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Chapter 43 - Wedding Day
🕑 Added 2025-08-07 12:12:02 +0000 UTCStormlands
Asgard
“My lord, these are the new additions to the management, as you called it.” Robert used a lot of strange words that Tyrion hadn’t heard before, which sometimes required explanations.
Robert looked at the trio arrayed before him. “Go on, introduce us.”
“He,” Tyrion pointed to the oldest man, one in his forties with gaunt cheeks, “is Jory Royce, the previous Master of Customs at Gulltown before Petyr Baelish framed him. He is a hardworking man and came with a reference from Lord Arryn.”
“Didn’t feel like staying at Gulltown, Jory?” Robert wondered why they had spared the man in the first place; not that it was a bad thing, but the crimes Baelish had framed him for would have led to either the rope or the Wall.
A dark look crossed the man’s eyes at the mention of his former home. “Aye, my lord. Gulltown looked different after spending months in the dungeons. I couldn’t stay there.”
Oh well, Gulltown’s loss, his gain. “Alright, if Jon himself vouches for you, welcome to Asgard. We’ll entrust the customs and docks to you.”
“I won’t let you down, my lord.” Jory wanted to show his gratitude by bending the knee, but Robert just patted the man on the shoulder, calling him a “good man.”
Tyrion pointed to the other man, who stepped forward with pride. “Next is Ornek Kho of Qohor; he is a master builder, but the constant skirmishes between the Free Cities had tired him. He, and his family, are seeking a safer place to live.” He too was aging, though his muscles, built through decades of labor, looked strong and gave him a youthful look.
Free Cities, owing to their less constrictive ways, were better in many fields when compared to Westeros and their loss is his gain.
Robert patted Tyrion on the shoulder."You won’t have to oversee the construction sites anymore.”
"Welcome to Asgard, Master Ornek. It doesn't get any safer then here."
“Indeed, my lord, and I couldn’t be happier about it.” Ornek’s accent was harsh and guttural, reflecting his native tongue, yet he maintained a respectful demeanor.
The last person was a bit surprising, in that an Essosi woman wouldn’t really search for prospective work in Westeros, where the fairer sex was looked down on in most of the continent. Thyrene Qala from Braavos. She had worked in the Iron Bank and in the palace of the Sea Lord with official recommendation letters. With neat, neat black hair and eyes and brown skin, she was certainly beautiful, though her gaze would no doubt make men think twice before approaching her.
Robert nodded. Unlike the rest of Westeros, he did not have a problem with putting a woman in charge.
He read the letters, and Thyrene had apparently led the renovation work in both places, as well as the construction of an annex. “Miss Thyrene, these are rather impressive positions to work at and no doubt pay well. What brings you to Asgard?” She could have stayed in Braavos and built herself fortune and fame.
“As you say, Lord Robert, they were good positions, but I wanted to leave my mark on the world.” Ah, so the fortune and fame Braavos offered wasn’t enough for her.
Ambitious.
“And Asgard is the perfect place for that.”
“Yes.”
“Looking at your letters, I can put you in charge of keeping track of my projects for Asgard. Any knowledge on city planning?” Leading those projects, as well as the several other works mentioned in the letters, was not the same as building a city, and Robert, with his lacking knowledge, was bound to miss something critical.
“I have studied the layouts of many of the Free Cities, and the ones long turned to ruin as well.” She launched into an explanation of her studies on the different ways the buildings and cities around Essos were built and how her drawings for the new annex had won her the honor.
“Depending on your success as the Project Manager,” Robert continued without explaining the word to the woman, “I may promote you to the station of Asgard’s City Manager, where you’ll be responsible for any construction the city may need.”
Thyrene’s grateful smile told her answer. “I shall strive to live up to your expectations, my lord. Thank you for giving me this chance.”
“Tyrion will get you settled.”
—
With the new additions, the workload Tyrion and Davos had would lessen significantly. The new additions would have to be watched, but if they betrayed him, he could always feed the traitor to his dragons.
Now, he just had to get ready for Stannis and Delena’s wedding. His gifts were ready, work was delegated, and Robert mounted Obelisk, leaving Slifer behind to protect Asgard.
“If something that requires my presence happens, just send a message with Slifer; he’ll know to bring it to me.”
“Yes, my lord, we wish your brother and his lady wife a happy and fruitful marriage.”
“Thanks, Tyrion.” With that, Robert took off.
—
Storm’s End
The distance between Storm’s End and Asgard was hundred and fifty miles with his estimates, and would take six hours of continuous flight to reach his birth home.
But with the new speed of his dragons, it took two hours, and only because he chose a slow journey to savor the moment.
Even from the sky, preparations for the wedding could be seen, and Robert had to land away from the castle so Obelisk’s wings did not send anything flying away.
Walking with his dragon following right behind like a more than twenty-foot-long fire-breathing puppy, the guests gave Robert a wide berth. Most of the Stormlanders were here, as expected, but Rhaegar’s cronies were nowhere to be seen.
Good thing too; they would spoil the celebrations.
Jon and Elbert had arrived after the auction, along with Elia and Baelor, as well as a gaggle of Reach nobles.
His great-uncle Harbert was at the gates and was the first one to greet him.
“Well, well, well, would you look at this. Asgard’s one and only demon slayer.”
“Hello to you too, Uncle, but don’t worry, it's just Robert to you.”
Harbert guffawed, gathering Robert in a hug, which the younger man returned. “It's not every day you hear a tale worthy of the Age of Heroes. All the bards in the Stormlands sing of your story, but everyone wants to hear it from your mouth.”
“This day belongs to Uncle Stannis; no need for me to steal all the attention.”
“After the wedding then.”
“Sure, why not?”
—
His family, except for Renly, who was playing with Lord Tarth’s only living child, Brienne, were busy with the last-minute preparations, so Robert didn’t do more than just let them know he was here.
Seeing as he had nothing better to do, Robert took the children for a flight, with Lord Selwyn all too happy for the chance.
The children were ecstatic, screaming to their hearts content in the sky, but all too soon for their tastes, it was time to go down for the wedding.
—
Robert evaded the lords and ladies wanting to speak to him “on this joyful occasion that may lead to further strengthening of the ties between noble families.”” a.k.a. “please marry my daughter/sister/niece” and went to find the groom.
“Sup, little brother?” Robert gestured to the servants to give the brothers a space, and they left quietly.
Stannis was confused at the unknown word but ignored it, as Robert seemed to enjoy confusing people with them. “Brother, how are you?”
Robert fixed his little brother’s hair, giving it some flair. “Good, good, ready for the wedding?”
“I am.”
“Any last-minute jitters?” Robert asked, grinning, and Stannis became suspicious.
“No.” The younger Baratheon brother replied hesitantly.
Robert wasn’t going to disappoint Stannis on his suspicion. “Of course not, especially with the way you two were sucking each other’s faces back at Asgard.”
Stannis went beet red. “You saw that?!”
“Don’t shout; you’re going to draw attention, and yes, I did. My, don’t get me wrong, but I never expected it from a dutiful man like you, Stannis.” This wasn’t the same cold and harsh Stannis in the canon, though his little brother still possessed his just, dutiful, and fair traits.
“We didn’t do anything more than kissing.” Stannis immediately rushed to defend his betrothed, but Robert just waved his hand, dismissing his concerns.
“Stannis, please, as if I would judge two people showing their love to one another.”
“And you won’t tell anyone?” By that, Stannis meant their parents, not that Robert would tell anyone.
“It's your and Delena's business, no one else's."
“Thank you, brother.”
“Don’t mention it. By the way, don’t drink too much; you and I are going on a short trip tomorrow.”
“Where?”
“It’s a surprise~” Robert answered in a sing-song voice and left Stannis to get ready, allowing the servants to return.
—
His father, finally having the time for a break, stopped him as Robert made to sit down.
Steffon’s tone was serious. “Come with me, we need to talk.” So Robert didn’t resist as he was dragged by the arm.
“Did something happen?” He asked once they were out of sight.
His old man was angry, Robert could tell, though it felt aimed at him. “Yes, it did.”
“Well?” The suspense was annoying Robert.
“You do know who the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands is, right?” Oh, so that’s what it was about.
“Yes, it is you. Did you hit your head and forget that fact, father?” Teasing his father further set the older man off.
“No, but you seem to have forgotten to pay your taxes.” Steffon’s voice was seething, but he tried not to shout.
Even if Robert was his son, he had to pay his taxes, as the relation between a lord paramount and his subject did still exist.
Robert’s smile turned to a laughter, which caused veins to pop on Steffon's forehead. “Pops, I don’t pay taxes to anyone, not even you. If you want me to, you’re going to have to make me.”
“Make you?!” Steffon finally lost it and shouted, checking around to make sure none heard him.
Robert shrugged. He had three really large reasons for refusing to pay taxes and fully intended to use them. “Beat me in a duel, and I’ll pay taxes; otherwise, forget it.”
“This is not a joke. People will think either I am being soft on you because you’re my son or that you don’t respect me as your Lord Paramount.” Steffon Baratheon would not suffer people’s disrespect at his position or at his person, even from his son.
“I won’t pay you taxes, but how about I invest coin in Baratheon territory, and you can earn more taxes that way?” He was already going to do that, but unless the IRS came knocking on his door with the backing of the U.S. military, Robert wouldn’t pay taxes, ever.
Robert tended to have good ideas these days, so Steffon nodded tentatively. “I am listening.”
“The territory I have is too small for me to produce everything I want to for trade. Asgard has artisans from the Free Cities and luxury items that we are going to produce very soon. I’ll invest a couple million gold dragons in Baratheon territory, and you’ll reap the rewards. Merchants will flock to your territory, and villages and towns will pop up, which will mean more businesses, more trade, and more coin passing through the Baratheon territory.”
Robert had already planned to invest in Storm’s End and around it, both because he wanted to increase the production capabilities of Asgard Trading Company and because he could trust his father and Stannis down the line.
“That sounds… good. Truly good.”
—
Father and son decided to leave any further discussion for later, as it was time for the wedding. The small sept of Storm’s End was packed full, with only the most important of the lords on either side getting a seat as they waited for the bride and the groom.
Stannis was at the altar with every member of House Baratheon on the front seats, looking splendid in his silken black cloak with the golden stag, black doublet and breeches, and high leather boots.
Soon enough, Colin Florent walked his daughter, Delena, to Stannis, with her handmaids and other family already waiting.
The bride was dressed just as well as the groom, though she had chosen a white silk gown with fox laces at the hems and a white cloak with House Florent’s sigil on it, which she would be exchanging very soon.
Comments
orcun demir
Sorry about that, I use quillbot to edit chapters, this happens sometimes. Should be fixed now.
Space Core
You definitely need to have this edit so many mistakes
