( Robert Baratheon's perspective)
Today, I've had another annoying day. It's gotten so interesting, just like always. We're only a week away from the Iron Islands ' invasion, and my golden bitch wants me to kill someone considered a hero of the North. For what? To defend his knightly honor... That idiotic Lannister knight openly mocked the knights of the North. If Eddard weren't the supreme ruler of the North, we would have put that knight to death long ago.
I can't punish Aermir, but even if my idiot son deserves it, subjects can't attack their ruler. I should at least put his pet to death. What a waste; that beast would be a force to be reckoned with in battle, and I really look forward to seeing how it performs.
Everyone took their places. My good queen and our complaining son arrived too. Poor thing, a whole day has passed and he's still crying over a punch to the face. I don't understand how I could have a son like him, but on the other hand, my father had a son like Renly. I still find it hard to believe my own brother is a sword-swallower. After the assembly began, all the lords started arguing like prostitutes in a brothel.
After half an hour of pointless arguing, it was finally time to pronounce the verdict. I raised my hand to signal everyone to be quiet, and immediately there was complete silence.
"There was no need to summon Ser Drasil; he hadn't done anything to warrant punishment."
Cersei jumped up from her seat, about to object, but I pointed at her and said angrily:
"Shut up, woman! I'm speaking here. I'm stating my opinion, and you have no right to say anything outside of it! As King of the Seven Kingdoms, I cannot punish a knight, for everything he did was to defend his honor and resist malicious words. This is my final verdict on Ser Drasil, but his pet is different. His pet harmed the Crown Prince, an unforgivable crime, so I sent someone..."
Before I could finish speaking, a large golden eagle swooped down and transformed into a person covered in moss, twigs, and leaves. He wore a wooden mask shaped like an old man's face, and his long beard was made of moss and leaves. When he spoke, the mask moved as if it were a real face. Seeing this, I felt a chill run down my spine and was so shocked that I didn't know what to do.
"Greetings to everyone here. I am Emre the Druid, priest of the Old Gods."
A few seconds later, everyone who had been stunned came to their senses. The first to wake up was Ser Selmy, who nimbly leaped in front of me, drew his sword, and pointed it at the Druid.
"Now, there is no reason for them to be wary of me. Now, I come here as a friend of all those who respect the Old Gods. I am here only to prevent the Andals and the King of Rhoynar from committing a grave error against the Old Gods."
I scoffed at his words; most people didn't realize what he had done; he was essentially threatening me and declaring myself king of the Andals and Rhoynar, nothing more, not the King of the First Men. Ser Selmy must have noticed what was happening, for he sternly advised the Druid.
" Emre the Druid, please use the correct title for our King. He is also the King of the First Men."
"Sorry, I didn't know he was a descendant of the Greenseer or the Winter King."
Ser Selmy hesitated before answering.
"He is... he is not a descendant of either."
"Then I don't understand. Is he a follower of the Old Gods?"
He was a defender of faith and a devout follower of the Seven.
"Then I'm even more confused. How could someone like that... Ah, never mind... We're not here for that, King Robert; I'm here today to deliver a message from the Old Gods."
Is this person claiming he can communicate with God? From his appearance alone, we can see that he is not a clown, but a messenger from God.
"Don't get me wrong, I can't talk to the gods, but they can send me images and messages, which we call Green Dreams. Anyway, as far as I know, you're about to spit on the Old Gods. Is that true?"
The more I listened, the more confused I became. This Druid jumped from one topic to another without paying any attention; just a second ago, he was questioning my legitimacy, and now he was trying to drive a wedge between the North and me.
"I did not do such a thing. If you continue to speak so arrogantly, even if you truly are a priest of the Old Gods, I will have no choice but to punish you. A priest cannot speak to a king like that!"
"Ah, yes. A priest cannot speak to a king like that, but I have no king. I only obey the Old Gods, and no one but them can command me."
"You're rude!..."
Manden Moore must have been driven to his wits' end by my shouts. He attacked the Druid, but what happened next was even more horrific.
"Zagon jelmāz ( Summon Lightning )"
Suddenly, a massive bolt of lightning struck Ser Moore on the head in the clear sky, and his jet-black body fell to the ground. Everyone fell silent, as if swallowing their tongues, until Ser Selmy's shout shattered the veil of silence.
"Protect the King! Attack!!"
The Druid transformed into an eagle once more, landing on a building before reverting to human form. Meanwhile, the Lannister archers surrounding us began attacking with arrows and crossbow bolts, but the Druid stood nonchalantly on the rooftop, not a single arrow hitting him. The Druid put his hand to his mouth, feigning a yawn, then gestured with his hands, seemingly telling us to calm down.
"Please calm down. I don't want to hurt anyone, but if you continue to attack me, you're leaving me no choice but to defend myself."
He had just killed one of Westeros's deadliest warriors, and he hadn't even fought seriously.