Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

Chapter 350: Robert’s Fury

Oldtown is a key city in the Seven Kingdoms. Its importance cannot be overstated—when Aegon the Conqueror arrived with his two wives, one of his greatest achievements was winning over the Church, the Citadel, and House Hightower to his side.

After the "Dragonstone Duel," Robert and his entourage returned to King’s Landing briefly. Following a short meeting, the group dispersed, each man taking responsibility for his own defensive region. Ned Stark remained in King’s Landing, Edmure Tully returned to Riverrun, Brynden Tully to the Eyrie, and Renly Baratheon headed back to the Stormlands.

Tywin Lannister returned to the Westerlands with his two grandsons, while Ser Davos Seaworth, the Onion Knight, set sail for the Summer Isles with Princess Myrcella. Their mission was to forge an alliance with Salladhor Saan, the self-proclaimed Pirate King, the same man who provided Stannis with warships in the original timeline.

As for Stannis, having lost his fief and advisers, he had become a landless lord. He followed Robert to Harrenhal, bringing his own army. Harrenhal, the massive castle built by Black Harren through ruthless exploitation of the Riverlands, remained imposing despite its age. Its five massive Topless Towers and extraordinarily thick walls made it a stronghold capable of deterring even the fiercest attackers. Aegon the Conqueror had failed to burn down all of Harrenhal, and the most damaged area was known as the “Kingspyre Tower.” The rest of the castle was in disrepair, but still had the potential to be restored with sufficient resources.

Upon entering Harrenhal with his army, Robert immediately initiated major repairs to make the castle more presentable, so it wouldn't appear like the abandoned ghost town it had become over the years.

...

Inside Kingspyre Tower:

“I saw scouts from the Westerlands. Is Father coming?” Jaime Lannister asked Lancel, Robert’s squire.

“No, that’s a scout from Saltpans to the northeast. He’s delivering a message,” Lancel replied.

“A message?” Jaime asked, puzzled.

“Yes. It’s said to be from the Citadel. Since Harrenhal has no Maesters stationed here, they have to get their news from the nearest place—Saltpans.”

“Is Viserys preparing an attack?” Jaime pressed.

Lancel hesitated. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t? Then what is it?” Jaime asked impatiently.

“It seems to have something to do with the church,” Lancel said nervously.

“The church?” Jaime’s heart gave a sudden jolt. Without another word, he pushed past Lancel and made his way to the study—Robert’s war room.

The room was crowded with important figures. Six of the Kingsguard stood by, including Jaime. Stannis, having been summoned from King’s Landing, was there, as were several nobles from the Riverlands whom Jaime recognized. Littlefinger stood nearby, ever Robert's right-hand man, and Grand Maester Pycelle had been sent by Tywin to aid in the city’s defense.

As Jaime wove through the group, he saw they were gathered around a large map, discussing strategies for defending the city. It was then that he noticed Cersei standing next to Robert. Jaime's eyes lingered on her briefly, noting that despite the time that had passed, her belly had not grown at all. A sharp contrast to what he remembered from Catelyn Stark’s pregnancies.

Robert sat at the head of the table, overlooking the map. Davos Seaworth stood beside him, explaining the current situation.

"House Florent can hold back the Highgarden rebels around Brightwater Keep and Bandallon. Lord Renly can block any advance from Dorne at the Prince's Pass. But we still need to defend the Crackclaw Point," Daven said, tracing a line across the map.

"We’ve set up a defense around Maidenpool. If Viserys breaks through, Lord Ned and Lord Brynden can strike his forces from the Vale and the Crownlands," he continued, his voice strained under the pressure. Sweat trickled down his face as he worked through the battle plans.

Robert, leaning over the map, nodded grimly. "The Church has already begun forming an army, so we’ll have more than fifty thousand men at our disposal."

A heavy silence settled over the room. Jaime glanced at Petyr, who had just received a letter from one of the scouts, freshly arrived from the Citadel.

"Your Grace..." Petyr’s voice faltered, and his chest tightened as if the air had been sucked out of him. He struggled to get the words out. "The Church... they’ve broken with us."

With a shaking hand, Petyr placed the letter on the table before Robert. The king’s eyes fell on the parchment, and his gaze froze on two glaring words: Usurper and Godless. It felt like a blow to the face.

Standing beside him, Cersei slowly closed her eyes, tilting her head away as the weight of the news sank in.

Robert’s lips began to tremble as he stared at the letter. For a full minute, he said nothing. Then another minute passed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Robert leaned his heavy frame against the back of his chair and spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "Stannis, Petyr, Jaime, Pycelle—stay. Everyone else, leave."

At last, the tension broke. The men Robert had addressed remained, while the others exchanged uneasy glances and hurried out of the room. Those who stayed felt as though the air had thickened around them, heavy with unspoken dread. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, trickling down their faces, but none dared move to wipe it away.

Cersei and her handmaiden were the last to leave, and just as they closed the door behind them, they heard the roar from inside.

"This is an order! An order from the king! How dare they defy the king’s command!" Robert bellowed, slamming his massive fist down on the table with a force that rattled the map and cups before him. His voice thundered in the room.

"I granted them the privilege to raise an army, and they dare turn against me! I am their king! King!" His voice cracked with fury. "Everyone fawns over Viserys just because he has a few bloody dragons! If I had the dragon eggs, I could hatch dragons too—my grandmother was a Targaryen princess!"

His words tumbled out, raw and angry. "After I overthrew the Targaryens, those nobles who swore loyalty to me turned out to be two-faced cowards, sons of whores! What thanks did I get for saving Barristan Selmy and keeping him on the Kingsguard? Viserys flies a dragon over his head, and Barristan would rather throw his life away than serve me anymore!"

Robert’s booming voice filled the small chamber, making Littlefinger wince. Even with his usual soft-spoken manner, Petyr’s ears rang from the intensity.

"And you, Stannis!" Robert spat, his finger pointing at his brother. "It’s your fault for giving me that wretched advice! If I hadn’t listened to you, we wouldn’t have lost Dragonstone! Now we’ve failed to stop Viserys’s fleet, and the Church has turned its back on us! I should’ve dealt with that damned Red Witch the moment I saw her! I want her dead—no, I want every man in the camp to have their way with her, and then the horses too!"