GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag 24 - The Final Answer

War God of Essos, a name that made Robert recoil in cringe. But that was the name those Unsullieds gave him as he led a small contingent of them out of Meereen. He was the general of one thousand Unsullied soldiers that Daenerys sent to recapture Yunkai and Astapor. 

Normally, one thousand men was a rather low number. Pitiful even. But with Robert there, the ratio of men didn't matter. He was all of it, a soldier, an army, a siege engine. 

"Aye, ye didn’t have to haul yer pretty self along," Robert warned the beauty from Naath, Missandei. "I may be dressed like a peddler, but there’s still a fight to be had, an’ I’ll be knee-deep in the bloody thick of it."

The plan was simple. Robert was going to enter the city as a merchant and then open the gates from inside when the Unsullied army would arrive. However, Missandei was sent with him with the excuse that he couldn't speak the language. 

Robert saw it differently. Daenerys sent her to keep an eye on him and to ensure that he fulfilled his end of the deal. However, Missandei and Daenerys most certainly knew that if Robert were to discard them and leave, there was nothing they could do to stop him. 

That was why the hope was pinned on Missandei's charm. That Robert still held enough interest in her to play along with their plan. 

Missandei looked up at his face, standing right beside him, shoulders touching, on the ship's deck as they approached the Astapor. 

Mentally, Missandei was a changed woman. After spending nights with Robert, she'd felt sexually different. He wasn't the first man, but he was certainly the first to bother with her pleasure. Even more bewildering, he comforted her after their nights of pleasure. However, she didn't care about that. 

It was Robert's existence that changed her. She had come to believe that Daenerys was chosen by the gods, or perhaps she was a goddess herself. How else could someone hatch three dragons and call them their children?

Then came Robert and shattered every idea of reality she had built. From a slave to a follower of Daenerys to whatever she was now. When Robert knocked out a dragon, she felt a crack in her mind. 

How vast was the world. She once believed that Daenerys was invincible. But when Drogon fell, for the first time, she saw absolute horror on Daenerys's face. 

And now here she was, standing beside a man who could break her in half like a twig, yet there was comfort beside him. An innate belief that he wouldn't hurt her as long as she didn't stand against him. 

There was far more intelligence in those eyes than what Robert's mouth hinted at. 

"Not all Unsullied speak the common tongue, My Lord. I was sent as a translator." 

"Really?" Robert smirked and wrapped an arm around her soft, curvy, tall waist. He pulled her in, knowing well the men on the ship felt envy because of his actions. "And what if I be needin’ more than just yer tongue fer words, eh?"

"I am here to serve as you require, My Lord," Missandei replied without even a breath wasted. 

Robert smirked and lowered his hand from the small of her back to her ass, giving soft caresses—a perfect guise for a lecherous merchant with a beautiful slave on a trip to make money. 

But by now, he didn't know what part of this Robert persona was fake and what part was real. Rather, he did relish the bodily pleasures he received. The only difference was that he didn't drink and whore around like the man that was once Robert Baratheon. 

"Tell me, lass. What'd ye've done if Daenerys'd never hauled yer sorry arse outta the muck?"

Missandei gulped, feeling so many eyes on her. She felt Robert's wide, significant palm, rough, heavy, his large fingers spread as he easily fondled most of her right rump. "I… I would have died serving my master."

"Hah! And now ye’ll die servin’ yet another master." Robert mocked with intent.

"Her Grace freed me. I’m no longer a slave."

"Bah! Ye think tradin’ masters makes a beast any less yoked? A horse’s lot don’t change just 'cause some other bastard’s holdin’ the reins. Freedom ain’t some pretty bauble gifted by soft hands—it’s seized, with blood an’ steel!" Robert replied and stopped touching her. "Ye’re just a hound swapin’ kennels, still lickin’ the boot of yet another lord."

Listening to him, Missandei kept her lips tightly shut. 

"Ha! Ye think yer life’s in yer own grubby hands? Not a chance, lass. Ye dance on the strings of yer master’s wits, an’ the moment yer precious queen bollocks it up an’ gets herself skewered, ye’ll be next on the chopping block. That’s the price o’ lickin’ noble boots—givin’ up yer own damn fate fer theirs."

Missandei's mind wandered off to the many men and followers who had died over the journey. She'd heard stories, too, of previous followers of Daenerys. She was scared, of course, but Daenerys was just, kind, and strong. She believed in her. 

But as she glanced at Robert's face again. She didn't feel certain anymore. What if there are more monsters like Robert out there? 

After all, at the end of the day, Daenerys remained a common creature of flesh and bones. Only Dragons made her special. 

"What would you have had me do, My Lord?"

"Nothing, lass. We ain't cut from the same cloth. I can't stomach bowin' to anyone, nor servin' another. But you, well, ye seem to fancy servin'. Not that I'd mind that in the bedchamber, mind ye, but out here? Bah! That's downright vile!"

Robert moved away as the ship began to approach the docks. 

Some time later, Robert deboarded the ship and entered the city of Astapor. While the port area was bustling with activity, the reality was more visible as he entered further in. Slaves were everywhere, and almost all of them had bruises over their bodies. The ground still had traces of blood in some parts. 

"We'll find a nice place to stay until the Unsullied arrive," Robert declared and led Missandei to a nice part of the town. Thanks to Daenerys' generous donation to his campaign, he had a lot of coin to spend. 

Nobody stopped them there. Missandei spoke for Robert each time while he acted all high and annoyed. As the night approached, they had a lavish lodging rented in an upscale inn. Of course, Robert kept Missandei with him. 

A little too close perhaps, as once the night fell, loud moans echoed from that particular floor. Flesh struck against flesh, a rhythm the two had gotten used to. While it helped Robert keep his mind calm, for Missandei, it was a rather satisfying ritual. Willing and needy, both let go of all restraints and simply lived in the moment.

The wooden floor creaked under the mighty weight of Robert on the bed and the beautiful, dusky woman underneath him. No doubt, a few patrons of the inn found no sleep that night.

There was simply nothing else to do, and his actions were in line with most rich merchants. Nobody ever suspected who he was. 

The inn's keeper knew just one thing. 

The man had coin and a beauty beside him. 

####

While Robert's exploits in Essos inched closer to an end, Westeros knew nothing but inner turmoil. 

Stannis Baratheon did all he could to keep the realm safe and peaceful. But after so many months of Robert's disappearance, the regions barely held on by weak links began to falter. 

Vale erupted in an internal power struggle. House Royce tried to take over Vale by using Robert Arryn, on whose behalf Lord Royce acted as the Lord Regent. Other houses didn't like Lord Royce's ambitions. 

Meanwhile, Riverlands was a mess. With Robert gone, the Ironborn seemed to have regained their lost confidence. Or perhaps it was Westerlands aiding them. The fertile plains of Riverlands had turned into slaughterhouses, villages pillaged, fields burned, castles sieged, and blue blood spilled. 

Lord Hoster Tulley was barely alive, and Edmure was far too naive to do anything about it. The North came to Riverland's aid, but it wasn't enough. The Crown couldn't do anything either, as sending help would weaken the Crownlands and Stormlands. 

Dorne and Westerlands were seemingly in a partnership. Meanwhile, the Reach had refused to involve itself with the Crown anymore. However, House Tyrell did release the word that Margaery was pregnant. 

It was now clear what the Tyrells were plotting. In a few more months, Margaery would give birth. If it were to be a boy, House Tyrell would join the likes of Tywin to take the throne for themselves. 

Even for a bastard, as long as House Tyrell stood in support, anything was possible. 

All that piled up and made nights sleepless for Stannis Baratheon, the Hand of the King and the current ruler of the Seven Kingdoms… almost. 

"A waste of words." Stannis set the missive aside, his jaw tight. He looked to Melisandre. "He lives. But he will not return yet."

Melisandre studied the parchment, her red eyes flickering like embers. She nodded. "It is as I have foreseen. King Robert moves against the last of House Targaryen, fearing the dragon’s return. He writes that they are real, three dragons. Fire, once kindled, is not so easily extinguished."

"And when he returns, what will remain? No Baratheon throne, no seat to claim. They scheme already—who shall rule, who shall serve the small council. Tywin will see the Crown in his grasp, and whichever puppet they raise up will set his son free from his sworn Night's Watch oath." Stannis rumbled annoyedly, his fist white, clenched on the table. "King's Landing stands isolated."

"Then we must be ready," Melisandre said. "The siege will come, as surely as the night. But while you stand, the throne remains Baratheon’s by right—and by fire."

Sighing, Stannis nodded. There was nothing else they could do. 

"At least we have some coins to spare now. But I shall try and reassure the Tyrells one last time."

####

The Old Lion wasn’t feared for nothing. Once upon a time, he was feared for his ruthlessness, for the wealth he possessed. But now, he was feared, for he had nothing left to lose. His goal was set, and nothing could waver it. 

Cersei had ruined his reputation, his name. But he wasn't one to sit and sulk. What was lost had to be reclaimed. For that, he cared not how many villages and towns needed to be burned. How many castles needed to be destroyed? 

On a sunny day at Red Lake, the seat of House Crane in the Reach, a meeting took place. While it was kept a secret, half of the realm already knew about it. 

Outside the castle of House Crane, two small entrouges of knights met, each led by a lord and a lady. 

Then, a table with two chairs was placed between the two sides. Tywin Lannister took one seat, and the other was taken by Olenna Tyrell. 

"Why the urgent request, Lord Tywin?" Olenna asked as she relaxed in the chair. 

Tywin’s gaze was cold and unwavering. “You understand well enough, my lady. Let us not waste time with pretense. Even if Lady Margaery bears a son, the Crown won't exchange hands so easily.”

Olenna let out a dry chuckle, her lips curling in wry amusement. "Is that so? And pray tell, how exactly do you suggest I go about that?"

"You will not stand alone. If Lady Margaery bears a son, the Lannisters will stand with you. As for Dorne, they can be made to see reason," Tywin said.

"If? What if it's not a boy?"

"Then we take the next best course. Gendry, Robert’s eldest bastard, will claim the crown. Lady Margaery will be his Queen."

"And I suppose this generosity isn't without a price?"

"The crown will settle its debts to House Lannister in full. My son is to be pardoned, and a royal decree shall command his return to his rightful, noble station," Tywin clearly stated. His request was extremely reasonable and, in truth, far less rewarding than what the Tyrells would get in return. "Of course, dealing with Stannis and taking King's Landing comes first."

"Of course," Olenna responded and crossed her arms. She gazed at the surrounding trees, the beautiful Red Lake visible in the distance. 

Supporting Tywin was a great risk. If Robert ends up being alive and returns in the future, it'd put the new King in question. Or worse, Robert could simply reclaim the throne no matter if it be Margaery's son or the other bastard. Meanwhile, House Tyrell would be proclaimed a traitor to the Crown. 

Well aware of Robert's fury, she had no desire to be on the receiving end. Even less so when the man seemed to be in a better state now than in his prime days. 

"If… House Tyrell were to lend you our support, we’d require certain assurances. If you can neutralize the North, tame the Riverlands, and bring the Vale to our cause, I see no possibility of our loss. Our combined strength would make short work of the rest… all purely theoretical, of course."

Tywin fell silent now. Not because her request was unreasonable, but because of the time it'd take to fulfill all those. He'd left the North alone until now. 

"Very well." He stood up. "I'll see to it."

"I expect nothing less."

####

Ting!

Ting!

Ting!

"Ugh…" Robert groaned at the noise. His eyes slowly opened as he finally registered what the sound was. "Bells?"

He knew what it meant, but he didn't panic or rush. Feeling his left arm still supporting Missandei's head, he looked at her relaxed, flushed face. He'd gone a little overboard last night, ending up tiring her to her last sober breath. 

Almost a dozen times, she'd writhed atop his royal shaft, creaming him with her warm spasms and nectar. She'd moaned, panted, cried in thrill, jumped on his lap, flown in his arms, pressed underneath his thrusts, and everything in between. 

It'd been a week since they'd arrived at Astapor and other than touring the city, visiting shops, eating, all they did was non-stop fucking. 

"Missandei." He called her name and softly caressed her face. He felt the warmth of her dusky skin and sighed. "Wake up. It's time to start working."

"Hmm?" Missandei woke up slowly, her gaze one of the most beautiful things, eyes like molten gold. She gazed up at the man's face whose warmth she felt so close. She knew she had not a single piece of cloth covering her, just like him. Yet, after all the things they'd done, shame was lost. 

"My Lord?" She sat up abruptly as she heard the bell.

Robert chuckled and turned sideways to her, supporting his head on his hand, elbow folded. Seeing her beautiful, slender but hourglass figure, those handful tits still with marks of his passion marks, made him hard. 

"Ah!" Missandei's eyes widened as his well-built, immensely sizable cock grew to its full length and dangled towards her, almost standing straight on its own. He'd done her so much the previous night, and here he was ready again. "I-I… Would you like to…"

"Ignore it, lass." Robert sat up, facing her. Ignoring his erection, he reached for her round face, his wide palm easily covering half of her visage. His calloused thumb rubbed her soft lips. "Hard to keep the beast at rest when I wake to such a bonnie sight."

Missandei smiled and nestled her face into his palm as if surrendering to his will. 

Fighting his instincts to shove into her right away, Robert dragged himself off the bed. "I’ll go crack open the gates fer the Unsullied. Ye best stay here ‘til I’m back. We ride fer Yunkai once the bastards are half-crushed—wait too long, an’ they’ll bar the gates tight as a miser’s purse."

"Understood, My Lord."

What a sight it was. Robert watched as Missandei, in the nude, walked around and helped him get dressed. She tied his tunic, his gambeson. Then, when she knelt to help him into his boots, he almost lost it. Her needy, submissive golden eyes were too much to ignore. 

But, thanks to a week of rampant fucking, he was far too calm and in control of his desire. 

"Ain’t gonna take more’n three hours, so get our belongings packed." Robert grabbed his tool of the day, a wooden club with iron spikes all over it. It was massive, four and a half feet long, and pretty thick at the farthest edge. A perfect weapon to bash skulls and more—gates. 

With that, he left through the door. 

As soon as he came out onto the streets, he found them mostly empty. Nearly all of the civilian population had retreated to safe buildings, hiding. 

"Let's begin."

Robert was like an unstoppable bull. As he went towards the city walls, he came across many soldiers. They all died in moments. 

The political situation was strange. Astapor was freed by Daenerys, and once Daenerys reached Meereen, Yunkai attacked Astapor and took over. So, in the true sense, Robert was fighting Yunkai only. 

But still, taking Astapor first meant weakening Yunkai. And this time, Robert didn't go easy. 

This is too easy. 

Robert had hoped to face challenges. His goal was to get injured and grow stronger. But ever since he fought a dragon, all other foes started to feel too weak. Killing other humans, no matter how much armor they wore, was as simple as crushing an ant. 

Bam!

He slammed his club into a fully armored, helmeted commander, ordering the city's forces near the walls. Robert didn't even put much force, and yet, there was the Essosi man, helmet cracked open along with his skull, dead on the dirt. 

"Wraaaaa!" Robert roared and scared the men. 

It didn't take long for Robert to reach the gate opening mechanism. He killed every man protecting it and then released the counterweight that moved the automatic mechanism. The city's gates opened right away. 

But Robert didn't stop and climbed onto the city's walls. There, he ran from one end to the other near the gates, massacring the archers and other defenders. He gave the Unsullied men time to march in and occupy the city and its streets. 

It was a risky strategy, but the Unsullied had trekked around Yunkai without being spotted to take Astapor. The end goal was to surround Yunkai in the final battle as Meereen would deploy another thousand Unsullied. 

With that, Yunkai would be surrounded. 

But for now, Robert bashed the skulls and chests of Astapor's soldiers. Yet again, he faced no hurdles, no challenges. The rare few arrows struck him, but they didn't even pierce his bones. He did bleed and receive wounds, but they were all on the surface. 

"Oi, grab every silk-wearin’, silver-spoon-fed bastard ye can find!" Robert bellowed at the Unsullied. "Clamp some irons on ‘em—we’re draggin’ ‘em back to Meereen!"

The city of Astapor fell apart faster than a haystack. The Unsullied poured in and killed whatever opposed them. Robert only made sure they didn't get attacked by a large number of soldiers at once. 

If there was any large gathering of enemies, he splintered them apart with his fantastic club. 

As he'd promised, Robert finished taking over the city within three hours. By its end, he had Missandei join him on a merchant ship headed to Yunkai for safety. 

It was timing that counted the most. He had to reach Yunkai around the same time as the word of Astapor's fall reached there. 

Thankfully, it was a short trip through Slaver's Bay, and by the end of the day, he arrived at Yunkai. He gained entry by revealing his pouches of gold, outting himself as a simple merchant. 

After that, he had to just sit there in the city and wait. 

Well, not sit but rather lay on the bed with a beauty by his side. There were even fewer things to do in Yunkai than in Astapor as the city was in a state of lockdown. The gates were closed, all trade was halted, and the docks were emptied. 

The movement of the city guards increased, so Robert chose to stay inside the fine inn, buried deep in Missandei at most times. It had become a simple habit by then, and Missandei didn’t even bother wearing clothes anymore. 

At times, she instigated intimacy by randomly straddling his lap, joining him in the hot water tub, or simply daring to fondle his shaft whilst they lay in the bed. Of course, Robert always responded in kind by fucking her brains out. 

In a way, he felt an understanding and closeness forming between them. Something more than just their official roles. Sort of a friendship that came with a lot of intimate, exciting, arousing benefits. 

So, for the whole week in Yunkai, he gave Missandei all his attention. He heard her story from start to finish. He gave her some of his own altered stories in return. 

Then, on a random noon, they heard the bells ring. 

"Ugh… Well, time to bash some skulls." Robert groaned and pulled out of Missandei's warm, spent cunt. He dragged himself out of bed lazily, his cock soaked in her juices and his own white batter. 

He'd only dared to spill inside after finding out how easily accessible Moon Tea and their other variants were in Essos. He'd found that back in Astapor, and since then, he'd usually let her feel the warmth of a man's seed fill her. 

Surprisingly, she confessed to liking that sensation. Whenever he’d be on the verge of finishing, the last of his cock’s throbs made Missandei moan the most, and often match her own climax with him. She loved the sensation of his cock flexing inside her snug, neglected cunt. She loved the sticky, warm sensations of his cream filling her walls. 

And since she liked it so much, Robert kept giving it to her. Day and night, time and time every day. At first, the scent that filled the room made them feel a little vile, but after a few days, it became the arousing factor.

Heck, their day started with a good fuck and ended with an even better. She took care of his morning wood, and he took care of her nightly cravings.

Quickly, he wiped his cock clean and glanced at Missandei, still on the bed, arms and legs sprawled, her rosy, swollen pussy lips dripping with a mix of his and her liquidy climax. It was a beautiful sight, her gaping cunt as if breathing, yearning for his sizable shaft that had suddenly retreated. Her succulent breasts were still heaving, her lips wet from the endless exchange between their tongues. 

"No need to get up. Rest for now and clean up later; dress up. Once we take Yunkai, we'll leave for Meereen with all the captured nobles." Robert ordered and threw a quilt over her nude form. He didn't want to grow hard again watching her.

Missandei weakly nodded. "I understand, My Lord."

Dressed up, Robert grabbed his choice of weapon for the day, a mighty mace. It was all made of metal, four feet long with a fat head full of spikes. It felt strong and sturdy in his grip. 

Let's finish this damn waste of time. 

By now, Robert had lost hope of finding any challenge by fighting mere men. 

"Wraaaaa!" He ran like a bull and attacked the city's defense manning the walls. He had no real preferences when choosing an enemy to attack. Anything that moved was a target.

He was strong enough to take on elephants and the Golden Company before fighting a dragon. Now, even Robert didn't know how strong he was. He was yet to fully exert himself. 

Boom!

Instead of opening the city's gate through the common mechanism, Robert dared to just break it apart. The city wasn't that well-maintained to begin with. It had crumbling walls and towers. So, as soon as he shoulder-slammed into the metal-reinforced wooden gates, the big hinges gave way. 

After that, a deafening creak resounded, followed by the massive gates falling forward, giving a clear way for two thousand Unsullied to pour in. 

She sent him? Robert noticed Grey Worm leading the soldiers. Less work for me. 

So, he did what he could to help them. Once again, he smashed the archers on the walls. Some got their heads cracked open, some their chest, and a few simply got knocked over the wall. Good for them; they were the most likely to survive meeting Robert's mace. 

An hour went by, and he had finished killing almost every archer there. By then, the city was in chaos, the Unsullied were busy killing the clusters of soldiers hiding around and capturing nobles. 

Robert helped them there just to get the job done quicker. He didn't want to waste days in Yunkai to find enemies gone into hiding. 

By the time the day came to an end, he sat in a tall, stepped pyramid. It used to be the city's wise master's place. Now, it was littered with dead bodies and currently being cleaned by Unsullied men. 

Sitting alone at a table with some food in front of him, Robert waited for Missandei to reach him so he could plan the next step. 

Let's see how Daenerys reacts now. 

####

It was already night, so Robert couldn't leave for Meereen right away. 

He didn't bed Missandei again and maintained a respectful distance. With Grey Worm constantly frowning and sniffing around, Robert kept his mouth shut, too. Other than a few insults, of course. 

The next day, a major portion of the Unsullied army marched out of Yunkai with two long rows of handcuffed men, all chained together in a line. The left line belonged to the nobles of Astapor, and the right line belonged to the nobles of Yunkai. There were more than five hundred nobles they had captured. 

Robert rode a horse alongside Missandei. But it took them almost three days to reach Meereen due to the slow pace of marching soldiers and the prisoners. Thankfully, he found no lack of comfort with tents erected for him at every stop. And also, occasional attention from Missandei’s soft lips.

"What's goin’ on here?" Robert noticed something different as he rode into Meereen. "The city feels different. Where'd all the noble prancers bugger off to?"

Missandei looked equally confused. Normally, the streets were filled with men dressed in varying colors. Now, most men wore simpler clothes. Also, there were fewer people in general. 

Nonetheless, Robert entered the Great Pyramid and found Ser Jorah waiting for him at the base. With a deep frown on his face, the ex-slaver Knight of Westeros didn't seem very pleased to see him. 

"Khaleesi wishes to see you right away." Ser Jorah stated and led the way up the massive pyramid. 

"What happened here? The city looks empty." Missandei asked as she kept pace beside Robert. 

Ser Jorah grunted first. "A great deal has happened. The nobles sought to reclaim the city, and many good men paid the price. Daario fell in an ambush. The Queen has dealt with most of the surviving nobles—those who remain are being hunted as we speak."

That's it? That's her wisdom? Robert frowned in silence. He knew the nobles would rebel as soon as Daenerys decided to randomly crucify the nobles out of spite. What happened now was a mere reaction. 

"So the Queen's going to gut every last noble, eh?" He asked. 

"Aye, that's her plan. In her own words, you can't build a new house atop an old one. The old one must be demolished to the very foundation first." Ser Jorah answered and led them through the final turn, ushering them all into Daenerys' throne room.

Robert looked up at the stepped platform where Daenerys stood alone. Her lips held a bright smile, her garb now less colorful, colder and more serious, less revealing. Something had changed in her. It was visible.

He formed a smile on his lips, too. 

"The Slaver's Bay is yours." Robert declared as he walked up the stairs to reach her, face to face on the same level. Well, perhaps not face to face as he towered over her. “Got all them noble sorts rounded up and brought over.”

Daenerys stared at his face for a short while, constantly smiling as if he were her lover. She then walked around him and hugged Missandei. 

"Ser Jorah," Daenerys addressed. "Have the prisoners locked. I gave them their chance, and they chose pride over change. I will not waste the lives of my men on stubborn fools who would rather cling to their chains than break them."

"There are five hundred of them, Your Grace. Are we to feed them? It will drain our stores." Ser Jorah asked. 

"Aye, lop their bleedin’ heads off an’ be done with it," Robert suggested, just to see Daenerys' reaction. 

The Mother of Dragons shook her head. "No need to feed them too much. But rather, they shall be feeling someone. Rhaegal and Viserion require a constant supply of cattle, it's better to utilize… alternatives."

What? Robert hid his expressions well, but his mind was in turmoil. Even though he considered himself ruthless, he never bothered to torture men. He gave swift death to his enemies. Feeding them to dragons was foolish. It would likely make the dragons addicted to human flesh. 

What chance? You took cities like a child snatching sweets, then tossed them aside when the thrill was gone. You've never ruled a damn thing in your life, woman.

"Understood, Khaleesi." Ser Jorah instantly obeyed and left. 

Robert said nothing. He silently evaluated Daenerys and her mental state. 

"Lord Ned." Daenerys turned back to Robert, then, to his surprise, stepped forward and embraced him, resting her head lightly against his chest. "You have my gratitude, truly. I will not forget this kindness… and I think you will find the reward I have in mind for you most enjoyable—tonight."

"Haha!" Robert wrapped his mighty arms around her too, one reaching for her slim waist. "Aye, I can't wait."

"You must be weary from your journey. The servants have drawn a bath for you. Rest, and we shall speak again at supper." Daenerys turned from him, reclaiming her seat. "I still have some petitions to hear."

"Bloody starvin' I am!" Robert turned around and walked past Missandei, leaving the throne room. "I'll be seein' ye lot later, then."

In truth, he didn't want to be there. Robert, or perhaps the creature he'd become from the combination of two souls, hated tyrants like the Mad King. Perhaps the combined hate of two souls had soared even higher now. 

Seeing Daenerys make such decisions left him with no excuses. 

The time to end his Essosi adventure had arrived, it seemed. 

####

In all honesty, Robert was shaken by what Daenerys had committed. She'd murdered half the nobles of Meereen by the time he returned, and then she condemned all the nobles from Yunkai and Astapor he'd caught to their deaths.

He would have ignored it if she'd just killed them. But then, her decision to use the noble prisoners as food for her dragons was a little too much. They were not the signs of a just and wise ruler. 

And yet here he was, sitting in his bedchamber, waiting for Daenerys Targaryen to arrive as she'd informed him during dinner. He already knew what she desired and what her plans were. He'd completed his end of the bargain, and now it was time for her. 

But he felt conflicted. What to do with Daenerys? Did madness run in Targaryen blood?

Just then, the door to his bedchamber opened. Daenerys walked in her usual, proud manner. But now, she wore nothing on her dainty feet, and her attire seemed rather convenient. A sleeveless, blue gown held onto her shoulders by two, thin strings. The wide neckline barely hid anything, giving away half of her swells to his view. 

Robert glanced at her from his bed. He was seated at the edge, wearing a plain tunic and breeches, no footwear. 

I need to know what her plan for Westeros is first. 

With that, he made the decision to do it. Since she was willing to satisfy his needs, he chose to do just that. Eventually, her tongue would slip, as all do. 

"Here to hand me my reward?" He asked with a grin. 

Daenerys smirked a bit and nodded. She walked all the way to him and, once standing between his spread knees, she tugged on the gown's strings on her shoulder and let it pool around her slender, milky pale feet. She had come prepared, no smallclothes, her hair untied, her cunt decorated with a thin strip of ashen pubes. 

"You earned it," Daenerys replied, with a lot of pride in her voice. As she stared at his significant form, her purple eyes grew confident. 

Let's hear her thoughts and return to King's Landing. Robert decided and rose to his full height, dwarfing Daenerys' short frame, her slender body that'd grown beautifully ripe. He stared down at her face that was merely reaching his chest. 

Unlike the last time, where he allowed her to do it her way, this time, it was his reward and his decision to have her however he pleased. Of course, Daenerys was likely not expecting that. But he tried to hint it by keeping his blue eyes sternly at her face. Like a challenge, a taunt to her noble blood. 

Then, as he began to untie his tunic, he took a step forward. In response, Daenerys stepped back instinctively as he loomed over her like a wolf hunting a rabbit.

"What's the matter, Daenerys Targaryen?" he asked with a chuckle. "Scared ye can't handle me like yer dragons? Might be, I’m twice as stubborn and thrice as likely to bite."

Daenerys smirked and stepped closer, pressing her soft, bare body against Robert’s solid frame. Her supple breasts, warm and firm, smushed against his chest, her hardened nipples grazing against his skin. The contrast of her delicate flesh against the broad, muscled bulk of his torso sent a shiver through her spine.

With a playful glint in her violet eyes, she reached up and swatted his hand away, her fingers deftly taking over the task of untying his tunic. She moved with slow, deliberate intent, teasing him with every brush of her fingertips as she loosened the knot.

"I like overcoming challenges," she purred, her voice smooth as silk yet laced with confidence.

Robert let out a booming laugh, a deep, guttural sound that rumbled through his chest. He yanked the tunic over his head and tossed it aside. His tanned, battle-worn body was on full display now, a thick wall of hardened muscle. His smirk widened as his heavy hands settled on his hips.

"In that case… I won't make it easy."

Daenerys accepted the challenge wordlessly. Her slender hands moved with purpose, unfastening his breeches with practiced ease. The fabric slid down his powerful thighs, pooling at his feet, freeing the thick, pulsating length of his swollen manhood. It stood proud, veins bulging, the heavy crown glistening with arousal.

Her eyes slightly widened, her fingers instinctively wrapping around his thick girth. She had taken him once before, but the sheer size of him still sent a thrill of nervous excitement through her warm core. She tightened her grip and began stroking him, slowly at first, her delicate fingers struggling to circle his shaft completely.

Robert’s body responded to her touch immediately. But he was never the kind of man to just stand and let himself be serviced like some green boy. 

His thick arm snaked around her slender waist, pulling her flush against him, while his other hand slid up to clasp her chin. It wasn’t rough, not yet, but it was firm. A silent reminder of who was in control. 

He tilted her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze, those striking violet eyes locked onto his stormy blue ones.

He licked his lips, admiring the heat in her expression, the way her breath grew uneven. "Ye’ll be out cold 'fore I’m done, so where d’ye want me to plant the last stroke?"

Daenerys looked down, his grip loosened just enough for her to drop her gaze. And there it was; his cock, impossibly thick, barely contained in her hands. The sight alone made her stomach tighten with a familiar pulse, her thighs clench together in thirst. 

The musky scent hit her all at once. Strong, masculine, and intoxicating. It triggered something deep inside her, a primal memory. One that had once been unsettling but had, over time, twisted into something else. 

Her breath deepened as she inhaled, her body betraying her mind as heat pooled between her thighs.

Finally, she made up her mind. She lifted her chin again, eyes burning with determination.

"Since this shall be your reward… Inside is fine."

Robert’s grin stretched wider, in wicked amusement. "Ah, so I'll paint yer cunt white? Fine reward, I must say."

Daenerys simply nodded, unwavering.

Without warning, Robert’s grip tightened, his arm locking around her waist as he hauled her harder into him. Her grip on his cock froze for a brief second as he combed his thick fingers through her silvery strands, gripping the back of her head. He yanked her face closer, tilting her up into a deep, claiming kiss.

His lips crashed against hers, rough, unyielding, searing hot. His tongue forced its way past her lips, tasting her, claiming every inch of her mouth. Their breaths tangled, hot and ragged, saliva slicking their lips as the kiss grew filthier, messier. He sucked on her tongue, groaning deep in his throat, the sound vibrating through her.

His hand tugged her head back just enough to deepen the kiss even more. His teeth caught her bottom lip, biting down before sucking it into his mouth, leaving her lips glossed with spit.

Robert moved like he owned her, and deep down, Daenerys wanted nothing more than to relive that night full of dripping sin. Still, at first, she clung to her pride, carrying herself with the grace of a queen, trying to keep some semblance of regal control while kissing him slowly. But that slowly crumbled as she tasted his ravenous tongue. 

"Let me…" She broke the kiss with effort, lips swollen, mouth gulping between words. "Let me prepare you."

There was a quiet kind of reverence in the way she dropped to her knees, her milky thighs folding neatly beneath her, silver hair cascading around her shoulders. It was a sight to behold: a Targaryen, kneeling for a man with nothing but hunger in her violet eyes. A queen, bowing for a brute.

"Stop there, lass." Roberts abruptly grabbed her wrist before her knees could touch the floor. His grip was iron, firm, and possessive. "We do this proper-like—ye get a mouthful o’ me, an’ I get a mouthful o’ ye. Fair trade, aye?"

She looked up at the giant of a man, her brows lifting. "How?"

"Like this!"

Before she could make sense of his words, Robert’s hulking arms wrapped around her waist, but instead of pulling her against him, he twisted, his entire torso shifting sideways. His grip adjusted in a split-second, and the next thing Daenerys knew, she was weightless; hauled up, flipped upside down, her body draped over his like a silken sheet.

Her ashen hair sprinkled down like a waterfall, her legs wide apart, wrapped around his head. 

"Aaaah!" Daenerys yelped, her entire body turned upside down.

"Hah! Perks o' bein' built like an ox, lass. Now quit gawkin’ an’ get to eatin’!"

Her legs dangled around his head. Her pussy blushing pink, glistening with her arousal. He had already stretched her there once, but still looked beautiful and tight on her pale, slender body. Her twitching cunt was now spread open for his taking. And by the gods, he took.

His grip on her waist tightened, thick fingers digging into the soft curve of her hips as he buried his face between her legs. His barely grown stubble was coarse, scratching against her sensitive skin as his tongue delved deep, lapping at her folds, tasting her like a man starved. She was hot and slick, but still so tight, so inviting, gripping and twitching around nothing as if begging to be filled.

Her hips wiggled at the first firm flick of his tongue against her clit, a sharp exhale escaping her lips. "Ooooh—!"

Daenerys barely had time to recover before Robert’s lips sealed around her little pearl of pleasure, sucking with just the right pressure to make her thighs shudder against his broad shoulders. He groaned against her, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up her spine.

Meanwhile, Daenerys focused on the beast hanging in front of her face; girthy, veined, throbbing with need. Her delicate fingers wrapped around his length, stroking slowly, her touch soft compared to his brutish handling.

She started with just the tip, pressing her lips to the swollen head. She kissed and licked before parting her mouth to take him in. The taste of musk and salty sweat spread over her tongue, his precum already beading at the tip, smearing against her tongue as she sucked. 

She knew full well she’d never take him entirely. He was too big, too thick, the sheer size of him making her jaw strain even as she slowly bobbed her head.

But Robert was impatient.

His hips suddenly bucked forward, shoving more of his length past her lips, making her whimper around him. He didn't stop, didn't let her ease into it. He fucked her mouth the same way he devoured her cunt; greedy and unrelenting.

"Ghhhkk—!" Daenerys choked, her throat squeezing around him, drool spilling past her lips, wet and messy. She tried to brace herself, to find control in the act, but Robert had already seized it. 

She was no stranger to rough men taking the helm in bed. But this was different. This was more than just fucking. This was more… arousing.

Easily keeping her caught with one arm, he stretched down the other hand, his fingers fisted in her hair, holding her head from behind, keeping her in place as he pushed deeper, groaning at the feel of her wet, constricting throat.

"Fuck… that's it, lass," he rasped, voice thick with hunger. "Yer takin’ it like a queen."

His tongue went back to her cunt with renewed fervor, spearing into her. His lips wrapped around her swollen, sensitive bud, sucking harshly just to feel her tremble in his arms. Her cries of pleasure were muffled around his cock, her moans spilling out in wet, gurgling sounds as her spit dripped down his shaft.

By the time he was done with her, his cock was drenched in sticky strings of her saliva, his chin glistening with the juices of her cunt. 

Daenerys muttered incoherently, almost as if she couldn’t believe she came by only his tongue. Her swollen lips left slightly open, and her tongue still twitching from the phantom sensation that his brutish cock left.

With a growl, Robert shifted his grip and unceremoniously carried her to the nearby study table.

Robert let Daenerys sit on the edge of the table for a moment, letting her catch her breath, but only so he could admire what he’d done to her. Her body was trembling, slick with sweat and arousal, her parted lips gasping. She was already halfway ruined, and he hadn’t even truly begun.

Then, he lifted her into his arms again, ready to ruin her completely.

“Oh!”

Face to face, he shoved his arms beneath her knees and circled down to grip her ass. His wide, rough palms kneaded into her soft flesh. 

Daenerys wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively, a little out of fear of falling, but mostly out of lustful expectation.

He carried her in the air effortlessly, her delicate little body meaningless in his strength. Her slick, flushed pussy hovered just above his aching cock, the swollen cockhead already nudging against her inner thighs.

"Don't be shy—let's hear ye’ cry out to the Gods! It’ ain't’ pleasure till you worship them!" 

Still holding her up with one arm, he reached down with the other, gripping the base of his monstrous cock. He guided it between her thighs, running the thick, drooling tip along her flushed folds, spreading the mess of her nectar all over. But he didn’t push in yet.

Instead, he let his cockhead rest right at the entrance of her gates, throbbing, teasing. He felt her tense in his arms, her thighs trembling against his sides. The stretch was already immense, her dribbling little hole struggling against the sheer size of him.

“Ah!” Daenerys gasped, trying and failing to keep her composure. Her nails dug into his back, her breathing uneven, her pride warring with the overwhelming sensation.

Robert chuckled, savoring her reaction. He’d taken her before and he knew she could take his cock.

Slowly, he lowered her onto him, letting gravity do its work. Inch by inch, her tight walls stretched around him, her pussy greedily swallowing his cockhead even as her body quivered in protest. She was helpless against it, her delicate frame forced to accommodate his rigid flesh.

Her thighs clenched, her whole body fighting and surrendering all at once. She was helpless in that position, dangling above his arms at his mercy. A choked, needy whimper escaped her lips as her pussy stretched beyond its limits, forced to mold around the brutal girth.

It was too much, too deep, too good. Her slick walls fluttered around him, struggling, squeezing.

And then Robert started to move.

At first, it was just slow, powerful thrusts upward, his cock dragging against every tender, swollen inch inside her. His crown scraped her wet walls clean, pushing against every sensitive spot. But soon, he wanted more. 

He tightened his grip on her ass, broad hands spreading her open wider. He started bouncing her, jolting her ass up and down in his palm, practically impaling her over and over.

Daenerys let out a broken cry as he lifted her up and slammed her back down onto his cock, compelling her to take his entire length. He used her own weight against her, spearing her again and again, making her ride him whether she wanted to or not.

The sound of their bodies colliding was obscene, slick, messy, wet.

Her eyes turned glassy, dazed from the sheer intensity of it, her thighs trembling uncontrollably. She buried her face against his neck, her arms clutching him for dear life. And then, the last of her restraints, shattered.

She’d thought she’d come prepared. Clearly, she wasn’t.

“Oooh Ned…. Lord… Ned…. Fuck! Ahhhh!! Ah!! Fuck meh—hhh.. Yes!” Her moans turned wild, shameless, her noble airs completely abandoned. She clung to him, sobbing his name, lost in the relentless, brutal pleasure of being fucked open and owned.

Robert only grinned, fucking her harder. "That’s the sound I wanted, lass. Let 'em all hear ye scream."

Robert kept pounding into her, relentlessly, driving her toward that peak he knew she couldn’t escape. Her body fought it at first, tensed against the overwhelming pleasure, but he felt the way her walls gripped him, the way her ass clenched in his grasp. And when she came; Oh, when she came…

“Oooooooh!”

It was with a sharp, keening wail, her entire body seizing up as if locked in a spell. Her cunt milked him in waves, slick, hot, pulsing around his thick length. He let her ride it out, grinning at the way she twitched and shuddered in his grasp, every muscle knotting up, her pale, sweat-slicked body trembling from the force of release.

But he still wasn’t done. Not even close.

With her still panting, eyes dazed, lips parted as though she barely remembered how to breathe, Robert carried her to the bed like a doll. He barely registered her weak gasp before he slammed her down onto the soft bedding. 

The mattress dipped under Daenerys light frame, her limbs jolting from the impact, those perfect, perky little swells bouncing wildly from the force. 

He took a moment, just a moment, to drink in the sight of her. Her thighs parted just enough to reveal the glistening, swollen, rosy lips of her used cunt, still twitching from the last orgasm.

"Ain’t done yet, lass," he growled, grabbing her legs and yanking them up, spreading her wide. 

He practically folded her in half with ease, pressing her knees up, exposing that needy, throbbing pussy. It was soaked, stretched, a perfect, inviting mess. 

From below her knees, his hands locked her wrists on either side of her hips. His cock pressed in, spearing her open in one deep, brutal thrust that she couldn’t escape from.

“Aaaaaah… Mmm… N-Ned!”

He was already moving in the next second, driving into her with a force that made the whole damn bed creak. Each stroke sent wet, squelching sounds echoing through the chamber, his balls slapping against the curve of her ass as he drilled into her again and again.

Robert didn’t just fuck her; he devoured her. He kissed her hard, sucking her lower lip between his teeth before trailing down her throat, licking and biting, leaving deep red pleasure marks along her delicate, snowy skin. He moved lower, taking one of her hardened nipples into his hungry mouth, flicking his tongue, then biting down just enough to make her whimper. 

Her whole front gleamed with his spit, glistening trails of saliva marking the places he now owned.

And gods, how she screamed for him now. No queenly poise left, no proud dignity. Just a madwoman crying out her pleasure, her wails raw, desperate, animalistic. Her whole body quivered beneath him, her muscles spasming as yet another orgasm tore through her.

Every time he slammed his cock balls deep into her, his weight knocked the air out of her lungs. She felt the bedding underneath her turn soaked from her sweat. His massive cock punched her cervix like a brutal duel. 

“Noooohh! Fuck! Gods! Yesss! Fuck… Ahhh Ahhoohh ahhh! Fuc—ch!”

But Robert wasn’t stopping. He slammed into her, harder, deeper, stretching her wide, fucking her through every mind numbing orgasm. He felt the heat building in his spine, that tight coil ready to snap. But he wasn't done interrogating her. He wasn't done making her lose herself.

"Hah! S-So… W-What next… I-Is that it for me? Daenerys… What will you have me do now…"

Every time her eyes fluttered shut, he pinched one of her aching, oversensitive nipples, making her yelp. He’d smack her cheek, just enough to jolt her back to reality. Even though soft, his hands were rough, the callouses scraping against her fevered skin.

Her pale, milky body was a dream. No longer white, but flushed deep crimson, glowing like something blessed by a Red Priestess, bathed in heat and sin.

"Mmmm… Y-Yes! M-mine… You're mine! I want you!" She muttered, delirious, her voice slurred with pleasure.

"Aye… Argh!" Robert groaned and fully laid down on her body, pressing his weight so much that the Mother of Dragons vanished underneath his frame. Balls deep thrust, he rested his face beside her ear and kept talking. "T-To do what?"

"Conquer! Aaaah!" Daenerys cooed, yet again climaxing on his shaft, unaware how many times it'd been now. "Yes, yes, yes… W-We will together… conquer Westeros!"

"And I'll be your king?"

"Yessssss~ Yes, please… O-Oh!" Daenerys mumbled, eyes shut but awake, tears of soreness and arousal flowing freely. "Uhk… Yes… Rule with me!"

Robert saw that it was going his way. So, he controlled the pace to not erupt so quickly.

"And what of your enemies? Lannister, Baratheon?"

"W-We'll kill them all! All of the traitors… W-Wooooh killed my family!" Daenerys proclaimed, as if her inner mind was talking. "I'll have them… tortured… that Usurper… Aaaah…"

Robert gritted his teeth, his pace turning ruthless, punishing.

Daenerys barely held on, her legs forced high, trembling violently as he shoved his cock mercilessly, his thick shaft carving into her overstimulated flesh, marking her his forever.

"Aaah—Aaaaah!" Her cries were no longer words but desperate, shattered sounds. 

Having had enough, he sat back up on knees as he kept fucking her, watching her flushed face. Her small tits bounced wildly with every slam of his hips, shimmering with his spit. She was gone, a ruined mess, eyes rolling back, drool glistening at the corner of her lips.

Robert felt it, his peak barreling toward him like a warhorse at full charge. His balls tightened, aching, full, swollen with the need to claim her properly. 

“Aghk!”

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and completely let go against her tightly clamped walls. His cock throbbed like no tomorrow, his gut clenching. As thick rivers of hot, potent cream spilled deep into her raw, clenching cunt, he groaned, long and heavy. He ground against her as he filled her, pumping her full, making sure none of it went to waste.

Finally, Robert exhaled hard, staring down at her. This beautiful, ruined little queen, her legs still spread around his waist, her pussy stretched, leaking, stuffed to the brim with his seed. 

"Gahh…" Robert panted like a wild boar but didn't pull out nor release his weight over her "A-And… What of Starks? D-Didn't they rebel, too?"

"Them…" Daenerys barely opened her dreamy eyes and lovingly raised her dainty arms, reaching for his warm face. "T-They too… will burn to my Dragons… I-I'll… not repeat Aegon's mistake… All S-Starks must… die."

Robert froze there, a surge of fury rising. His already panting breath was now filled with warm anger, his chest rising and falling. His hands that kept her legs folded against her breasts stayed there. 

His wide eyes glared at Daenerys' feminine, spent face. 

But this time, he saw something else. Beneath that beauty. Beneath that charm. 

The face of an old man with white hair, mumbling like a fool, snarly, nails grown long. A King who grew mad. 

So that’s… your answer, Daenerys Targaryen. 

He slowly let his breath calm and slipped out of her drenched core, letting her legs go down. She fell asleep right away. But he remained there, sitting, looking at her. 

Now, I have my answer too.

________________

A/N: My fingers hurt. This is the longest chapter of this GOT series yet. I hope you liked it.

Question - For the last time asking. Do you want to see Robert passionately fuck Catelyn Stark once? No strings attached. Imagine it as Robert's final act of freeing himself from the past by experiencing his beloved wife one last time. 

[NOTE: It will be a one-time, one-night stand thing.]

Choice 1 - Yes, bang her.

Choice 2 - No, leave her alone.