act ii . chapter l

THE PEACH
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ROBERT AWOKE IN A DAZE. He didn't recognize anything. The air smelled like food though. Robert liked that. When he shifted in the straw bed, he realized that eating may not be something he was completely up to. He glanced to his side with a grimace to check the wound he remembered suffering in the skirmish. His hairy, scarred chest was bare and wrapped around his torso were dingy white drags that were stained in blood.

He glanced around the room, looking fo someone to tell him where the hell he was, only to find an empty room. A cozy little bedroom that smelled like mold. "Is anyone here?" Robert called out. He heard a shuffle of feet and the sound shifted toward the door in front of him. In came Selwyn Tarth. "My Lord," he greeted, a young peasant girl following in behind him, "How is the pain?"

"I've had worse from my infant daughter," he grunted. "Nothing can hold me down for long."

"But it has, my lord," Selwyn said carefully, his thick, white eyebrows came together in worry. Robert waited for him to say something else, but no words followed.

"Are you gonna say anything else, damn it?" he bellowed.

The Lord's blue eyes cast down over his boots. "It's been nearly a fortnight, my Lord. Your wound... before we could get here, at the Peach, near the Stoney Sept in the Riverlands... it got infected. You've been in and out with a fever. Mostly delusional. We didn't know if you'd live."

Robert's mouth was awfully dry. "Mead, wine, anything but fucking water!" he croaked at the heavyset woman waiting behind Selwyn. She jumped at his harsh voice and hurried out of the room.

"And the war? My men? Jon Arryn? Ned Stark? Lyanna?"

Lord Tarth sighed. "Reports say that Jon Connington is headed this way. He has all the army he could muster from the Crownlands. Lord Stark made it to Winterfell. He's gathered an army larger than any and has already joined forces with Jon Arryn. They know of your state and are marching here to meet Lord Connington's force. They expect that you will still live. Lord Dondarrion said it was in our best interests to paint a strong picture of you, in the case of the raven being intercepted."

"Good, good, good..." Robert trailed off. "The war won't be won until Rhaegar Targaryen is killed."

"Or y-" Lord Tarth stopped himself.

"Or me, yes I know, Lord Tarth. But it's not going to happen."

Selwyn said nothing.

"And Lyanna?"

He frowned and didn't say a word. Robert's eyes darkened.

Selwyn nodded. "Do you feel strong?"

"Strong enough," he said, starting to get up. Selwyn seemed apprehensive. The woman moved quickly into the room and pushed him back onto the bed with one hand and holding a flagon of ale in her other.

"Alright, Lord. Lie back. Your fever ain't broke till yesterday." He hit his head on the head board and it was only then that he realized he had a throbbing headache. He groaned in pain, and didn't bother fighting the tavern wrench. Selwyn laughed.

"Aye, you heard the lass."

Robert was silent. The wrench had breasts that busted out of her top of her dress. Robert was heated immediately. Selwyn noticed Robert's animalistic stare over the girl. "Robert, I'm off to the Sept to inform the Lords of your consciousness. I'll be along later." He turned to walk out, chainmail and sword clinking, but he stopped, and rested his hand on Robert's shoulder. "Thank you, my lord, for my life. I'll never forget. Someday, I hope I see you on the Irone Throne."

Robert smiled. He had not forgotten the reason for his injury. "I don't regret it, Lord Tarth."

Selwyn smiled and walked across the room to the door. As he walked out, he held on to the door and peaked back in. "Oh and by the way, Robert: this is not just a tavern," he hinted, pointedly toward the woman pouring his ale.

Robert nodded to him as he took the horn. When Selwyn left, he shifted his focus to the wrench. "Well how have you been, my dear."

"Taking care of you for quite a while, my lord," she said, leaning over him and touching his forehead gently. Robert's eyes lingered on her chest. "Feels like I know you, even though you don't know me."

Robert moved his hand to the inside of her thigh and pulled her closer to the bed. Her brown eyes grew wide and her breath hitched. "I could, my dear. All I have to know is your name."

"I-I am just here to help you regain your strength, my lord." Her voice faltered when Robert presses her hand to his heat and moved his hand farther up her leg. He leaned up and whispered in her ear.

"Then help me."

She let out a soft moan and Robert knew he had won. He pulled her on her back, on top of him. He slipped out from under her and moved her farther onto the bed by her shoulders, pulling her skirt up. He winced in pain. He didn't care that he may have grabbed her too hard.

"My Lord!" she gasped, placing her head on her chest. "My Lord, please! I've never had man before. Be gentile, please."

Robert heartily laughed and pushed violently into hers. She screamed and clawed at his collar bone. But the pleasure was immense. He picked up his thrusting and she began to cry, begging him to stop.

But Robert never stopped until he finished. And then he went again, taking her from behind. It took a while for her to stop crying and from experience, Robert knew that she herself came undone until she physically couldn't anymore.

The steady flow of "please"s began to harmonize with the sound of hoof beats outside. Robert's ears perked up and he picked the girl up of the bed, finished quickly and threw her onto the bed, the girl absolutely spent.

But Robert was rejuvenated. He was alert and aware. And he knew the fight had come.

A/N: Hey guys!!! I'm so sorry!! It's been quite the while since I've updated, and I know this chapter is short. You have no clue how busy I've been, even with the quarantine. I figured that I would get tons of writing done, but actually quite the opposite. I've never written this little is such a long time!! Any way, the next chapter, Stannis, is almost done.

And question: have any of you ever watched the Nickelodeon show, Avatar: the Last Airbender?