章節 213: Chapter 213

ROBERT BARATHEON POV

Robert swung his hammer at the square who barely managed to take the brunt of the force with his shield, even as the wood cracked and groaned under the pressure.

The sweat gathered in his brow fell down in his eyes and he wiped it away with his hands, his large beer belly jiggling a bit as he backed away from the Lannister square and put the hammer down on the ground.

His arms ached from the punishment he had put them through. That he had been putting them through for the past month since he received that letter from Ned.

Five minutes, that's how long he was able to go on for before he got too tired to continue.

Pathetic.

He looked at his war hammer on the ground and then back at his hands.

He had never felt so weak when he tried to pick up the hammer a month ago and found that he had to exert all his strength from both his hands to pick it up and even then his grip was far from steady.

He knew that he had been falling ever since Lyanna's death. That all the wine and whores and his usual debauchery would eventually take it's toll. But to not even have the strength to pick up his own war hammer.

'That' better than anything told him how far he had fallen in his life.

He had not fucked single whore since that revelation. Using all the energy he could muster to get back the muscles that once allowed him to pick up the battle hammer with one hand and swing it with the strength to cave in whole chest pieces and shatter the rib cage.

He closed his eyes and once more saw the dying form of Rhaegar in front of him.

And the last words that left his lips.

'Lyanna'

Rage burned in his heart once again. Like it always did when he thought about the audacity of the rapist dragonspawn to take the name of his beloved with his last breath.

He hoped that Rhaegar was still alive. Just so he could kill that son of a bitch once again.

'Except that you can't do that anymore.' The voice that sounded much like his wife rang in his mind 'You're so weak and pathetic, you can't even pick up the war hammer with a single hand anymore.'

He opened his eyes and picked up the hammer once again.

It was still heavy in his hands but he was able to manage it far better than he had done a month ago.

He very much doubted that he would ever return to his prime when he was able to swing the war hammer with one hand and was called the Demon of the Trident.

He was too old, too tired for that.

But a war was coming.

He knew it with the the same conviction that he knew that his wife was a fucking bitch. And that his son was a cruel little shit who took pleasure in the pain and suffering of others.

He knew it in his bones.

A war was coming and that his friend, his best friend needed him.

And he would not fail his best friend this time.

He would not be late this time. Not when Ned had lost his last brother and needed him the most.

True, he might never return to his prime but that would not stop him from going to a war one last time or trying to help his brother in all but name.

He would never be as strong as he was before but he at least wanted to go down in a blaze of glory.

He looked in the eyes of the Lannister square and who braced with the shield and prepared for another bout before he heard sudden footsteps from behind him.

"Your Grace! Your Grace. Terrible news your grace."

He turned to look at yet another fucking Lannister. How many of these shits were there in Kings Landing.

"What is it boy?" he asked, not hiding the irritating he was feeling at having been interrupted like this.

"It's the Lord Hand your grace. Lord Jon Arryn has fallen ill. Grand Maester Pycelle has sent for you. Asked you to come to the Tower of the Hand quickly." The Lannister said in a single breath and his stomach fell.

"Gods be damned. Lead the way boy!" he shouted and ran after the younger boy, trying to ward away the horrible feeling in his chest.