GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag 1 - The Wolf In Stag's Clothing [Poll Winner] (Patreon)

Synopsis - Robert Baratheon dies a miserable death, betrayed by Cersei. Days follow, and Eddard Stark has his head removed—but this isn't the end.

As Eddard Stark drops dead, he wakes up again. But his body wasn't his, there was fat, and there was the strength he never knew before.

The gravestone moves, and he comes out—Eddard Stark, now in the body of King Robert Baratheon.

Flames of vengeance engraved in his head, this is the story of the Northern fury.

[A/N: Since this one won the poll, here it is. Now, whether it's a long series or a short series depends on you all. So make sure to leave a like and comment your thoughts after reading.

As always, thanks for reading.]

Written by MrPlotThickens.
Aided by Ms.Squirtle.

____________

GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag 1 - The Wolf In Stag's Clothing

All my life I have done my duty justly, and with honor. 

"Traitor!" 

"Coward!"

"Traitor!"

I gave my all to serve this realm. To honor Robert's last wish.

As the last of the chants died out, Eddard was brought to the stone platform meant for his execution. The Kingsguard stood there proudly, the gold cloaks crowding the vicinity while the boy King and his scheming mother stood with smirking faces, his daughter tearful.

"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King." Eddard looked at Sansa once to remind himself that this was to save her and Arya's lives. "I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of gods and men. I betrayed the faith of my King and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect and defend his children, but before his blood was cold I plotted to murder his son and seize the throne for myself."

"Traitor!" 

Stones came hurling at him with the resuming chants. In Eddard's eyes, there was no hope of reversing this situation. 

Catelyn was right. Wolves don't fare well in the South. Eddard remembered the events that had led to it. Of all the things he now firmly believed that showing mercy, honor, and pity to Cersei was the wrong thing to do. 

"Let the High Septon and Baelor the blessed bear witness to what I say; Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm." 

Eddard finished speaking and gave himself up to his fate. 

Right then, the filthy maester of a man, Pycelle, came forward to speak. "As we sin, so do we suffer. This man has confessed his crimes in sight of gods and men. The gods are just, but beloved Bealor taught us they can also be merciful. What is to be done with this traitor, your grace?"

"Kill him!" 

"Kill him!"

They know not what evil they have invited into their lives. Eddard pitied the blind smallfolk. But again, he wondered if his pity was the root of all his and his family's misery now. 

Joffrey smiled brightly and waved at the crowd, loving the attention from the people. The adoration that he had always desired. "My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the night's watch. Stripped of all titles and powers, he would serve the realm in permanent exile. And my lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father… But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished, Ser Ilyn! Bring me his head!"

"No! Stop!" Sansa cried.

Cersei made meaningless attempts to stop her savage son. 

"Daddy!" Sansa cried harder. 

"Traitor!"

"Traitor!"

Eddard accepted his fate, allowing the men to put him down on his knees. To his ears, neither Sansa's cries nor the crowd's chants reached. His thoughts were all to himself, wondering why this was happening. 

Where did I go wrong? What could I have done differently?

Thud!

####

"Haaaaah!~"

A lone man's gasp echoed in a stormy castle's crypt. The space was tight, the air dense, and light absent. Eyes that should have remained shut now gazed again. A beating heart the body regained. 

Cliffs met waves with thunder's might, forests dense in the stormy night. Far in the south, distant from the home of wolves, the roots of the Old Gods once again spread. Blessings to the brave, a second chance bestowed upon the dead. 

Where am I?

Eddard Stark tried to sit up but only hit his face against something cold and hard. He tried to measure his surroundings and it felt narrow, like a coffin. 

Is this the afterlife? 

Grrr…!

Stones? He heard the noise, echoing in his ears as if someone was grinding heavy stones atop each other. 

"...ou will be beheaded for this sin!"

"...stop this insanity!"

I don't remember these voices. He heard muffled talks amongst people and tried to free himself. He pushed up in that cramped space, trying to get out of wherever he was. Afterlife couldn't be just this… a dark box. Ugh… my body… I feel different… heavy…

"...Push, men! Push and see the miracle yourself."

"...not sully the crypt!"

Grrr~

Eddard gave it his all and tried to move whatever was above him. He could already feel it sliding to the side, making that stony grinding noise. He quickly realized the voices outside were aiding him. So he tried to push the stone in the same direction. 

Grrr~

At last, he felt a fresh breath of air fill his lungs. Far more pleasant, cold, and smelling of life. But he could see nothing as a bright fiery light shrouded his view, leaving his eyes squeezed shut. 

"Your Grace!" a man's roar resounded. 

"H-How is this possible!" 

"The Lord is mighty!" 

"The king is alive!" 

Eddard forced his eyes to open upon those words. This was clearly not the afterlife. But being called 'Grace' was new. "Errr… Who's there?"

"Your Grace, it's me! Cortnay Penrose! Lord Renley named me the Castellan of Storm's End!" 

Storm's End? Eddard frowned and blinked frantically to adjust his eyes. Soon he noticed an old man, completely bald with a red, spade-shaped beard and a weathered face. What's happening?

"Ugh…" Eddard looked down, feeling heavy in his body. He raised his palms to look at them and he failed to recognize them. They looked bigger and portlier. But then he noticed it wasn't just his hands but everything. His belly was protruding out, everything felt heavy, dirty, and tall.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Your Grace." 

Eddard looked up at the other man. To his surprise, it wasn't a torch he was holding but rather a sword that was on fire. A tall, fat man in flapping red robes.

"Thoros of Myr at your service." Thoros voiced and saluted. "R'hllor commanded me to come here. The fire burns within you now."

I'm alive? Eddard realized. But it didn't make sense as he was now sure this wasn't his mortal body. Grace? Robert? 

"Where… What happened?" Eddard grunted, unable to recognize his own voice.

Cortnay quickly approached Eddard and gave his shoulder for support. "Please come with me, Your Grace. I'll have the Maester see to your health. I shall send ravens to Lord Stannis and Lord Renly immediately."

This is Robert's body! Eddard was almost certain now. What is happening? Wh… My head.

"Your Grace!"

Eddard didn't know what happened next as he felt his eyelids lose all their strength and close once again. His legs gave away and fell forward, his entire body like a lifeless doll. His thoughts faded away too fast, leaving him empty-headed in slumber. 

How is this possible? 

Questions upon questions, that was all Eddard could afford. 

####

Unknown how much time had passed, Eddard opened his eyes again. A pulsating headache agonized him the entire time, leaving him gripping his face.

He looked down at himself lying on the bed, grateful to the moonlight seeping through the window. He could feel his bloated belly, his enormous body, and his messy beard. It felt lethargic, as if even the tiniest movement was a chore. But it didn't seem to be because of exhaustion, it was the normal state of this body. 

As much as you failed this realm, you failed yourself, Robert. Eddard sighed while sitting up against the pillows. He glanced towards the window at the edge of the room and saw the distant stormy sea. This is all real. 

"Cortnay!" Eddard called for the Castellan. It felt wrong to be using that voice, unnatural somehow. "Cortnay!"

"Your Grace!" The door opened and the bald Castellan came running into the room alone. "Are you alright? Should I call the Maester?"

Eddard shook his head. "What happened?"

"Y-Your Grace! That man broke into the crypt secretly. I found him in time and tried to stop him. But he… He said you are still alive and can be saved. I didn't know he was telling the truth, I shouldn't have stopped them." Cortnay explained everything. 

"You were doing your duty. How long was I in there? What happened in my absence?" Asked Eddard, trying to make some sense of where and when he was. "Do you know what's happening in King's Landing?"

Cortnay nodded strongly and quickly returned to shut the door first before approaching the bed again. 

"Madness, Your Grace! They took Lord Eddard Stark's head, on the orders of the new King, they did. Said he was a traitor, aiming to usurp the throne for himself. Lies, Your Grace! Can't see a man like Lord Stark doing such a thing. Yet he confessed, right there before the smallfolk… Now, King Joffrey's on the throne, and Queen Cersei’s lurking in the shadows, pulling the strings."

Eddard breathed deeply, trying to control his anger from rising. In this new body, it felt harder to keep his emotions in check. The unhealthy life that Robert had lived made it easy for the heart to tremble quicker. "What of my brothers?"

"They prepare for war, Your Grace. Lord Stannis and Lord Renly both lay a claim to the Iron Throne. The Reach, they're backing Lord Renly, but folks whisper that Stannis is using dark magic from a Red Priestess. Up North, young Robb Stark has called for his banners and is trying to march south. The Riverlands, they'll likely follow him. Meanwhile, the Lannisters, they've taken over King's Landing and are readying for battle as we speak. 

“They have even discarded Ser Barristan Selmy from Kingsguard." Cortnay finished explaining. Although not much time had passed, merely a few weeks since Robert's death, much had changed across the realm. 

Eddard felt all those words sharper than arrows. He knew Cersei was a whore and all the golden-haired children were bastards. Yet, somehow the bastards had taken the throne and now pursued the ruin of the realm. His own son was thrust into a war. 

Tiredly, he tried to get out of bed. Getting used to this new body was not easy. But somewhere deep in his heart, he had already made a decision. "Cortnay, see to it that the castle halls are emptied. The Maester and those who know of my survival—escort them to the dungeon, but treat them with respect and care. Until I stand once more in King’s Landing, this must remain a secret."

Cortnay agreed immediately. "As you command, Your Grace."

"Ready a few men. I shall pen a missive to Ser Barristan Selmy. He must not depart these shores; his pledge binds him to my service." Eddard's voice held the weight of command, though it lacked Robert's bluster. But Cortnay didn't mind. "Arrange a nourishing meal three times a day, and fetch my full armor and warhammer. I can’t abide in this condition any longer."

Seeing that the King had nothing more to say, Cortnay left quickly to fulfill the command. 

Finally, alone in the large room, Eddard walked around to get used to the body. But eventually, he found himself standing before a large mirror. It shook him, unable to see the face he was used to in it, instead, there was Robert's form. 

Eddard touched his face and felt the beard. Any illusion left that this was a dream completely shattered. This was his reality now, as absurd as it may be. But when he looked down he couldn't help but feel disgusted.

He quickly discarded his oversized tunic. Hairy chest, a massive bloated belly. He could feel there were muscles beneath all that fat. The body had seen better days, no doubt. But right now, he doubted he could even see his cock below without bending forward.

"Forgive me for this, my old friend." Eddard felt somewhat guilty about using this body. "I didn't want this."

Eddard reminisced about the old days. From the time he fostered at the Vale with Robert. The banters, the friendly spars, their discussions about women. 

"I am…" Eddard looked into the mirror, finding those blue eyes sparkling. If not for the old memories of Lord Stark, he would have forgotten himself and accepted himself as Robert as he gained the King's memories too. "You fool… Still obsessed with Lyanna."

He could see what sort of life Robert lived in the memories. It lacked honor or any semblance of nobleness. A crass, heavy drinker, and an addiction to whores. Married life a mess, a wife who avoided sharing the bed.

Eddard sighed and shut his eyes for a moment. Oh Catelyn, forgive me. But I must do this. Robb is too emotional to win this war. Sansa and Arya need me.

Once he opened his eyes again, they no longer held any doubts or confusion. No longer did he search for any semblance of Eddard Stark in the mirror. 

"I am Robert Baratheon, King of the Seven Kingdoms!"

But then he looked down out of discomfort and grunted. 

"I'm fat…"

####

It was impossible to lose all that fat in one month, nor did Robert (Eddard) have any delusions that he could. But getting in better shape was an attainable goal. Getting used to the hammer, and once again fitting in his armor was possible.

On the fifteenth day after his shocking resurrection, Ser Barristan Selmy arrived at Storm's End. The man believed it was an elaborate trick, or perhaps a plot to kill him. However, once he read the letter he couldn't suppress his curiosity. 

The handwriting matched, and the various little details in the letter were only known to him and King Robert. So he rode non-stop and arrived at the Storm's End.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ser Barristan waved the letter in Ser Cortnay's face. "Has that Red Woman inflicted you with madness?"

Cortnay didn't respond to the provocations. "Follow me and see for yourself."

Having no other choice, Ser Barristan silently followed the Castellan deeper into the castle. To his surprise, he failed to find any Baratheon soldiers patrolling the hallways. The place was extremely dark and desolate, not even the servants were there. 

He wondered if death awaited him ahead. 

"Enter this room, Ser Barristan." Cortnay opened the door and gestured. "He wishes to speak with you alone."

One hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist, Ser Barristan walked into the room. Right away, he searched the room with his eyes, lavish and huge. The grunting sounds of a man quickly grabbed his attention. 

Tall, broad-shouldered, massive body, shoulder-length hair, and fat. He glanced at the shirtless man swinging the warhammer of Robert Baratheon. 

"You dare run away from your duty, Ser Barristan?" Robert boomed as he continued to swing the warhammer. He stood there shirtless, his belly still bulging but slightly less than before. As for his beard, he had cut it off and left only a stubble. 

Ser Barristan's eyes went wide. It wasn't easy to mimic someone's voice. He considered himself old, but he knew his ears weren't wrong. "Y-Your Grace?"

"Hah!" Robert finally slammed the warhammer on the stone floor and left it standing there. He turned around to face the finest Knight. "Is that how you stand before your king?"

Thud!

Ser Barristan quickly took to the knee. "Y-Your Grace… How is this possible? I saw you… W-What happened?"

Robert sighed. The past fifteen days were enough to come up with a plausible theory. "My survival is what happened—My body was declared dead before it went cold. Thrown into the coffin before I could take my last breath. Buried into the crypt here!"

Ser Barristant shivered at the revelation. It meant Robert was buried for a few weeks at least. The man standing before him had almost returned from the dead. "Your Grace, Pycelle had chec—"

"By the Seven, I’ll have you executed for taking that traitor's name! He's a lapdog of the Lannisters!" Robert bellowed angrily. "Ned… My brother… Why didn't you honor my word?"

Calm… I must remain calm. He had to remind himself. This body is too quick to anger. I am Robert Star… Robert Baratheon. 

"I was outnumbered." Ser Barristan gazed up at Robert's face in utter shame. "Queen Cersei tore the letter, Your Grace. Lannisters had control of the City Watch. Lord Baelish betrayed Lord Stark, himself placing the knife at the throat."

"That whore! That bastard!" Robert cursed, but it was merely the truth. "Joffrey is no son of mine."

Ser Barristan felt his heart skink. He had heard the rumors plenty, and being so old he had seen enough too. Jaime Lannister was under his command and he had been aware of the occasional disappearance of the Knight at night. "T-The rumors…?"

"True!" Robert boomed. "Before I fell into a trance, Ned had revealed the truth to me. That whore birthed her brother's demon spawns—not mine! All three of them! Jon knew and was killed… Ned found out and got killed!"

Forgive me for lying through your mouth, Robert. I need this man's loyalty.

Ser Barristan's shoulder slumped as his head fell too. He felt deceived by the bastard who had no claim on the throne. He felt ashamed of not standing by Lord Stark. "I… I failed to honor my oath, Your Grace. I shall accept whatever punishment you deem fit."

"Ride with me to King's Landing in a month! I'm taking my throne back and cleaning the filth from the Red Keep!” Robert ordered and turned back to pick up his hammer. "Until then, come and spar with me. I've been silent for too long... no more."

Ser Barristan looked at Robert's back and felt somewhat excited. He had seen Robert in action in the past, and now seeing him swing the hammer with such devotion and resolution—Was this the return of the Demon of the Trident?

"As you command, my King."

####

Dragonstone,

"What do you make of this?" Stannis handed the raven he had just received from Storm's End. "Renly's scheme?" 

The Red Priestess standing by his side took the parchment and read it carefully. Her unblemished face maintained a cold expression, yet her red lips seemed to smile. As if she saw through it, she shook her head. "It's real… One of ours found him and brought him back. The Lord works in mysterious ways."

Stannis frowned. "So Robert is alive."

"And blessed." The Red Priestess added. 

"This makes everything worthless! Robert must learn the truth about Cersei and those bastards!" Stannis, always a stern man, made up his mind. "I shall meet him in Kingswood."

The Red Priestess added nothing. This was an unforeseen event even for her. She needed answers. She needed her lord's guidance before taking another step. 

####

As the month came to pass, Robert donned his antlered armor, appearing like a giant. He mounted a large black stallion, his warhammer hanging beside him. 

Behind him, fifty knights mounted their horses, albeit none of them held any House Baratheon sigils. Or else, even getting into the city would become challenging. 

"The men are ready, Your Grace." Ser Barristan remained beside his king, armed to the teeth in an armor almost similar to a Kingsguard.

Robert gave a nod and swung the reins of the horse. A little after the fifty of them left Storm's End, another army of five hundred men exited the castle and began marching northward, avoiding the Kingsroad as much as they could. 

Since the Kingsroad started from Storm's End itself, it wasn't hard to hide the presence of fifty men. Once Robert entered Kingswood, he led the men away from the road that cut through the forest and traveled East by the riverbank of Wendwater River. 

Soon they arrived at the point where the river connected with one of its tributaries. 

"Halt!" Robert bellowed at the sight of activity up ahead. "Arms ready!"

Robert slowed the pace and approached ahead. He noticed some smoke rising from a tent, barely noticeable with so many trees around. Eventually, he saw a few tents by the river and armored men guarding the surroundings. 

"Stannis!" Robert bellowed before the guards could see him coming. He lifted the visor off his helmet, revealing his Baratheon features. 

Stannis' men became agitated and formed a close formation with their swords and spears out, forming a wall in Robert's way. 

He'll see through me if I'm not careful.

"Seven hells, is that how you treat your brother?" Robert gave off anger with that roar. 

Just then, the guards began moving aside, making way. Soon after an almost bald man came out followed by a ripe woman in all red. 

Robert frowned seeing the Red Priestess. The rumors were true, he reckoned. "Since when did you start entertaining wenches?"

Stoic and unashamedly plain, Stannis stopped a few meters away from Robert's horse. He stared at his elder brother's face, trying to see if this was really him or an imposter. But in his heart, he knew this was the real deal. Ser Barristan beside him didn't leave room to argue. 

"How did you survive?"

"I was never dead, Stannis. I was in a deep slumber, buried in the crypt alive." Robert answered, avoiding glancing at the Red Priestess. 

Stannis merely nodded and waved at his soldiers behind to lower their weapons. "Your return is a welcome sight. A bastard born of incest between Cersei and Jaime Lannister now sits on the throne, Your Grace."

However, Stannis failed to receive the shocked or angered reaction from Robert. "You already know?"

"Ned told me before I fell into a trance. I tried to right the wrong by appointing Ned as the regent…" Robert replied and glanced towards the direction of the Red Keep. "That whore…"

Stannis finally saw the look of rage and it soothed his heart. "What's your plan, Your Grace?"

"I'd love to see my hammer meet their skulls. But that would leave the old lion with his pride intact." Robert spewed venom with his words. "I want the Lannisters to bleed and beg. Follow me into King's Landing. I'll need men to rid the city of this Lannister plague."

Crack!~

"Attack!"

"Kill Stannis… Robert?!" 

Out of nowhere, a dozen or so armored men appeared out of the woods. Their swords out, their horses charging forward, bodies fully armored. But they stopped on their own before they could even reach Stannis and the others. 

"Is that really you?!" 

Robert sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Renly, you damned fool!"

"Robert!" Renly jumped off the horse and ran towards Robert's horse. "You're alive!"

Robert measured his little brother, the one who had been the most cherished and spoiled. Yet, who could have known he held grand aspirations in his heart? Despite having no claim to the throne directly after him, the man wanted it. 

Why be the King when you can't sire children? Eddard wondered inside. He was well aware of Renly's choice of partners. 

"Seven hells, Renly! You allied with the Tyrells? I never knew you were so desperate for my throne." Robert held himself from speaking too humbly or smartly, and maintained a rude and straightforward tone. "Both of you… scheming like damned vipers! I thought you had more spine than that!"

Stannis and Renly glanced at each other. They both knew the problematic situation they were in now. After having announced war against each other, they had now lost the very cause they were fighting for—The throne was no longer empty. 

"I simply don't believe Stannis would have been a better King, Robert," Renly replied. 

Stannis glared at his younger brother, the one he held in contempt. He didn’t harbor fondness for Robert either, for his elder brother had long dismissed his deeds and saw fit to bestow Storm's End upon Renly. "That does not grant you the right to disregard the ancient traditions, the line of succession."

"A King must possess charm, boldness, and a quick mind—all qualities you profoundly lack," Renly retorted.

"Enough!" Robert roared, his voice echoing off the trees. "I'll set this straight. According to the traditions, seniority takes precedence over all else. Stannis is my heir until I have trueborn children of my own. And Renly, you have Storm's End—what more do you want? You'd do well to marry and produce some nephews and nieces for me before you start eyeing the throne."

Renly quickly looked down in embarrassment, realizing his brother was well aware of his lifestyle choices. "I… I understand, Your Grace."

"We are Baratheons!" Robert thundered, though he nearly slipped and said Starks instead. "Ours is the Fury, and those bastards in the Red Keep need a sharp reminder of it. I want my family united now, not tearing each other apart. I'll ask this but once; Are you with me, or will you continue to chase the throne, even if it means spilling your own brother's blood?"

After a long, silent yet noisy moment of birds chirping, and the river gushing, the two brothers looked at each other and nodded.

"You're the King." Stannis declared. "I'm the Master of Ships."

"I'm the Master of Law," Renly added. "What's the plan?"

Robert didn't waste a moment and began ordering them around. "Renly, return to your camp and bring all the Stormlands' soldiers. King's Landing needs a bloody cleaning. Stannis, send someone to haul your fleet to the capital. Until I move against the Lannisters, keep your mouths shut and play dumb."

"Consider it done!" Renly obliged and quickly retreated with his men. 

Soon, Stannis had his men pack up and get ready to march. Robert didn't allow a large entourage to form, however. Getting into the city was the main objective. 

This will end as long as I can enter the Red Keep.

####

King's Landing, Red Keep.

Numerous chattering mouths, all gaze fixed on the king and his prey of the day. The well-dressed boy king with his crown, and a young girl weeping for mercy before him. Yet it was only she who felt devastated while the rest drew pleasure from her misfortune.

"You're here to answer for your brother's latest treason!" Joffrey proclaimed as he stood with his crossbow aimed at the girl, at Sansa Stark. 

Eyes swollen red from countless nights spent crying, she pleaded. "Your Grace, whatever my traitor brother has done, I had no part. You know that. I beg you—"

Joffrey scoffed at that and lowered his crossbow. "Ser Lancel, tell her of this outrage."

Right away, Lancel Lannister stepped out of the crowd. "Using some vile sorcery, your brother fell on Stafford Lannister with an army of wolves. Thousands of good men were butchered. After the slaughter, the Northmen feasted on the flesh of the slain!"

"Killing you would send your brother a message." Joffrey raised the crossbow once again. "But my Mother insists on keeping you alive. Stand—So we'll have to send your brother a message some other way."

Joffrey returned to his royal throne and commanded his loyal Kingsguard. "Boros! Meryn! Leave her face. I like her pretty."

Right away, two sizable Kingsguards, fully armored, walked towards Sansa menacingly. The short, fat, and almost bald-headed Boros moved first, slamming a fist into Sansa's belly, driving the air out of her. 

"Aaah!" Sansa failed to even plead and doubled over, clenching her belly with her hands.

But Boros held no mercy and grabbed her hair. Right then Ser Meryn drew his sword as if meaning to cut open her throat. But he laid his blade flat and hit her across her thighs, almost breaking her legs from the sheer force. 

Sansa screamed, tears welling in her eyes. It wasn't the first time being hit, so she prayed that it'd be over soon. But she soon lost count of the blows. 

"Meryn, my lady is overdressed." Joffrey, in his vile desire, got up and ordered. "Make her naked!"

Meryn wasted no time and shoved a meaty hand down the front of Sansa's bodice. With a hard yank, the silk came tearing away, baring Sansa all naked to the waist. Sansa covered her breasts with her hands. But she heard Joffrey continue to order his men. 

"Beat her bloody," Joffrey said, "we'll see how her brother fancies."

With a grim smirk, Ser Boros approached Sansa and gripped her red hair in a bunch. As if a game he had just caught, he pulled on her hair and forced her to stand.

Ser Meryn seized the opportunity and hit her belly yet again, leaving Sansa gasping, her arms falling to her belly, laying her uncovered chest revealed to the crowd. This was the first time her honor had been trampled like this so publicly, so inhumanly. 

Clop!

Clop!

"Keep hitting her!" Joffrey roared with pleasure, his eyes wide in excitement. "I want to see her bloody!"

Clop!

Clop!

Amidst Sansa's cries, the crowd's chattering, and Joffrey's demands, everyone failed to notice the clapping hooves of a horse increasingly approaching. All were unaware of the chilling fury that had entered the ancient castle. 

"Hah! That will show her brother! The traitor!" Joffrey almost jumped in delight at the great entertainment. 

Shhhh…!

"You treacherous cunts!" A roar thundered from the entrance, and a horse charged in. "Unhand her—haaaa!"

Boom!

Antlers on his head, the warhammer in his hands. The horse dragged its feet as it came to a halt right beside the tormented girl. The hammer swung high in the air and once it landed, it caved right into Ser Boros' head. 

The entire skull exploded at the monstrous might behind that hammer, its pointy side entirely dug into the man's skull, cracking it, leaving it a mess of flesh and bones. 

"And you!" the giant of a man roared and jumped down from his horse. "Face the king's justice!" 

Bam!

Ser Meryn failed to perry the warhammer with his sword. The hammer struck him right in the chest, throwing him into the air. Once he landed down on his back, he only saw the warhammer already on its way to his chest. 

"Haaa!"

The metallic blows resounded loudly in the throne room. The chest armor caved in, leaving Ser Meryn gurgling blood. 

"Haaa!"

The warhammer never lost its way and continued to rumble down. With each strike, the armor caved further and further in, killing the man gruesomely. Yet the fury remained high. 

"Haaa!"

The next time the warhammer landed, it struck Ser Meryn in the face, shattering everything apart in a single blow. Eyes popped out, his teeth tumbled around. Blood painted the floor red, brain matter adorned the rest. 

"Haaaaa!" Finally, the man stopped with a roar and looked towards the throne, at Joffrey. 

The boy stood there in freight, his entire being shivering. He could see the face but the rest could not. 

"Boy, return to your mother and suckle her tits. You still have much growing to do!"

Thud!

At last, Robert walked over the crushed skull of Ser Meryn and approached the Iron Throne. Maintaining his proud demeanor, he climbed the stairs, leaving bloodied footprints the whole way. 

"Have you gone deaf, boy?" Robert boomed at Joffrey. 

Clack!

But all of a sudden, Ser Sandor Clegane stood in front of Joffrey, protecting him, looking discomforted, questioning if this was the right thing to do.

"Are you a traitor?" Robert glared at the tall man. 

"No, Your Grace," Sandor answered.

"Then step aside and let me educate my son," Robert said the last word with a hint of ridicule. 

Slap!

Clegane moved, and Robert slapped Joffrey on the right cheek. He hoped he shattered his ears with that. 

Slap!

Robert slapped him on the left this time. 

Slap!

He didn't stop until he saw Joffrey bleeding from his lips, ears, and also nose. Not until he saw visible swollen traces. 

"Leave!" Robert bellowed. 

Joffrey shed tears and ran away like his life depended on it. Wailing for Cersei, he vanished through one of the doors, leaving behind the confused crowd. 

At last, Robert turned around and faced the crowd. But first, he walked down again and approached Sansa, crying on the floor in a mess, helplessly covering her bosom to save her dignity.

Sansa! Robert could hardly hold back his tears and rage, conflicted between being Eddard, her father, and the King he was acting as. My little girl… What have they done to you? 

Tearing his cloak apart, Robert covered Sansa completely and pulled her into his embrace. Gently, he patted her head and let her feel protected. 

This was the first time in King's Landing she felt this sort of warmth from anyone. This sense of safety. It was the last drop that broke the dam as her eyes bawled out, her wails echoing in the hall. 

"Shhh... gods be damned," Robert could feel the tugs on his heart, knowing he could never hear her calling him father again. Eddard Stark was dead. "Shhh... It's all right now, my dear. You're going home. Arya too. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New."

Sansa cried harder and hugged Robert back. He didn't let her go until he heard her wails decreasing. The entire time he looked at the faces of the onlookers in the back. With a mere nod of his head, he saw Stannis move swiftly and arrest Lancel Lannister. Following that, a few more Kingsguards were taken into custody, with Ser Barristan pointing at the Lannister loyalists. 

"What is the meaning of this?!" 

Robert stood up and looked behind. There she was, Cersei Lannister, storming into the throne room with Joffrey hiding behind her like a scared weasel. "Shut your mouth, woman!"

Cersei instinctively took a few steps back, her eyes agape. She almost fell back as her heels stepped on her silky robes. She always dressed well ever since becoming the queen. Yet, all her dreams and hard work seemed worthless now. 

"R-Robert? No! Imposter! Guards!" Cersei began screeching right away. "Apprehend this criminal! T-Th… Why aren't you moving?!" 

Despite her orders, not a single Kingsguard stepped forward. They had seen Robert kill two of them with his hammer with ease with their own eyes. The same was the case with the few men of the City Watch there. Instinctively, they had all accepted this was King Robert.

Robert glared at Cersei and returned to the throne. He sat down and watched Cersei stand in front of the throne. "Do you have any shame, woman? To bury your royal husband while he still breathes?"

"N-No… Pycelle!" Cersei stuttered, her face paler than the moon. "N-No! You're an imposter!"

Robert sneered at her refusal to believe. "Return to your chambers, Cersei. I will have a word with you later. First, I must…"

Seeing the rest of the significant members of the Small Council had entered, Robert stood up again. He also grabbed the warhammer and walked towards Varys first. But then he looked towards Petyr Baelish. 

I should have known his true nature. How was I so blind even after knowing the history?

"Ser Barristan, what of him?" Robert inquired. 

Ser Barristan gave an honest account. "Lord Baelish betrayed Lord Stark and attacked him from behind with a knife."

Robert narrowed his gaze at Petyr, who stood before him calmly. He knew the man likely believed he was safe and the King wouldn’t do something against him so openly. He would have been right if not for a different soul inside Robert’s body. 

“You did warn me not to trust you,” Robert whispered and acted before Petyr could react. "TREASON!" 

Robert boomed, and the warhammer once again soared high.

BOOM!

Yet again, a bloody trail formed once it landed. Petyr Baelish's head caved into his neck and shoulders, and both his eyes popped out while a massive hole atop formed a fountain of blood. He never got a chance to speak a single word or even raise his hands. 

For this, I’m willing to face all consequences. He accepted his actions. Petyr had to be killed.

Thud!

The dead body fell back, lifeless. 

Once again, Robert turned around and walked over to the throne to take a seat. "Ser Barristan, take back the charge of Kingsguard. Stannis, do your job."

At last, Robert glanced around at the people in the hall. He thanked his fate that the Throne Room wasn't empty. This made it easier for the rumors to spread and make them believable. 

"Hear your king and spread the word! Robert Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm has returned! The real traitors shall soon be rooted out and hung! King's justice shall prevail!"

Too tired from the travel, the exertion, and the acting, Robert ended the court and proceeded to leave with Sansa, leaving Cersei standing shocked with Joffrey. Varys followed behind closely, hoping to gain back the favor of the surviving King. The realm was soon going to find a moment of peace, he could feel it. Enough peace to smoothly execute his plans. 

However, instead of holding a Small Council, Robert only saw Sansa to her bedchamber and then proceeded to his own. He left Ser Barristan out and entered to rest. After seeing Sansa in that condition, he was deeply worried for Arya. 

I must stop Robb before he does something foolish.

Robert quickly removed the armor and changed into a simple tunic and breeches before sitting by the table and writing a missive. Not as the King, but as Ned's close friend, he wrote to Catelyn and Robb both. 

While giving his apologies for what happened to Ned, he asked the North to send a strong entourage to escort Sansa back home. However, he also asked for Jaimie Lannister to be brought to King's Landing as a prisoner.

I know Robb. He might release Jaimie. Eddard was acting like Robert, but he was no fool like his strong-bodied friend. Albeit putting honor above everything else, Eddard understood the intricacies of politics. He just never acted upon them. Where is Arya?

Wondering about his youngest daughter, he walked over to the bed and lay down there. He never realized when he closed his eyes and began seeing a dream. A dream that felt so absurd and yet probable.

J-Jon? On the throne? But I promised Lyanna… But Jon has the utmost claim. Dragons? 

It was a dream full of mismatched events that made no sense. Although his body rested, he could feel his mind was far from calming down. 

Jon's oath must be stopped! Robert's eyes shot open all of a sudden. It was mostly dark in the room now. Night? 

"Ummh… Your Grace, you woke up?" 

Robert looked towards the foot of the bed and frowned. There was Cersei, her golden locks were hanging unkempt as she slowly undid her dress and let it fall in a heap around her dainty feet. She pivoted on her feet a few times, as if letting Robert relish in her form. The very next moment she crawled onto the bed. 

From Robert’s memories… She has never done this before. 

He continued to watch her to see what she was planning. But even though he remained headstrong, it was impossible for his loins to not react to Cersei Lannister. Her bodily curves were alluring, her skin noble and spotless. Her breasts dangled as she crawled, sizable with pink pebbles of love. Her cunt was clean, but certainly no longer tight after birthing incest spawns. 

"Please relax, Your Grace," Cersei voiced calmly, a little too calm for the situation she was in. "Forgive me for what happened in court. I was… too excited to see my husband again."

The memories don’t match. She never spoke to Robert like this. 

"Hmmm…" Cersei slid over Robert's knees, pressing her soft bosom on his legs until she reached his loins. At that point, she made quick work of her hands and untied his breeches. "Oooh… Big!"

She's seen it plenty. Why this reaction? 

"Mmmm…" Cersei fetched the sizable, throbbing cock and began stroking it quickly. But her hands moved strangely, waving the entire length left and right, taking breaks between each stroke as if…

Looking for something? Mole? Trying to see if I'm an imposter? 

"Let me have a taste, Your Gra—Unnnngh!" Cersei slid further on his legs and lowered her beautiful face on the bulging cock that refused to fit between her grips. Her lips had to stretch far and wide to even take the cockhead in. 

This whor—No, I must maintain my cool.

"Mh… Ummmmm~" Cersei moaned while trying to coat his knob with her tongue inside. It seemed impossible to take any more of him in as her hands continued to stroke the rest of the length, his peak erection something she had always dreaded.

"Your Grace." Cersei relaxed her mouth with a pop and looked up at him, a faint smirk was visible on her lips. "Please don't release Sansa yet… Not until Jaime is her—"

Somehow, all the little barriers that he had built to control his emotions collapsed that instant. Mention of Sansa and Jaime at the same time enraged him and seemingly Robert's body too. Cersei still had the guts to worry for her traitor brother after ruining his entire family.

"Aaaakh!" Cersei gasped and choked. Two big, strong hands suddenly pressed her face down on the monstrous length with weight. She gazed towards Robert, teary-eyed, seeking his mercy. But Robert coldly pressed her face harder, stretching her lips to the limit. 

"Hmmmm… Mmm!" She felt the thickness choke her, the bulbous cockhead pressing against the back of her throat. Breathing became impossible, yet the King continued to shove more of his length in.

But then Robert's hand gripped Cersei’s golden locks roughly and pulled her face up. He coldly glared at her ruined, teary face. "You incestuous whore!"

Cersei almost forgot to take a breath or struggle against the hand clawing her hair and looked at him in horror. "R-R-Rober…" 

"I know, whore… I know plenty!"