GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag

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It felt like a long night, and Robert refused to go to sleep. The fear that someone might help the prisoners escape ran high. The entire Red Keep was in a lockdown that night.

To spend the night, he chose to retreat to his solar and read some books there. Mainly Little Finger's ledger to make some sense out of it. By now he knew the game that Little Finger was playing. Stealing from the realm while 'helping' the Crown whenever the King needed money. Since only Little Finger knew where the money came from, no one ever doubted him, and only ever spoke his name when money was required.

Thanks to Tywin, the debt will soon be taken care of. He relaxed in the chair and closed the ledger. But where will the Crown earn more money from?

Knock! Knock!

Stannis walked into the solar just then, and behind him was the ethereal beauty from Essos, taller than most knights, slender and graceful than most highborn women. But her deep burnished copper hair and red eyes never ceased to unsettle Robert. As if those eyes saw more than the realm of the living.

"It's Renly, I presume?" Robert asked as he watched his brother take a seat, and the Red Priestess took the one beside him. Are they married?

"He refuses!" Stannis angrily slammed a folded parchment on the table. "This time in his own words, Your Grace. He accuses you of being an imposter and demands to hold you accountable with his King's Justice. House Tyrell lends him its support, though they are cautious to declare it openly."

Why, Renly? Why?

Robert sighed and looked at the parchment. "In days past, I might've spared him and sent him to the Wall. But now, he demands execution. Don't let Renly occupy your mind, Stannis. After tomorrow's execution, House Tyrell will discard Renly on their own. They have stood once on the losing side during the Rebellion. I doubt they'll risk such folly again."

Stannis nodded sternly and continued. "Tywin has handed over the Mountain to us. He now sits in the Black Cells."

"Let him rot and weaken in his chains. When he's but a shadow of his former self, I'll drag him to Dorne myself," Robert declared. "Anything else?"

"The exiled Targaryen girl now possesses dragons, or so the rumors claim. Three dragons," Stannis declared, his voice betraying a hint of disdain. "Her Dothraki barbarian husband lies dead."

Targaryens. Yet another soft spot for him. Deep in his heart, he could feel the internal hatred for the Targaryen bloodline. But at the same time, knowing Jon Snow and Lyanna's truth, there was keen interest.

"They're real," Melisandre spoke all of a sudden. Her voice was deep, melodic, and somehow magical enough to tickle minds. "The Red Comet marked the return of dragons and magic to Westeros."

Robert stared at the Red Witch and said nothing. His first instinct was to refute her claim. But he accepted her words, having realized that his resurrection occurred near the same time the Red Comet was seen in the sky. Was all of it connected? He didn't know. Was it magical? It had to be.

"Stannis, don't do anything to her. But do keep an eye out for any new information," Robert ordered.

Quickly after, the stern Lord of Dragonstone got up to leave. Yet, seeing Melisandre still seated, he paused.

"My Lord, may I have a word with the King?" Melisandre asked, giving Stannis a calm look. Somehow her eyes seemed to have conveyed a message.

"Very well." Stannis left.

Robert straightened his back, aware of Melisandre's magical fame. Since she followed the same god as Thoros of Myr, he had no doubt there was a connection between his resurrection and R'hllor.

"I beseech you to seek peace with the Targaryens," she asked, taking Robert by surprise. "To challenge dragons is to court your own destruction."

Thud!

Robert roared, his anger shaking the very walls of the chamber. His massive fist struck the table with the force of a thunderclap, causing the ledger and tools to rattle. He arose from his seat, his eyes blazing with fury. Striding around the table with a wrathful determination, he seized Melisandre by her slender neck, lifting her from her seat as if she were but a weightless doll. "How dare you suggest I seek peace with the scum who stole Lyanna from me? How dare you stand here and lecture me on what must be done!"

Bam!

Robert pushed her back against the large bookcase. He pressed onto her entire body, angered further by her unwavering red eyes glaring at his own blue ones. Uncaring of her modesty, he crushed her full breasts by the weight of his belly, towering over her. "I'll have y—"

"Ruse," she murmured, her voice as insubstantial as the smoke of her fires, undisturbed by the weight that pressed upon her. "You need not cloak yourself from me, Your Grace. The flame of R'hllor has already touched your soul with its divine mark."

"Ramblings!" Robert bellowed at her heart-shaped face. "Targaryens are gone, Witch."

"But their blood remains," she responded. Despite being locked in that spot, she moved her arms and softly reached for his face. Her delicate, long, warm fingers traced his beard, and then his skin. "You are destined for greatness, Your Grace."

"I…" Robert's brows creased together adeptly, sensing a cloud in his thoughts. Looking down at Melisandre, her face suddenly looked as if shining with warmth and light. The only thing in his field of view.

His eyes drifted further, noting the sleeveless expanse of her flowing, red robe, the neckline open and inviting. Her warmth, renewed and irresistible, beckoned like a beacon in the darkness.

Melisandre's fingers continued to circle all over his face, her lips continuously spewing words. "Wed the Mother of Dragons, Your Grace. Seize one of her mighty beasts, for you carry the blood of the Targaryen, no matter how faint. Claim your destiny, for that is the right of a King!"

"Ugh…" Robert let out a senseless grunt, and his blue eyes turned hazy. His palm still on her neck weakened, and instantly landed below, tracing her collarbone, then feeling her skin leading to her covered full breasts. "My destiny?"

"For it is yours to claim," she added.

Robert breathed out heavily and felt her narrow waist with the other hand. Inviting and warm, there was magic in every single touch. Like a force of attraction demanding him to have her, consume her in ways only a husband does his wife.

"In Dragons lies your destiny," she murmured more, landing her hand on his neck all of a sudden while also rising on her toes. Her red, burning hot, scentful lips inched closer to him. "In Wolves lies your legacy."

Robert willingly lowered his face and met with hers. Despite his lips staying unresponsive, Melisandre did everything. Her thin, burning red lips suckled his breath out and invaded his mouth with her slithering tongue. Sweeping the warmth out of the King, she tasted the man the realm once feared. The man the realm would once again fear.

I… What am I doi… Doing..

Eyes closed, Robert found himself lost in a strange pleasure that went beyond mere sexuality. As if covered in warmth from all sides, an embrace of a lover. His loins warmed up and stood erect, yet there was control.

A desire to feel the body against his own arose from primordial depth. His hands moved up and pulled down her dress from the shoulders. As soon as her full, naked breasts were released, he claimed them in both palms and kneaded them. Silken beyond anything, unblemished as if made of fine porcelain.

"Ummmh…" Melisandre moaned a little, a spell that left the King intoxicated and pressing her tall, slender frame harder against the bookcase. Her lips never left the King's, the kiss had turned mutual as the King's tongue invaded her inviting maw.

However, Robert wanted more and his lips moved. Leaving hers, his wet kisses brushed against her chin, then her neck below. He arched his back and continued to go down until his face reached one of her cloud-like warm breasts.

"King's desire is the realm's duty…Ah!" Melisandre caressed Robert's hair and pulled his lips to her cheery-like red nipple, inviting him to suckle. His tongue felt warm, hotter than anything ever before. The spit of a man blessed by the flames of R'hllor. Her chin turned upward in reaction, her knees going weak as the moistness between her thighs increased.

"Mmmmh!"

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