A Song of Ice and Fire

Title: Robert Baratheon: The Lecher King of Westeros by GOT88

Synopsis:

During the final days of his life, King Robert Baratheon summons a young scribe from the Citadel so that his many exploits can recorded in the tomes of history.

Genre: Idk maybe Adventure(😏😉)

Rated: M

Words: 164k+

Status: In-Progress

Spoilers:

Chapter 1: Prologue

A young scribe named Gawen is seated at the desk in the King's chambers of the Red Keep. The King had requested a capable scribble from the Citadel as he wished to have his life's story to be recorded properly. Not an unusual request but certainly strange since the histories of most previous Kings were usually recorded by accounts of the Grand Maester and other reputable sources. And it was generally done after the said monarch's reign had ended.

However, King Robert Baratheon was unlike most men. He wished his story to be put down on parchment based on his own accounts and not the skewed views of maesters and men who did not truly know him. And so Gawen had been dispatched for the task.

"So, you're the one that those grey rats sent to write my life's story. You not a maester I can tell by the lack of a chain," the elderly King greeted gruffly as he entered the chambers. Despite his advanced age, the King was incredibly spry and fit for his age as he was able to move around without any sort of aid.

"Aye…uh…your grace, I am novice in training. My name is Gawen," the young scribe answered as he fumblingly bowed to the King.

"But I assure you that I am a skilled scribe which is why the Archmaesters chose me for this important task," Gawen added, hoping that the King would not feel offended.

The King found his nervousness amusing and let out a chuckle before telling to take a seat while he ordered the servants to pour two cups of wine for them.

Gawen politely refused stating that he needed to be alert so that no mistake would be made while he worked. The King simply nodded and proceeded to inform the scribe as to what he expected from him.

"Like I told those Archmaesters, I want the future generations to know my true-life story and not some second hand account of it. Although, I feel by the time we're finished, both you and your superiors will probably decide that this record should be hidden away in some deep dark corner of the Citadel, never to see the light again," King Robert said, causing confusion to spread across Gawen's face.

"Instead of speaking of my early life as a young knight before my ascension to the throne, I wanted to start at a particular incident that took place 16 years into my reign which not only changed the course of the rest of my life but also possibly the fate of Westeros itself."

The rays of the sun pierced through the tree covers of the Kingswood as his hunting party moved through it, following the tracks of a boar that had been sighted by him. His spear was in his hand, following the trail of his prey was one of the few times when he truly felt alive.

Robert knew that he should not complain about his life, after all he is the King of Westeros who had won a legendary victory against the most powerful dynasty that the world had ever seen. He had everything that a man could wish for – a beautiful Queen, healthy heirs, wealth, respect & the power to do as he pleased. When men spoke of him, they talked of the mighty Demon of the Trident who had defeated the Mad Dragons and forged a new dynasty by taking the beautiful Cersei Lannsiter, daughter of the great Lord Tywin Lannister as his bride.

But that was all just an illusion. If he was being truthful; Cersei was a cold, spiteful shrew who constantly hounded his nerves. Her pride and sense of entitlement was not surprising since she was a Lannister but she had the nerve to question and mock his decisions at every turn. She had given him two sons and a daughter but Cersei ensured that they rarely spent time with him. It was fine with Robert as they shared nothing in common with him. They took after their mother, not just in looks but nature as well. Well, at least Joffrey did, who seemed to be the female version of Cersei with his Lannister looks and prissy nature whereas Tommen and Myrcella were Lannister in looks but of gentle and kinder nature in comparison to their mother and elder brother.

At times, he felt that he was surrounded by a golden-haired army as both the Red Keep and King's Landing was filled with his Lannister relations. Each of them, lickspittles and sycophants trying to win his favor.

Though to be honest, his own family was no joy either, as both his brothers were annoying pricks in their own right. Stannis constantly had a stick up his arse and was often vocal about his disapproval of Robert's attitude and decisions while Renly tried too hard to earn Robert's approval with his fancy balls and japes. He constantly felt like they were trying to suck the life out of him.

His Hand, Lord Jon Arryn who was like a second father to him was the one of the few reasons that he could tolerate living in this shit smelling city of plotters and schemers.

But even with Jon's calming presence, he often felt the need to get away from them which is how he found himself on another one of his hunts. Robert only felt alive when had had either a drink or weapon in his hands or when he was between the legs of a beautiful wench. Drinking, Fighting and Fucking was the motto of Robert's life. In his youth, these pursuits brought him great pleasure but now all he had were pale and cheap imitations of them as he no longer had any great foes to slay on the battlefield or great maidens to seduce but only wild pigs to hunt and whores to bed. He constantly drank to forget his frustrations and the emptiness of his own life.

Robert took another gulp from his wine skin as he spotted his prey in a clearing ahead. He threw the wineskin towards his Lannister whelp of a squire and ordered the rest of his party to stay behind as he moved in for the kill. He readied his spear and moved towards the boar. His wine was starting to take effect as his balance faltered for a moment and he fell upon a few broken twigs. The crunching sound of the twigs alerted the boar to his presence who suddenly charged towards him. Robert tried to move but realized with dread that he wouldn't be able to dodge the tusks of the wild pig as his life flashed before his eyes.

Suddenly, the boar's charge was disrupted as it was struck by a crossbow bolt. Upon turning back, he saw that his loyal Kingsguard, Ser Barristan had grabbed a crossbow from one of the guards and fired the shot when he saw that the King's life was in peril.

'What luck!'

Robert thought to himself as he quickly grabbed his spear and threw it at the boar with all the strength that he could muster.

The spear struck the boar's side but it still wouldn't go down. The boar tried to flee but was quickly brought down by two more bolts fired by his guards who had rushed towards him.

Ser Barristan inquired after him but he dismissed all concerns away and ordered to set camp for the night and instructed that they would return to the city on the morrow.

That night, as the boar was roasted upon the campfire, his men toasted to his hunting prowess but Robert felt hollow as he realized that the kill wasn't his completely. He probably would have been gutted by the boar's tusks if not for the timely intervention of his guards.

In his youth, the strong muscular Demon of the Trident could have brought down a mighty lion single handedly but the fat bellied King that he saw in the mirror couldn't even kill a wild pig.

"I think that I'll take a walk to clear my head," Robert announced as he waved both Ser Barristan and his guards away, stating that he wished to be alone for a few moments.

"Your grace…" his loyal white knight began to voice protest.

"I'll be all right, Barristan. Trust me," Robert answered to cut him off while assuring him that he would be fine.

Reluctantly, the Kingsguard obeyed while Robert proceeded towards a grassy clearing that was located at a distance from where the camp had been set up. It was close enough to the camp that Robert could call out for aid if need arose but far enough that he could be alone with his thoughts.

As Robert stood in the clearing, he felt the strong cold winds wash over his form as he dwelled upon the state of his life.

He had spent far too long, trapped in his castle, allowing himself to grow weak and complacent in a life filled with wine and common whores. His depressing existence had robbed of his will and strength and very nearly resulted in his demise if not for a stroke of good luck.

But now after starring death in the face, Robert had begun to remember who he was and how sweet life had been in the past. His memories caused warmth to spread across his body as his blood surged with excitement once again.

Robert vowed that he would not squander his second chance at life. He would his life to the fullest again. He wanted to relive the thrill and glory of his past days. He wanted to feel the victory brought through battle and conquest, and most importantly he wanted to experience the pleasure of true highborn and beautiful ladies in his bed again.

'Look out, maidens of Westeros, the Demon is back.'

Note:

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