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GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag 14 - Wild Cunt & Lion’s Folly
🕑 Added 2024-11-23 19:19:19 +0000 UTC"Cat?!"
Robert looked at the door and sat back up, getting off the side of the bed. He quickly opened the door and saw Catelyn standing in her fur gown from the feast.
"May I speak with you, Your Grace?"
Robert stepped aside and invited her in. But to his surprise, the tall, ripe woman walked over to his bed and sat at the foot of the bed. She looked back at him, her large blue eyes seemed clear and unwavering.
"What happened?" Robert asked and closed the door behind him.
After a faint moment of silence, Catelyn stared into his eyes. "I… I thought of your proposal, Your Grace."
"Which one?" He already knew what she was talking about, but his heart had changed. At that time it was his uncontrolled emotions.
"Regarding the proposal to join our houses… You are a widow, as am I, and so I find myself contemplating the possibility of such a union." Catelyn, as if ashamed, kept her voice low. Even when she felt Robert sitting down beside her, she didn't look. "You rushed to protect House Stark… I think you're an honorable man, Your Grace."
Not anymore, Cat. Eddard's shadow has long been diluted by the blood that runs in this body. Robert sighed deeply and formulated his words. He came to the North to protect his sons, not just for Catelyn or some other greater reason.
"You're willing to wed me?" Robert asked her.
"Wed you, and birth you heirs if I still can," she responded.
Noticing the lack of hesitation, Robert saw through her mental preparations.
All her responses are planned and rehearsed. Seeing Robb's incompetence must have her worried.
While it warmed his heart to see her willing, it soured his mind at the same time. Knowing that he sat there as Robert Baratheon, not Eddard Stark, and Catelyn was willing to lay with him. It felt wrong and borderline infidelity. To him she was Catelyn, but to her, he wasn't Ned.
"You're a brave one, Cat, I’ll give you that—willing to do whatever it takes for your family. But I was wrong before. A marriage between us? It’d do neither of us any good."
Catelyn shot a quick glance at Robert. She thought he'd be happy to hear her reply. "Why the change of heart?"
Common sense, Cat. That's what I squeezed out of this body.
Robert decided to pour water on all her hopes by pushing her away. "I will be honest with you, Cat. You're a remarkable woman, proud and feminine, beautiful despite the years. Marrying our houses was a fine idea, but more than that, I also desired you as a woman—to bear me heirs if possible. But most certainly, I wished to bed you. It was my incapability to control my dark desires. But I won't make such a mistake anymore."
He simply confessed to wanting to fuck her, nothing else, as it fit Robert's image. For a woman of Catelyn's stature, it was the highest form of insult. To be looked at like a common whore.
As expected, her beautiful, blue eyes widened. She speechlessly stared at Robert's face before slowly getting up. Without saying anything, she began walking towards the door.
This is better for us. Robert told himself, fighting against the instincts that urged him to go and embrace her.
"Good night, Your Grace," Catelyn whispered and finally left through the door, not even glancing behind once.
Robert didn't mind and let it be. His goal for now was securing the North from whatever the Ironborn and most certainly the Lannisters had planned. The loss of Moat Cailin was an ominous sign of a greater malignancy.
"Bring me wine," Robert ordered whoever was outside, be a servant or a Kingsguard, and then moved over to the table. He sat down and began writing some letters for Stannis.
Knock! Knock!
"Your Grace, I brought you wine." Came a feminine voice from the other side.
Robert grunted and allowed her in, too engrossed in writing. Plans needed to be changed and warnings had to be made against Tywin's plots. Whatever the man was planning was aimed at revenge, not some grand ambition.
"Pour me a cup," he ordered and finally looked up. But then he froze, quickly remembering who the woman was.
The Wildling? What is she doing here? Who let her in?
Robert, or the man from the North in that body, remembered the woman. Initially ferocious, but eventually calmed down and learned to live at Winterfell as a servant. Her brown hair was shaggy, however, and her clothes were dirty rags.
He watched as Osha, if he recalled correctly, poured him a cup of wine. She lingered in his chamber longer than needed, slowly pouring wine while giving him side glances. Her face was cleaner that evening, her pale and unruly features visible. Tall and lean, she stood a head taller than Robb, yet much shorter than him.
"Why’d you flee south of the Wall, girl?" Robert questioned her, chuckling as she jolted at being caught. She was clearly not a servant meant to serve the King. He had previously granted her limited freedom.
Osha, with a hint of fear, yet the usual Wildling toughness, slid the cup of wine towards Robert and then stood straight in front of his table as if showcasing her tall, slender frame. "I… I heard your golden guard demand wine… I just brought it."
Robert put the wine glass on the side, not planning on sipping it. Instead, he relaxed and sized up Osha from head to toe. Just a little work on her attire and he could see a flower blooming. "Forget that. Answer me this—why’d you run from the North? Too bloody cold for you?"
Osha rubbed her hands together at her front, nervously looking down. She had no trouble barking back at the likes of Theon or Robb, or even talking back to Eddard previously, but Robert appeared more imposing even when she ignored his status.
"Cold's our comfort, my Lor—"
"Your Grace… the King is addressed as Grace," Robert corrected her.
"Your Grace…" Osha looked back at Robert's stern blue eyes and felt naked to his gaze. Too powerless. "I didn't mean to end up here. I was headed much farther south—far as south as you can go before the long night comes."
As the previous Lord of Winterfell, he knew what she was talking about. Those tales and legends were stories they'd heard since childhood. "The dead? You're afraid of them?"
He remembered the Night's Watch deserter he had beheaded. The man rambled about the same. But if a Wildling cried the same story, it was a different matter entirely. Moreover, he was now inclined to believe that his own existence was no less than resurrection and magic.
"They sleep during the day and hunt at night," Osha replied as if she had seen them with her own eyes. "They're coming… for all of us."
"Have you seen one?"
Osha nodded her head strongly, gulping. "Aye, I’ve seen them—walking corpses, dead men with bright blue eyes. They don't stop, they don't feel, and they don't die like living men do. The cold brings them, the cold and the dark. We were running for weeks, but there’s no outrunning them. One of ours—he died on the march, just froze in the night—but come morning, he was walking again, and not as himself. His hands clawed at us like he meant to kill the lot of us. We had to burn him. If we hadn’t, we’d all be dead or worse."
"The Wall will protect us," Robert responded, although slightly alarmed.
"I'll pray it does, Your Grace. Elsewise, the seas will freeze solid, and there’ll be naught left with a bit of warmth to it," Osha replied.
Robert nodded and slid the cup of wine towards her. "What's your name?"
"Osha."
"Drink it." He gestured and pondered over what she just revealed. In truth, he didn't feel any urgency regarding the situation north of the Wall. It was important, but not more than the current predicament he was in. A war was on the horizon, and if he didn't win this one, nothing else mattered.
Osha grabbed the cup and gulped down every last drop of the wine.
"Are you married, Osha?" He asked suddenly.
"I was."
"Do you have children?"
"No." Osha put down the cup on the table and folded her arms under her breasts as if trying to jut them out. "Do you need help warming your bed tonight, Your Grace?"
"Why the sudden offer?" Robert, feeling intrigued, asked; seriously considering the offer. Denying Catelyn wasn't easy.
"I know lust when I see it, m'lor… Your Grace. Men don’t have the wit to hide it, not from a sharp eye."
Wildlings and their tongue. Robert chuckled, knowing no other decent woman would have dared to speak to him like that. But that was the thing, Osha wasn't decent.
"How much for your cunt?" He took on the Robert persona. It made him feel less ashamed about chasing after his bodily needs.
"You can have it." Osha raised her chin as if trying to instill pride in herself. "But you’ll take me south with you—no other way about it."
Robert rubbed his bearded chin and silently nodded. "Then what? Head south and beg for scraps, eh? I'll pay you a half a Dragon every time I take you to bed. Until I'm done with this damn place, you'll serve as my bath maid here and in my tent when I'm at war."
Immoral, but he tried to hold back to some level of sanity and honor. Osha was desperate out of fear, but she was unaware of how ruthless the South was. If she went there without coin, she'd be turned into a whore anyway.
"I'll pray to the Gods that the King of Kneelers has some honor in him."
As soon as done speaking, Osha pulled the rope around her waist that kept her rag-like pants up, letting it fall around her feet. She then stepped out of it and took off the long rag that she wore as a robe. With that, she stood utterly naked in front of the King.
She was flat-chested, slender, and tall, with many scars all over; her cunt hidden between toned thighs with a small patch of curls.
Even with her survivor disposition and tough exterior, beyond those scars, she had pale skin. Possibly from the lack of sun beyond the wall. Her other, more intimate areas were more pinkish-pale brown. She had cleaned herself up, it seemed, devoid of any grime.
She had come prepared.
Robert stood up from his seat and walked closer, admiring.
Osha, even though she was a tall woman, still had to look up at him a little. Her stubborn gaze never left his eyes.
He extended his big, rough palm and brushed the back of his hand down her cheek. He let his fingers trail down the scar on her shoulder and climbed back up to hold her neck as if he were about to choke her. His eyes kept looking at her as if to see any kind of reaction. But all he saw was defiance and impatience, a look that was only asking him to be quick about it.
Robert's hand kept going down, his digits circling her small chest. He wasn’t in a hurry and had no desire to kiss her or eat her cunt as he had done with those noble women. No, his only focus was on her three entrances as the primal need grew stronger. His growing shaft was already twitching from the touch of her warm skin.
He cupped his hand around her knoll of flesh, feeling the tight, hardened nipple tickle his palm. He pinched the pale brown tip and leaned closer to her. "I'll be rough."
Osha smirked, proudly looking back at him, inches away from her face. "No different from Free Folk men then."
Robert walked around her, his hand never leaving her body, sliding down her delicate flank. He touched her tight, round ass, squeezing with a strong grip. Her flesh felt as tender as a freshly cooked lamb and just as tasty.
Robert could already imagine how he could make her bend, how he could lift her slender body and fuck her in fantastical ways. Towering over her frame, if one were to look through the door, they wouldn't even notice there was a person beyond Robert's shadow.
After a few indulgent squeezes, Robert finally came to her front again and pushed her down by her shoulders. He made her kneel easily, as she was also willing to. Then, he untied his breeches, letting them fall freely to the floor. He pulled his tunic up and over his head, going completely bare in one swift motion.
"Let's see if your Free Folk men ever showed you true fucking…" Robert teasingly declared. He held his large, swollen shaft and shoved the tip on her lips.
He frowned a little at his own words. Although he had come to terms with his dark desires, he didn't want to lose all sense.
But that frown instantly disappeared when he felt Osha’s plump lips opening up for him.
She landed her lips against the base of his girthy shaft, licking up his throbbing manhood. She took it slowly, taking in the varying texture and taste of his skin, trailing a throbbing vein with her slippery tongue. She could hear Robert’s slight humm, clearly enjoying having his body worshiped.
Robert groaned impatiently, his hand on the back of Osha’s head, sliding his fingers through her unruly hair. He almost wanted to yank her closer and shove it all down in an instant, but he allowed her to do most of the work, pleasuring him until his cock grew to full mass, covered in her saliva.
She eventually licked over his cockhead, narrowing her tongue and circling the tip, before taking it whole into her mouth. Her hands kept stroking his shaft while gently bobbing her head on his wide mushroom head.
Robert bared his teeth, half grin, half grit, before grabbing the back of Osha’s head and pulling her face onto his magnificent shaft. He couldn’t wait anymore, nor did he want to. He rammed his cock in her mouth, down over her tongue, and drowned in her warm throat.
“Umph!” She squeaked.
The breath Osha had been holding before spilled out of her nose, her mouth straining and throat protesting, but she allowed herself to be used as the King wanted. She could feel her throat clenching around the thick, hot pole, pressing against the walls of her throat as Robert thrust his hips, with his wide palms around her head at the same time.
Another hard thrust, another pull on her hair, making her eyes water. Osha spluttered, pulling back quickly and dropping on all fours.
Robert exhaled and lifted her back on her knees in front of his thighs again, still holding her hair like he would a leash. “Is that all you got?”
Osha’s gaze turned icy as she looked up at him. With a firm grit of her teeth, she answered, “I’ve had worse.”
“Let’s continue then.”
He pushed his hips forward, his cock firmly pointing at her face. Osha’s tongue slid past her lips and licked his cock, and eased his cock into her mouth once again. Her lips stretched so beautifully around his girth, suckling him down until her face almost reached his base.
Robert started to move again, shoving down until her nose struck the patch of hair at the base of his cock. He felt her tongue swirl around him and her gulps milking him tight, his teeth grit together as he felt himself almost losing it. He moved harder and faster, letting her splutter and gag.
Robert fucked her face entirely, recklessly indulging in the warm, sticky throat until he felt satisfied. He could feel the twitch on his balls, but he wasn’t going to end it with just that.
"Enough of this. I have a long day ahead." Robert declared and pulled her up by her arms. "Relax yourself and let me…"
Robert lifted Osha by her waist, letting her arms lock around his neck and her legs around his waist.
While he felt she was secure enough, seeing how tall and slender she was, he moved his hands down between their bodies, brushing past her small breasts. He placed his arms under her thighs and pulled both her legs up even higher, sliding her calves on his shoulders to open wide.
Now, her feet were inches away at the sides of his head, her unimpressive breasts plastered on his chest, and her lower thighs stuck against his lower belly—Folded like a chair.
Osha’s eyes widened, half in fear of falling, the other half feeling the thrill of being spread wide and dangling in the air. She could feel Robert’s meaty hands slide down her sweaty thighs, and cup her ass like a swing, letting her sit in them while her damp pussy lay wide open for him to plunder.
Their faces were so close.
Robert looked into her eyes, giving her another challenge, "Let's hear your moans now."
Robert pulled her needy cunt closer to him, sliding his cock inside her hot, squishy furnace. He looked down between them, seeing her pussy lips spreading wide around his rigid cock, swallowing his flesh sword up bit by bit. He could feel her twitching gates shudder, struggling to push out the invader with tight, massaging pressure.
He drowned in the pleasure of her tight cunt, her muscles contracting and releasing, silkily throbbing around his shaft. But with his powerful large hands, he pushed her down on his length, letting his molten member push through to the very end.
“Gh…” He grunted a little as he felt the tip of his cock striking the end of her pleasurable tunnel.
Osha couldn’t help releasing a long, heated breath on his face. This was her first time taking a cock that big. Her nails clawed at the King's shoulder, feeling helpless as her ass was locked in his hands.
She could feel the slight sting of being stretched to death, her insides struggling to accommodate his immense girth and lubricating her fully to aid his cock. Her legs struggled to clamp around his shoulders, but his palms pushed her further down on his cock. Her position forced her legs to widen, her body welcoming him deep into her pussy.
“Ohhhhhh!!” She moaned loudly.
But before long, she heard Robert's grunt and felt his wild throbs inside her walls. She felt the scorching burns in her belly, and looked down at the small gap between them, wondering if she could see that swollen thing spread her wide.
“Ah! Gods!” she cried out.
Robert had lifted her ass slowly and rammed her down hard, earning an intense scream from her, and his pleasuring grunt. He didn't care about the noise anymore as Catelyn was no longer an option. His own Kingsguards now respected him and ignored his fucking.
He kept going, swinging her in front of his large frame like a toy, and letting his cock welcome her with a deep collision, for this was a mere transaction. The back of her thighs slapped against his pelvis, harder and harder as the sounds echoed in the room. He stuffed every last inch of his cock into her feverishly hot flesh, relishing the wonderful sensations of her pussy lips puckering around his straining erection.
He could feel all the blood rushing to his loins, his cock straining with all his seeds looking for a way out. He felt his mind clearing up a little, struggling to form thoughts while his body continued the savage fucking…
He allowed Osha to hug him completely, letting her rest her head on his chest as she moaned and muttered recklessly, louder and louder. Her body instinctively followed his rhythm, her belly arched to meet each possessive thrust, her hips rocking toward him to take him further.
“Ahhh!!” She screamed against his chest. Ripples of ecstasy flooded through her, submerging her in pure bliss. Her pussy burst out leaking as her body trembled on the very edge of infinity.
The slaps echoing around them turned to squelches, her nectar squashing between them as his cock continued to plow into her.
But he reached his limit at the same time, as his balls were unable to hold the royal nectar anymore. Her slimy, spent, climaxed cunt massaged him in the most perfect ways. Her tightness was the proof, he was the first man of his size to explore her flower.
“Huh!” Robert threw her body up and down his whole length while matching the plunges with his thrusts. He didn't know how deep he was hitting, lost in the wonderful slippery smooth feeling. All he knew was that his cock vanished each time in her Wildling cunt, striking as deep as possible.
Before long, he felt the twitch deep in his loins, ready to release his batter.
Clear-headed enough, and not wanting to risk it, he quickly threw Osha onto the bed on her back, like a sack. Her long legs spread wide, her small breasts heaving, face flushed red. She didn’t even flinch, lost in pure ecstasy.
Robert stepped between her legs, against the bed. He stroked his cock a couple more times and let out a loud grunt of pure ecstasy.
“Aaagh… there…”
Like a pipe with days of pressure built, he spewed forth his sticky seed. The long splashes, like cobwebs sprinkled all over her frame. Her belly, tits, and face, multiple long gushes and strings of cream covering her withered, wiggling body.
He kept stroking for a while until a few drops coated her lips too, giving her a taste of the King. By then, he panted, his manhood growing limp right in his grip.
With great admiration and satisfaction, he watched Osha heave for breaths.
"Wildings aren't as wild as me, it seems," Robert murmured, noticing Osha seemed out of her mind, her gaping pussy twitching at the sudden emptiness inside her walls.
Let's just sleep.
Far more rational now, Robert moved Osha into a better position on the pillow and then slid beside her, maintaining distance since she was still coated in his culmination.
But her warmth was exactly what he needed that night. Even a whole gold Dragon was worth such a willing, wild woman.
This is for the best. I can finally think clearly.
####
Think he did. Robert called the lords present at Winterfell for a meeting. The soldiers were already there, prepared to fight since it had just been a night. At the same time, word about Moat Cailin started to spread.
"With Victarion dead, Balon doesn’t have much muscle left to throw around. Whoever’s parading as his squid has something rotten planned. But before we march on Moat Cailin, we’ll need the West Coast locked down. Once we're tangled at the Neck, the rest of the North’s wide open for the taking." Robert looked at the map of the North to discuss the strategy. "Ryswell and Glover will leave half their men at home, same for Winterfell. But the East Coast houses? They’ll march with every sword they’ve got."
"I shall aid in encircling Moat Cailin," Lord Howland Reed added. "The last battle left none alive to tell the tale, and so this new host is blind to how we previously won."
Ser Barristan stepped forward and moved a few pieces on the map. "The hosts of the Crownlands and Stormlands shall form a ring about His Grace, that no harm may befall him. Should our suspicions prove true, know this battle is not solely for the defense of the North, but for the very throne itself."
The lords were smart. Nobody needed to be told who the likely culprit behind this mess was. All fingers pointed at a few deranged and ambitious fools.
"So be it! Prepare to march at dawn." Robert declared and ended the gathering.
As the lords moved out of the gathering chamber, Ser Barristan walked closer to Robert to remind him of the dangers.
"The lions and the falcons are the likely culprits, Your Grace. I would urge you to tread carefully, this is no mere trap. The squids may not have an army anymore, but they still have plenty of ships."
"I know, Barristan. But it's not them I'm worried about." Robert looked at the map of the North, and then at the Riverlands. "There is no lack of ambitious fools in the realm."
####
The second battle of Moat Cailin overlapped with an intense thunderstorm. It was morning, yet it looked as if sunset was upon them. The rain made things harder, with visibility low. But it was God's gift as Robert was able to spread his men around Moat Cailin from both sides without being noticed.
Howland Reed called more of his men from Greywater Watch, letting Robert divide the army into smaller sizes, led by a crannogmen, deeper into the enemy territory without getting seen.
Then, by the middle of the day, all the men were in position. Robert took the one that suited him the most, surrounded by his most loyal soldiers.
The rain won't stop. Robert looked at the sky and frowned. Then, he looked behind at his soldiers, their feet completely bare, a decision he made after realizing how hard it was to walk with all that armor.
"Give the signal."
Since the rain didn't allow fire arrows, Ser Barristan used a horn instead. He blew into the old thing with a long breath, its ear-piercing sound rippling through all directions.
"Cripple the commanders! Kill the rest!" Robert bellowed and ushered his men to enter the battle.
The previous battle of Moat Cailin came in handy. Robert's soldiers already knew the locations best suited to hide, or for an ambush. While the men of other Northern lords suffered a little, the Crownlands and the Stormlands army butchered the enemies.
Blond hair. Robert sliced through anyone brave enough to come near him. He slammed his warhammer into skulls and chests, but each time the helmet came loose, he noticed either pale brown hair or blonde.
"Haaaa!" He bellowed and killed with no regard for his safety. He felt piercing blades strike his back, shoulders, or legs, but he didn't bother with the wounds for each morning brought him the magic of healing.
"Barristan! Find me their commander!"
The sound of swords clashing, men dying, and smashing warhammer echoed across the ruins of Moat Cailin until late evening. Just like last time, many men tried to run away, but Robert had already set up a perimeter to get them all. He was especially looking for the commanders, so anyone with decent armor was crippled and detained.
The 'Ironborn' army was sizable but not larger than Robert and North's combined. That fact only sent more alarms ringing through his head.
"Your Grace, I found him." Ser Barristan approached him with two Kingsguards dragging a crippled man. "I know him. He used to be Ser Kevan's squire."
Since the battlefield was going cold, Robert stopped killing and focused on the captured man.
Bam!
Before asking any questions, Robert smashed his warhammer on one of the crippled legs, ruining it into a minced mixture of flesh and bones.
"A man can hobble with one leg, but it’s a sorry sight. Speak up, whelp, or I’ll see how well you fare without both of them."
A squire was a squire, and a Lord was a Lord. Expecting a squire to lay down his life for something as petty as revenge was too much. The man broke down in pain and confessions, wailing even as there was truly no way to escape.
"We didn't know! We didn't know Victarion died! W-We took Moat Cailin and Lord… Lord Tywin forbade us to vacate it. We didn't want to hold this place, Your Grace, we wanted to return."
Robert frowned, "What was the plan? You knew you couldn't win alone."
"We aren't alone! W-We… Men from the Vale are marching here. They were supposed to arrive but the rain delayed them… this wasn't supposed to happen… this wasn't…" The man broke down in misery.
"Gather the men," Robert commanded urgently. "Send scouts to look for the Vale army."
As for the man they had captured, Robert didn't see any worth in keeping him alive.
Bam!
He gave a swift death, at least. A surprise to himself as he could feel his strength had grown at a rapid pace. He felt invincible, his strength far surpassing his prime. Back then, he caved in armors, but now he obliterated them, tearing them with enough force to rupture every organ in his enemies' bodies.
He could crush skulls and lift a horse if he tried. No more was there any doubt that this was magic. A blessing from the Warrior himself, it felt. But the same fact was a conundrum.
I pray to the Old Gods.
####
Night approached, and the thunderstorm subsided. Moat Cailin was turned into a fortress with torches everywhere and men patrolling every nook and cranny. The crannogmen also spread around to keep an eye on the shadows.
"Still no sign of them?" Robert saw Ser Barristan enter his temporary resting tent.
"None, Your Grace," Ser Barristan replied gravely. "It’s as though Lord Bolton and his men have disappeared into the mists. I have dispatched a scout towards Winterfell, to determine if perhaps they have grown... bold in their ambitions."
"Ugh…" Robert clenched his fist, one hand rubbing his bearded face tiredly. Winterfell just couldn't catch a break it seemed. "Did you count the bodies?"
"All six thousand dead, Your Grace. Most were likely from Westerlands. Lord Tywin seems adamant about killing you."
"But now he has six thousand fewer men. It's a grave loss, Barristan. A loss that can't be recuperated for years to come," Robert replied and looked at his Kingsguard. "Any word on the Vale?"
"Three thousand men—"
The old Kingsguard shut his mouth as a loud horn from the southern side resounded. It was one of theirs, a sentry signal.
"They're here!" Robert grabbed his warhammer and stood up. "Let's see who's leading the Vale. I gave them a chance, but no more."
Robert, with fifty men, went towards the southern edge of Moat Cailin to see the Vale army. By then, they had already created a small blockade on the road thanks to some old boulders and rubble.
"Your Grace, that's Lord Yohn Royce," one of the Kingsguards commanding the men there announced. "He wishes to speak with you."
Robert looked at the distant gathered men, torches in their hands. There were about a dozen, but a few more were around them on their knees, faces not visible.
"Barristan, walk with me." Robert placed his warhammer on his shoulder and climbed to the other side of the blockade. Then, with twenty men surrounding him, he approached Lord Royce. He knew the man by his name, a tall, strong, proud, and noble lord.
Once they were just ten meters apart, Robert realized the men on their knees had sacks of clothes on their heads. The gray-haired Lord Royce stood proudly at the front.
"What brings you to this ruined castle, Lord Royce?" Robert boomed.
"Sanity," Lord Royce replied with a similarly loud voice. "Insanity has claimed Lady Lysa. Her son is of an age to wield a sword, yet she still breastfeeds him in the halls of the Eyrie like a babe. She conspires with Tywin to see you slain, and I volunteered to graciously take that role."
Robert's hands clenched on the handle of his warhammer. "Is that your final choice, Lord Royce? To follow a mad woman?"
"Your Grace…"
Thud!
Lord Yohn Royce fell to one knee all of a sudden, his men behind him followed after.
"Your Grace, I cannot stand idly by while such treachery unfolds. I had no choice but to take command of this host, to deal with the commanders and sway the lords who still lend their loyalty to Lysa. I’m here not to clash swords, but to join hands."
Robert took a breath of relief inside and measured his next words carefully.
"Traitors, I feel, hold no place in this realm." Lord Royce continued, and while kneeling, grabbed the sack of cloth on the nearest prisoner to him, revealing his face.
"Roose?!" Robert roared, furious.
"Lord Bolton has allied himself with Tywin Lannister. He hoped to join forces with the Vale and lead the armies against you. All in the hopes of becoming the North's new Great House." Lord Royce declared and placed a dagger on Roose Bolton's neck.
Robert glared at Roose Bolton, the man's face bloody from the likely beating. He already knew about the treacherous heart the Boltons had, and this was just the proof.
"Barristan, it looks like I'll have to drag my fat arse back to King's Landing if we’re to launch a proper offensive," Robert whispered to his loyal Kingsguard.
The old Kingsguard straightened his back. "Are you certain about marrying Margaery?"
"Not yet." At that, Robert grunted, "But I need the Reach."
______________
A/N: Question - Keep Osha as a contracted bedwarmer OR gift her a happy life in the South and let her be?
Choice 1 - Keep her as a contracted bedwarmer.
Choice 2 - Let her be happy in the South.
Comments
Marcus Hamilton
2
Jackson Stott
Why not marry catelyn
Артур Яковлев
2
Pierrick Giannetti
2
Grey Jack
1
Huntzman
Choice 1
Tiago Mieres
2
Taim Koukach
2
Hildisvini
2
White Tiger
2
Eternal Playa
1
Goxo
2
Aidan Jones
2
Beastank
2
woody wolff
2
DJ
1
Onyx haider
2
snapg00
2
DarkthShadow
1
Lord Mehmeh
2 , can Robert bang someone’s wife or mother if Caitlyn is not up for grabs, what about make rahella a red woman. Kinda feels like a not so great choice with not banging the rob starks mom
earlyriser
1
Noctis117
2
Warslick
1
Darth Bane
1 the more the mairer.
Harpy81
2
Robert Brown
Since we got plenty of bedwarmers as is.
Robert Brown
If there are no other benefits to keeping her as a bedwarmer like a way to connect the crown and the 'free folk' then I say follow through and keep our word by doing as we told her she's our bedwarmer until we make it back to King's landing. After that she free to decide what she does and/or where she goes next
Will Turner
2
Immaculate Fyre
2
Jas
1
