What If Robert Baratheon Stayed Fit and Ruled Like a True King

What if Robert Baratheon stayed fit and ruled like a true king? Let's explore the depths of it in the video. Rob finds Robert under the godswood of the Red Keep. There, the newly made king sits under the trees ma. Its face is twisted into a sorrowful visage that mirrors Robert's own emotions. However, he hardly notices it as he sips from his wineskin. I thought I'd find you here. He grace. Robert is so caught up in his drink that he does not hear Ned until he speaks. The king gasps and jumps back, surprised, and stares at him. >> Ned, what are you doing here? Apparently, startling the king. I hope you don't lose your reflexes like that when you're older. It was his attempt at a joke, and he saw it fall flat. Ned's face lingers on his friend, wondering what else he might want to say. Truthfully, it is rather awkward for them to talk. When they last saw each other, that had been during the encounter in the Red Keep after Tywin presented the bodies of Rhaegar's family to them. At the time, emotions were fraught and tempers flared. Ned could hardly contain his disgust about this matter, and Robert's inability to condemn them had upset him. The two of them had not spoken to each other since, and it was why he did not take Robert with him to the Tower of Joy. But as he returns with only bones and secrets, all the fire in his heart had melted away. And now he just wishes to be there for his friend. I am sorry about Lyanna. She was your sister, Ned. Why are you apologizing to me? Because I know how much you treasured her. She was your love, Robert, and why all this began. I'm not so small-hearted enough to think that she only had room to love one of us. She cared for you, my friend. And this only makes this worse. All of this for her. And yet, it was all for nothing. All I have is this damned chair that I can't even sit properly. What does it mean to be king? It means that you still have a responsibility and it is what she would have wanted. He pauses wondering if he should stay longer. His friend was hurting and the last thing he wanted to do was pile on further. But the memory of Lyanna is still fresh in his mind and he cannot bring himself to ignore it now. Robert, you know Lyanna cared for you, but it is also why she had her problems with you. She worried about your drinking and whoring and questioned whether you would have been faithful to her. I would have. >> I know. And yet she still questioned it. After all that, do you think that maybe it is time to change it? You may not be able to hold her again, but you may still become the man worthy of it. And Arona. The two friends look at one another. Ned pauses and then joins the king, sitting beside him beneath the heart tree. They pass the wineskin back and forth. After what seems like hours, Ned excuses himself and heads back to his chambers. He offers to walk Robert to his room as well. But the king says he will remain there for a few more minutes. Yet, as soon as Ned leaves, the king feels his eyes growing heavy, and he leans against the tree where he passes out. Soon, he finds himself back in the veil, and the sound of a child's laugh fills the air as he sees his young daughter, Maya Stone. A faint smile tugs on Robert's lips as he recalls this memory. Though it's only been a year, with everything that has happened, it feels closer to a lifetime. He watches as his younger self bounces the squealing babe on his lap and then shakes his head. Yet through the giggling, he hears something else. Another voice that he did not think he would ever hear again. As Robert leaves the castle chambers, he spots Lyanna in the courtyard with Ned. The two are in the midst of a conversation. >> He has a bastard. And that was before he even married me. How am I to be certain that he won't do it again? >> Sister, Robert is young and restless. Marriage will ground him, especially with you. I will not say he is as virtuous as a Septan, but he loves you. That is more than I can say for most of the other people father has presented to you. >> He loves you, Ned. He lusts after me. >> That is unfair to say >> perhaps, but if he truly loved as he says he does, wouldn't he make an effort to stop this? Yet he drinks just as often. How long will it be till he has another drunken slip up? >> Robert feels his chest tighten. He had taken many wounds throughout the war. Yet those words struck harder than anything else he had received. Whether it be Rhaegar or John Conington, none of them had to come close to that. He wants to tell himself that this is just a dream. His mind drunken, guilty, that this conversation never happened. But while he tries to tell himself that, he knows it is not true. Even if it never happened like this, he can sense it in his heart of hearts. This is what Lyanna felt. Robert shakes his head and feels tears sting his eyes. Soon enough, the conversation melts away and Robert wakes up beneath the weirwood yet again. Grunting, the king pushes himself to his feet and makes his way back into the throne room. The courtier are surprised to see Robert awake so early and looking so haggarded. John Aaron offers him a skin of wine, but Robert waves it off. The hand looks at Robert in surprise. Your grace, are you feeling ill? I am. I I suppose it would just be good to keep the clear head today when I'm ruling, right? >> Yes. Yes, indeed. The rest of his court tries to hide their surprise, though he has not been there for long. One thing many of them learn quickly is that Robert is fond of drink. As they begin to lay out the issues of the day, he leans closer and listens. Actually listens, rather than leaving it to John Aaron to handle. They talk about the ravages, the recent rebellion. Much of the Riverlands is in ruin and needs to be rebuilt. Not only that, but there is still much discontent. Many individual houses still burn for revenge. Whether it be from losing their influence to the kin they lost in the war, or for whatever reason, they wish for the crown to pay. A part of Robert wishes to ride out and confront these rebellious houses. While this is to secure his rule, it is simply because he longs for the front lines. Politics and ruling are new to him, but fighting is something he understands all too well. Yet he forces himself to keep a clear head and consider what he must do. Instead, he has a new idea. Rather than march his army out, Robert orders the still untouched and largely stable Westerlands to do their share. While Tywin protests and says that they are not his bannerman, Robert reminds him that they are now part of the royal family. That means they must do their share to keep the crown protected. Tywin cannot argue with that and Lannister troops soon march out to quell unrest in the Reach in Riverlands. Robert also does his part. He visits the Riverlands to survey the destruction they have suffered. There he sees the ruined villages and castles burned to the ground. Some of them were at the hands of the Targaryenss, but others were from his own troops and even Huster Tully. These houses had pledged themselves to the Targaryenss and taken up arms against him. While Robert does understand the need for it, he also sees the destruction, and it does take some of the sheen from his victory. As the royal party rides through the village, they are greeted by people, sunken eyes, and silence. Many are still dressed in rags and sheltering in the bones of ruined houses. Many of the lords are little better. While they have roofs over their heads, they also remain broken and their wealth confiscated. None has the means to offer aid even if they wanted to. Instead, Robert offers to fund their rebuilding. Though he had confiscated their lands, he at least offered them a means to rise again. For this task, he leaves his brother Stannis in charge. He also tasks him with winning back the houses of Crackclaw Point, which while not rebellious, are unfriendly to the ground. Yet, the biggest of these hurdles is Dorne, whose rebellious spirit remains bright, and unlike most, they have more reason to rebel than anyone else. The death of Ellie Martell and her children is still a fresh wound. Varys warns that there are rumors of the Dornish secretly raising banners. He advises Robert to nip this problem in the bud. Yet rather than sending armies, he instead sends Lord Aaron. The hand speaks to Prince Doran, relaying Robert's regrets and desires for peace. He even offers a heartfelt letter that the king has written himself. It does not satisfy them as they call for the Lannisters to be punished. Lord Aaron knows they cannot lose the Lannisters at this critical time and offers to dismiss Jaime Lannister. It would show Robert taking action and might even please Tywin to get his heir back. He also promises to curb Lannister influence. Yet, Prince Dorne sees right through this and rejects the offer. While he promises to call off his banners, he warns him that Dorne will not forget this misdeed and they will not welcome Robert as their king. However, they won't oppose his rule, if only because they know Dorne doesn't have the strength to rule. When Robert hears about this, he is dismayed, but finds it unsurprising. Instead, it becomes a lesson to him. While the realm might seem to be at peace, there is still much happening that he does not see. simmering discontent just below the surface. That means Robert must be ready to fight whenever the time comes. That discontent finally boils over in the Greyjoy rebellion. While many expect the war to break out and Dorne, the Iron Islands rise in a bid for independence. Hundreds of ships, including the mighty Iron Fleet, swarm the western coast, attacking Lannisport, Fair Isles, Stoneshore, and the Arbor. They win a few swift victories, but Robert does not give them time to consolidate. He gathers an army and orders the royal fleet to sail around the coast and confront them. Robert arrives in the Riverlands just as the Ironborn are repelled at Seagard. There he uses the castle as a staging ground to prepare for an attack. The few ships he does have with him are used to send troops to critical areas like the Westerlands and to ferry troops north. Yet Stannis is the one who cripples their power with a decisive battle on Fair Isles that clears the way for an invasion of the islands themselves. The invasion lasts half a year, but one by one, the islands are subdued and Robert accepts Balon Greyjoy surrender. As he walks among the troops, he sees how these soldiers look at him, regarding him as though he were a god amongst men, standing tall and proud. Among them is Ned. Looks like you haven't lost the touch of grace. Of course, damned me if I couldn't wage a proper war. It's the only thing I understand. At least this I can do. But counting coppers and listening to people complain. Now I understand what drove Aries mad. You're selling yourself short, Robert. I've heard you're handling yourself well. Well as I can, I suppose. With John Aaron whispering in one ear and Cersei yelling at me in the other. It isn't just that. You've been keeping a clear head. Lyanna would be proud of you. That means everything to Robert. And he sleeps much better that night. Yet, while this rebellion was meant to destabilize the realm, all it did was strengthen his hold. As many houses that initially opposed the king now rally around him after seeing his rapid response in defending their lands. By the time Robert returns to King's Landing, he is greeted as a conquering hero, and his political power is stronger than ever. With that, Stannis and Renley advise him to limit Lannister influence. They have noticed how Tywin asks more and more, helping appoint the king's guard and keeping some of his allies on the small council and worry he might soon dominate the court. Robert mulls this over and decides to enact one of John Aaron's suggestions and removes Jaime from the king's guard, replacing him with Sir Conre Penrose. He cites the King's Slayer's action against Aries. This is done with Tywin Lannister's blessing, and while he makes a show of being upset, he secretly rejoices at the prospect. However, one person who isn't pleased is Cersei. The two of them have always had a rocky relationship as neither truly wanted it. Now, as Robert returns to his quarters, Cersei storms in after him. >> What gives you the goal to dismiss my brother as if he were some back alley sally you found in the street of silk? >> He drove his sword through the back of the king he was protecting. Am I supposed to just cover my ears and pretend that didn't happen? >> He secured your throne. My family is the only reason you can sit on that damn chair. Get over yourself. He killed the decrepit old man. Do you have such low opinion of me that you don't think I could have killed him myself? >> It was my father who took the city for you. Did you forget that? >> He took it for himself. And did you think that I didn't know about this plan? He wanted it as much as me. >> You're lying. He wouldn't do that to Jaime. >> Really? Now, think about it, woman. He gets his perfect heir back. If you don't think Tarwin would use people to forward his ambition, then you don't know him. Look at you. I know damned well you don't want to be here. I certainly don't. But Lord Tywin does because it would mean his grandson gets to be king while we go on hating each other. >> How could I not hate you? You took him from me. >> Robert pauses to take a breath. His face reens in anger, but he speaks again, much calmer this time. I don't want to be your husband and you don't want to be my wife. You've made that clear. Yes, I did kill Rhaegar and I don't regret it. He took Lyanna from me and if he came back from the grave begging for forgiveness, I would seize my hammer and crush his skull next. But tell me, if he had taken your brother from you, would you behave any differently? Cersei is taken aback by these words. Strangely enough, she isn't angry. She had expected her husband to rage, to turn into that drunken fool she has seen during her wedding day. Still pining for a lost queen. Yet, this is a different man. She finds herself answering honestly. >> I would have clawed his eyes out. >> Then it's a good thing I only had the king slayer dismissed and not executed. All right. The way I see it, there are two ways moving forward. We can spend the rest of our lives making each other miserable, and we can make the most of this situation. >> And how would that go? Are you proposing a truce? >> I am proposing we act like husband and wife instead of two strangers. And in the spirit of that, I'll let you keep the king's layer. You can name him captain of your guard if you want, but he won't be serving on my king's guard. It was an attempt at a compromise, more than what Cersei was expecting. For once, she is left speechless and nods. >> That is acceptable. >> With that, she turns to leave, skirts swirling around her. Yet, as she goes, she glances back at Robert and offers a smile. >> And just so you know, if you did try to kill the mad king, he would have clawed your eyes out. Robert chuckles at this and waves her off. The next weeks pass with a strangeness that no one in the Red Keep had expected. Cersei no longer greets her husband with barbed words or icy silence. Robert no longer storms out of her chambers in a drunken rage. Instead, their quarrel beneath the heart of the matter has oddly softened them both. At first, the court is baffled. For years, they have grown accustomed to their bickering. But now, they see them at feasts, sitting beside each other without venom. Still not lovers, not even close to friends, yet somehow resembling partners. Robert by instinct tries to be generous. When Cersei demands a voice in the small council, he grants it, much to John Aaron's wary dismay and Stannis's open scowl. She sits proudly at the council table, draped in Lannister red and gold. And while her suggestions are often impractical, she at least feels as though she is being heard. The rest of them soon find a way to work around her while keeping her pacified, while keeping some elements of her ideas that are not entirely foolish. In open court, she proves far less restrained. When sering lords or petty petitioners waste the king's time, it is the queen who rises, her sharp tongue slicing through their excuses. While Robert makes an effort to plate them, he finds himself amused and secretly thankful at her dismissing them before they can pester him further. The king roars with laughter. And though the lords grumble, few forget that day. From then on, the lesser complaints dwindle. And then, to the great surprise of the realm, a year into this uneasy truce. Cersei bears him a child. The boy has dark hair and the queen's piercing eyes. Robert names him in honor of an old tale from Valyria that he half remembers. Though Cersei cares little for the name, she is too busy parading the child before the court, savoring the proof that Baratheon blood runs through her womb and dismissing the other less savory rumors about her. Robert joins her and holds the boy loft before his bannerman, declaring him heir with booming pride. The people cheer, and for the first time in years, the royal marriage seems more than a facade. There is even an unspoken arrangement that both quietly accept. While Robert gave up whoring, he will not begrudge Cersei if she finds pleasure in other men. Robert only demands one thing. The children she bears in the king's bed will sit on the iron throne. In return, he swears to protect her other brood should they ever come. Cersei accepts this, not telling the king just who she finds comfort in. Yet, peace in marriage does not mean peace in the realm. The Greyjoy rebellion has left many more ruins in need of repair. And for this task, Robert places his new master of coin in charge, Peter Beish. He was brought here by Lord Aaron after proving to be a capable tax collector in the veil. To the small council, he appears closer to a wizard. When he rubs his hands together, money appears. It is no different in the Riverlands. When Robert sends him out to restore villages or fortify a stronghold, Littlefinger gets it done. Money materializes where it is needed, and masons, soldiers, and shipwrits are hired with coin the crown didn't know it had. Yet, the reality is a lot more insidious. As Littlefinger does not pull that money from nowhere, but through a carefully built house of cards. He gathers his supplies not from the great houses, but from lesser houses and merchants with coin to spare. These are all invested, and whatever is built pays it back in more, enriching Littlefinger's allies. The new harbor and sea guard is managed by one of Lord Mallister's vassels who had befriended Lord Beish a year before. The new customs official in Lannisport discreetly send back kickbacks to him. And the Ironborn who rebuilt Lord's port deal with rival bands of pirates for Lord Beish in their spare time. The one person who notices this is Stannis. He had previously been in charge of rebuilding the Riverlands and had experience with overseeing the reports and prices for construction. He slowly begins to notice some discrepancies. The biggest of these is the cost of goods. Things like salt, timber, and food are charged at rates higher than normal, even factoring in resource shortages. He also begins to interview some of the men Littlefinger had appointed and notice that many of them lack the experience to serve in their position. And worst of all, some lesser houses like Darien Goodbrook were granted far larger than they ought have been given. And when they look at the interest rates, his eyes nearly water. But something nags at him and tells him this is only the beginning. Slowly, he begins to curb Littlefinger's influence in court. During meetings, he questions some of the finances of the realm, suggests alternative candidates, and reassesses the loans the crown is providing, and then he goes on the attack. In a particularly heated exchange, Stannis makes a bold suggestion to ban brothel in the city. This gets a response, but not from Littlefinger. Instead, it is Robert who looks up in surprise. Are you mad? Why don't we just tell people to stop breathing while we're at it? Stannis narrows his eyes at the king, but as the meeting adjourns, he asks to remain. Your Grace, I think you are making a mistake rejecting my proposal, but not for the reasons you think. While yes, I do believe such establishments are a waste of time. I will not condemn those who choose to partake in them. >> So, what's your goal? Trying to get them removed. to turn the city against us. Lord Stannis, I hope you understand that without such places, it might make the small folk more restless and they might look at the crown more suspiciously. >> Then it means there is something to look at. Perhaps the crown should take a closer look at itself. Enough with these riddles, brother. You have a talent with them. If you are quarreling with someone, tell me. >> Lord Beish, he owns three of five brothel in this city, fattening his purse off of them. Yet he dresses so simply. I am simply wondering where is that money going. He's informed me that the projects the crown is handling are being built with the money from his establishments. Ah, how generous. And yet my sources tell me that such projects were made with loans from the riverlords. >> Are you saying that he is lying about his finances? >> Even if he is, he's doing such a good job. What does it matter if he takes a few gold dragons for himself? It isn't just a few gold dragons. At least I do not believe it is. I have a feeling it is much more. There is more here, and I would like to look into it. With your permission, of course. Very well. Go look into it. I will order the brothel to be banned for half a year, but take heed. If you do not provide me with something, they come back. Stannis nods and disappears down the hall to begin his research. Meanwhile, Robert makes this pronouncement, saying all establishments are shut down temporarily for fear of a pox outbreak. The people are upset, so Littlefinger suggests distracting them with a series of public games. With anger in the streets, they reluctantly agree, but the master of ships continues his search. It takes months to pour through all the ledgers and track down the web, but soon he sees it. The money trail is faint, but there reports of ships and wagons being moved between houses, all paid through debt. In half a year's time, Stannis presents this information to Robert Renley, John Aaron, and Cersei in private. He shows them the ledgers he had hastily copied, showing the lists of construction projects across the realm. There are hundreds of them. New ports, irrigation works, barns, and mills are being built. It gives the impression of a booming economy. But then Stannis shows them other reports, ones of the houses building it and how they had paid for it. Almost all had done so through hefty loans with obscene interest rates. Five dragons interest for every hundred to House went, eight dragons interest for every hundred to House Redwine, and 16 dragons interest for every hundred to House Goodbrook. To have accepted such loans would have been madness on normal occasions, but the long summer has made the lords complacent. They were led to believe the good times would continue and their gold would come at a steady rate. By my estimate, a sixth of all houses in the seven kingdoms owe money to Littlefinger. Though he says this is to the crown, the collectors are his. The ships that transport them are his, and the liaison to the banks are his. He controls where all this money goes. >> If that is the case, why not simply arrest him? Without him, we can slowly replace these allies of his with our own people. or take his head off. Surely this deception is enough for us to have of just cause in executing him. Blunt as always. But think about it. Littlefinger has probably thought of all that and has contingencies in place. And with so much debt under his control, he could crash the economy of every region. There would be a catastrophe, unrest, and rebellion. Chaos. I see what you're getting at. But what can we do? We can't very well leave them be. We don't. We must dismantle his web of allies slowly. Strip away his control and prepare to blunt the damage of this crisis. Cut spending where we can and remove his officials. Look closer into his businesses. We must set aside money to bail out houses that are in debt. Slowly, a plan begins to develop to combat this threat. The ban on brothel is lifted. Though to ensure proper safety, new regulations are put into place with Renley Baratheon placed in charge while Sir Stafford Lannister oversees this. Soon enough, more efforts are made to begin dismantling Littlefinger's network of allies. While they cannot go after him directly, they can go after his supporters and cronies. Thankfully, some of them are not nearly as discreet as Lord Beish, giving Renley and Stannis reason to arrest them. One wine trader who also helps manage a port in Oldtown is stripped of his contracts after learning that he's been selling wine at double the cost. A manager of a grainery is arrested after they inspect his facilities and see he's mixing the grain with husks. and Stannis begins meeting with lords to guarantee royal fleet protection at subsidized rates, reducing their dependence on privateeers and merchants loyal to Littlefinger. But as they remove one person, another must take their place. Here, the Baratheians must reluctantly turn to Lord Tywin. The man is well connected in both the Seven Kingdoms and the Free Cities. From there, he uses them to find more trustworthy men or to dig up dirt on the foreign merchants Littlefinger employs. As that happens, Lord Aaron and Stannis send gold to houses most at risk, helping them stabilize their finances and keeping a close watch over them to ensure they put money in the right places. It takes years, and but bit by bit, they managed to regain control of the treasury. So, the little is losing his claws. I'll drink to that. It will not end so easily. He'll fight to keep what is. We've also managed to refinance several riverlords who owed him with crown gold. Their debts now belong to us, not him. And others have gained enough stability that they are not at great risk of defaulting. Should the worst happen, we can blunt most of the damage. My lord, a wounded beast is often the most dangerous. Move too quickly, and you risk unsettling faith in the crown's purse. Panic spreads swiftly in such matters. Chaos breeds opportunists. Robert's jaw tightens. He hates the way the spider speaks, as though every word is some dark prophecy. Later that week, the whispers begin. In the halls of the Red Keep, in the wine sinks of Flebottom, among the Reachman envoys, the talk is the same. Prince Leor is not fit for the throne. The boy is slowly growing up. Yet, while healthy, he is not strong, not like his father, at least. He is too frail, too unlike his father. A boy who can string a bow, but the sword and hammer feel awkward in his hands. And worse still, the old rumors slither back to life, that he is not truly of Robert's brood. There have always been stories of his true parentage, that much is true for any prince. Yet, these are not simple tavern talk. Many continue to whisper about it for months, speculating about the father. Yet, this breeds even worse rumors. The queen is too close to her brother, Jaime, too often seen in her chambers. They suggest that Lighor is not even a Baratheon, but a Lannister, born from the brood of Cersei and Jaime<unk>s unnatural activity. Varys smiles to himself as he ensures these rumors spread across the right places. It isn't long before it reaches court, where one unfortunate lord makes a mistake of bringing it up. Forgive me, your grace, but for the future of the realm, if Prince Lenor cannot carry the hammer of House Baratheon, perhaps the succession should be reconsidered. Stannis or Renley perhaps a strong heir. Lenor is my son, my blood. He will sit the Iron Throne after me. And gods help the fool who says otherwise. If you doubt House Baratheon's strength, then say that with steel in your hands, my lord. The hall falls into stunned silence. Rowan lowers his gaze, pale-faced. But when the lords are dismissed in the council chambers empties, Robert lingers in thought. That night in his chambers, he cannot shake the image of Lighor in the yard, thin arms quivering as he tried to lift a blunted sword, cheeks flushed with shame. He knows that his son is not a great warrior and might never be one. Yet still, that does not mean he will not defend him. When Cersei enters, Robert does not rise to greet her. He simply stares into the fire. >> You've heard the rumors. >> I've heard them. They will not die no matter what I say. >> I've been careful always. I would not give you a bastard. >> Then tell me, who is it you've lain with? >> Cersei blinks, caught off guard. I will not harm them. Seven hell, Cersei. I have two daughters from other women. I won't stand in judgment. But this talk of incest, it poisons everything. Give me a name and I shall shield you and them. It will kill the worst of the roomies. And if he looks nothing like me, the better. For a moment, she hesitates, lips parted, the lie trembling on her tongue. She could name some nameless cordier, a cell sword, a singer, anything. But Robert's eyes bore into her, and she could not bring herself to deny it. >> This is true, Jamie. >> The word hangs in the air like smoke. Robert goes rigid, his face draining of color. For once, he has no roar, no curse, no hammer blow of rage, only silence. His great hands curl into fists at his sides, trembling with the weight of what he has heard. >> Seven hell, Cersei? Why? Of all the people you could have taken to your bed, why him? >> You don't understand our connection. It's something deeper beyond siblings. >> Oh, yes. I'm sure it goes quite deep. Damn it all. With this, Littlefinger can fling whatever lies he wants and they'll eat it up if this gets out. >> I won't get out. And you promise that? >> This is different, Cersei. Surely you must be able to see that. I would forgive any random knight of Colche. But your brother, I can't know about this. I shouldn't. But you are right on one thing. This cannot get out. But make no mistake, I won't take any blonde bastards from you. The fire crackles between them, and Robert stares at his queen, speechless, as the world shifts beneath his feet. The Red Keep has never been silent, not truly. Servants whisper in corners. Guards mutter on their posts, and rumors flow like wine through its halls. What passes between king and queen one night is carried on unseen wings by morning. But whispers are poisonous in the red keep as walls. Though they think themselves in private, their story has been heard. Cersei Lannister warms her brother's bed. That Lighor, the sickly prince, is no son of Robert at all but Jaime's Welp. No proof, no witnesses. But in King's Landing, proof is the least important thing. Many people have already heard of it. And rumors coming from the capital are practically confirmation. The Baratheonss and Lannisters close ranks at once. Robert roars the rumor down in court, calling them treason. Cersei sits high and proud beside him, daring anyone to speak the words aloud. Stannis has Melisandre search for anyone who suggests this, and Renley tries to distract people with other rumors. Tywin warns that anyone who speaks such slander will lose their tongue. Leanor feels most of it. The boy walks the yard with his bow slung across his shoulder, but every look he receives from guards and servants burns. He is his father's heir, yet nothing like Robert. No broad chest, no booming laugh, no great hammer in his hand. Children of the court whisper behind his back. John Aaron tries to cheer him up with words of duty. Robert cares for him and protects him. That is all he needs to know. Renley claps him on the shoulder and tells him bloodlines don't win wars. Men do. Even Cersei attempts to reassure him, coming to his chambers and combing his long hair, telling him that he is a prince who will outshine the Targaryenss. But he keeps his head low. In the end, it is Robert who tries hardest, but even his booming encouragement rings hollow. Every time the boy misses a mark or falters of the blade, Robert sees the rumors in the eyes of others. And as the crown waivers, Varys moves in the boughels of the Red Keep, ravens take wing with letters bearing no seal. Couriers slip through the alleys with sacks of gold. Far across the narrow sea, the captains of the Golden Company read the spider's command. The time has come. The days of Robert enjoying the unanimous support of the people are gone. With his dynasty looking weaker by the day, and without a strong heir, some begin to whisper, "It is their chance." And the most prominent of those are the Blackfires. Ships blacken the horizon as the cell swords land upon the Dornish coast. Not as raiders, but as guests. Prince Doran, silent for years, opens his gates. He had been among the first Varys contacted and they offer their swords to the Targaryen pretenders, happy to believe Aegon is the son of Rhaegar, even when they know the truth. The storm spreads. Noble houses already burdened with a debt to Littlefinger. Rise when Beish himself bends the knee under Varys's pressure. He promises Lord Beish a chance to gain more influence under Aegon V 6th if he offers what's left of his faction over to them. And Littlefinger is all too eager to climb. Pockets of rebellion flare in the Riverlands, the Reach, even the Stormlands. Each house claims a reason. Some out of hatred for Cersei, others out of doubt in Leanar. Others for debts unpaid. They are not a single army, but a swarm of gnats, biting and harassing the crown. This only divides the realm as each lord works to put down the rebellion in their lands. Robert will not sit idle. He calls the banners and rides south to meet the invaders. Renley at his side with the levies of the stormlands in reach. The king fights not only to protect his crown, but to silence the doubts gnawing at him. Getting away from the capital is his escape. And at least here he understands war. You think this war is for you, brother. But it is not. It is for Lenor. Every battle you fight, every rebel you crush, you do it to prove that his throne still stands. The boy's claim lives or dies on your hammer. I know. And I won't gladly defend him to my last. It's just that I won't be here forever. What if he never become strong enough to pick up the hammer? So what? The boy is 13. He'll have time to grow into things. And isn't this why we were kned? That whole business of defending those who can't defend themselves. Defend the weak. You never paid attention to those nightly vows. I did. But Lenor, he's not weak. And give him time. He'll rise to the occasion. In the meantime, let's see if you can still swing your hammer. You know, I did have a dream about something like this. When I was sleeping under the whalewood, I got a glimpse of the children. I had a warrior maiden carrying my hammer, a pair of beautiful twins, and a boy who defended Harrenhal from the Targaryenss. Sounds like quite the tale for the taverns. The clash comes on the plains of south of the Dornish marches. The Golden Company fights with brutal discipline. And with the Dornish men, their army proves dangerous. Scattering isolated hosts. They push forward but scatter at the sight of larger armies. That is until Robert leads the charge himself. Hammer rising and falling in a storm of blood. He smashes their center, scatters their banners while they try to disappear into the winds yet again. Robert keeps his eyes straight and leads his cavalry forward through the arrows storms and flying columns of Dornish and the Golden Company. The only thing that stops him is the elephants, which send the Stormlanders into a panic, breaking the attack for now. The momentum of Robert's charge is broken, and they must instead grind down the Dornish men. Thankfully, the presence of Robert provides a stabilizing effect. Many reach Lors and Stormlanders rally to their side, and they begin trying to hem in the Dornish army, knowing they cannot keep running forever. Eventually, they catch ward of a retreating column of the Golden Company, and Robert catches a glimpse of Silver. He barrels right toward him, knocking aside the guards. In desperation, the Golden Company unleashes its elephants upon them. Dozens of cavalry men are thrown aside, but Robert has a secret weapon, Thoros of Mir. The mad priest gallops forward, sweeping a flame sword back and forth. The sight opens a gap in the elephant's lines, and Robert slips through. The boy fights bravely, blade gleaming. But Robert is a giant in his wrath. With a single crushing blow, he caves in his skull. The field is one. Yet, as he wipes his hammer clean, Robert sees the truth. The dead youth's eyes are pale, his features too sharp, his bearing wrong, a decoy, a shadow of the real prize. And soon, word reaches him. The true Aegon is landed in the reach, welcomed by a thousand sworn swords and lords eager for change. The reach burns, villages smolder along the mander, and banners of the golden company rise where Tyrell colors once flew. Lords who swore filty to mace Tyrell now bend the knee to a boy they call Aegon, son of Rhaegar, rightful heir of the dragon. And his arrival brings more danger as Kraken sails appear off the sunset sea. The Ironborn have answered Aegon's call, promised the right to reeve and keep whatever lands they seize. They descend upon the shores of the Reach. Salt and smoke follow them inland, forcing the coastal lords to defend their keeps instead of answering Robert's banners. With every raid, Aegon's host swells. Thousands flock to him, and at their head rides John Conington, Red Griffin, upon his cloak, leading the march towards King's Landing. Inside the capital, tension coils like a drawn bowring. Stannis and John Aaron arrive with what men they can muster. But even with the fresh spears, the defenders are outnumbered. Upon the walls, they have a patchwork of narrow sea lords and a few veilmen whom Jon trusts. The rest are still locked up in a siege at Gaultown, fighting off mountain clansmen and a handful of rebel lords whom Littlefinger has courted. We cannot hold if they come in full strength. We must think of the succession, not the walls. You must take the prince and flee. Go to your father. The claim must survive. Even if King's Landing does not >> flee. Abandon the city to pretend. I am the queen. You were the first mother. You would have your son die here in the streets with his throne. >> Then fight. Fight to the last man to keep my boy alive. >> I will fight to my last breath to keep him safe. But I do not like our odds. Where the fighting starts, he will be a loaf of bread in a pile of rats. But beyond. So long as he lives, so does our cause. Trust me on this. Her lips tighten. But at last, she nods. That night, with 200 knights and retainers, she and Leanar slipped from the city by moonlight, riding hard into the hills northeast of the Blackwater. For days, they move quietly, aiming to link with Tywin's approaching reinforcements from the Westerlands. They cross the God's Eye, but word leaks. Spies move swifter than ravens. Word reaches Aegon, and soon a detachment of riders charges after them. They find Lenor's band in a narrow valley where Aegon's force numbering 700 men consisting of Golden Company knights, Ironborn Raiders, Reachmen, and more comes rushing forward. Lenor's knights ride to meet them, but are cut down. Their heavy armor useless against the enemy swift horsemen. Soon, only Lenor remains with his archers and a few dozen men at arms. As their knights retreat to make their last stand, the party finds themselves desperately climbing the hills for safety. The boy's face is pale, but his voice rings sharp. to the hills. >> From the rocky slopes, his men desperately make their escape. Seeing the rocky slopes spread out between high outcroppings, an idea forms, begins directing his archers forwards and calls for his bow. But as a squire hurries to obey, a hand grabs him. >> Leo, you cannot risk yourself in this fight. You are the one person who cannot die. >> Let me go, mother. I will not die. You know me. I only like to fight from a distance. Cersei prepares to shake her head, but his tone is unusually firm. There is a strength in his voice that she's never heard before. Slowly, she lets go. Soon, his archers rain shafts upon the advancing mercenaries. The heavy men at arms who cut down his knights now find themselves floundering as their armor weighs them down. The valley fills with the screams of wounded horses. The clash of men thrown from saddles. The Golden Company, weighed with steel, struggles to climb the steep ridges. Lenor orders his lighter armed men to dark from cover, slashing its stragglers before vanishing back into the rocks, covered by arrows and crossbows of Lenor's men. For hours they hold, arrows throwing into the gilding breastplates. The mercenaries forced back again and again. Laner himself loses shaft after shaft until his fingers are raw and bleeding. Against all odds, the boy who could not heft a Warhammer now commands a battlefield. But then the earth trembles. Aegon arrives at the head of fresh troops. A stride a towering war elephant brought from Asus. The beast trumpets scattering men like leaves. Lenor's thin line buckles. His soldiers waver, some fleeing down the slopes. Those who try to fight back are taken down by arrows fired from the top the elephant. >> Stand your ground. >> But fear is stronger than words. His men scatter and the elephant advances towards him and around him. Infantry of the Golden Company and Ironborn rally to his side. Leanar takes aim with his bow, but fumbles. Arrows drop from his hand and tumble to the ground. He curses and bends to pick one up just as shafts of rain fall from above. He takes aim and fires at Aegon, but his guards are ready. They raise their shields and protect the king. Cursing, Lenor grabs another one just as a fresh volley misses him. He fires twice more, but each time his arrows are blocked. Then he hears the elephants coming closer. its trunk thundering as he can see the whites of its small eyes. One swing from his trunk might be enough to shatter every bone in Laner's body. But as he prepares to strike, a rock strikes its ear and causes the elephant to turn. Cersei stands on a nearby hill, throwing another rock and waving a crimson shaw around. >> Get away from him. Come get me." >> The drive urges the elephant to keep moving, but the direction is all Lar needs. He draws another arrow. Not at the beast, not at Aegon, but at the driver perched upon its neck. The shaft flies true. The man tumbles lifeless from his seat. Lenor leaps aside just as the beast's foot comes crashing down. The elephant bellows, maddened by grief, and rears. In its frenzy, it tramples friend and foe alike, crashing through the Golden Company's lines. Lannar seizes the moment. >> Now loose. >> A storm of arrows pierces the chaos. The beast staggers and rumbles away, swaying from a dozen arrow wounds. It knocks men off and leaves Lenar with a clear shot at last. Seizing his last arrow, he drops to a crouch and fires. Amid the dust and screams, Aegon scrambles to rise, only for Lenar's final arrow to take him clean through the throat. The boy falls, clutching at the shaft. His men drag him away, but it is too late. The pretender gasps his last breath upon foreign soil. A stunned silence hangs over the valley. Then Lenar lowers his body, chest heaving. His men stare at him, disbelieving. Their frail prince has slain a dragon's heir. A day later, Tywin Lannister arrives and sees the chaos in the valley. For a moment, his men are shocked and worried that they have arrived too late. Yet, when they reach the top of the ridge, they see Lenar seated on a rock, his bow on his lap, but also something else, a blade he had recovered from the chaos. Blackfire. The sight of his grandson with the conqueror's blade sears into the old man's mind and he seizes on it. When his army marches on King's Landing, Lanar is at the forefront. Blackfire raised high in the air. The sight of it sends morale spiraling amongst the Golden Company and gives Stannis a chance to rally. They sort out with Jaime leading the charge. He slays Jon Conington and Stannis scatters the army. This defeat brings an end to the rebellion all across the Seven Kingdoms. Word spreads of the Blackfire's defeat, and many make peace or quietly slink back to their seats. When Robert and his men return to the capital, they find Lenar seated at top the Iron Throne, Blackfire across his lap while his bow is slung across his back. >> If anyone still doubts my parentage or my ability to rule, they are free to come forward and say it to my face. >> Lord Matus Rowan is the first to drop to his knees, followed by countless more. Even Stannis and Renley, the only ones left standing, are Robert, who lets out a roaring laugh as he watches his son with tears in his eyes, and Cersei, who looks prouder than ever. That's our theory. Westeros is a land filled with exciting stories and possibilities, and we love exploring them. 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