itchy.
Just then, Daenerys' feminine, loud voice started to echo. But the language she spoke was unknown to Robert. "Daenerys jalma…"
"What is she saying now?" Robert asked.
Jaqen translated, albeit in his own speech style. "A girl is called Daenerys Stormborn. Perhaps the masters have whispered lies, or perhaps they have spoken nothing at all. It is no matter. A girl does not speak to them. A girl speaks to you.
"First, there was Astapor. Those once bound in chains now walk free behind me. Then came Yunkai. Those once enslaved now stand as free men. Now, a girl stands before Meereen.
"A girl is no enemy. The enemy stands beside you. The enemy takes your children, your lives, and gives only suffering in return. A girl does not bring commands—only a choice. And to your enemy, a girl brings what is owed. Forward."
Robert dumbly stared at Jaqen. "Ah, I see what ye're gettin' at—lost me halfway, but I caught the stink of it. She wants the slaves to rise up, throw off their chains, all that shite. Brilliant plan… 'cept fer one tiny problem. These poor bastards been raised since birth to lick boots an' jump when told. No clue how to wipe their own arses without a master's say-so. Ye dump 'em into freedom without a plan, an' they'll starve faster than a noble in a fistfight."
"A man agrees," Jaqen said. "Today, a girl triumphs. Tomorrow, she stumbles."
Boom!
Right then, the catapults launched wooden crates at the city. One of them fell close by and shattered, sprinkling unlocked slave collars all over, proof for the slaves of the city that what she said was real.
Robert already knew how Daenerys' campaign was going to end.
"I'm sick o' this shite. Goin' back to Rhaea to break the bed." Robert grunted, already turning to leave. "Find me when the pits are bleedin' open again."
However, right then, the richest man in the city blocked Robert's path, and beside him stood a few other rich nobles.
"We ask only that you defend this city. Is this not the test of skill you crave? An army stands before you, waiting to be broken." Hizdahr zo Loraq proposed. "You will be well rewarded—gold, weighed for every man who falls by your hand."
Robert waved his hand dismissively. "Not interested."
"Wait! I'll give you one of the pyramids too! You'll become a noble, a Great Master!"
Robert's brows shot up for a moment. This was honestly a fine offer. If he weren't the King of Westeros already, he'd have accepted that in a heartbeat.
"Hell no. I want a proper bloodbath, not this piss-scented politickin'. Your city's done for anyway. I'll find another place to bash skulls—heard Yi-ti's got a bit of spice. Come on, Jack, let's get outta here."
That level of unashamed, direct retort was rare for the Great Masters of Meereen. But what could they do before a man who ripped apart a man-eating lion with his bare hands?
They watched the Westerosi madman leave.
As expected, the bloodbath happened. The slaves took over the city.
Robert didn't leave his lodging that night, pounding the beauty that had accompanied him all that time. Shifting her insides with his greedy, girthy shaft, he'd never heard a single complaint from her. Rather, she looked forward to their nightly activities.
Her own life had improved greatly. Coin, clothes, and rest, she received it all plenty. The future looked nothing but bright.
But the next day, even after the city was taken over by Daenerys and her forces, the fighting pits didn't open. Then, on the second day, he finally ventured out and found out what the white-haired throne chaser had done. She'd crucified over a hundred nobles of the city in retaliation for what they did to slaves.
That wasn't a good sign for him. Daenerys had no idea how to hold back and tread carefully. Instead of first focusing on establishing herself in the city, she decided to anger all the nobles at the same time.
There were going to be repercussions. It was expected. After all, he and Robert had rebelled against the Mad King because of his murderous tendencies. To smallfolk, the lords were rulers and, to many, abusers. That didn't mean the King could simply kill the lords and make the smallfolk happy.
It was clear. Daenerys had no idea about the difference between a noble, a royal, and a smallfolk. In this case, slaves.
On the fourth day, Robert got what he was waiting for. A direct summon from Daenerys Targaryen. Everything he'd done in the city all that time was for this. Becoming so famous that every mouth remembered his name was a goal that had been achieved days ago.
Demon Of Meereen, the Undefeatable, the God's Champion—the nicknames given to him were plenty. On top of that, he'd earned a bit of a soft spot from slaves as he spent most of his earnings feeding slave children too small to earn for themselves.
All of that bore him fruit, finally.
He followed the four Unsullied, who came to escort him to the Great Pyramid, where Daenerys had established herself. He didn't bring any weapon with him, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. Though his clothes didn't help, his sleeveless tunic still revealed his mighty arms. But he didn't worry as he looked quite handsome even without his beard.
The climb up the stairs of the pyramid was a chore. Even before him, the Unsullied got tired. But eventually, they arrived at the top and headed towards the throne room.
Already, Robert could hear an exchange going on inside, and he recognized the man's accented voice. It belonged to Hizdahr zo Loraq.
"...My father, one of Meereen's respected and beloved citizens, oversaw the restoration and maintenance of its greatest landmarks. This pyramid included."
"For that, he has my gratitude. I should be honored to meet him."
Robert laughed inside. He could hear the contempt and ridicule in Daenerys' voice.
"You have, Your Grace. You crucified him. I pray you'll never live to see a member of your family treated so cruelly."
Seven Hells, I didn't see that coming.Robert held himself back from chuckling, imagining Daenerys' face falling.
"Your father crucified innocent children."
"My father spoke out against crucifying those children. He decried it as a criminal act but was overruled. Is it justice to answer one crime with another?"
Robert nodded in silence.The man said it right.
"I'm sorry you no longer have a father, but my treatment of the masters was no crime. You'd be wise to remember that."
Robert frowned deeply, hearing that. That sounded like the Mad King. Incapable of accepting one's own mistake and forcing the other side to heel. If the man's father was truly one of the good ones, then his crucifixion was unjust, simple.
What in the Seven Hells is this? Another Mad King in the making? I meant to judge if she's fit for the throne... but now, I wonder if she's even fit to draw breath. And with three dragons, no less. Madness.
With more focus, he heard the exchange go on.
"...Your Grace, I ask that you order these men taken down so that they might receive proper burials."
"And what of the slave children these noble Meereenese crucified?"
Robert shook his head.She's got no bloody idea how to rule even a single city. What does she think she'll gain by going up against all the nobles?
"...Bury your father, Hizdahr zo Loraq."
"Thank you, my Queen."
Quickly, the man left, and Robert ushered into the throne room. He saw it for the first time, so he had no clues about it. High ceiling room with tiles and walls of purple marble. Then, there she was on a plain ebony bench, many steps above the floor.
Though Robert held no special interest in white-haired women. No, his eyes instead landed on the slender, dusky woman with curly brown hair. But more than anything, her beautiful eyes captivated him, colored like molten gold. She was definitely a beauty, her form-fitting gown and that tight belt around her waist hinted at that.
"What can I do for you?"
"Eh?!" Robert grunted, squinting at Daenerys. "Do fer me? The hell's that s'posed to mean? I ain't the one doin' the askin' here, lass. Yer tin-can eunuchs draggedmein."
Daenerys' brows rose in shock and amusement. Even the strongest of men, when standing in a monarch's palace, showed some respect and fear. Yet here, this tall man refused to even greet her first.
But before she could speak, Ser Jorah, standing beside her, leaned down and whispered into her ears. "Your Grace, he's the man the rumors spoke of."
"You're Ned? The Demon of Meereen?" Daenerys asked him. "You're from Westeros?"
"Aye, I am—or was, rather. Mum and Dad were done in by those damn squids; bastards dragged me off. I ran, and got caught by Volantis' slavers. Killed the lot of 'em and became my own bloody man." Robert grinned, arms crossed. "Heard you've got dragons, eh? Reckon I could have a go at one of 'em? Bit of a challenge, you know."
Daenerys chuckled. "You wish to fight my dragons?"
"Why the hell not? I've taken down ten bloody elephants! The pitmasters've been scrambling, tryin' to find me somethin' to put up a fight for days!" Robert replied and focused back on the dusky-skinned woman standing not far from him. Her face reflected a sort of innocence, but he knew it was false.
It was with intent. There was no way to get close to Daenerys right away. But getting close to one of her trusted handmaidens was a different thing entirely.
Daenerys stood up from her throne and followed Robert's gaze. "Aren't you overconfident?"
"I ain't gonna know 'til someone kicks my ass!" Robert answered. "And trust me, only your dragon can… possibly."
This was the most interesting and peculiar man Daenerys had met in her life. Some desired to fly on the back of a dragon. Some desired to sleep with the Mother of Dragons. This was the first time a madman wanted to fight the dragons.
"What if you're lying? What if the rumors are just rumors?" Daenerys asked, and walked down the steps, eventually standing beside Missandei. "Why should I entertain you?"
"Then don't." Robert shrugged. "I'm headin' East anyway, lookin' fer a real fight, not some poncy chair-measuring contest. Speakin' of, that throne o' yers—heard it's just a pile o' rusty pig-stickers. Sounds like sittin' on a damned bear trap. Bah! Nobles an' their stupid arses."
Daenerys couldn't tell half of the things Robert was saying, but it was easy to guess. Somehow, despite his offensive words, they only mused her. Her interaction with the people of Westeros was limited, so this was a fine addition.
"I will permit it," she said, her voice firm. "You may face one of my dragons in battle. But when you lose—and if you still draw breath—you will serve in my army."
"Eh…" Robert frowned and rubbed his chin. However, his eyes remained focused on the dusky woman the whole time. This was new even for Daenerys, as most men only ever sang of her beauty. "Works for me, but if I win, the girl is mine."
Daenerys glanced at Missandei and then back at Robert. "She's not for sale! Nor is she a slave!"
"What? Slave? When in the piss-soaked hells did I say I'dbuyher? I just fancy her and want a roll in the hay! Slave?" Robert hawked up a gob and spat on the side. "You could split every gods-damned slaver from gut to gizzard in here, and I'd still sleep like a babe."
Daenerys shook her head, her voice firm. "Missandei is no whore for you to claim."
"Ain't said either, lass! You pay a whore fer that, but I ain't plannin' on it here!" Robert glanced at the Missandei and smiled. Aye, he was a fine-looking warrior, tough as a mountain. "Let me rephrase, then. I'll defeat a dragon fer ya, and if I come out on top, I'll be wantin' a proper reward. A bedroll and yer company, aye?"
"No! I won—"
Just as Daenerys was about to retort, Missandei stepped forward, summoning an expression of confidence. She looked up at Robert's face and measured him as a man. He was no eye-sore, no woman could ever claim that.
Then, Missandei nodded her head. "I'll wager."
"Missandei, no!" Daenerys shook her shoulder.
"No one can stand against a dragon, Your Grace." Missandei turned to Daenerys, her voice calm but firm. "Let him try if he must. He is a fool, and fools meet their end soon enough."
Robert didn't retort and just smiled. He didn't know how tough it was going to be, but he had no fears.
Eventually, Daenerys sighed and glared at Robert. There was no reason to even entertain such a man. But somewhere in her heart, she wished that the rumors were true so she could better her chances of victory with his help.
"Very well. You shall fight Drogon in two days."
Two days later, the Great Pit of Daznak was guarded all around. The Great Masters and nobles weren't allowed inside, but many ex-slaves were allowed to watch the greatest battle in history.
With Targaryen sigils everywhere, Daenerys arrived, guiding her bonded dragon, Drogon. Robert found the name funny and unoriginal; the poor thing was one letter away from being named after its own species.
He had come prepared that day with light armor. He didn't bring a spear and instead chose a blacksmith's hammer as the weapon of choice. Mortally wounding the dragon wasn't a part of his plan. Not yet.
It's big.
But after seeing the thing in real life, he wondered if getting a warhammer was more logical.
Only one strike.
No words were exchanged. Daenerys just left her dragon in the middle of the field and moved to a safe distance.
Then, Robert stared at the fire-breathing lizard, and the thing did the same to him. As if a silent understanding developed between them that they were to fight. As Robert walked closer, the dragon did the same.
It's gigantic.From close-up, Robert felt even more shocked.The fire will be an issue.
Finally, Robert began running. He was fast for his body size, much faster than one would expect from him.
"Graaa!" Drogon roared as if to warn.
But Robert continued to run.
Wooosh!
Drogon blew air. But Robert quickly dived forward onto the dirt and let the momentum carry him, sliding until he reached underneath the dragon's body.
"There we go!"
Being the most vulnerable part of the dragon, Robert attacked the underbelly with his hammer. There were no thick scales to protect the internals, so he went full force from the very first strike.
Crunch!
As soon as his hammer connected, he heard the breaking of some bone or perhaps rupturing some organs.
"Graaaa!"
The dragon writhed and tried to move aside, away from the attacker underneath.
Crunch!
Robert went hard and fast with his strikes. He followed wherever the dragon shifted. But in the end, it was an intelligent creature.
"Fuck!"
Just as Drogon tried to sit down and crush him, he dived away into the clearance.
But it was a big mistake. Drogon had prepared for it. And this time, Robert could do nothing. The massive dragon's tail came flying at him like a whip and connected square in his chest.
Boom!
Robert was thrown in the air like a ragdoll and went rolling backward all the way to the edge, finally stopping when he hit the wall where a small weapon's rack was placed.
Elephants and dragons have no comparison. Seven Hells!
He quickly jumped to his feet and spat a mouth full of blood. He looked at his body and noticed a lot of bruises all over, a few spots bleeding.
"Come on!" He taunted.
Drogon came thumping, his massive jaws open to spew fire on Robert. There was no place to jump anymore with a wall behind him.
"Wraaaaa!"
The fire came like a torrent and blasted across the wall where Robert stood. The dust flew, and the fire grew and covered everything. Roberts' demise seemed all but certain.
"You fell for it!"
Robert's roar echoed amidst the spewing fire. From the fire, his figure jumped out, a small metal shield covering him from the blaze.
Right in front of everyone's eyes, Robert landed on Drogon's head, and then, the hammer came down, striking.
Bam!
It was loud and metallic, with a crunch of a bone.
The hammer connected, and the dragon instantly stopped spewing fire. Its eyes rolled back, and in a flash, it collapsed to the ground, falling unconscious.
"Haaaa!" Robert roared in victory.
The fight barely lasted minutes, but Robert was already out of breath, and the injury from the dragon's tail was immense. He could feel something was wrong inside his body. Ribs, lungs, something had gone wrong for sure.
Seven Hells… I'm still not strong enough.
Thud!
And with that, Robert also collapsed right on top of Drogon's unconscious head.
The next day, Robert woke up feeling as refreshed as ever. With no sign of an injury, he moved his body parts one after another to make sure. The last thing he remembered was leaving the dragon unconscious and himself roaring at the people on top of its head.
But then he fell to exhaustion. What happened after that was gods' guess. Daenerys could have killed him for sure, but it seemed his guess was right. After seeing his strength, she wanted him more than ever.
His surroundings confirmed it. From the window, he could tell he was at great height, meaning he was inside the Great Pyramid. The room appeared quite luxurious, with a large canopied bed, a dining table, a study table, flower pots, and all sorts of carpets and golden utensils sprinkled around.
But it soon became clear that he'd been asleep for more than just a day. It was already sunset outside, mere minutes away from total darkness. His own room had burning torches already.
Knock! Knock!
He stood up from the bed and looked down. He only had loose breeches on his legs while his upper body lay naked, bandaged from a few spots.
"Enter."
The door slid open, and walked in just the woman he needed. Missandei of Naath, the dusky beauty that he'd planned on bedding that night as per the bet. But he wasn't one to force it either.
"Lord Ned, I have come to tend to your wounds," Missandei said softly, setting aside the tools she carried. "Please, lie down."
"Lord?"
"Queen Daenerys has deemed you a Lord for your bravery and strength," Missandei revealed and meekly approached his tall, standing frame. She had to look up to see his face, and standing before his wide frame, she felt fully eclipsed. "Please, lie down."
Robert looked down, noticing how her gaze tried to avoid his, and rather glanced at his muscled chest with a hint of masculine hair. "Tendin' to cuts and bruises? That can bloody well wait! I've got somethin' far more interestin' on me mind!"
Missandei gulped audibly and looked down from his face. "I…"
Robert placed an index finger and thumb under her chin and raised her face up. Looking into her eyes with a hint of possessiveness, the look of a man who wanted to claim his prize.
"Don't be hidin' that sweet face o' yours, Missandei. A sin so big, even the gods'd be up in arms!" Robert complimented her and went ahead with his next plan.
He pulled her waist closer with his other hand and landed a kiss on her plump, glossy lips.
Missandei didn't back away, nor did she dive head-first into his desire. Her eyes simply widened in surprise, but she allowed him to kiss her tightly closed lips. Her hands dropped the wooden bowl of ointment she was carrying onto the floor, innocent and unaware as she stood rigidly looking up at his tall frame.
As an ex-slave, she had her fair share of men eyeing her, touching her inappropriately, even asking her reluctant master for a price; but never one this brutish and straightforward. She allowed him to glide his hand over her hip, his tongue dancing over her lips.
"Umm.." She whimpered slightly. But not from fear. She didn't resist his persuasive fingers and thumb that gently caressed her chin. Her body simply reacted to the heat of his tongue.
Robert pried her lips open with his tongue and drilled in without a care. He kissed her fiercely, biting into lips slightly, sucking on her boneless flesh with hunger. With mouths wide and slurping tongues, he tasted the liquid courage she had gulped down before. Plundering her small mouth with the greed of a wolf in heat.
A primal need surged through him, wild and uncontrollable. He swallowed her gasp, his tongue sliding between her parted lips, tasting, claiming, devouring. His tongue dominated her own, and his wide palm pulled her in until there was no space left between them. A sharp growl rumbled from his chest as he slid his hands to her slender back, desperate to feel more of her and open up her shy gates.
He looked straight at her, his breath heavy, drinking in the shock on her face, the way her golden eyes widened. His greed thundered as his hands traced her curves, exploring the soft, velvety touch.
With a sharp crack, the metal belt at her waist snapped under his grip, discarded without a second thought.
His mouth found her neck, licking, biting, trailing down to her trembling shoulder as his hands slid lower, fingers splaying over the roundness of her beautifully formed ass. He squeezed, pulling her against him even more, feeling every intoxicating inch of her softness, every shiver that ran through her body. With her body pressed so close, her scent, her warmth, her very presence set him ablaze, making him crave more. So much more.
"Don't mind me if I'm a little too rough… it's just how I am." He grabbed the thin fabric of her blue, sleeveless gown and ripped it apart with a single, brutal pull. The delicate material gave way easily, falling to the floor, leaving her completely bare before him.
He took in the sight of her flawless, golden brown skin glowing in the dim light, curves that begged to be claimed, nipples already tight and waiting for his mouth. A low, hungry growl rumbled in his chest as he reached out, his rough hands seizing her honey-soft breasts, squeezing, kneading, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.
His thumb brushed over her already hardened peak. He rolled her stiff tips between his fingers, pinching, twisting, making her moan under her breath. At the same time, his other hand kept her glued to his body.
"Umh…" Missandei let out a confused and hesitant sound, a tingle already crawling in her core. Her blushing face looked away, but her body couldn't help responding.
Robert's lips curled into a wicked smirk before he leaned in, dragging his tongue over one taut nipple, teasing, tasting. Then, without warning, he latched on, sucking hard, greedy, and relentless, his teeth grazing over the sensitive bud just to hear her gasp. His other hand traveled lower, gripping her round ass, kneading it roughly as he pressed her back against the wall, trapping her. The way she trembled under his hands only made his cock throb harder.
He kept his mouth on her tits, sucking greedily, his teeth grazing her nipples before his tongue soothed the sting, making her body twitch against him. His lips trailed lower, leaving a hot, wet path down her stomach as he dropped to his knees.
His hands slid to her hips, fingers digging into her skin as he kissed just above her pussy, slow and teasing. Then, without hesitation, he pulled one of her legs over his shoulder and buried his face between her thighs. His tongue dragged a long, filthy lick over her bare slit, tasting her, savoring her.
This was new to her. By no means was she a virgin, but to lick her down there, a woman of lowly origin. Her owner before would have never tried that.
Missandei sucked in a sharp breath as she clenched her eyes shut, her body stiffening, her mind screaming at her to stay in control. This wasn't about pleasure; she was here because of duty, because of the bet. It was supposed to be just a role she had to play. And yet, the heat of his mouth and the way his tongue flicked over her sensitive nub of pleasure sent electric sparks shooting through her veins, making it harder to pretend she didn't feel anything.
And yet her thighs quivered, her hands twitching at her sides as his tongue worked her with a wicked, steady rhythm. She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back any sound, any reaction, but the slow drag of his tongue against her bundle of nerves sent a traitorous throb of lust through her.
"Ha~" She pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to react, but a shaky exhale slipped out as he sucked her clit into his mouth, his fingers digging into her ass to pull her closer. The tension inside her grew, a slow, burning ache she couldn't entirely deny.
She told herself it was just her body, just a physical reaction, but as his tongue stroked her with a perfect, sinful rhythm, a dangerous thought crept into her mind. Maybe letting herself feel it wouldn't be so bad. Just this once.
Robert shoved his face between her thighs, feasting on her without restraint, his tongue working her pussy with obscene hunger.
Wet, messy sounds filled the room as he licked, sucked, and fucked her with his mouth, his fingers digging into her ass to keep her exactly where he wanted. Her slickness coated his lips, his chin, and still, he didn't stop, flicking his tongue over her clit, then dragging it down to plunge deep into her heat before moving back up again.
The sounds were shameless; sloppy, messy, his spit mixing with her arousal as he feasted on her without restraint. His nose brushed against her swollen clit with every deep stroke of his tongue.
This was absolutely beneath the status of a King. But not beneath the brute of a man that he was, called Ned.
Missandei's thighs trembled, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. She was dripping, soaking his face, her body quivering on the brink of release, but just as the pleasure coiled tight in her belly, just as she was about to tip over the edge, he stopped!
"Nooh~" A low, desperate whimper escaped her lips before she could swallow it down, but Robert only smirked.
His chin glistened with her arousal as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood up, grabbing her waist roughly and flipping her onto the bed with one firm fling, forcing her down onto her chest.
Missandei's breath hitched as she felt the cool sheets against her flushed skin, her ass now raised, exposed, glistening from his earlier torment. She barely had time to register the position before she heard the rustle of fabric behind her, the sound of him disrobing.
A moment later, the heat of his body pressed against her back, his bare chest flush against her dusky skin, his weight pinning her down, sinking into the bed.
"Ahh!" She gasped as she felt his hot, thick, immense cock, slide between her soaked asscheeks, the blunt swollen head grinding against her slick petals, not quite pushing in, but teasing, tormenting her.
The contrast of his thick, pulsing cockhead against her dripping entrance sent a fresh wave of unwanted thirst through her, making her fingers clench into the sheets.
Robert rocked his hips slowly, dragging his cockhead through her slickness, the swollen tip nudging against her clit, making her body jolt. His hands gripped her waist tighter, holding her still as he took his time, savoring the way her nimble body responded to him; even if she wouldn't admit it.
Already losing himself to hunger, Robert didn't waste another second. It was time for him to enjoy his main course.
With one firm thrust, he speared into her, stretching her wide around his thick cock, forcing a strangled gasp from her lips as he filled her tight, wet hole. No hesitation, no mercy. He set a brutal, punishing pace, his hips slamming against her ass, each thrust driving her deeper into the bedding.
"Umh… Ah!" Missandei gasped, her body jolting with every thrust, her face pressed into the bedding, breath coming in ragged pants. At first, she had tried to resist, tried to hold on to some sliver of control, but the way he filled her, so thick, so deep, shattered her composure piece by piece. Pain and pleasure drowned her completely.
Every time he drilled into her, the pleasure struck like lightning onto her cervix, raw and undeniable, melting away the last traces of hesitation. She was drowning in it now, in him, in the way his cock stretched her, owned her, compelled her body to surrender even before her mind did.
Robert wouldn't let her hide from this. With fingers tangled in her hair, he pulled her head back, forcing her arching spine into a perfect curve. His lips crashed onto hers, teeth grazing, tongue plunging deep, swallowing her moans as he kept up his relentless rhythm, pounding into her so hard the bed frame shook beneath them.
Missandei moaned into his mouth, her tongue tangling with his, tasting him, letting him take whatever he wanted because, now, she wanted it too. The pleasure was overwhelming, but he wasn't done with her yet.
He wouldn't stop, not until he'd wrung every last bit of resistance from her.
Robert shifted, fully pressing his weight over her, his chest against her sweating back as he snaked an arm under her neck, locking it tight around her throat. He squeezed just enough to make her gasp, to make her body shudder under him.
"Let me hear it," he growled against her ear, his breath hot, his cock still driving into her soaked cunt with brutal force. His free hand reached forward, fingers prying at her lips, forcing them apart as he shoved two fingers into her mouth, parting her lips open.
"Ooh~ ahh ahh Ggahhhdd! Yash! Fcchh..!" A broken, desperate sound escaped her as his fingers pried her lips open. Her tongue swirled over his fingers, sloppily making lewd sounds.
Every thrust pushed her closer to madness, her walls clenching, convulsing around him as she came, body trembling violently beneath him. Her pussy gripped around his savage cock, the rough friction sending shockwaves through her entire body.
It was too much, too good. The pleasure built fast, hot, unstoppable. Her body betrayed her completely, chasing it, craving more, her hips rolling back to meet his brutal thrusts.
"Fchss… Yashhhh!" She came hard, a sharp cry muffled by his fingers, her walls spasming, her thighs shaking. This was no longer her reserved self. This was her arousal in control of her mind.
Robert didn't let up, not even for a second. He fucked her through it, pushed her into another climax, and another, until she was nothing but a panting, moaning mess beneath him, lost in the overwhelming ecstasy of being utterly, thoroughly ruined.
He weighed into her hard; his pace was ruthless, his cock plunging deep, stretching her tight, soaked cunt over and over until she was quivering beneath him. He felt it every time she came, how her walls clenched and fluttered around him, her moans turning to sharp, broken cries as he coerced her through another orgasm.
Uncaring of the mess between him and her ass, he kept her trapped under his weight, his arm still snug around her throat, feeling her pulse hammer wildly against his skin. Every time she gasped for air, every time her slick, dribbling pussy squeezed around him in desperate aftershocks, he only fucked her harder.
He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and snaked them beneath her, finding her swollen, overstimulated clit, rubbing it in tight, merciless circles.
The second she tried to twist away, tried to escape the unbearable pleasure, he held her down, pressing her deeper into the mattress. "No, you're not done yet."
Missandei could barely even respond now; her moans had turned to incoherent whimpers, her body writhing under him, completely at his mercy. Her legs trembled, her slick dripping down her thighs, making an absolute mess of the sheets beneath them.
"Ahhh~!" Another orgasm ripped through her, her voice breaking as her walls spasmed around him again, sucking him in, milking his cock so perfectly it made him groan.
Robert knew she couldn't take much more, her mind was slipping into pure sensation, but fuck if he cared. He wanted her to remember this night and sing tales about it to the Mother of Dragons. He wanted to watch her come undone over and over until she couldn't even form words, just a moaning, shuddering mess.
His own release was creeping up on him now, burning at the base of his spine, coiling tighter with every relentless thrust. He clenched his jaw, breathing hard, knowing he had to finish the way he wanted.
Without warning, he pulled out. His cock was slick and throbbing, and grabbed her roughly by the waist, dragging her off the bed.
Missandei gasped, barely able to catch herself as he pushed her onto her knees. Her hair was an absolute mess, damp with sweat, strands sticking to her flushed skin, but Robert only smirked as he tangled his fingers in it and yanked her head back.
"Open," he ordered, his voice rough. When she hesitated, still dazed from everything he had done to her, he pressed the leaking tip of his cock against her lips, smearing them with his arousal.
"Now!"
Her lips parted, and that was all he needed.
He shoved himself inside, groaning as the tight heat of her throat enveloped him. No slow build-up, no teasing. He went straight in, his grip on her hair holding her in place as he thrust deep, his cock pushing past her pink tongue, hitting the back of her throat in one sharp movement.
Missandei gagged, her throat vibrating around him.
He fucked her mouth like he had fucked her pussy. Her nose pressed into his pubes with every thrust, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, her nails digging into his thighs as she struggled to take him and yet accepted him.
"Ghk ghk ghk!" The wet, filthy sounds of her throat stretching around him, of spit dripping down her chin, only made him lose himself more.
Robert's breath hitched. He felt her lips tighten around him, her tongue instinctively swirling against the sensitive tip, and it sent another shudder through him. His thick veins tightened as hot, viscous ropes spilled onto her tongue, coating it in his release. Each throb sent another surge, warm and heavy, pooling in her mouth as his body tensed, muscles locked in the raw intensity.
He felt his orgasm surge forward, his hips snapping one last time before he groaned deep, spilling down her throat, holding her there as she gagged around the thick, hot release. He didn't let her go immediately. He kept her there, made her swallow every drop, feeling her throat convulse around him as she choked it all down.
Finally, he pulled out, watching with satisfaction as she gasped for air, her lips swollen and glossy with spit and cum, long stretching strands of mess still lingering from her lip to his cockhead.
But he wasn't done with her yet, not even close. He grabbed her by the waist again and tossed her back onto the bed, flipping her onto her back this time.
Missandei barely had a second to catch her breath before he climbed on top of her, spreading her legs wide and placing his now flaccid length against her sopping entrance.
He leaned in close to her spent face, "I'll be up again, don't ye fret—night's long, and so's me stamina!"
"What?" Missandei exclaimed with a gasp. "I…I…"
"I thank you." Robert declared and bit her nipples. "You're amazing!"
However, in his mind, there was only one thought. The sole reason why he dared to go so rough and callous on Missandei.
If Daenerys wants me, she better kneel herself. I'll see for myself if the madness still lives on inside.