GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag

"She's with Myrcella. Worry not, for I have summoned her," Robert declared, stepping away with a commanding air. "If you've got Jaime held outside these walls, I suggest you bring him in. The old lion's on his way, and his only concern now is his son."

Robb looked at his mother and noticed her nod. Was it a nod of affirmation, that this was indeed Robert Baratheon?

"I'll give the order once I see my sister," Robb insisted.

I'd have done the same. Robert thought and returned to his throne to sit down. He waited, and waited, the entire time locking eyes with Catelyn Stark. So much he wanted to say to her, and nothing he could do. No matter how much one believed in miracles of the Old Gods and the New, his resurrection in Robert's body was going to be dismissed with ridicule.

Can we ever be together again as one? He wondered, holding her close to his heart. How could he forget her after having five children with her? They weren't made out of necessity, after all. The passion was real.

"ROBB! Mother!"

Sansa's cries echoed soon enough and her figure appeared to run off to hug her family. Weeping mindlessly, she nestled her face into her brother's chest and refused to let go for a long, long time. Just wailing non-stop, apologizing for betraying her own father. For not being a good daughter.

Catelyn frowned multiple times hearing Sansa's words, but she stopped herself from asking anything there. Instead, she just hugged her and consoled her to calm down. By then, Robb had also ordered his men to bring in Jaime Lannister.

Robert silently waited on his throne, staring at the family reunion, struggling to hold himself back from joining. An hour passed, and finally the prisoner was brought in, chained, dirty, wounded in multiple places as he limped.

Thud!

Robb kicked Jaime, throwing him down onto his knees. "What will be the King's Justice, Your Grace?"

Robert's brow furrowed deeply at Robb's insolent tone. What might have been overlooked before now took on the weight of outright defiance. "While Cersei Lannister and Joffrey colluded to murder Ned. Jamie Lannister also bedded his own sister and fathered three bastards through their vile incest! The King's Justice will be announced to the entire realm, Young Stark. You are free to reside within the Red Keep until then and be with your sister.

Robb glared at Robert. "B—"

Catelyn stopped her son with a firm hand and stepped forward, her voice steady though her eyes betrayed her weariness. "Your Grace, forgive my son's tone; the journey has left us all weary, and the trials we've faced have been a heavy burden. I'm grateful to the Seven that you are alive and here to dispense justice. But… may we be permitted to see my husband's…?"

"It would be a sin to deny that, my lady," Robert responded quickly and waved dismissively to one of the Kingsguards. "Take them to the Sept of Baelor."

"Thank you… Thank you." Catelyn mumbled even as she turned around and left. She was clearly broken in heart and body. Although relaxed to see Robert on the throne, it did little to fill the void of loss in her heart.

Same for Robert, who felt restless, and suffocated in his body. Unable to do anything for his true family.

"Barristan, you know what to do." Robert bellowed in anger and walked down from his throne.

Bam!

He kicked Jaimie until he lay on his back, groaning and mumbling nonsense.

"Break his arms and legs!" Robert ordered, taking no chances with the Lannisters anymore. No matter what, Jaimie was one of the best swordsmen in Westeros.

Ser Barristan did as commanded and with the help of some more men, snapped the Kingslayer's arms and legs like mere twigs.

"Get the healers to mend him up properly before tossing him into the Black Cells. We'll sort the rest of it out when Tywin arrives."

"Understood, Your Grace!"

Robert walked away after that. His mood was too spoiled to hold court for the day.

Is this what you felt, Robert? Alone despite being surrounded by so many souls?

He wondered while making his way to his solar.

####

Riverlands,

Jon Snow couldn't bring himself to deny the King's royal decree. He tried and almost died from the wrath of his own brothers of the Night's Watch. To them, he mattered little, and the promise of the King's aid meant the world.

Still adorned in black, he rode his horse south. After a brief stop at Winterfell, he was already up to date with most of the happenings in the Seven Kingdoms. On his way down south he also took plenty of detours to look for his favorite half-sibling—Arya.

Any men he could muster from Winterfell were asked to expand the search for Arya. Even the men of House Tully were searching for her.

Reaching Crossroads Inn, he decided to stop there and rest for the night, grateful to Maester Luwin for handing him some coins to spend on the way.

"What do you want?" A barmaid approached him and asked.

"What's to eat?"

"Watery chicken stew. Just don't look for meat in it," the barmaid nonchalantly replied. "Need ale?"

"Just the stew." He tossed the coin for it and relaxed back. Looking around, the place looked full to the brim. Plenty of sellswords, travelers, and men of less honor dining around. Having never traveled outside the North before, everything felt new. The lesser cold was a welcome change, however.

Clank!

His attention was drawn to a table behind him just then. Men laughed while a young, short boy scurried to pick up the fallen cup of ale.

Thud!

"Bahaha~"

Jon frowned as one of the men kicked the little boy. He moved by instinct at that point and knelt beside the boy to help him.

"No need, good Ser. I can clean it myse—"

The boy froze as soon as he looked up at the man's face.

Jon, too, matched the expressions. The short hair couldn't fool him. "A-Arya?!"

"Jon?!"

####

The next day, Robert woke up early and entered his solar to start the day with a heavy dose of realm-repairing work. He ate his breakfast there and continued to write ravens, read various reports, and dozens of pleas from men of all statuses.

One of the reasons for keeping himself occupied was to stop thinking about Robb, Catelyn, and Sansa. To remind himself he was Robert Baratheon now, the King.

Knock! Knock!

"Your Grace," Ser Barristan's voice rang from outside. "Lord Tywin Lannister has entered King's Landing."

"Send him in once he's here!" Robert ordered and poured himself back into writing his raven to House Tyrell. He still had no idea where Tyrell's confidence was coming from. Most of the realm had accepted the fact that the King was alive and back. Even the North was on the trajectory to bend the knee once again.

Are they waiting for Tywin's reaction? He wondered and put away the quill. As long as things go as planned, the Tyrells will have nothing but regret.

He didn't hold the Tyrells in high regard ever since Robert's rebellion. The house stood with Targaryens despite it being clear that the Mad King had gone too far.

Knock! Knock!

"That was fast." Robert put away everything and looked at the door open.

Stoic, serious, noble—Tywin Lannister stormed into the room with an unwavering gaze, the fierceness of his house sigil not lost to his presence.

"What is the meaning of this?!" The old lion roared before the door could even close. "Where is my daughter?"

"In the Black Cells," Robert answered, matching Tywin's firm gaze.

"And my son?"

"Which one?"

Tywin's lips quivered. "Jaime."

"The Kingslayer, you say? Aye, he's rotting away in the Black Cells as well," Robert growled, his voice dripping with disdain. "Tell me, Tywin, are you truly blind, or do you feign blindness for your own convenience?"

Tywin let out a deep, rumbling sigh, his fury barely contained. "What is my son's crime, to warrant such cruelty? For fighting in the name of the Lannisters, is it?"

"Hah!" Robert bellowed, gripping the armrest of his chair so fiercely that it splintered under his hand. "Not even going to defend your daughter? Aye, you knew, didn't you? You knew that your son and daughter have been fucking each other since the age of four and ten! That your son fucked the Queen and fathered three filthy bastards!"

Veins popped on Tywin's forehead, his eyes turned red. But he didn't reply for a long while, staring at the King with hostility.

"You have proof?"

"I have eight bastards! Not a single one of them has hair or eyes that don't scream of me!" Robert bellowed. "Before you say Lannister seed is strong, know this; your clever daughter admitted it! She confessed to her abominable affection for her brother. She even confessed to bedding Lancel Lannister, my squire, to spike my wine during that boar hunt!"

Tywin said nothing anymore.

But Robert continued. "Lancel Lannister confessed to fucking your whore of a daughter multiple times. And that is not the worst of it! High treason, Tywin! Your daughter tore up my decree to make Ned the Lord Regent. She had him killed for defying her and plunged the realm into chaos! For all your pride, you've failed in the only duty that mattered. You've raised a whore and a Kingslayer who fucks with his own sister!"

By the end of it, Robert was panting. Risen from his seat, he was just a few words away from bashing Tywin's skull with his bare hands. Thankfully, he could control himself.

Tywin somehow maintained his stoic expression. "You may do as you please with Cersei and Joffrey, but Jaime is not to be touched."

I knew you'd ask for that. Robert saw the old lion willingly fall into his plan.

"He shoved Lord Stark's boy, Bran, off that tower in Winterfell. The lad witnessed your precious son fucking his own sister," Robert bellowed. "The Starks are baying for blood. They want his head on a spike."

Tywin remained unmoved. "What do you want?"

So willingly?

"Though his sins may not rival those of Cersei or Joffrey, they are treasonous all the same. I know you only care about the cock that your son's carrying." Robert scoffed at the slightest hint of sneer on Tywin's face. He knew the man only wanted his son to sire some sons for the future of House Lannister. "Very well. For your son's cock, I want all debts owed to House Lannister by the Crown to be forgiven. You will also settle the remaining debts the Crown owes to the Iron Bank. Hand me Gregor Clegane. And lastly, I shall be taking your Kingslayer's sword hand."

Robert saw the man's face darken as he talked. As if the old lion aged years right in front of him.

Thankfully, Tywin's Lannister pride didn't allow him to bargain at that point. It was too beneath him. After a long moment of silence, he just grunted a nod.

"That's acceptable."

Robert took back his seat. "You're still wise, I see. Have the agreements signed before sunrise."

"What of Tommen and Myrcella?" Tywin asked further. "They have done not—"

Robert stopped him from finishing his words with a mere angry look. "I may not be a good man, Tywin. But I'm no baby killer."

Tywin didn't speak anymore. The shame, the dishonor, and the sorrow inflicted on him in that little exchange was more than a lifetime's worth. Being mocked for the murder of Elia Martell and her children was a ghost that still haunted him.

A defeated Lannister. Robert watched Tywin turn around and open the door to leave. This is all but your fault. For failing Joanna.

Of course, mocking him with his beloved wife was something even Robert knew was going too far. The woman was the only one the old lion ever loved.

"Make sure you're there for the execution tomorrow!"

Fist clenched, Tywin silently left.

Thud!

Robert rose to his feet as soon as he was alone.

You mistake me for a fool if you think I'd let Jaime go so easily after all this—For crippling Bran.

"Ser Barristan!"

The door opened and the knight entered.

"Break Jaime until the stroke of midnight. I'll have a word with him when the hour is nigh."

______________________

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