King Stag Ch. 2 (Game of Thrones) (Patreon)

Themes: No Sex, Cat Fight, Plot, Pregnancy

Word Count: 2,181

Summary: Ned returns and Robert has some kingly shit to do.

-x-X-x-  

The throne room is silent as those in attendance shift from foot to foot, staring and waiting for the new King to speak. In the time that had passed since they’d taken King’s Landing, the Baratheon Lord had indeed become King. And so, Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm sat upon the Iron Throne, presumably in judgment of those that stood, or knelt before him.

Robert couldn’t help but frown. Did they think he would react poorly? Had he not spared Elia and Rhaegar’s children? Perhaps it was different in their eyes, because now it was Lyanna. A grimace spreads across the bearded, broad-shouldered King’s face. Lyanna had a look of defiance in her eyes that he was not unfamiliar with, as she held her beautiful baby boy in her arms. 

Aemon Targaryen, the last of Rhaegar’s seed, looks nothing like a Targaryen, even if their blood does run through his veins. Instead, he is Northerner through and through, with a few strands of black hair atop his head and the darkest grey in his eyes that Robert has ever seen. Aemon is beautiful and if he didn’t think it would be taken poorly by all sides involved, Robert would have accepted the boy as his own.

Off to the side, Ned stands alongside Ashara Dayne. The beautiful young woman is also holding a babe in her arms, a daughter that had been introduced as Lyarra. Ned’s daughter… Robert doesn’t envy his friend for the shitstorm that will no doubt follow when he returns to Winterfell with the woman and child at his side… but at least it won’t be Robert’s problem.

No, Robert’s problem is the kneeling Kingsguard chained and bound at the feet of Ned’s men. Not a single of the hundred that Robert had sent along with the Stark man had died. With such overwhelming numbers and no hope of victory, the Kingsguard had surrendered. Even now though, Robert could tell that none of them were happy about it.

They were waiting for a response from him though. He’d already let the silence stretch on for far too long. Slowly, with the strength of his body only more pronounced by him taking his time with his movements, Robert stands up, the weight of his crown heavy on his head. They think him a monster… he will simply have to continue showing everyone that they’re wrong.

“None in this court have reason to be guilty on this day. No, the shame lies with another, a man dead and broken, the rubies on his breastplate scattered across the bed of the Trident.”

There is some murmuring and some stiffening and some eye-widening as people begin to realize who Robert is talking about, but the newly crowned King soldiers on.

“Rhaegar Targaryen was a kidnapper and a rapist! Neither Lyanna Stark nor her child will shoulder HIS crimes, or the crimes of his father, who was a murderer and a mad man! The Targaryen Dynasty is over, but House Targaryen need not die out. Ned!”

The young Lord of Winterfell steps forward, perhaps the only one who hadn’t looked at him as if he was about to do something monstrous. Robert’s lifelong friend has a smile on his face as he bows his head.

“Your Grace.”

“Piss on that Ned, I’m still bloody Robert to you, I don’t care where the hell we are! Ned, I would have you give your nephew a Lordship in the North when he is of age, if you think it best. And I would marry him to my daughter, Mya Baratheon, when that time comes.”

The latter part is met with some shock. Robert has just legitimized his bastard daughter before the court in a rather casual manner, but given he is King and it is in his purview to legitimize bastards, there’s nothing technically wrong with what he’s doing. Ned seems to consider for a moment, glancing to his sister before smiling even wider.

“I would be glad to take Aemon as one of my bannermen when the time comes. And I agree to the match because him and your daughter.”

Lyanna looks just a tad shell-shocked as Robert slowly descends from the dais upon which the Iron Throne is sat. He strides across the throne room to where she stands with purpose, pulling up right in front of them. Leaning down, he reaches out tenderly and give the curious babe a jolly smile. Aemon’s dark grey eyes look back at him, wide and unblinking, but when Robert offers his finger, the baby boy reaches for it and curls his small hand around it, squeezing.

It’s a moment of gentle kindness that the new King would prefer to happen in privacy, but given his status, Robert doesn’t expect to ever have privacy again. Still, he does his best to block out the people all around them as he smiles at Lyanna.

“He’s got a strong grip my Lady.”

For the first time since she’s arrived, the defiance and anger is gone, replaced by a slightly bewildered smile as the she-wolf responds in an uncharacteristically soft manner.

“… Thank you, your grace.”

It feels like the right time. Robert extracts his finger from baby Aemon’s hand and drops down on one knee, right then and there on the floor of the throne room. On bended knee, he takes a dumbstruck Lyanna’s hand in his own and tenderly kisses her knuckles with his lips. Due to his height, Robert is almost eye level with the baby in Lyanna’s arms anyways, but he focuses his gaze on his beloved as he speaks.

“Lyanna Stark, I would have it form your lips and no other’s. Will you consent to marry me?”

Her light grey eyes fill with tears, but the smile stays on her face as she bites her lower lip and nods.

“I-I will.”

And like that, the atmosphere becomes one of celebration and levity as Robert whoops and stands, pulling both his beloved and her babe into his arms and lifting them clear off the ground as he spins them around. There is much cheering and much rejoicing to be had, but in the end it comes to a close far too soon, as there is one more bit of business that must be handled here and now.

Lyanna and Aemon end up off to the side of the Iron Throne as Robert once again sits down. The three Kingsguard are pushed forward, front and center. Looking upon them, Robert feels regret more than anything else regarding these three knights.

“Lord Commander Hightower. Ser Dayne. Ser Whent. Your King is dead, as is your Prince. I will not ask you to bend the knee. Instead, I beseech you to accept the Black. Go to the Wall and live out your remaining days as brothers of the Night’s Watch. What say you?”

There is a moment of silence as the knights glare at him. For a second, Robert thinks he’s about to get three refusals. However, Arthur Dayne’s eyes dart to his sister at the last moment and then he bows his head.

“… I accept.”

The Lord Commander and Oswell Whent glance to him in shock. After a moment, Ser Whent follows suit.

“As do I.”

“I shall not.”

The White Bull’s voice is solid and unmoving and where his fellow knights have lowered their heads in supplication, his remains held high, his eyes attempting to pierce into Robert’s mind from the looks of things. The newly crowned King only feels sadness as he regards the honorable knight. He lets out a short sigh and nods his head, waving a hand in dismissal.

“Tomorrow then, at first light.”

It’s all he needs to say. Tomorrow at first light, Robert Baratheon, First of His Name will execute Lord Commander Gerold Hightower. At the same time, Ser Dayne and Ser Whent will begin their long journey North, to the Wall. In the end, it is the best Robert can do for the three men. Part of him still blames them for the part they played in Rhaegar’s defilement of his Lyanna, but ultimately he knows they were merely doing their duty as members of the Kingsguard. Their oaths bound them to a mad king and a rapist. Hopefully their lives as brothers of the Night’s Watch will allow them to regain their lost honor.

And with that, court is dismissed. Everyone is off to do their own thing and Robert, as King, has plenty of work to do before he can rest. This day will be the same as the last, long and hard… and now that Lyanna is here, he dares not ease his stress on Elia Martell, as he’s been doing for the last two months…

-x-X-x-

“My Princess, it is so good to see you.”

Elia smiles as she and her former lady-in-waiting hug.

“It is good to see you too Ashara, but please, call me Elia. We are that close, are we not?”

Ashara Dayne smiles brilliantly, the beautiful young woman inclining her head.

“It is as you say Elia.”

The duskier Dornish woman lets out an explosive sigh and sits down heavily on the bed beside them. Blinking, Ashara does the same after a moment.

“What is the matter?”

Pressing her lips tightly together, Elia looks down into her lap and the palms of her hands.

“I fear I’ve made a grave mistake, and endangered the fragile new peace of the realm. After such a damaging war… I was not in my right mind Ashara, you must understand.”

Ashara furrows her brow in confusion.

“Please Elia, we are friends, yes? Speak plainly.”

The Princess swallows convulsively and nods. Then the words flow out of her.

“I seduced Robert Baratheon my friend. I snuck into his bed naked and I convinced him to lay with me. I thought… I thought that I would take revenge for myself against Rhaegar’s memories. I-I thought I was keeping my children safe by staying in his good graces. But now we have been having sex every night for the last two months and I find myself with child once more, as unbelievable as it seems.”

Ashara’s violet eyes are wide, her mouth agape. Elia has just dropped the biggest bombshell she could on her, and for a moment, the Lady Dayne does not know how to respond. In the end, she does not have to.

“You WHAT?!”

Both highborn women look up with startled eyes at the open doorway to the room where Lyanna Stark stands with anger in her grey gaze. The she-wolf stalks into the room and after spending two months traveling with the Stark woman, Ashara wants to be anywhere BUT here. And perhaps it is a little cowardly… but she takes the opportunity as Elia freezes up to slip out.

“… I’ll leave the two of you to talk.”

And then she’s gone, even as Elia rises to meet an advancing Lyanna, lips pressed tightly together.

“You frigid bitch! You couldn’t keep one husband and now you’re aiming to steal another!”

Elia’s wide eyes grow wider still, but this time it is in anger as her initial shame and guilt are washed away by the insult. Despite being known as frail and soft-spoken, having Robert treat her like a real woman these past two months has emboldened the beautiful Dornish Princess. Her hackles rise as she goes from on the defensive to aggressive in a split second.

“Funny, coming from the silly, stupid little girl who couldn’t keep her hands off a married man! You ended up burned and now you’re desperate to make it back into the arms of the man you abandoned in the first place!”

Lyanna’s grey eyes go just as wide as her nostrils flare in furry, then there’s a loud smacking sound as she slaps Elia, and the Dornish woman gasps at the sudden stinging sensation on her face. They look at each other for a moment Elia with indignation in her eyes and Lyanna with a look of smug satisfaction on her face.

And then the smacking sound is repeated as Elia in turn slaps Lyanna across the face, and their expressions are reversed. Lyanna’s gasp swiftly turns into a snarl and a moment later the she-wolf launches herself at Elia. In reply, the Dornish woman lifts her arms, ready to fight like savages, if that’s what Lyanna wants. Neither woman is in their right mind, but as it turns out, Ashara happened across the one man who could have gotten through to either at this point.

“Lyanna! Elia! What are you two doing?!”

Now it’s Robert Baratheon standing in the doorway, as both women whirl to face him in surprise. They look to each other and Lyanna finds herself not at all liking the wicked glint that she sees appear on Elia’s eye. She’s not about to lose to the other woman… not in this.