GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag

Wide-eyed, Robert stared down at Lady Alerie Hightower on her knees, her one hand already clamped around his exposed shaft while her vapid face inched closer to his exposed purple knob. Not even waiting for his size to rise, she opened her mouth and took all of his semi-flaccid shafts in.

How can a proud woman of Hightower and Tyrell stoop so low? Robert asked himself, shocked by her shameless compliance to his demand that was supposed to be a deterrence.

Robert felt her wet mouth around his shaft already tightening. No, it was rather his erection that was gaining size and stretching her lips dangerously. He failed to notice any change in Alerie Hightower's expressions. No disgust, no lust, no aversion to what she was doing. Her eyes just remained focused on his pelvis as she softly stroked around the base and suckled the tip.

Robert didn't know what to feel.

As a king, seeing a proud lady like that felt highly pleasing. As an honorable man, it felt wrong. But as a man who knew the history, he knew House Hightower was far from anything honorable. The very house that tried to take the throne by proxy, by using Alicent Hightower and her son Aegon back in the Targaryen civil war.

Perhaps House Hightower was responsible for the end of the Age of Dragons. So keeping all that in mind, Robert couldn't help but view Lady Alerie with discomfort. At the same time, he couldn't bring himself to trust the Tyrells. There were too many interests involved.

"Ahk~" Lady Alerie struggled as Robert's shaft grew to its full length.

At that point, her pouting, gaping lips could only suck the tip and a few more inches while the rest had to be stroked using both her hands coated in her spit. She tried her best with her tongue, slobbering the rim of his cock. At least her eyes held a look of surprise due to his inhuman size.

Robert continued to look down at her in silence. The tall, dignified, beautiful woman, lithe in her form, was certainly a beauty who had retained her charm even as she grew older. But her expressions seemed more dead than her shame.

It was a physical pleasure but also a mental conundrum. As Alerie's hands became faster and her mouth tighter, Robert felt a tickle deep within his core. He felt close to shooting the fluids in her mouth.

"Ugh… Stop this." He quickly stepped back, escaping her lips and freeing himself. Sanity prevailed finally and he tucked his cock back in his breeches. "If Mace finds out your life and honor will be ruined."

Alerie remained on her knees, her flushed, tired face expressionless. "I'm doing this for the future of my house. Should you ask for more, I shall give it. He need not know."

"More? To go as far as to bed another man? Where is your honor, my lady?" Robert asked her, extending his hand.

Alerie Hightower accepted it with a graceful nod and rose to her full height. "Honor is useless to those who gain nothing from it."

Sadly, I agree with that.

"What do you want?" He asked her straightforwardly.

Lady Alerie dabbed her lips clean with a piece of cloth that Robert handed before answering. "A chance for House Tyrell. Margaery is young, beautiful, and fertile. She'll be a devoted wife to you and a nurturing mother to your trueborn heirs."

The same ploy they played during the Dance. Robert saw through it. The game would start from marriage, and then the House Tyrell would demand a seat on the Small Council. Slowly, the Tyrells would stretch their influence everywhere.

"A chance! Only one chance. I won't make any promises to the Martells during my stay in Dorne. The rest depends on whether your daughter can impress me," Robert declared and walked over to the door, opening it for Lady Alerie. "We're done here."

Lady Alerie nodded silently and headed to leave the room. But just before she exited the door, she sized up Robert with her eyes, her gaze lingered for a few moments on his still visible erection. Then, she gave out an audible sigh and left.

He noticed it but tried to ignore it. Ever since he had woken up as Robert, the number of women who had tried to bed him had exceeded his imagination. From maids to maidens, from smallfolks to noble ladies—all wanted a piece of the King's pie.

Better focus on the journey.

####

As the morning dawned, Robert left the Red Keep and moved to the docks with five Kingsguard and almost five hundred Baratheon soldiers. The Royal Fleet was one of the three strongest naval fleets in Westeros.

Soon, Robert boarded his personal ship, King Robert's Hammer, the largest and the fiercest ship in the Royal Fleet with its four hundred oars and massive sails. It was named after himself, and built for his use. Complete with a large King's cabin, and more comfortable cabins for any guests onboard.

It was escorted by other fierce war galleys such as Bold Wind, Seaswift, and Lionstar. Furthermore, eight more war galleys of varying sizes were to follow and secure the King's Ship.

He could have taken the road, but he reckoned that would have been far more exhausting and time-consuming when their goal was to reach Sunspear. It didn't make sense to traverse the entire Dorne on land just to reach its easternmost shore.

"Barristan, get us moving!" Robert ordered from his ship's deck.

Quickly, Ser Barristan signaled the ship's captain, and from there the flags were raised to signal the other ships. Soon after, the ships entered Blackwater Bay and made their way past Dragonstone to finally enter the sea waters.

Turning right from the Sharp Point, the weeks-long journey began. For Robert, there was nothing to do but train with his five Kingsguards, sleep, eat, and repeat. All the while their prisoner, the infamous Gregor Clegane, remained in the ship's deepest, damp cells, almost crippled.

"Again!" Robert boomed at the Kingsguards to spar again. "Put some weight in it!"

The men feared harming the King, but at the same time feared being injured by the King. It was a frustrating enigma that they found themselves facing every day.

Thankfully, Robert never made them bleed.

####

As Robert's fleet moved south, House Stark's army moved North to return to Winterfell. With the war over, justice was met, and Robb Stark only wanted to escort the prisoners to the Wall and be done with it.

But he still remained sharp, unsure if Tywin Lannister might try something to get his son back. Thankfully, they neared Riverlands in no time and gained more Tully men for their protection. However, that was when they heard the voice.

"Robb! Robb!"

From a horse going towards King's Landing, Robb Stark heard a feminine voice calling his name. He raised his arms and halted the march quickly and looked at the figure. A lone, hooded man on the horse with a smaller figure seated in front of him.

"Arya?!" Robb jumped down from his horse and ran up to the other horse. "Is that you, Arya?!"

He barely recognized her since her hair was cut too short. She looked more like a boy than a girl.

"Robb!" Arya jumped from the horse and ran up to Robb, embracing him quickly and crying her eyes out. She even hugged Catelyn who approached them. "Mother!"

At that point, the hooded man also got down from the horse and greeted Robb. "My Lord."

Robb chuckled and simply went over and hugged the man. "Jon!"

It was a short family reunion.

However, Catelyn remained steadfast and dismissive of the Stark bastard. She kept Arya close by her side and, with a sharp nod towards Jon, inquired, "King Robert has summoned you, then?"

"Aye, my Lady." Jon nodded stiffly.

"You did well to find Arya," Catelyn said with a faint, approving nod. "But you must make haste. Do not keep the King waiting."

"I understand, My Lady." Jon turned to Robb and bid his farewell. He went closer and clasped hands with his half-brother. "I'm sure you'll make Lord Stark proud."

"I'll try to. Don't forget your home whilst in King's Landing, Jon. It's the real pit of snakes."

"I'll remember then," Jon said and waved at Arya before mounting his horse. "Take care, Arya."

"If Sansa requests, you must escort her to Winterfell later," Catelyn ordered just before Jon left. Her tone made everyone there displeased. That was not how one asks for a favor.

"I will," Jon humbly replied and galloped away on the horse.

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