driftfleet | Bobby B

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Bobby B - One

Who: Robert Baratheon
Broadcast: Fleetwide video.
Action: The Marsiva
When: Soon.

[The camera catches view of a man who is as thick as he is tall standing in front of the massive windows that separate the safety of the Marsiva from the inhospitable void of space on the other side of it. For many, this would be a breathtaking view of the cosmos. The King saw it only as a nuisance. Dressed in rich silk and velvet with a antlered crown on his head, Robert Baratheon was no man to be toyed with and he was eager to be free, even if he could not fully comprehend what he was seeing. He had never been a learned man and the concept of space itself was so far beyond his sphere of experience. He saw nothing but a night sky and though he could not see the ground, that only posed a problem to be solved later.

Later meaning after he had broken through the glass with a chair that he had caused significant damage to by beating it repeatedly against the window. With each thrust he roared in something between fury and excitement.]

That's right! Try and cage me, you bastards! Do you think this metal prison can hold me? Come now! Have at me!

[Yet for all his bravado and effort, the window did not even crack. Besides that, he was not so fit as he was in his youth. Winded and exhausted, he eventually righted the dented chair so he could sit on it instead. Only then did he turn his attention back to the communicator. He could not say why or how, but he understood that it was meant for communicating. He twisted in his hands a few times before deciding to play the fool and speak into it.]

...well? Does this damned bloody thing work or not?

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[Well, Tyrion thought to himsef, at least it wasn't Cersei. He could handle Robert well enough - give the man a whore and some wine and something to hunt and he was fairly happy. Since Tyrion wasn't sure what was here for that -- and he had to protect Bran and Sansa from ... well, whatever idiocy Robert might have brought with him, he brooded on his words before he finally turned the video on and spoke.]

Dear brother-in-law, I think you will find our captors ... rather less likely to meet you upon the field of battle.

[... Tyrion. The last thing he wanted to see was some Lannister lurking about. Robert had no reason to ever much like the youngest of Tywin's brood, but it was fair to say that he disliked Tyrion the least of the three. That was scarcely a compliment in his favor, though. There was only one problem, however.]

Imp. I had it from your sister that you were being held by Lady Stark.

[It's where the whole bloody mess started, after all. Gods but the nagging Cersei had given him about the plight of her poor younger brother.]

[Yes, Tyrion is not precisely pleased to see you either, Robert. He would have preferred to have Varys, frankly, if he was going to see another person from home. Certainly not his former drunken brother-in-law. Not in a situation rife with possible outcomes.

However, he would make a likely flesh shield if Cersei showed up, so there was that.]

That was some time ago, your Majesty. [Was his smooth reply.] I am afraid you have lost some time in your transfer to this place.

Have I? You've grown uglier, to be sure. [The scar does not escape his notice. If anything can be said for Robert, he's bluntly honest at least.]

Will I find my lady wife here as well? [He could think of no one he could desire less in this place. Yes, he would even prefer the company of Rhaegar Targaryen. At the least of it, he could kill that dragon bastard a second time.]

Yes, but what I have lost in looks, I have gained in experience and wisdom. [He tipped a hand in a slight bow.] Experience that you will require here, your Majesty. Experience I will be happy to offer you ... for a price.

[He shook his head.] Not as of yet, although I hope for both of our sakes this will not be something that comes to pass.

[It might end up in dead heat to see who could kill her first.]

[Price! Tyrion had always been presumptuous, but it was a bit much to go naming prices with the king. Were he not some form of kin, he might very well have the dwarf thrown out on his ass.]

You can stuff your price, Imp. So long as my wife is not here to worm on my ear, then what more do I need? Not unless you've managed some way off this blighted boat.

[Tyrion's smile was a faint one.] Very well, if you wish to continue to go un-armed ... that is no concern of mine. I am afraid there is no Kingsguard here to guarantee your safety, and Jaime is alas, far and gone as well.

[He looked around.] I am working on the latter. That is a plan that will take time ... and treaties with the right people.

Do you think I need those prigged up sots to protect me? Much less that brother of yours. [He never relied on them all that much. There was a reason he only took a few of them with him to Winterfell, after all.

... still a weapon.]

Tell me, how would you manage a weapon? Much less these treaties.

[Yes. Yes Tyrion does. He says nothing, merely folds his fingertips together and states simply.]

We all have augments. Mine is in engineering. Thus, I shall engineer a weapon. I have also been here longer than you have, your Majesty. I have gotten a ... full taste of what these people are capable of. If we are to survive this, if any of us are to survive - we must build lasting alliances with one another. Luckily, I have already started inroads in that direction.

[He has no idea what this business about augments is all about, but Robert hasn't actually got a chance to learn what his is yet. That sails right over his head.]

Tell me of these so-called inroads. What are the names of these allies? How many men can they field to a battle?

[Ah, dearest brother-in-law. As always you are looking for the greatest forces, and not the lever that can unbalance them.]

My lord, the ships are too small to hold entire armies. Rather I am building individuals who will be useful later on. For example, people like Littlefinger, and Varys. Once we are in a place to organize troops - these are the people you will need by your side.

The coin counter and the eunuch? You come to me with your bold words and it's the likes of them you're after? Were your wits made to match your size, Imp?

[Oh, certainly Varys had a way of making himself seem a friend and oh so invaluable, just as Littlefinger had his way with finding coins.... but Robert was typical of any lord in the Seven Kingdoms: he saw them both as having extremely limited use, but of no consequence otherwise.]

[Here, Tyrion's lips twisted just so, before he stated simply.] Yet it is because of them that your country stands so solidly. Do not mistake their silken robes for weakness, my Lord. There is steel enough in making business deals that sustain the Seven Kingdoms.

However, if it is metal you seek - I have met several knights, several warriors, two assassins, a wizard of no little ability and many more to come. They have come to know me, and they will parlay through me as well.

[His tone turns crisp.] And I can assure you, they have no loyalty to Westeros. You will have to rely on your 'faithful' subjects for that.

You're not without a spine, Imp. I'll grant you that. But do not forget I'm not your Lord. What price would my faithful subject ask for all this?

[He does not like this angle that Tyrion is playing. It's too presumptuous and far too blatant. At least when Littlefinger and Varys whispered in his ear, they tricked him into thinking it was his own idea.

[You are King of Nothing here, Robert Baratheon. But you still have your uses, so I shall pander to your vanity. is what Tyrion thinks, but does not say. He has changed much in the years that Robert has died - the scar, the beard that barely covers it. If nothing else, the bitterness in his gaze has become even deeper than when it was before ...

And perhaps the most shocking, is that he is sober.

He does not expect Robert to note any of these things. He will, however, play this as it is meant to be played.]

Your Majesty - I only ask that you grant your protection over your faithful subjects here, to sword and shield if necessary. Not only myself -- but to the Stark children as well. As Eddard Stark was - is - your oldest friend, I beg your indulgences in asking for you to ensure their safety.

[Robert is likewise sober. He's not at all enjoying the experience.]

I do not need to be told to defend my own. Sansa was to be good daughter and I would not leave that lad, Bran, to fend for himself. And you as well. I'll not let it be said that I was a king who did not protect his own.

[That at least might make him distinct from the Mad King. If he could do that much, it might just be enough.]

[Have I pricked your pride, Noble Stag? Good. Hopefully that will keep your hammer at the ready. Tyrion dipped his head low in a respectful bow.]

My gratitude knows no bounds. As you know, I am ill-equipped to protect either one of them outside of my wit. We are lucky to have you as our Warrior King.

Luck, aye. Or cursed. There's no help for it, though. But since you claim to have so much wit, how am I to manage getting off this Marveva?

[He's had a lifetime to learn the names of places in Westeros. Thirty minutes in space is little enough to start remembering the names of ships.]

I believe it may be equal parts, your Majesty ... case in point. You cannot leave the ship until you have been assigned to your own. Such is the case with all of us. However, you find yourself in luck. While the rest of us were on board, they invaded our minds.

[A bright, sharp smile.] I am pleased you avoided such a fate.

Invaded your minds? Speak sense, Imp. Did they cut you open to reach it?

[That would explain the scar.]

Alas, if only they had. Foul magics, your Majesty. They were able to sift through my darkest secrets.

[He made sure to put a small handwave in there. Dramatic effect, and all.]

Gods only know what they'd seek from there.

[Even Robert knows that Tyrion has an appetite to match Robert's, though he can't help but imagine it being somehow more perverse.]

Secrets, your Majesty. Gods only know I keep many of them.

[Is Tyrion's simple reply. He has an appetite, certainly, but his appetite does not need to be covered up as closely as his nearest relations.]

Bugger your secrets. And fuck these Atrojans as well. Do your work, Imp. If you should find out where to find them, I'll take the honor of killing them for you.

[He will not smirk, no he shall not. He dips his head respectfully, and states.]

As you will it, your Majesty, it shall be done.

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Bobby B - One

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