court of lies | robert's rebellion

the storm's end

"when the dragon's blood meets the dragon's soul..."

279 AC, Storm's End

"I simply don't understand why everything must be this extravagant.", Robert huffed. "Surely princeling don't deserve such preparations. It's a fucking betrothal tourney not coronation."

They were in Jon's rooms in the west wing of Storm's End. Jon was sitting on his chair, busy with reading some reports that came from Robert's bannermen. He was wearing a glass placed on the tip of his nose, his hair all grey except the numerous white parts on the front. Face wrinkled with a frown, trying to understand the situation in Griffin's Roost, comparing the letters that came from Jon Connington and from his father, both hands are full with their long-written letters. Despite all, he sent a warning look to Robert still.

Him and Ned were sitting on the other side of Jon's desk, two chairs were placed side by side. Robert was wearing an all-black outfit, with white shirt and opened doublet with yellow stags on it, tapping his feet anxiously. Next to him there was Ned, looking like a proper lordling in his deep grey outfit and navy doublet with a direwolf brooch on top of his collar, brown hair falling down to his shoulders, looking as tired as Jon and clearly having a headache.

"How many times must I repeat myself for you to understand, Robert?", Jon sent him another glare when Robert sighed and nodded muliğtple times with boredom. "You too carry Targaryen blood in your veins. You are no less dragon than the prince, if it weren't your grandmother but grandfather, you would be a prince too. Why not show everything you got to humble them?"

"Because he is a fucking prince and I am not!", Robert snapped. "I don't even want to throw this fucking tourney, why would I care he found himself a Dornish broodmare? My parents had died for that cause and the best thing he could do was to chose a what? A sand dog to get marry!", he threw himself back to his chair. "I would sooner find myself a goat and olive oil than to touch whatever creature that woman is.", he turned to Ned and huffed. "That's what even Dornishmen does."

"I strongly suggest you to keep your comments to yourself when Princess Elia arrives with her entourage.", Ned leaned to him and warned him lowly. "I doubt your words would be taken kindly rather than an insult."

"Why would I care if they take it as an insult?", Robert made a cynical face. "What they will do? Take me down with their Dornish courage?"

"Enough.", Jon's voice was calm and distant, as if he wasn't listening them fully. But from the look he had sent to Robert, Ned understood that he was listening and wasn't happy with his foster son's choice of words. "You will not speak like this near anyone until this tourney ends, understood?"

"Since when telling the truth is such a bad thing?", Robert raised his eyebrows and made a frantic gesture with his hands. "You taught me that."

"I also taught you to speak with people properly.", Jon put down the papers to the desk. "If she is lucky, that Dornish scum will be our queen one day -sadly enough. And it is known that the Dornish women have the ability to poison men's minds to turn them into their slaves with their seduction tactics. Myriah Martell had done the same to Daeron the Good. His true reign began after that witch had died but well, she costed him two brothers and numerous nephews."

"Throne belonged to Daeron.", Ned frowned to his foster father. He was uncomfortable with the whole subject. "Daemon wanted to take what wasn't his."

"Daemon only wanted to have his love but that Dornish witch had sold the gracious Princess Daenerys to the sands of Dorne, without the consent of the king."

"Well then it means the king was weak.", Robert declared loudly. "If he was getting control by his wife, that man is nothing but a weakling."

"Not even the leaves may fall without the consent of the king.", Ned argued. "Daeron had achieved the long-lasting wish of the Targaryen kings and brough Dorne to the fold. Daemon was just greedy and filled with dishonour."