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Red Keep.
The king's bedchamber was stifling hot, the air thick enough to choke on.
Joffrey felt ice-cold anyway, the chill seeping straight out of his bones.
He held Robert's hand and still couldn't believe any of this was real.
It felt like a fever-dream gone wrong.
All he remembered was the blood.
So much blood.
Robert's and the boar's, mixed together until the whole clearing looked black-red.
He'd poured everything into the skill, driving his mind straight into the boar's skull, trying to seize control.
Then he felt the spear rip through his own body and a knife twist through his brain.
When he snapped back, Robert was already pinned under the boar, face white as paper.
Then came the frantic ride—stretcher, pounding hooves, the road jolting like it wanted to shake the life out of him.
Joffrey rode beside the litter the whole way, watching fresh blood seep through the bandages and drip into the dust, one red drop at a time.
Robert kept his eyes closed.
Every so often his fingers would twitch, or he'd mutter a curse.
The door opened.
Robert's eyes cracked open. He crooked a weak finger.
"Ned. Come here."
Joffrey stepped aside and stood in silence.
Eddard crossed the room fast, then stopped dead.
He looked like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
The man who'd been roaring and laughing a few days ago now lay collapsed on the bed like an empty wineskin.
"Gods…" Eddard's voice sounded strangled. "What happened?"
"A fucking demon," Robert rasped, pale as death.
He dragged in two shallow breaths, chest heaving with the effort.
"Thought the bastard was finished. Didn't dodge. Then the fucker…"
The blanket was pulled back.
Grand Maester Pycelle had sewn the wound as best he could, but the ugly gash still looked like it belonged on a corpse.
"Smells like shit. Cover it," Robert growled.
"Gods… they got me good this time."
He tried to grin. It came out bloody.
"But I made the pig pay. Shoved my knife straight through its eye."
"You all saw it, right? Tell me you saw!"
"Yes," Renly said, sweat beading on his forehead. "The beast snapped the spear and drove its tusk into my brother's gut."
"We stuck it with half a dozen spears and it kept coming."
"Only when my brother scrambled its brains did the thing finally die."
"Even dead wasn't enough," Robert coughed. "You bring the carcass back?"
Renly nodded.
"Roast the fucker tonight," Robert ordered. "All of you are eating it."
His gaze drifted across the room and settled on Cersei.
"You too."
He reached out, trying to touch her face.
His hand trembled in mid-air. Cersei caught it and pressed it to her cheek.
Robert smiled then—a strange, soft smile Joffrey had never seen before. Not mocking, not angry. Just… relieved.
"Wretched woman," he said, coughing again. "These last fifteen years you've hated me and I've hated you."
"When I hit you, I know you thought about sliding a knife between my ribs."
"But… ah, fuck it." His hand slipped from her face.
"You won't have to look at me anymore. Happy now?"
Cersei's eyes glistened.
"Robert… my love…" Her voice caught.
"And you." Robert turned to Renly.
The king's youngest brother leaned in close.
"You're not a boy anymore. Stop fucking around," Robert said, breathing hard. "Find a wife. Have some children."
"And quit fighting with Stannis. He's not evil, just has a stick up his ass."
Renly nodded, stunned.
"And you, old man." Robert looked at Pycelle.
The Grand Maester shuffled forward on shaky legs.
"You did everything you could," Robert said, squeezing the old man's fingers. His voice was fading fast. "This one's on me. I don't blame you."
"Don't let anyone else blame you either."
Pycelle opened his mouth, eyes wet. "Your Grace—"
"Joff. Come here."
Joffrey stepped to the bedside.
Robert looked at him, eyes suddenly full of everything at once—pride, regret, guilt, and something deeper.
"I see it now," Robert whispered. "That wasn't luck. That was fate."
"You were born to be king."
He tried to ruffle Joffrey's hair.
The hand rose slowly, every inch costing him. Joffrey lowered his head so Robert could reach.
"Don't be like me," Robert said, thumb brushing through the golden strands. "Don't live your whole life and only realize at the end you did it all wrong."
His hand fell away.
"All right. Everyone out."
"Out, out." Robert closed his eyes, chest rising in tiny movements. "I need a private word with Ned."
"You can come back later."
"I—" Cersei started.
"You too," Robert said without opening his eyes.
His voice still carried that old stubborn edge, but it sounded like it came from very far away.
"Can't you give me even this one moment?"
The door clicked shut.
In the corridor everyone stood in heavy silence.
Only Renly paced, face blank with shock.
"My brother will be fine," he kept saying, voice floating. "He has to be fine."
He grabbed Pycelle's sleeve. "Tell me he'll be fine!"
Pycelle nodded frantically, nearly weeping. "Yes, yes, of course, yes—"
Joffrey leaned against the wall and said nothing.
He kept replaying the look Robert had given him, and the weight of that hand on his head.
His chest felt hollow. He didn't want to do anything.
Time crawled.
The door finally opened.
Eddard stood there, face calm as still water.
"His Grace wants you back inside," he said, voice flat, like he'd just swallowed gravel.
They filed in.
Cersei, Renly, Pycelle—all of them witnesses.
They stood by the bed while Robert, with painful effort, lifted the royal seal and pressed it into the hot yellow wax Eddard had dripped onto the parchment.
"When I'm gone," Robert whispered, eyes closed, voice almost gone, "the Small Council will open it."
"Now… give me something for the pain. I want to sleep."
One day.
Two days.
Three days.
Night fell.
The Red Keep lay wrapped in solemn quiet.
Servants walked on tiptoe. Every torch in the halls had been swapped for candles; wax tears slid down like frozen grief.
The whole castle sat in mourning.
Because today the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm—
Robert Baratheon, First of His Name—
He was gone.
He had left the entire kingdom behind.
Or, to put it plainly:
That fucking Robert had up and ditched the whole damn realm.