"Do as I say. Send Rhaea now and then prepare a ship tonight. We leave for Braavos."
"A man wonders… is the work now complete?"
Robert scowled and shook his head. "Do as I commanded. I'll have it finished by nightfall. I've heard enough, and I'm done with questions. Westeros has been without its king long enough."
Jaqen nodded and pulled his hood back on his head. "A ship is asked. A ship shall be made ready. It will bear the mark of the Many-Faced God."
In silence, Robert watched Jaqen leave and vanish in the crowds at Meereen's port. It was a strange feeling, deciding the future before even setting the end in motion.
Sighing, he looked at his callus hands, fingers thick as an infant's nimble limbs. He knew there was no man in the city, nor an army that could stop him from committing to his next actions.
There was no creature in the city that could pose a threat to him. Perhaps, none in the known world.
There was no army that could stop him.
####
As night came, Robert had supper with Daenerys before retiring to his room with a mutual understanding to meet with the Mother of Dragons later.
Daenerys got busy with her duties, managing a sudden fire that had erupted in the market area of Meereen. Robert decided to take a stroll at that time. He went down from the Great Pyramid, mapping the routes, the Unsullied.
A while before the decided meeting in the bed-chamber, he approached the lair that the dragons had made. Where Rhaegal and Viserion were kept chained and Drogon visited to rest.
There was no Unsullied standing guard there, even less so as the fire in the city demanded a lot of hands.
Grabbing a torch, he walked into the lair's entrance. Soon, he found a large, double-sided battle ax slanted beside the wall. Jaqen had done his job well delivering him the weapon.
After that, he kept walking through the narrow entrance and reached the wider, filthy-smelling lair of the three dragons. The creatures ate there, shat there, and burned the walls around them into a charred mess.
Crunch!
But more than that, the traces of blood and human bones on the floor made Robert colder. It seemed the nobles he caught at Astapor and Yunkai weren't the first human sacrifices.
"Grrrr…"
Robert ignored the deafening grumble of the creatures and lit the torches near the wall to illuminate the lair. He made sure there were three dragons first.
As soon as he saw two chained and one unchained, sleeping in the back, Robert gripped the battle ax hard and started walking. From his mere presence, Rhaegal and Viserion seemed to cower, shrinking their necks and stepping backward weakly, closer to the side walls. Their large eyes which usually showcased fury, looked rather tame.
Ignoring the two, Robert kept going and soon reached Drogon, its eyes already open but without much movement.
"Move, damn you!" Robert bellowed at the giant beast. "Stand and fight, or I'll cut you down where you crawl! Take this for mercy—a warrior's death!"
He didn't know if the dragon understood him. They were said to be wise beings, he remembered.
But Drogon showed no movements. The dragon stayed prone on the floor, its neck elongated, head flat, as if surrendering.
Bam!
Robert kicked the thick neck.
Still, Drogon didn't move an inch.
Frowning, Robert took a step back and tried to see what was wrong. There was no chain-binding Drogon. Its limbs looked perfectly fine too. There was no injury anywhere.
The head!
Then he remembered his last fight with it. He'd smashed hard on its head, knocking it out.
Quickly, Robert checked Drogon's eyes. They weren't fully open and had a look of confusion in them. As if it didn't even recognize him, or worse, couldn't make sense of what was in front of it. Even the other two dragons had more life in their gaze, they showed reactions.
More than that, Drogon should have been more feral in his presence.
"Did I… make it retarded?" Robert wondered, smacking his foot on Drogon's snout. But the eyes remained unfocused, like one of those unfortunate children born with defects he'd seen before.
At that point, a realization dawned on him. The true reason why Daenerys allowed him to fuck her like a common whore. Why she so willingly submitted to him without even a proper understanding of him?
She lost a dragon and wanted him to replace it.
Almost with pity, Robert looked at the fine creatures, the last of their kind. But sadly, their time was done.
"That's what you meant to your mother. As soon as you turned simple, she tossed you aside for some fat-cocked oaf who couldn't even speak like a human," Robert murmured and walked back to the side of Drogon's neck. "I'll make it quick."
In a snap, he raised the ax high with both hands, aimed at the neck and…
Swoosh!
Hot, burning dragon blood gushed out at the wound. Robert struck with such power that its entire neck was severed. Of course, Drogon wasn't a full adult or it would have been impossible.
In the flash of a moment, the mighty dragon lost its life.
Finally, Robert glanced at Viseryon and Rhaegal. They were smaller than Drogon for some reason.
"You two can fight me, or die in peace." Robert used much of his strength to dash forward. By now he'd gained complete control over his inhuman body, or else he'd have crushed the women he lay with.
His leg muscles strained as he leaped off into the air and landed on Viseryon's back. The dragon tried to wriggle and throw him off, but in that confined lair and the chains, there wasn't much room to move.
"Haaaa!"
From the back of the neck, Robert slashed and beheaded the creature.
By then, Rhaegal understood the danger and unleashed a torrent of flames at Robert, burning its own sibling in the process.
Shhh…~
The sizzling sound of the fire melting Viseryon's flesh resonated in the lair.
Robert avoided being burned by hiding behind Viseryon's severed head. And while Rhaegal's focus was still on the main body, Robert rushed forward. The way he moved, the speed he had was unmatched by any creature. He'd stopped questioning it, but he could feel it.
A man like him shouldn't exist. Something so beyond belief and common sense.
Thud!
Rhaegal tried to stomp around and keep Robert away. But he was too fast and from underneath Rhaegal's belly, made a long, horizontal slash, splitting the dragon's weakest flesh apart.
He was fast and before the blood could fall on him, he slid out from the other end. But to keep Rhaegal from dying slowly and making too much noise, he climbed back onto its writhing body and aimed for the head.
"Rest well, you beautiful thing… You were made for a different time."
The scent of dragon blood filled the entire lair. All noise died down, only the faint sounds of the flickering torches were left.
Finally, Robert doused all the torches in the lair and left through the narrow passage. He left the battle-axe behind and then found a change of clothes Jaqen had prepared beforehand.
Fixing his appearance, he climbed back up the Great Pyramid and returned to his bedchamber to wipe his face. From the window of the room, he could see the distant smoke through the torches in the city. The fire had been doused, it appeared.
Then, he walked over to the nearby cupboard and grabbed a sharp, small danger, hiding it in the waistband of his breeches.
"You're here!" The door opened just then and Daenerys walked in, looking like a mess. "The fire is finally under control."
Looking tired, dressed in a loose sleeping gown with thin shoulder straps, she walked over to the bed and laid down on it, eying Robert the whole time.
"It took almost a thousand Unsullied to douse the flames," Daenerys murmured about the situation before a cynical smile escaped her lips. A wicked, meaningful smile that carried pleasure in what she would be doing to her victims. "When I learn who is behind this, they will know the taste of Dragonfire."
Robert noticed that smile from the mirror and finally turned around and looked at Daenerys, ignorantly resting on the bed, ready to get fucked out of her mind. The blush on her face seemed as if she was looking forward to it.
"Aye, the arsonist should be punished," Robert responded, not talking crassly anymore. But Daenerys didn't seem to notice.
Slowly, Robert crawled up on the bed from the foot side and then kept going up, straddling her ankles, then her thighs before finally, straddling her ample breasts between his massive thighs.
He looked down at her excited little face, her arms spread wide in surrender and invitation. Seemingly eager to have him shove his cock in her mouth like that. But he knew why she was doing all this. Why she gave herself up to him so shamelessly.
"I fear I cannot move much tonight, Lord Ned… so do as you please. I will not stop you… I mean it."
As he'd expected. She was ready to be pumped underneath his cock any which way, as long as she could secure his might and loyalty.
"Aye… as I please," Robert muttered, his voice low, heavy with old grief. His rough hand brushed over her pale, slender neck—fragile as a swan's. Truly, she was far too beautiful to be deserving of this fate but her mind harbored madness. "And I choose this."
"Argh!"
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