GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag

A week passed, thankfully without any unwanted intimate incidents. Robert felt wonderful at that time, focusing on sparring with Ser Barristan and fixing the issues that plagued the realm one at a time. His body craved wine the most, but he fought against it and never touched a single goblet.

Food contained plenty of healthy items, yet lavish. It was no longer hard for him to imagine why Robert had grown so fat so quickly before. A King had access to luxuries that most others don't. A King has men working under him to run the realm. Meanwhile, mere lords couldn't afford such luxuries, especially in the cold North where everything was scarce.

It was a normal morning this time. He woke up, cleaned up, and got dressed. Right away, he headed out to hold the regular daily Small Council meeting in the morning to get the day started.

"They're waiting for you, Your Grace."

Robert reached the entrance to the Small Council, its door left slightly open while Ser Barristan waited for him outside.

Thud!

"Be careful with your next words!"

Robert frowned at the loud voice from inside the room. "Why's Stannis fuming?"

Ser Barristan awkwardly responded. "Lord Varys is… sharing some rumors that are being spread about you."

"Me?" Robert frowned and got a little closer to the door to listen better. He could make out the voices clearly at that point.

"My Lord, I'm but a humble spymaster, tasked with hearing the whispers of the streets. While the smallfolk may seem content, those of higher stature harbor doubts about whether this is truly Robert Baratheon. The whores who once lingered within the Red Keep, tending to the King for days on end, have now departed, no longer summoned to his side."

"Is there a fault in that?" Davos' voice rang out. "His Grace convenes the Small Council daily now, showing a keen interest in the governance of the realm. I see no cause for complaint in that."

"Neither do I," Varys replied. "But you can't silence the tongues of those who prattle too much. It's in our nature, like a moth to a flame, to be drawn to the forbidden whispers of conspiracies."

"And what's the conspiracy you talk of?" Stannis sternly inquired.

Vays coughed to clean his throat first. "That… that the King is a mere puppet installed by the Lannisters, driven by the shadows of doubt cast over the legitimacy of the Princes and Princess' blood."

"So you want him to return to whoring and wine?" Stannis glared at the eunuch. "The very thing that brought the crown to the brink of bankruptcy? Robert has changed because of a near-death experience, there is nothing more to it."

"His Grace has faced countless battles, my Lord, with the struggle against Prince Rhaegar being particularly fierce, as the tales recount. Those who have indulged in a lifetime of wine and pleasures do not transform with such swiftness—It would be prudent for His Grace to maintain at least a semblance of his former self until the realm finds its footing once more." Varys concluded and looked towards the door of the Small Council chamber as if aware that the King was there. "Sometimes there is more to gain from the facade of weakness than a genuine show of might."

What's he up to? Robert had enough and stepped into the chamber. He eyed Varys before taking his seat. Who's spreading the rumors?

In silence, Robert glanced at everyone's faces there. The seat of Master of Coin and Grand Maester remained empty, along with the seat of the Hand of the King. Robert wanted to fill them but had no clue who to place there.

For a moment he looked at the empty seat of the Lord Hand. He had to agree that Tyrion was doing a decent job. But, he didn't want to trust a Lannister, especially for what he had in plan for them. So a few names flashed in his mind.

The first was Stannis, a man known for truly being just. But at times his inflexible personality could pose a problem. No, he wanted someone he already knew. Someone he also understood. Someone honorable, respected and quick-headed.

Ser Brynden Tully—A veteran of half a hundred battles.

He finally settled on one name for the time being. But he still had no name for Master of Coin, a very crucial position.

"How far is Robb Stark now?" Robert asked to get the meeting going.

"They must have crossed Harrenhal by now, Your Grace," answered Varys.

"And Lord Tywin?"

Varys looked amused at the King's guess. He wasn't wrong. "The whispers tell of a small regiment being mustered, poised to march on King's Landing. The recent purging of Lannister influence from the Red Keep and the city has not sat well with Lord Tywin."

Robert scoffed, a hearty laugh escaping his lips. "Good, that spares me from inviting that old bastard. Now, what's the latest word on that Targaryen girl over in Essos?"

"She has hatched dragon eggs, Your Grace. Such is the whisper," Varys answered.

"Hah!" Davos chortled. "Another one of your rumors? Dragons are nothing but myths now."

"Varys, do whatever is needed and get me confirmation. Does she have dragons or not?" Robert ordered all of a sudden, surprising everyone.

Was it the birth of dragons that caused this? Robert had a very strong reason to trust the whispers. After all, he who had died was now sitting in the dead body of Robert as if his own. The magic has returned and is stronger.

"As you wish, Your Gr—"

Bam!

Bam!

"Nooo! Let me in! I must speak to Father!"

The commotion outside the Small Council chamber gained everyone's attention. The screeching voice was easy to recognize as there was only one man in the Red Keep who could scream that loud and unremarkably.

"Barristan," Robert ordered.

The Lord Commander got up and opened the door. There was Joffrey, fighting the two Kingsguards who had caught his arms. He jumped around, swung his legs, and hit the door a few times.

"Father! Please let me speak!"

"Let him in!" Robert coldly ordered.

Finally freed, Joffrey ran into the Small Council chamber. But he didn't really have a plan in mind, so when he reached Robert, he just froze there in fear. Robert was the only man he truly feared, after all.

"F-Father! How dare they! They've locked your son in a room like some common criminal! The food they serve me is fit only for swine, and they mock me at every turn! Punish them, I command you! They dare to mock the Crown Prince—your own flesh and blood! They shall pay dearly for their insolence!" Joffrey's voice cracked with rage, his face contorted in a tantrum as he flailed in indignation.

Robert remained unmoved. "You command me? Boy, I ordered them to lock you."

"W-What?" Joffrey cowered back on his feet. "W-Why?"

He's just a child. Robert reminded himself again and again. That face, that pubescent voice was so irritating and enraging. He's merely a child!

"I want to see Mother, now!" Joffrey snarled, his voice dripping with menace. "Where is she? What have you done to my Mother? If you've harmed her, know that grandfather will make you pay dearly for i—"

The King's chair scraped across the marble floor with a thunderous clamor.

Robert Baratheon rose to his full height, a mountain of fury, casting a shadow over Joffrey's meager frame. His eyes blazed with anger, veins throbbing beneath his skin. "Boy, you forfeited any right to command when you murdered Ned and plunged the realm into turmoil! Then you dared to defile Sansa, to disgrace a noble lady before the common folk—Have you lost your wits so completely that you've forgotten why a rebellion bearing my name erupted in the first place?"

Joffrey knew he was treading a dangerous path. But a boy who never knew the consequences of his actions also didn't know when to shut up. "Ned was a traitor! He dared to plot and seize my throne! And Sansa is my wife! I shall do as I please with her—bed her, strip her, o—'"

PA!

"YOU FILTH!" Robert slapped, and any semblance of control was lost. His precious Sansa's name being uttered by that filthy incest spawn enraged him. "The Mad King died because he did as he pleased! He killed, he ravaged the realm! You! You may be worse!"

"You hit me!" Joffrey roared in pain, feeling some fluid ooze out of his nostrils.

PA!

A second slap connected, stronger than the last one. Joffrey got thrown across the room as the entire massive, calluses-filled palm struck his right cheek. The skin ruptured on contact, his ear possibly damaged, and his right eye also swole.

Thud!

Joffrey fell to the floor in pain, holding his face.

"I should have done this years ago." Robert bellowed, controlling himself from stomping on his face and ending the filth's misery quickly. "Barristan, break his legs if he tries to leave his room again."

Barristan moved quickly. Although he held no respect for Joffrey and even knew about his true blood status, it was still his duty. He grabbed Joffrey's arms and dragged him out of the room before lifting him up with the help of other Kingsguards.

It took Robert long moments to calm his breath. This body is too easy to provoke.

"Dismissed… Go away," he ordered the rest of the council.

The chairs moved quickly and one after another the rest of the members left. Yet, Stannis remained seated, unmoving as if he had something to say, his face sullen.

Robert noticed his presence. "What's the bad news?"

"Renly," Stannis spoke with grim resolve. "Renly refuses to return with the Baratheon soldiers. He remains camped with the Tyrells. According to the reports of his own soldiers, the Tyrells are not without ambition. They had planned to wed Margaery Tyrell to Renly, seeking to cement their name within the Red Keep. It seems they want to first ascertain that you're indeed Robert and not some ploy devised by Cersei."

Renly, you fool! Robert clenched his fist, his voice a rumbling thunder. "Without Baratheon soldiers, this city is naught but a prize for the taking. If Tywin dares to strike, we'll be left with no men to hold the line."

"I know," Stannis replied with stern resolve. "Renly's actions are nothing short of treachery, Your Grace. He endangers your very life for the sake of his own ambitions to wear the crown."

Be quick, Robb.

"Let's hope the Starks arrive before Tywin." Robert hoped and stood up. "As for Renly… He's no child now. Treason… there is a limit to how much I can tolerate."

Stannis nodded coldly but added nothing. If he were the King, he'd have already excommunicated Renly of all his titles and rights.

Lost in his thoughts, Robert strolled to the door. As he walked out, Ser Barristan joined his side as his Kingsguard.

"Ser Barristan, are the rumors real?" Robert asked the loyal man.

Ser Barristan agreed right away. "They are, Your Grace. Even the Kingsguards feel that way. They were the closest to you in the past and… saw your day-to-day life. They're now curious as you don't drink or dine with women anymore."

The whoring again. He frowned. When did you become this immoral, my friend?

He failed to realize that Robert was always that immoral. It was just his martial ambition that kept it in check. In Ned's eyes, Robert was too close for him to realize his friend's shortcomings.

"If that's the case then we need to put an end to such rumors. Especially when we lack soldiers." Robert made up his mind, albeit with a heavy heart. "I need you to visit the Street of Silk."

"For what, Your Grace?"

"For…"

####

That same night, Robert returned to his bedchamber late. For the first time in weeks, he gulped down one cup of strong wine. He needed it for his next course of immoral actions. I'm really doing this…

Clack!

Seated in a comfortable cushioned chair beside the bed, Robert looked at the door as it swung open. He felt his heart racing at the sight of a slender, dark-skinned girl entering. She was indeed a beauty of an exotic kind. The flowing gown was tight and accentuated her grace and beauty.

"Alayaya? Was that your name?" Robert asked her.

"It is, Your Grace." She turned to lock the door behind her.

"Don't! Leave the door wide open." Robert ordered all of a sudden, feeling much shame in his action. Sitting in nothing but his loose tunic and breeches, he hated the erection that was already nearing its peak.

Alayaya giggled and strolled closer to Robert. Walking around the bed, then towards his chair. As she walked, she untied the strings tying her gown and allowed it all to fall around her fine toes. She walked over to it, devoid of any smallclothes.

All naked, slim waist, curving hips, and small breasts. Robert felt guilt at the thought of laying with her. She seemed too slender for his size. But again, he realized most women were.

I have to do this. At least until I deal with the Lannisters. Robert reminded himself and raised his tunic, removing it with one quick motion. Without standing up, he raised his hips and pulled down his breeches. In no time he sat on the chair as naked as the woman cat-walking towards him.

"Ummm…" Alayaya's eyes focused on the infamous royal cock. "H-How would you like to have me, Your Grace? Should I… prepare you?"

"No need," Robert responded, embarrassed. "I'm ready."

"Oooh~ Of course." Alayaya reached Robert, finding his tall frame, even when sitting, reached to her chin while she stood. She gulped and softly, sweetly pressed her dainty hands on his shoulder. Then, she tried to straddle his lap.

Robert let out a long breath at that. "Hmm… Be loud."

"Yesss~!" She obliged and started rubbing herself back and forth, drenching Robert's cock horizontally under her cunt. Her lips reached for his neck, soaking him in her heat. She did feel overwhelmed by his entire size, be it cock or body as she could feel she'd vanish if the man was to hug her tight. But there was excitement in that dangerous exchange.

"Ooooh! So biiiig~"

She reached down between her toned belly and Robert's less-than-athletic one. Her fingers grabbed his cock and failed to even squeeze half of the thickness. But she felt adventurous and raised herself up to aim better.

Her gulp was audible when the monstrous cockhead tried to spread her tight, dark brown lips apart. "Ummmmmgh… Oh oh… This will be…"

"Painful?" Robert felt guilty.

"Aaaah! Yesss~" Alayaya pushed herself down, taking the bulging purple cockhead in with great effort. She felt so full, so spread apart that her breath became choppy. But she only giggled in ecstasy. "Ahhhh… P-Painfully… good!"

Good?

At that moment, Robert realized how greatly he underestimated this beautiful, dark beauty. His own gulp became audible as he felt her cunt tightly clamping and swallowing him deeper. So warm, so tight, the throbs, the scraping against his foreskin inside—it felt like heaven. So much so that his own breath turned choppy.

"Aaaaah! Yo-ooooh~ Graaace~" Alayaya raised her hips a little and slammed herself down hard, plunging her cunt onto his royal cock.

Robert… Eddard's soul couldn't sit silent anymore. Just a little, but I think now I understand why you—uh—lost yourself to th-this.

______________________

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