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Robert is a badass who treats killing gods and slaying demons like just another Thursday. Did you know it was inspired by Thairon, the protagonist of my original story, Arrival : Ruptures, long before I began to write it? Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Lys
Robert groaned, a dry, drawn-out noise of suffering leaving his lips. The first thing he noticed was that he felt like a giant bruise.
A wooden cup was brought to his lips, and a hand lifted his head up slightly. "Drink, my lord, it will soothe your throat."
He took a sip, feeling the sour taste in his mouth wash away with each gulp of water. Once the cup was empty, he lay back down.
"How long?" he asked, wetting his dry lips. The water had brought clarity to his mind, and he started to get a sense of his bearings.
"Two weeks since you have been brought in."
"Fuck."
"We kept you fed with beef broth with shredded meat, but you need to start eating to regain your strength."
He grunted, rubbing his growling stomach.
The dishes brought before him were soft. Boiled meat, boiled vegetables, and porridge. Korryn was against him eating so much and upsetting his stomach. He was starving enough to ignore the good doctor's advice.
Once he stopped feeling like there was a hole in his stomach, he lay down, gazing at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes and slightly parted lips.
"Where is Sandor?"
"Hanging assassins, my lord."
Had it not caused him pain, he would have chuckled. "Good."
"How am I doing?" Korryn's mouth tightened at the question.
Robert took a deep breath, feeling his ribs strain. "You can tell the truth, not like any of it is your fault."
This was all his work.
"Your leg has been broken in three places. I set the bone straight as much as I could, but you will need a cane."
He fell silent at the answer. Even back in Volantis, his left leg has been in horrible shape. But to hear it... "What else?"
"Your left eye is damaged beyond my abilities to heal. You won't be totally blind, but the loss of vision is severe."
He squinted his left eye. "I got that much from the constant blur."
"Other than that, you are surprisingly healthy. If it were anyone else, we might have been holding a funeral now."
Robert chuckled. The victory this time had come at a cost. Not only were several hundred thousand enslaved people dead, he was crippled.
"How soon can I move?" he asked. There was much to do, and his state did not magically vanish it all.
"Your leg needs time for the bones to heal. Straining it will only make your limp worse in the long term. I advise bed rest for another month."
His lips thinned into a straight line. He needed to be at where Volantis used to be as soon as possible.
"I understand. Send Sandor when he returns."
"As you wish."
He closed his eyes, waiting for the doctor to leave. Once he heard the door close, he opened his eyes. He could not straighten himself much as the sharp pain in his abdomen made him grimace.
His leg was in a splint, wrapped in thick bandages.
Ugly, purple blotches that were healing at the edges covered his leg from ankle to knee. He didn't even attempt to move it, knowing better than to push his luck.
"Fucking finally."
"Sandor," he nodded at his guard. "I barely remember what happened after mounting the Obelisk. Remind me."
"Volantis is gone. A giant pillar of fire left a city-sized hole on the ground."
"Yes, Korryn did say something about that."
"Everyone is pissing themselves, and I've killed a dozen assassins."
"Any idea who sent them?" Because there were too many people for him to know for certain without torturing someone for answers.
"No."
"Doesn't matter; once I am up, they will back off." Otherwise, he would find out who they were.
"Fucking hell," Sandor swore for the umpteenth time, "you actually killed a god."
"Wasn't easy, but yes." He took a deep breath. "Speaking of killing a god, I need to return to Volantis."
"What for?" There was nothing left of the city, not even ruins.
He glanced at the man and turned to look at the ceiling again. "I kept seeing people, probably the ones that were sacrificed to R'hllor."
Sandor had followed him across the known world for two deadly tasks. He had earned the right to know this much.
"Shit."
"They tell me to claim what is mine."
Sandor blinked rapidly before raising his voice. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I haven't a clue. Hence, why I need to return to Volantis."
He cursed under his breath, kicking the side of the door.
"Korryn was insistent. You need to rest. You couldn't even ride a carriage in this state, much less a dragon."
—
He had a brilliant idea.
Even after a month, he would need to work to regain his strength to ride a dragon. But what if he didn't have to?
It started with a call to Asgard. The operators had become talented enough; he could see his grandmother's visage as if looking at a mirror.
She looked ready to murder him on the spot.
Assuring her that he was in good health and would be returning soon took time. Then he had to do the same with Tyrion and Davos.
When his welfare check was over, he summoned Tobho Mott to Valhalla.
The master blacksmith was to take Valyrian steel chains and secure them on a simple but durable carriage after removing the wheels. Next, those chains needed to be tied to two harnesses.
Finally, a door on the front side to allow the wheeled bed to be pushed inside.
The first medical airlift in the history of Planetos.
"My lord, this is a horrible idea. You have been awake for just over a week," Korryn protested, even as the bed was wheeled forward.
Robert waved his hand. "It will be fine."
"I highly doubt that." He stomped off. If his medical advice was going to be ignored, there was no reason to stay here.
Sandor watched the doctor leave. "He is right, this is fucking stupid."
"Noted, now get on."
Sandor growled but pushed the wheeled bed inside. Tobho had even gone as far as to add a spring-loaded system so the carriage would not shake on landing.
Brilliant.
He gave the order, and the dragons took off in sync. The load was distributed evenly, and the locks around the small wheels kept the bed in place. Slowly, the air car rose from the ground, much to the astonishment of the crowd.
The stupor left its place to deafening cheers.
—
"I can't believe you had this carriage built just so you could leave early."
"I am not moving out of the bed but still travelling to Volantis. It's a win-win."
"Wake me up when we are there." With this speed, he could nap for a couple of hours.
Once his eyes had closed, sleep had found him quickly. So did the visions. The spirits of the dead beckoned him forward to Volantis louder than before.
"I will."
That promise cut through the cacophony. The spirits disappeared in droves.
He slept in peace for the remainder of the journey.
—
Sandor looked out the window. His eyes narrowed at the sight.
One of the oldest cities in the world, with over a million people, gone in an instant. All because R'hllor didn't want Robert to be the one to defeat the Others. Now, Volantis was nothing but dust in the wind, a monument to his foolishness.
And to Robert's might.
He had to beat the envoys of the Free Cities back with the threat of the dragons. Desperate as they were, he saw dozens of noblemen beg for an audience on their knees.
Even Yi-Ti was terrified now.
"What the fuck is that?" he muttered to himself. Right at the center of the hole, he could see a crimson glow now that the sun was setting.
"Get up, we are here."
"Huh? Oh, right."
"There is something glowing down there."
Robert couldn't see it from his side. He nodded, opening the window on his side. "Boys, land near the glow down in the hole."
His dragons growled.
The carriage began to descend. The walls of the giant hole were smooth and angled towards the ground. The stone had melted and cooled down, but not before flowing freely to the ground.
Being so close to finding whatever awaited him down there made the slow landing grate his patience like cheese.
Once the spring-loaded plates touched the ground, the dragons landed slowly.
"I'll check the area first," Sandor said. He left the carriage without a word, sword drawn just in case.
It was dark.
But closeby, something warm and inviting offered a small light. His throat bobbed. The first step was the most difficult one to take. After that, it was just a matter of not stopping.
He could feel it get hot as he closed on the object.
Standing a few feet away from the crystals, he did not dare take another step forward. Sharp, blood-red crystals, akin to solidified flames, created an altar of twin claws around a sword. At least, another crystal roughly shaped like a sword. He could see no edge, only the handle, the handguard, and the part that would be the blade.
He raised a hand towards the sword. Flames lashed out of nowhere, and he jumped back, eyes wide. His heart hammered on his chest, leaving him to scramble back.
"What is it?"
"Something you have to handle."
"Wheel me there."
Sandor squeezed his fists and shuddered. He removed the locks and pulled the bed out of the carriage. His every step was delayed a second. Once he got too close again, the flames burned into existence, pushing him back.
"Give me your sword," Robert said, turning to sit on the bed. It had made his journey extremely comfortable and painless, but this part seemed to require only him.
He handed over his sword as instructed, taking a step back.
Leaning on the sword, he approached the crystals, careful to not jostle his leg. His upright position made the pain flare up again. He had to be quick.
Unlike with Sandor, there were no flames as he approached.
He could feel the warmth emanating from the sword-shaped crystal. It was now or never, and he took the final step. He leaned on the large crystals, checking the temperature first. Laying the Valyrian steel sword aside, he reached out.
His hand stopped inches away from the handle. A dark, slimy feeling creeped into his heart. Eyes closed, he took a deep breath and crushed the doubt swelling inside him.
He grasped the handle, bracing himself.
The crystals surrounding the sword broke into flecks of light that flowed into the sword. The wind, so still and lifeless here, carried two words to him.
"Thank you."
And nothing else happened. There were no grand explosions, no flame shows, nothing.
He pulled it out of the ground. It was most likely Nightblood since R'hllor did not carry a weapon. Whatever happened to his sword, he had no idea. He couldn't even be sure it was Nightblood one hundred percent.
Sandor leaned forward. "That's it?"
"Seems so." He paused for a second. "Let's camp here tonight and return in the morning. The dragons must be tired."
Sandor wheeled Robert back in and removed the harnesses so the beasts could either rest or fly out to hunt. Down in this deep hole, there were no dangers to be cautious of.
Simple rations kept them fed while the carriage offered an excellent spot to sleep in.
It had all gone smoothly.
—
Upon returning to Lys, he boarded a ship of the trade fleet returning to Asgard. He was good enough to travel with special accommodations. Not only had he missed home, he didn't want to dodge assassins.
His treatment would also progress better in the comfort of Valhalla. All those reasons were enough for Korryn to drop his objections. The good doctor would be on the ship, checking on his state.
The journey itself was boring. The dragons have been sent to Asgard ahead, as he could not coordinate them from the ship. No one even knew he was on the ship, bar the crew itself.
Ever since the first time he had flown to Braavos, escorting the small trade fleet, no undesirable actors had the courage to attack a vessel carrying the flag of Asgard Trading Company.
They were safe.
His leg was healing well, though it did not change the need for a cane. There wasn't any improvement in his left eye, leaving him in a foul mood.
He distracted himself with the sword. It was warm to touch, but only for him. Violent flames barred anyone else from touching it.
It was the extent of it.
He could not summon the flames at will, and the sword was too dull to cut through anything. It was useful to keep him warm at night, but not much else. He set it aside after a couple of days, turning his attention to his other trophy.
The crystal.
Gaunter had said that it was life force crystallized. It could be used to heal wounds, but he had no idea how.
The unnatural growth of his dragons during the first year had happened because he burned a similar, but smaller, crystal with the Dothraki rider.
If a teardrop could accelerate the growth of dragons so greatly, the one that barely fit his palm could heal his wounds.
In theory.
He tried everything he could think of as a fantasy geek. Focusing on the crystal while meditating to draw its power, trying to resonate his soul with it, and even considering just breaking parts off and swallowing it.
Success was elusive so far. I
He was not going to be fighting ever unless his leg and eye healed, so there was plenty of time.
"If only there was a user manual," he thought, willing the crystal to do anything at all. By tomorrow, the fleet would be docking at Asgard.
Putting the crystal under his pillow and covering the sword with the blanket, he went to sleep. If he was going to be wheeled out of the ship, he wanted to be well rested for it.
—
Asgard
Valhalla
"Bring medicine for fever, and ice," Korryn ordered, running after Sandor as he pushed the wheeled bed to the medical wing in Valhalla.
Everything had gone smoothly up until the morning. He found Robert drenched in sweat in his bed, squirming like a fish out of water.
"He said he was fine. What happened?" Rhaelle asked. She had been waiting at the docks to give her grandson a piece of her mind. She had not expected him to be rushed out of the ship in this state.
"A fever unlike any I have ever seen. We need to lower his temperature before his organs shut down."
Korryn shut the medical room's door behind him, leaving everyone outside to sit down and pray.
Notes: Here is the link to the ChatGPT generated image of the sword: https://i.imgur.com/E9wObMc.png
—
In the next chapter:
His skin was melting.
Or at least, that's what it felt like. The blood in his veins was boiling, and he was suffocating. Yet, there was a familiar feeling inside the sea of red he found himself in. An old friend he had not seen in years, a food he had not tasted in quite a while, and a home that he last returned to ages ago.
He sought that sensation amid the heat.
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