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Chapter 64 - The Fat & The Cunning
🕑 Added 2025-12-04 19:31:14 +0000 UTCStormlands
Asgard
290 AC
A year had passed following his conquest of the Iron Islands by slaying the kraken. The noblemen had been sent to the Wall, and the women were sequestered away in the keeps, with ample books, sewing, and other activities to do.
Robert wasn’t a monster after all, and it would keep the women from acting up.
The change in the Iron Islands had the Faith and the smallfolk rising in fury, since a magical tree was remaking the islands.
That was a shock to everyone once it got out. There were protests, demanding that Robert burn the tree, but after he disagreed by smacking the ringleader into unconsciousness, the crowds dispersed.
Now, the High Septon, the fat and corrupt one, was preaching about how Robert had strayed from the light of the Seven and being an overall pain in the ass.
It was time for him to do something about that fatso.
“Tyrion, find me some master builders for a secret plan. Davos, I want to know if the High Septon ever leaves his seat, and if not, how to make him leave.”
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“A wall that moves, my lord?” The master builder Erol scratched his chin, looking at the drawings handed to him. They weren’t very well drawn, but he understood the idea behind it.
“Yes, yes, an entire wall that could be pushed aside to expose the room to the outside.”
“It could be done, but we will need time.”
“Use triangular metal frames, and put wheels like these on the base of the wall.”
“Oh, this definitely makes our work easier. Where do you want it built?”
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Davos, who had made connections while he was a smuggler, brought word that the High Septon rarely left the Great Sept of Baelor, too busy growing his reserves of fat.
But one thing that could make his fat ass gold.
Something Robert had more than anyone else in Westeros.
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While this personal little project was moving along, Robert turned his attention to something a bit bigger.
The bridge he was building in the Riverlands. The Twins was built on a shallow part of the river, but Harroway did not enjoy the same advantage.
Master builders he had brought were digging ditches and building levees before they could start building the bridge.
The river was already surveyed, and barges were ready to drive oak piles into the riverbed to create cofferdams so the work to lay the foundations of the bridge could begin. The costs were estimated to be thirty thousand gold dragons, and it would take six to seven years.
Robert, however, wasn’t willing to wait that long.
He wanted the bridge done in a year, and he was willing to pay the cost. Obelisk would even be at the site, spalling rocks and calcining lime to expedite the process. He also knew the timeline he requested would definitely result in accidents and paid even more gold for safety.
One hundred and twenty thousand gold dragons in total was nothing to him.
Ah, the convenience of being rich.
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The Twins
Walder Frey sat on his seat with a sour face.
That damn Baratheon was serious about building a bridge at Harroway’s Town, and there was nothing he could do about it. Robert had even sent a dragon to work on the bridge, crushing stone and burning lime.
Hoster was useless, unable to even control his bannerman after his younger daughter’s dishonor and following her escape from the Silent Sisters. The only reason people even respected House Tully was because of Blackfish and Catelyn Tully’s marriage to Brandon Stark, tying the Riverlands to the Crown, even if indirectly.
Speaking of the Crown, they too weren’t willing to do anything. Walder had sent envoys to request they force Rhydan Roote to abandon the idea, offering free passage from the Twins for decades, but they were scared of Robert.
In all honesty, Walder knew it would not work but had tried anyway.
Now, there was only one thing left to do.
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King’s Landing
The High Septon huffed as he got into the carriage. That damn merchant wanted him to bless his pregnant wife in person, for a large donation, of course, and after wrangling for an appropriate amount, he headed down Visenya’s Hill.
The ride itself was the same as all the ones he had before, bumpy, but as the carriage approached the manse, he could hear shouting and screaming.
“What is happening?”
“The smallfolk, Your Holiness, they are picking something from the ground.” The coachman shouted, and the carriage came to a stop.
The High Septon looked out the window to see what the commotion was, his girth shaking the carriage, and saw the carriage surrounded by smallfolk.
Two of his acolytes approached, pushing through the crowd.
“Your Holiness, we must get you out of here until the crowd disperses.” One called out, and the High Septon hissed.
“Quite.” He grunted, displeased with the delay. More acolytes came, creating a shield around the High Septon to lead him away.
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They had taken refuge in the manse of a merchant, who was out on the docks, and waited while the High Septon grumbled. Those pests had delayed his work, and now he had to sit here with nothing to do. They didn’t even bring food, and he was starving.
“Wine, Your Holiness?” An acolyte, one whose name he could not remember, offered, holding out a goblet with a rich aroma.
“Ah, good, good, give it here.” He took the goblet, sipping the wine while he sat on the bed.
Curious, why would this merchant have a bed in the solar? And why was the room so bare? He wondered while drinking his wine.
“Why have you not removed your hoods?” The High Septon asked his acolytes, slurring like a drunk.
“Wha?” He whispered with drowsy eyes and dropped the nearly empty wine goblet, falling on the bed.
“Dumbass.” One of the acolytes, a tall and well-built man, removed his hood, revealing the face of Robert Baratheon. “Quick, get the girls here.” He ordered another acolyte, Davos, who rushed out to find the whores they had brought here secretly.
This High Septon was corrupt but did not indulge in whores, something Robert was about to fix.
Sandor was watching the door for any sign of the real acolytes that were escorting the High Septon, but they were nowhere to be seen.
Davos came rushing in, with two girls in provocative small clothes following him. “Alright, get in the bed now, and be ready to run.
The girls nodded, tearing his robes off and snuggling up to the High Septon in bed, while Robert called Sandor to help him.
Using the handles built into the wall, they pushed the wall to the side, allowing the sunlight to creep in with each step.
“Gods, it is the High Septon on a bed with whores!” A child, or rather, a dwarf disguised as a child, screamed , and the smallfolk stopped.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Three Days Ago
Chataya’s Brothel
“Well, well, I never expected to see you here, my lord. Why the secrecy?” Chataya was surprised to see Robert visit her establishment.
If she could hook him, his endless purse could be opened for her girls.
“I am not here to indulge. I just need two girls to help me with something.” Robert asked, grinning. The girls were fine, nothing like that redhead from Morocco, but he was in the city for another kind of thrill.
Such a pity. “What would that be?”
Still, this wasn’t a total loss, as Robert pulled out a fat sack of coin, handing it to Chataya.
“Ask no questions. Just know that it is dangerous, but I’ll offer to pay the debt of the girls.”
Looking inside the sack, gold dragons to the brim greeted her. “Hmm, Alisa, Melaya, come here.”
“This man has agreed to pay your debts should you help him with his scheme. It is dangerous, though.” She warned, and the girls’ eyes widened in surprise.
These two were the ones with the highest debts and the ones that would bring her the most coin.
Chataya had a very profitable day.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hours Ago
Flea Bottom
“Hear ye, hear ye. A wealthy merchant by the name of Mike Hawk has had a healthy son, and he celebrates it by dispersing silver stags to the smallfolk in the streets of Visenya’s Hill. Hear ye, hear ye….” The criers screamed all over Flea Bottom.
Tyrion had spent a couple of silver stags to hire the loudest ones and watched from a corner as the destitute smallfolk of Flea Bottom created crowds, marching to Visenya’s Hill to take their share.
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Looking at the confused mass, who were waiting for the coin, Tyrion waved the flag, giving the men at the rooftops the signal.
They began to throw bags filled with silver coins all over the crowd. The bags were not tied, and as they sailed through the air, the coins rained on the smallfolk, causing a stampede.
Just in time, the High Septon’s carriage came, with his guards surrounding him, but they suddenly found the convoy stuck between the smallfolk with no chance of moving.
Robert’s men struck from the crowd, pulling down the riders and knocking the guards out.
“For Mike Hawk!” Cries rose from the mass, signaling for Lord Robert to move and carry out his part of the task.
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Dressed in septon robes, Robert, Davos, Sandor, and several other men pushed the crowd aside, making sure to keep their heads down, and quietly escorted the fat High Septon away.
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The smallfolk of Flea Bottom, destitute and abandoned, were angry to see the High Septon in a bed with whores while their stomachs went empty.
“Death to the High Septon! Death to the High Septon!” Men that definitely didn’t belong in the crowd screamed, stirring up the crowd into attacking the High Septon.
And it worked.
One man found a cudgel on the ground, so did another, and another, too vexed to think why there were so many of them lying around, charged at the High Septon.
The crowd moved as a whole, a wave threatening to drown everyone in their way.
The whores bolted, running away in their small clothes, though they did not escape unscathed when several rocks found their marks.
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Three Days Later
The Red Keep
“Lord Varys, I hope you have an idea what happened out there?”
“I do, Your Grace. It was You-Know-Who’s work. He kidnapped the High Septon before the man was even aware of it, put him to bed with whores, and showed the whole thing to the smallfolk. The rest is as you know. The crowd tore the High Septon apart before it spilled into the Baelor’s Sept.” Varys explained. They all knew the one responsible for this affair, but uttering the name in King Rhaegar’s presence earned his ire these days and caused visible pain to the man.
The sept was barely saved from a fire, but the crowd had not stopped, murdering several septons and stealing from the Great Sept before the Gold Cloaks and men-at-arms dispelled the smallfolk.
“Are you certain it was him?” Tywin knew it was inevitable for Robert to do something against the High Septon, but this was unexpected and cunning.
“Indeed. He found the girls from Chataya’s Brothel; the owner has admitted as such.” Chataya had revealed Robert’s visit to her brothel after Varys looked around for where the girls might have come from.
“And this merchant, Mike Hawk?” It was an unusual name, and Wyman wasn’t familiar with it.
“Does not exist, Lord Wyman, another ploy of his.”
Rhaegar slammed his fist on the table, seething. “He comes into my city, hatches a plot to kill the High Septon, puts him in bed with two whores, builds a contraption to move the entire wall of a manse, and lays him bare before the smallfolk.”
The Small Council listened in silence, not daring to utter a word to soothe the king’s ire, lest they risk earning it.
“And you, once again, failed to do your job, Lord Varys.” Varys bowed his head as he was scolded like a child.
“Your Grace, he seems to have an uncanny ability to root out my birds. I have no excuse to give.”
After Robert had sent the first one back with a stern warning, the birds he sent to Asgard kept disappearing.
It was frustrating.
Aegon groaned. “God damn him.”
“What?” Rhaegar asked, not in the mood for any more ill tidings.
“Mike Hawk, my cock.” Aegon had just realized Robert’s final—hopefully—trick.
Tywin was exasperated and muttered “Manchild” under his breath.
“What do we do about this? Tell the people that it was him?” Daeron wanted to do something other than just sit here to discuss Robert.
Anything.
“The High Septon was preaching against him; if we go and blame You Know Who, the people will only believe we are trying to cover up for the High Septon.” The Dowager Queen advised.
Had the High Septon merely been assassinated, it would be easy to use it to instigate the Faith against Robert.
But with the smallfolk being the witness and the executioners? There was nothing the Crown could do except make themselves look like fools.
“So he gets away with another scheme?”
“Aye.”
Daeron left the room, swearing.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Asgard
Robert was roaring with laughter, slamming his open hand on the desk, a feeling shared by Davos, Sandor, and Tyrion.
“How long do you think it will take them to realize the pun in the merchant’s name?” Tyrion asked between laughing.
Even before they left, the Gold Cloaks were searching everywhere for Mike Hawk, with criers promising rewards for his arrest.
Robert was running out of breath and managed to answer after calming down. “I don’t know, but hopefully long enough.”
“I must admit, I was a bit reserved about coming, but I am glad I did.” Tyrion chuckled.
“My lord, what of us?” Their guests, the girls Lord Robert had picked from the brothel, were brought to Asgard so they would not face any reprisal.
Robert scratched his head, having completely forgotten about them. “Oh yeah, sorry. Tyrion, have someone take these girls to the chocolate factory.”
“You two will work there until you get on your feet and then find other work if you want. You will be provided one home, and you’ll have to share it until more can be built.” Asgard, interestingly enough, did not have a brothel, not because it was banned, but because the females had no reason to take to that line of work.
The girls were not expecting to be treated this well and teared up while hugging Robert. “Thank you, my lord, thank you. None has treated us like this before.”
“There, there. It will be fine.” He patted the girls on the back, letting them cry, even though he didn’t deal well with all this mushy stuff.
Comments
Fortunis
Dude that name is hilarious 😂. Wait till the small folk figure out what the gold cloaks were yelling for the entire time. That shit will be legendary 🙌 😆 🤣. Also well played. Can't wait for more.
Rachel N
Omg I didn't even realise the pun in Mike Hawk until Aegon said it! 🤣🤣🤣🤣 pfft Tywin calling Robert a manchild. He ain't wrong though! ❤️❤️❤️
