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Chapter 2 - Egg Thief (R)
🕑 Added 2025-09-05 18:47:55 +0000 UTCPentos
Traveling to Pentos proved to be less challenging than expected. All he had to do was join a merchant caravan heading to the city as a guard, and since Braavos was more secure than the remaining Free Cities, there practically was no trouble.
Except for the constant blackouts where Robert took over.
His note had worked, at least once the original owner of the body thought to check the coin pouch. Of course Robert didn’t believe it at first, but after repeatedly waking up with missing memories, he had given it a shot, and Matt responded.
The situation was too weird for either of them.
Finding Illyrio’s manor wasn’t particularly difficult either, since he was a magister, but it only made getting inside the manor itself harder. There were dozens of guards, and Matt knew a rushed plan would get him killed.
He spent two weeks observing the manor, writing down the patrol routes and the switch schedules of the guards. Eventually, Matt prepared a plan to sneak in, find the eggs—and also Blackfyre if it was there—and get out.
—
It was the noon of the day Matt would execute his plan at night, so he went to bed early to be ready.
As has been the case ever since he found himself in this body, sleep came easily.
However, what came after that felt like a fever dream.
Matt found himself in a dark place with no end in sight. He looked around to get his bearings, but a large and strong hand wrapped around his neck.
Robert Baratheon, the original owner of this body, stood before him, teeth gritted, nostrils wide, and eyes livid with fury.
“Who are you?! A sorcerer? Do you think you can take my body?!”
Since this was a dream, or rather, since they were inside the mindscape, Matt wasn’t exactly choking.
“Believe me, I am no sorcerer, and finding myself sharing a body with someone wasn’t my idea.” Confused at how Matt answered with his hand choking him, Robert began to calm down.
“Then how?”
Matt shrugged. “I died and found myself here.”
“You expect me to believe this?” Robert spat, considering violence once more.
“Perhaps I can convince you?” The young man before him offered,
If it would shed light on what in the seven hells was happening, Robert would listen, but for now, “How?”
Matt got up, rubbing his neck even though he felt no pain. “I need to know, what exactly are you doing in Braavos? As far as I know, you never stepped foot out of Westeros in all your life.”
“How would you know that?” He had never seen this man before.
“This is going to take some time to explain, so bear with me.”
—
“We are books in your world?” Robert was lost for words. On one hand, it defied belief; on the other hand, the man knew things he should not have, nor should anyone else.
“And a TV show.”Matt added, which confused Robert, and he explained it within a context the taller man would understand. “Think of it like a mummer's play.”
“Prove it.” For all he knew, this Matt could be a sorcerer of great strength, able to see the future or the past.
Matt knew something that would get Robert’s attention. “I know how to hatch dragons, and I know where to find eggs.”
Robert grasped the man’s shoulders, leaning down to his face. “Where?”
“Illyrio Mopatis, he is a magister and also linked to Varys; I’m not sure how. He has three dragon eggs somewhere in his manor. If I, we,” Matt corrected himself, “can find and steal them, the dragons could be brought to this world under our command.”
“Dragons?” Robert began to smile, imagining himself atop the mighty magical beasts, raining fire on the Targaryens.
“Yes. Now, what exactly brought you to Braavos?” He needed to know what the hell had changed for events to differ so wildly.
Robert sighed, sitting down to tell his tale.
During the Tourney of Harrenhal, Rhaegar had apparently fallen in love with Lyanna Stark, Robert’s betrothed, and opened the matter to his father, who agreed to it to finally fulfill the Pact of Ice and Fire.
King Aerys, Robert’s father, Steffon, and Rickard Stark had negotiated to break the betrothal between Robert and Lyanna. In return, Robert would wed Princess Shaena Targaryen.
As expected, Robert had refused violently and attacked Prince Rhaegar and was barely stopped by the Kingsguard.
To save his life from Aerys, who, while not as mad as his canon counterpart, was still plenty crazy, Steffon had negotiated a deal to have Robert exiled to Essos for five years, while the betrothal with Princess Shaena was retracted.
“I see. You said Princess Shaena would have been betrothed to you; does that mean there were other Targaryens alive?” He remembered Aerys and Rhaella having several children die, which further contributed to Aerys’ insanity.
“Aye, Rhaegar, Shaena, Daeron, Aegon, Jaehaerys, and Viserys. Why?” How could he know all that and not the living members of House Targaryen?
“In the books, everyone between Rhaegar and Viserys was stillborn or died in the crib.”
Even if that was an excuse, it was one that he liked the idea of. “Huh. Sounds great.”
Matt rolled his eyes. No matter the universe, Robert seemed to hate Targaryens. “Here is my offer. I am reasonably more intelligent and creative than you and have access to information neither you nor anyone else does. You, on the other hand, are a natural-born warrior and have strong instincts. I suggest we work together.”
Robert glared at the man for calling him a fool, even if it was indirectly, but began to consider it. The offer, if it was genuine, was too good to refuse.
“Imagine this: us riding dragons, the beasts that made House Targaryen the rulers of Westeros, while they still have no idea how to hatch eggs. You want revenge? Tell me something sweeter than this.”
“Killing Rhaegar.” Robert immediately retorted, still imagining himself on dragonback.
“Why kill them when you can humiliate their entire house forever?” Not that Matt particularly cared if the Targaryens lived or died, but he’d rather not commit wanton slaughter.
“You make a convincing case. But how do we work together?” If it was through the notes, then it would make this cooperation difficult.
“For now, I have a plan to sneak into the manor. I wrote everything down. No matter which one of us wakes up, if we are careful, we should be able to find the eggs. Deal?” Hopefully, Robert wouldn’t screw up the plan and get them both killed, well, again, in Matt’s case.
“So be it.” Robert shook the hand but couldn’t pull his own back, as their hands were stuck. “What in the?!”
A force pulled them towards each other, and no matter how much they resisted and screamed, it was futile.
There was a bright light where their hands met, and everything went white.
—
Robert’s eyes snapped open, and he grinned.
—
Covered by a dark robe, Robert hid while waiting for the guards up on the wall to pass through. The night was pitch black, and he could only rely on his hearing. As the footsteps faded, he threw the hook-rope, securing it at the top before beginning his climb.
Being as strong as he was had its perks. He checked both sides once at the top and gathered the hook-rope for later use. The guards had moved to the end of the battlement, near the stairs, and didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
He checked the bottom of the wall, though it was almost impossible to see anything, and descended using the hook-rope.
Standing between bushes, he searched for any sign of danger before moving inside. It was night, and no one except the guards was around, and Illyrio was asleep.
Unless he had some weird night fetishes.
He jammed the piece of thin steel plate he had brought along to the bottom of the window and moved it around. It took too long to be comfortable, but eventually he pried the window open and slipped inside, silently pulling it down to leave no evidence.
The most likely place he could find the eggs would be Illyrio’s room, the most secure place in the whole manor.
But getting there wouldn’t be easy. There was a guard at the bottom of the stairs, looking right into the hall he had just entered. The solution was simple: draw the guard’s attention, and kill him.
Robert dropped the small metal plate he had and waited on the side of the door. The guard came in, muttering something in the Valyrian dialect of Pentos, before seeing Robert.
Faster than the man could scream or attack, he drove the knife gifted to him by Jon Arryn into the man’s throat, piercing the neck through.
Holding the falling man and ignoring his choking, Robert twisted the knife, and the shaking ceased. Robert dragged the man away and hid him somewhere out of sight.
One side roiled up at the feeling of warm, sticky blood on the corpse, while the other did not care.
Climbing up the stairs with as much stealth and silence as his large frame granted him, Robert stood in a hallway.
And at the end of it, there was a larger than usual door with two guards at the front. Either it contained something important, or it was Illyrio’s bedroom, and either way, it required investigating.
Using the same tactic as before, Robert drew one of the guards away and stabbed him through the stomach while pushing his palm over the man’s mouth to silence him while slowly lowering the dying body to the ground. The other guard came to look for his friend and met the same fate.
Careful and painfully slow, Robert opened the door and found a queen-sized bed with two people sleeping.
One was Illyrio, and the other, his wife, and even through the darkness, he could see her Valyrian features, at least the hair.
There was a significant possibility of the woman being a Blackfyre, and she was pregnant to boot. Robert considered killing her and Illyrio then and there, but killing a defenseless woman, especially one carrying a child, wasn’t something he saw his new self capable of doing.
It would be more fun to fight the Young Griff man-to-man anyway.
Crouching, Robert searched the space beneath the bed for any sign of a chest, something that could contain the eggs.
He found a chest, but it was not big enough for the eggs, as far as he remembered.
Nonetheless, he opened it and grinned.
There was a well-maintained sword in it. Robert gently took it out and pulled the blade, slowly, revealing a Valyrian steel blade, one that gleamed in the moonlight that seeped into the room.
Quickly pushing the chest back, he searched for another chest to find the eggs but came up empty-handed.
Getting up, Robert looked around the room for any sign of a hidden compartment.
The only possible place was beneath the desk, which had a Valyrian steel statue on it that he took. Checking the drawers, he found a hidden compartment in the middle one and managed to open it after feeling around for a bit.
Inside it was a key, and Robert had no idea where it would lead.
Unless Illyrio had a secret vault, and the best place for it would be underground.
Robert left the room to search the manor for a basement but came up empty-handed. The only other underground place in the whole place would be the wine cellars, and who would search for eggs in a wine cellar of all places?
If nothing else, it was worth a look.
—
Robert was hiding behind a corner, waiting for the guards in front of the cellar entrance to leave.
They had been conversing for too long already, and he risked getting caught. Unsheathing the sword, Robert picked a pebble after searching the ground with his fingers and threw it to the left of the cellar, prompting the guards to turn.
It would take precious seconds he didn’t have to open the door, so he approached the guards from behind, avoiding moonlight and sticking to the shadows.
He swung the sword, decapitating the first guard, but the second one was just getting up after checking the ground, and the next strike hit the man’s helmet with a clang, causing the guard to let out a loud yelp.
A follow-up strike killed the second guard, but now the risk of capture had increased. He quickly kicked the head into the bushes and dragged the corpses into the wine cellar, listening for any sign of guards.
Thankfully, no one seemed to have heard anything.
Taking his flint and steel, Robert lit one of the torches up and walked inside. There were rows upon rows of wine barrels, but nothing that would indicate any secret lock to open a hidden compartment.
His attention was caught by the lack of a torch in one of the sconces. Playing with it, Robert eventually managed to pull it out, revealing a hole.
How classic, just like in a video game.
Slowly inserting the key, he had to apply a bit of muscle to turn it three times before the key activated a mechanism that slowly parted the bottom part of the wall section apart.
Inside the hidden alcove, there was an iron chest, one that barely squeezed in there, and one certainly large enough to contain three dragon eggs.
Which required another, smaller, key.
Robert considered jamming his knife into the lock to try his fortunes, but it would be too troublesome, and he had already killed too many for this mission to be a stealth one.
He needed to get the chest out of here.
Fortunately, there were ropes inside the cellar, and he tied the chest to his back like a backpack and beat it out of the room.
To his luck, there were lights burning inside the manor itself, meaning someone must have come across one of the corpses.
Shouts and screams of orders brought the guards to high alert, and they were buzzing like bees, seeking out the intruder.
An idea forming in his mind, Robert bolted for the stairs to climb up to the battlements where torches were being lit up. Someone noticed him, but Robert didn’t slow down, shouldering through the people in his way. At the top, he caught one of the guards and lifted the bastard, throwing him like a log right into the group running at him.
Taking his hook-rope, Robert quickly rappelled down the wall, but someone cut the rope, and he fell the last couple of feet down.
Springing to his feet, he ran in a zig-zag pattern to avoid the crossbow bolts and, aided by the darkness of the night, left their line of sight.
—
Carrying an iron chest on his back or not, Robert was too fast for the unprepared guards to catch him, especially with a significant head start.
With his heart beating out of his chest and a grin on his face, Robert finally reached the safety of the room he had rented.
The soon-to-be Father of the Dragons only fell asleep after the adrenaline left his system.
—
Northeast of Pentos
Leaving Pentos so soon after robbing Magister Mopatis was ill-advised, so Robert hid in the inn, only going out to eat and see to his needs. It wasn’t all that bad, as he needed time to open the chest.
Eventually, things settled down, though there were still guards searching for leads on the thief.
Now, he just needed a corpse to hatch the dragons and a place to hide.
Rather than head back to Braavos, Robert took work as a guard again, this time in Norvos.
The eggs were hidden in a saddle hanging on his horse, and since the journey so far was without any problems, he could think on how to find sacrifices to hatch the eggs. There was one obvious choice, and Robert didn’t see any problem in burning slavers.
It was a blight on humanity, and if some slavers died screaming, or their corpses were used as a sacrifice to bring the dragons back to life, Robert wouldn’t complain.
The Captain of the Guards, some Norvosi carrying a battle axe who sported a long mustache, screamed something, and the whole caravan came to a stop. Looking at where the men were focused, Robert saw fifty or so Dothraki riding at them, a small raiding party.
The guards gathered together, creating a wall to face the Dothraki, and the best way to face cavalry was with pikemen.
Robert joined his compatriots and raised a pike, ready to greet and break the cavalry charge.
The Dothraki, the discount Mongol riders they were, slammed into the pike formation, dying like fish in a barrel. Metal tips of the pikes pierced through the horses and some Dothraki, bringing the charge to a standstill.
Of course, that was just the thirty or so riders at the front, as the rest rode around to hit the caravan.
Fortunately, the caravan had crossbow carriers who aimed their weapons at the flankers.
The cavalry charge was stalled, and Robert would be damned if he wasted any more time with those bastards.
Mounting his horse, Robert screamed to the top of his lungs, “Come on, you horse fuckers!” They may not understand him, but a challenge was a challenge, and the Dothraki understood the intent behind it.
Two rode at him, and knowing he could only take one before the other got a shot, Robert pulled out his knife and threw it, nailing the left rider between his eyebrows, before his hammer with its longer reach sent the other Dothraki flying off with a caved-in chest.
Now he was the one flanking and swung his hammer left and right, each hit knocking a Dothraki rider off his horse and adding to his tally.
“Behind you.” The owner of the caravan, his employer, and the only person who knew Westerosi common screamed, and Robert turned around, grinning with the blood of his enemies trickling down his face.
The distance between him and the Dothraki was short, and Robert could only raise his hammer to block the kopesh.
The Dothraki, realizing he couldn’t win the strength contest, punched Robert.
Blinking at the audacity of getting slapped by someone hitting like a little girl, Robert’s own punch hit like a meaty hammer, knocking the Dothraki out, as well as a tooth.
This was so fucking fun.
—
Notes: Made some changes to how Matt and Robert interacted being in the same body, but I also tried to keep it short.
