####
The ship wasn't luxurious, but since there were no other passengers than Robert, Missandei, and Jaqen, there were two or three private cabins with a bed.
For a few hours, Robert stayed seated at the edge of the bed where he'd laid down Missandei. He waited for her to wake up so she wouldn't be too shocked or scared. While doing that, he took a quick nap while sitting.
"Lord Ned?"
He opened his eyes and found her awake, staring at him in confusion. The drift of the ship was likely known to her by now.
"Are you well?"
Missandei nodded and glanced around at the small, cramped cabin. "W-Where are we? Where are we going? What happened?"
"We're bound for Braavos," Robert answered truthfully. "No, they're not with us. Best you leave that life behind, girl."
A frowning crease formed between her brows. "W-What happened?"
"A disaster averted, that's what it was. Forget Daenerys and her bloody dragons. Forget Meereen, forget your old life." Robert repeated, hoping she'd take his intentions well. "Did you know she was feeding men to those beasts long before we brought Yunkai and Astapor's captured nobles?"
To Robert's surprise, Missandei nodded as she sat up and rested her back against the flat headboard of the bed.
"I did, Lord Ned. I-I tried to suggest that she don't but… She said the bodies of the lords we crucified would only rot, wasted. So she bid Grey Worm to feed them to the dragons, each in the order of their passing. O-Once all the crucified lords were eaten, she sent murderers and rapists to the dragons and then… any noble that opposed her."
Robert sighed, finding solace in that knowledge. There was no need to doubt his actions, it seemed. But he knew Missandei would be emotional. Daenerys was a lot more to her than him.
Slowly, he slid closer to her on the bed and sat right beside her, his back against the headboard. Then, he took her soft hand in his larger palm.
"Daenerys told me plainly—she wanted to wage war all the way to Westeros. I asked her, what then? When she has the Iron Throne, the crown on her head. She said she'd keep fighting. End the bloodlines, burn the houses of every noble who rose against her father." Robert's voice was hard. "That's the truth of it."
Robert continued to explain, his words crucial to the help he wanted to give her.
"Missandei, I was there. Daenerys' father was no king, only a mad butcher. He raped his own wife, left her broken and weeping. His mind rotted—he saw enemies where there were none, and called for lords to die over whispers and shadows. He burned the Lord of House Stark and his son alive. The Targaryens lost their throne to madness, not steel. Daenerys' rage was a fool's fire, stoked by revenge and blind to reason. And in her, I saw… the Mad King, but worse… with dragons."
Missandei looked up sideways at his face. "But you said… you were captured from Westeros at a young age."
"I lied, Missandei. I came to Meereen for a reason. I wanted to look Daenerys in the eye and talk sense into her. Find a peaceful end to all this. Give her a chance. Give her dragons a chance. But the truth? From the moment I saw her, there was nothing but blood, fire, and unchecked ambition. No mercy. No care for ruling, only conquering. Seven hells! I had to conquer back what she won with smoke and slaughter. To her, Slaver's Bay was a game before the real war. I've done what I came for… but I couldn't bring myself to harm you. You're innocent in all this."
Teary-eyed, Missandei looked down, holding back from crying. Hearing him talk like that was enough to know what may have happened to Daenerys.
"I owed her my life. I had no hope and she gave me one. She freed me."
"Even a lion spares a lamb when it's full. And you were…. A useful lamb," Robert replied.
Missandei suddenly threw herself closer to Robert's chest, sulking while holding back tears. "I tried to stop her before it was too late… I tried. Eventually… I blinded my heart to it all and…"
"It wasn't your fault. It runs in their blood."
She looked up at his face again, a little scared in addition to shaken. "W-What's to become of me now?"
Robert pulled her close, his thick arm strong around her back. His voice was low but steady. "You have a choice, girl. I'll give you gold, enough to live like a queen in Braavos till you're old and grey… or you come back to Westeros with me. You're a beauty—no denying it. I'll find you a good young lord with a kind heart. That I swear."
A lot of gold and the ability to command Lords?
Gathering her grief, Missandei confusedly pulled her body back from him to get a better look at his face.
"If you're not Ned, then who are you?"
"I'm the King."
####
Robert had promised the men of the Iron Bank that when he'd return, he'd spell doom for them. It took him months, but finally, he was back.
After hiring another ship to take him to Westeros in a few days, he settled Missandei and Rhaea on it. Both of the women had chosen to join him in Westeros willingly. So, he ensured their safety first, and then, made his way to the Iron Bank alone.
He entered the building alone as a simple customer. No escorts, no bank representatives greeting him. He had no way of validating himself as the King. He went to the teller behind an enclosed window secured with metal bars. Only small, day-to-day business merchants came there to deposit or withdraw money.
Finally, when Robert approached the front of the line, he smiled at the man behind the window.
"These bars won't save you."
"Sorry? What busin—"
BAM!
Robert smashed his hand right through the metal bars, bending them, splitting them apart, and taking the teller in a chokehold. I am Robert Baratheon! King of the Seven bloody Kingdoms! You treacherous rats! You set me against the Golden Company?! Where's that bastard? Bring me Tycho Nes-some-damn-thing—whatever his whore of a mother named him!"
"G-Ghk… G-Guards!"
Robert sighed at the man's reaction. "You blind, coin-clutching fool. I ripped through steel with my bare hands. You think your tin-plated guards will fare better?"
At his declaration, the armored guards of the bank did hesitate. But it was their job, so they rushed and attempted to stab him with their spears.
"Have it your way then." Robert released the teller and focused on the men. "Slow little things!"
No fear, no hesitation, Robert snatched the thrust spear from the guard's grasp and turned it on them. With ease, he stabbed the foot of one and the shoulder of the other, injuring them non-fatally.
Done with that, he looked back at the teller behind the metal window. On the right side was also a metal door that led deeper into the bank.
"I'm coming for you all! I promised it."
BOOM!
A kick that could smash a dragon's skull. What was a steel door to him? As soon as he slammed his foot on the door, its hinges gave away and it flew in like an iron plate. Chaos spread instantly after that. The other tellers ran away while more guards started pouring in from outside.
Robert was quick on his feet and followed the tellers. Not killing any, he knocked whoever came in his way and door after door, and he kept entering deeper into the bank without any idea where he actually was.
"Tycho! Bring him to me!" He kept shouting in hopes someone would point him towards the man.
Bam!
He punched and kicked whatever door stood in his way. Perhaps in the Iron Bank's history, this was the first break-in. Such a straightforward one at least.
Slowly, Robert found himself in the same hallway he had been in the last time. So, he followed the path he knew and eventually, arrived inside the massive chamber with a high, marble table and three chairs. The same place where he was betrayed.
"There you are!"
Robert roared at the sight. Just like that time, he saw three bank representatives sitting on the high seats. In the middle was Tycho Nestoris.
"You! You little shit!" Robert launched himself forward using his inhuman speed and strength. He didn't even glance at the man Tycho was entertaining. Instead, he jumped on the small visitor's bench first, and from there he took into the air with a great leap, spear in his hand, aimed right at Tycho.
BOOM!
Crack!
He landed on the massive, block-like marble table. It cracked from the sheer force of his landing.
"You!" Robert roared, standing on the table, his spear leveled at Tycho's face. "How does it feel, eh? To stand before the point of a blade? I warned you back then, but your smug face knew only greed. You sold me to the Golden Company like a sack of copper. For that, I should—"
"Your Grace?!"
It'd been a long while since he last heard someone call him that. And he also recognized the voice.
"Davos?"
"It is you! Your Grace!" Davos jumped to his feet, excitement unquestionable. "You're alive!"
"No bloody shit! I nearly died." Robert threw a glare back at Tycho. "Thanks to these treacherous whoresons. Sold me off to the Golden Company—and that piss-drinking Pretender Targaryen. On your feet. All three of you."
Tycho Nestoris maintained a diplomatic smile. "Your Grace, I'm sure we can come to an agreement. The past grievances—"
Slash!
"Aaaargh!"
Robert slashed the arm of the man on Tycho's right, shearing through flesh and bone. "Enough talk. I swore I'd burn this damned bank to the ground, and by the gods, I will. Now take me to your bloody vaults! Let's see if your gold screams when it burns!"
The bank representative, now without one arm, fell down from his seat, crying in pain.
Tycho finally started shivering and stood up. But his legs shivered even more. "Y-Your Grace… It–it's not wise to make enemies—"
Slash!
This time, the man on Tycho's left lost an arm and fell.
"Next one will be you. Now move!" He kicked Tycho aside and marched after him. "You've made an enemy of me. I crushed half the Golden Company and scattered the rest to the wind. Who'll you scrape up next? Bring them on! I'll cut them down just the same."
Frightened more than ever in his life, Tycho led him deeper into the Bank. But it was hard for him to keep his mouth shut.
"Your G-Grace… I'm sure we can compensate you for your lost time and energy. W-We can… Yes, we can erase all the debt owed by the Crown to us."
"Hah! You'll be doing that anyway—and twice as much besides."
Following that, Robert forced the man to lead him to the vaults. There were a lot of them and there were armed guards. Robert dealt with them easily while keeping a hold on Tycho's neck. A few kicks always solved all enemies. Human bodies were just not resilient enough.
Almost an hour later, Robert shoved Tycho into the biggest vault of the Iron Bank. He also grabbed the other representatives going about their work and shoved them into the vault.
Finally, he closed the vault's massive doors and kept a small, walkable slit open. Then he looked at the groaning guards littered on the floor. One of them was barely hurt on purpose.
"You! Aye, you," he barked, pointing a thick finger. "Run off and tell your Sea Lord this—The Demon of Essos stands before him, and he wears the crown of King Robert Baratheon. Tell him I've slain dragons and their mother. Tell him I smashed the Golden Company to splinters, and if he's hungry for blood, I'll feed him steel."
He paused, a grin creeping under his beard. "And if not? Then he can pay the bounty. Not for these rats called representatives, but for this cursed bank. I want the debts wiped clean—and five million gold dragons, paid straight to me. King Robert Baratheon."
Right away, the guard ran like he'd seen the devil.
####
Hours later, a retinue of men came armed to the teeth. They bore no sigil but clearly belonged to the Sea Lord. There were 50 of them, all with their blades drawn.
"So that's what you've chosen." Robert, who'd been sitting in front of the closed vault's gate, stood up with the spear in hand. "I overestimated Braavosi wisdom."
"I am the First Sword of Braavos. I bring words from the Sea Lord himself. He will speak of clearing all debts… and grant safe passage from his city. This is his gift, Your Grace. But gifts from Braavos are not given lightly."
"Bah! You can fuck off then." Robert sat down on the floor again, arms crossed.
But the First Sword stayed, almost as if hiding a smirk. "He also wishes to inform you that King's Landing is currently under siege by Lannister, Ironborn, and Dornish forces."
Robert didn't flinch and kept his mouth shut. It wasn't new information to him. Braavos was filled with murmurs about King's Landing.
"And…" the First Lord continued. "The Sea Lord shares whispers from across the Narrow Sea. He hears House Tyrell shall join the siege—all for the babe Margaery Tyrell has given you, Your Grace."
This was news to him. He'd learned that Margaery was pregnant once he arrived at Braavos but the birth was unexpected.
No time to waste here.
Robert got up once again, a sense of bloodthirst oozing from him. Spear hard in his grip, he glared at the men before him.
"Two days! Bring every man you've got, and I'll cut them down, one by bloody one! Or take my terms, and we end it here and now."
"You can fight thousands of men?" Asked the First Sword with a smirk.
Robert said nothing to that.
"After two days, I'll put this whole damned place to the torch."
The First Sword of Braavos raised his sword. 50 men behind him followed suit.
"So be it, Your Grace. You're a dead man anyway."
______________________
Check out Robert X Myrcella rough NSFW ART, ADVANCE chapters at [email protected]/MrPlotThickens Or Subscribestar.adult/mrplotthickens
Advance chapters on [PATREON] are in long-form format. I have 5 long chapters of this story on Patreon. That's equal to 15-20 Webnovel chapters.
Old Free Art on Discord: https://discord.gg/W5FdB6WXaP