GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag

Uncaring, Tyrion slowly poured wine for himself in his cup while all faces stared at him in confusion and dissatisfaction. Was the imp calling the King a cunt?

"What is the meaning of this?!" Stannis sternly interrogated.

Tyrion shrugged and looked up at the King. "Your Grace, the Tyrells have nothing to gain by feeding the city or gifting you gold. But if they were to gift their noble house's most prized cunt, she'd be the Queen and the mother of the next King."

Robert remembered the names and the details. His face only grew uglier. "Margaery Tyrell? But that's absurd! She's far too young!"

"Eight and ten, just last moon," Tyrion remarked with a sly smile. "Her beauty, they say, is the stuff of songs—though I've always preferred a good drink to a fair face."

"That doesn't make it any better," Robert growled. "House Tyrell won't drag their name through the muck for a scheme like this. Marrying off their young daughter to a widowed man—by the gods, I want no part of it."

"I'm afraid, it seems our friends from Highgarden are rather determined." Varys slid the missive from the Tyrells closer to Robert. "Even now, an escort is being prepared. Lord Mace Tyrell, with his ever-charming daughter in tow, will arrive shortly, and with them; Renly, their prisoner."

Robert rubbed his head in annoyance. He had no plans of falling into another trap just after getting rid of Cersei. And he knew the Tyrells wouldn't be any easier to deal with than the Lannisters.

"Ah, Your Grace, this is merely the opening act," Tyrion drawled, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he savored every moment of the King's discomfort. "You're a King without a Queen, a ruler without an heir. The Tyrells are but the first of many who will come knocking, eager to present their noble daughters for you to wed, bed, and breed—from every corner of the realm and beyond."

"Ugh…" Robert felt his cock twitch all of a sudden.

No! I want no part in this madness! Robert cursed himself. Or rather the body of the man he had possessed. Clearly, the Robert of old, that reckless bastard, would've jumped at the chance without a second thought. Only Catel… Ah! If I must wed, why not Catelyn?

"I have no interest in such senseless discussion right now. Thankfully for the Lannisters, the Crown is once again debt-free. But this is meaningless if we can't earn any gold. Tyrion, you are the Master of Coin, so handle it." Robert focused on the imp. "Before you leave, have a word with me."

"Will do, Your Grace."

Finally, Robert looked at Varys. "Any word from across the Narrow Sea?"

"The wandering Daenerys Targaryen has claimed the title of Mother of Dragons, Your Grace. Whispers, no—reports, suggest that she has hatched three fire-breathing dragons into this world." Varys's voice grew heavy with concern. "If this is true…"

"Leave her be," Robert barked, his voice rough. "I've made that mistake before. I won't make it again."

"But she has dra—"

"Enough of this!" Robert silenced Stannis, or anyone who wanted to speak next. "Get back to your tasks. Varys, I need to know anything new happening among the Lannisters, Tyrells, and Martells."

"As you wish, Your Grace."

Quickly, everyone but Tyrion left.

"Speak up. Am I to fear yet another Lannister dagger in my back? Does your loyalty to your sister and brother run so deep you'll make the same blunders they did?" Robert bluntly asked him, "If that's the case, I'd recommend you take your leave from the Red Keep."

"One thing!" Tyrion started. He stared at Robert as if he had no fear. "I don't give a damn about Cersei or Joffrey. I'm appreciative that you allowed Jaime to take the Black. But there's just one thing that gnaws at me—Tommen is a good lad. He didn't deserve this."

I have plans for that boy.

"And Tywin?"

"You could carve out his heart and eat it while on the throne, I wouldn't give a damn."

"Very well." Robert rose up from his seat. "I'll spare Tommen if you can turn the failures of King's Landing into its fortune. Your lineage means nothing to me, and I don't give a damn how tall you are. Show me the results, and rewards will follow."

A chance.

Robert knew what men like Tyrion desired the most in their life. A chance to prove themselves and be treated like an ordinary man. A chance to be taken seriously.

"It will be done," Tyrion replied and jumped from his seat, leaving quickly.

Robert followed suit and headed to the Throne Room. It was time to hold court and do the duty that the body's previous owner neglected the most.

Ruling the realm.

####

Highgarden, the Reach,

"Mother! How could you make such a decision without consulting me? I'm the lord of this House! Robert is barely younger than I am! No, I won't allow you to marry Margaery off to him!" Mace Tyrell dared to take a louder voice before his mother. "I won't have my daughter be his broodmare… his plaything. He's a whoremonger!"

Olenna Tyrell tolerated her son, a thin smile playing on her lips as she sipped the last of her tea. "I've indulged your little schemes long enough, Mace. You backed Renly, and your pawn was swept from the board. Robert has dragged the Lannisters through the mud, leaving them more vulnerable than ever. You were betting on the opposite, I believe."

"Renly was the most viable choice!" Loras chimed in. "Renly still has a chance, Grandmother. We jus—"

"Go into battle against Robert?" Olenna's voice was laced with icy disdain. "Need I remind you of what his hammer did to the Targaryens? Or his cunning dismantling of the Lannisters? We backed Renly because Robert was supposed to be dead, and Stannis was already bound by marriage. But all that's dust now—if you wish to see Margaery crowned without a battlefield drenched in blood, this is the only path left."

"But Grandmother, he'll mistreat Margaery!" Loras continued.

At that, Olenna angrily glared at her grandson. "Just because one chooses not to see, Loras, doesn't mean they're blind. Don't mistake willful ignorance for weakness. And never forget who you're speaking to!"

"I'll do it!" Margaery voiced just then. "This is my life, my future, and I alone must choose its course. I'll wed King Robert. I'll bear him a son and secure my place as Queen Mother. Cersei has given us this chance, and can not let it slip away."

"But…" Mace trembled in fright for his beloved daughter. "Y-You're the pride of Highgarden… You're the most desired maiden of the Seven Kingdoms. How can I hand you to that brute?"

"That brute is the King," Margaery firmly replied to her father. "Don't all strong men seek beauty in the end?"

"They all do, my sweet girl. Brute or not, Robert's no different from any other man in this wretched realm," Olenna's fingers gently traced Margaery's cheek. "And soon enough, you'll have him on his knees, drooling like the rest of them."

Margaery shyly rolled her eyes away.

But in her heart, she was confident. No man in the Seven Kingdoms was foolish enough to refuse her favor.

Even less so a man like Robert, whose lust ruled his mind more than sanity.

####

As another night approached, Robert looked for one of his guests to have a private discussion. A discussion that he truly prayed to the gods to do well.

"Catelyn." Robert greeted the overly dressed Tully woman. She looked in much better condition now than before. Her complexion was better, and her eyes less hollow. "Have a seat."

Catelyn stayed alert and walked into the room. The place smelled of alcohol, so she felt on edge already. "What is it that requires such privacy, Your Grace?"

"Just wanted to share some words with you, my lady," Robert said and poured a goblet of wine for her while taking his seat. "I hope you weren't too disappointed by the punishments handed out. Sometimes justice isn't as sweet as the wine we drink, but it's necessary all the same."

"None but Jaime. All the proof points to him or Cersei having pushed Bran from the tower," Catelyn boldly replied. "The Night's Watch is too good for him."

"Do with him what you will, my lady. The man belongs to the North now. Accidents happen—men tumble from walls, or find a knife between their ribs in a tavern brawl. If it were up to me, I'd have lopped his head off myself. But then Tywin would've marched his banners, and we'd be neck-deep in blood alongside the North," he explained his reasoning. "I spoke about this matter with Robb too."

"And what did he say?"

Robert sighed. "He's too honorable for his own good."

This time Catelyn sighed. "Inherited from Ned."

I wish he hadn't.

______________________

Check out Robert X Septa Unella & Myrcella X Sansa NSFW ART, and advance chapters at [email protected]/MrPlotThickens Or Subscribestar.adult/mrplotthickens

Old Free Art on Discord: https://discord.gg/W5FdB6WXaP