(Varys POV)
Blood, fire, death and madness. Those were the things I had to deal with over the past few years, in increasing amounts. But nothing came close to the day Aerys opened the gates for the Lannisters. I warned him not to, but the Grand Maester told him otherwise, whispering that Lord Tywin was an old friend and would stand with him. I knew of Pycelle's secret meetings and that his stuttering was as false as peace in our time, but I hadn't thought that the King would listen to him when it truly mattered. I had worked hard to earn his trust, but alas... I made mistakes. I had to admit that.
Robert Baratheon.
The name that tasted like the most bitter lemon in existence. Who would have thought that he would be capable of the things he did during the rebellion? Who could have foreseen the bloodlust he had hidden behind that bright smile and radiant charisma? I knew he might be dangerous when I was relatively new in Westeros, but to think that he was this dangerous, that was a surprise. He hid his plans well, too well. Not even my little birds had told me anything about it. But Storm's End had become a blind spot as time passed, so it was hard to get information out of it — a significant weakness, as it turned out.
He had too much potential, too much charisma. So much so that he could talk down on the King and walk out of the hall as if nothing had happened. I tried to cull it a bit, to make him remember who the King was and who ruled the 7 Kingdoms. Looking back now, I can say with absolute certainty... it didn't work.
The guilds grew, although I wasn't against that, as I could take advantage of those. But Storm's End also grew. It became the most magnificent city in Westeros, if the reports are anything to go by. Clean, free of crime, at least unorganised crime and healthy. Everyone was put to work, and they did it with a smile and praises on their lips. Lord Stannis Baratheon, the Iron Wall, was as skilled as his brother. He was the backbone of Storm's End, while their parents had retreated into obscurity and took care of the youngest Baratheon brother.
Yes, it was a mistake to do to Lord and Lady Baratheon what Aerys had done. But at the time, it served its purpose. Or so I thought.
I hadn't realised how shrewd Robert Baratheon truly was, how he could swallow his massive pride and bide his time. How his anger built up and, when unleashed, resulted in the rebellion that drenched the realm in blood. But what I hadn't predicted, once again, was his reaction to the Princess, Rhaenys Targaryen. It managed to calm his madness and narrowly save Lord Tywin's life. I knew there was no love between Rhaegar and Elia Martell, but to see Lord Robert react that way... Only one conclusion was logical, and it frightened me.
King's Landing had fallen, and Robert Baratheon had been crowned King of the 7 Kingdoms. This meant one thing for me: I needed to leave as fast as possible. My position, while valuable, had to be given up. Otherwise, I would not enjoy my time for much longer.
I had packed everything I needed to travel light. A hood over my head, to hide my face, I made my way through the secret corridors and hallways, leading me to the underground tunnels. I knew most of them, or a lot of them, at least. Everything had been prepared for this possibility. I was going to take a ship out of King's Landing heading to Pentos, where my friend would wait for me. We now had a goal, a lifeline for the Targaryen bloodline. They would survive, no matter what happened to the former Queen and her children.
I held a torch to guide me through the darkness. Suddenly, I stopped, shocked at meeting a person. I did not know him, but I knew that whoever this was wouldn't be good for me. The man rubbed his left fist and turned to me.
"And where are you going?"
"There-"
"Don't bother, I don't give a fuck," he interrupted me.
I swallowed and moved my hand to my waist, where I had what might be my last chance. He looked at me for a moment, letting the silence settle.
"You know who I am, do ya?"
"You're with Lord Robert," I said.
"Aye, that I am. I'm Arthur Shelby. An' I'm 'ere for you," he said, jabbing a finger at me.
"What do the Peaky Blinders want from an insignificant eunuch?"
"King's Landin's under new management, mate. By order o' Robert Baratheon."
"And what do you want with me?" I repeated.
"Ahh, what—did ya think you'd slip away all quiet-like? Nah. Someone wants a word with ya."
He had a strange look in his eyes and a grin that told me he was not entirely sane. But if he was one of the Peaky Blinders, that was a given. They were dangerous. Incredibly so. I gripped the dagger behind my back, waiting for him to come closer. I knew his kind, arrogant and spontaneous. Just as he stood in front of me, I shot my hand forward, attempting to pierce his chest.
"Fuck! Hahahaha, Oi, look at that! Not bad, that! Got a bit o' bite in ya, eh!"
*BAMM*
I felt the pain of his fist hitting my face before realising what happened. I fell to the ground, groaning and trying to stand back up, but he kicked me in the face a moment later. He got down on my level and tilted his head.
"Y'alright there, ya daft cunt? Can't kill ya—Robert wants a chat—but I can make this proper unpleasant. Real unpleasant."
I dropped the dagger and raised my hands.
"I give-"
He punched me again. My brain rattled, and blood pooled out of my mouth. It hurt. Why did he hit me?
"Sorry 'bout that. Reflex, that is. Right then—on yer feet. Pick up yer fat arse an' start walkin'. Same way ya came."
.
I waited in my room. I waited three days for something to happen, and it was one of the worst times I had ever experienced. Only a little less than the time the mage cut off my testicles. I was given food twice a day, but that was it. No contact, no word spoken to me, no question answered, no information or contact with reality. For someone who had learned to rely on information and be the smartest in the room, this was horrendous.
Then, the door opened, and a large man appeared. He looked like he had experienced the worst in life and clawed his way out of it, only becoming scarred and stronger. His eyes told me that words were useless and anything apart from complete obedience would result in my death.
"Follow me."
That was all he said. I stood up and followed along. He led me through the halls of King's Landing, which I was familiar with, after having lived here for years. I prided myself on knowing every nook and cranny, but I didn't expect it to feel different. Three days after the sack, the smell of blood had disappeared. No bodies lay on the ground, no blood on the walls. It seemed as though it never happened. The banners had been removed, and the guards were different.
We didn't come across a single servant as we walked towards the royal quarters. Eventually, we entered the Small Council room. Two new guards stood at the entrance and opened the door. Inside sat the few remaining members of the Small Council... which was Pycelle, and that was it. The large man pointed to a seat and then left through another door, without saying a single word.
"It seems you were still alive, Spider. How f-fortunate..." Pycelle stuttered.
"A pleasure for you, surely, Grand Maester. Do you know what we are doing here?" I asked.
"I-I don't know for s-sure. Bu-but i-it--"
The door opened and saved me from the bumbling idiot. In walked the large and powerful frame of Robert Baratheon, followed by the previous large man who had brought me here.
"L-Lord Baratheon, I wou-d, ah, like t-to say, that- uh..."
"Close your mouth, before I do it."
His tone was deep but calm. He exuded a presence I had only known from the most dangerous and powerful of men. And all that without seeming to try. He was annoyed about something, I can tell, but I'm not sure about what. Robert didn't say anything after that, and we waited until the door opened again.
"Fuck, sorry I'm late."
"Good to see you, Arthur. Do you know where Thomas is?" Robert asked.
"Yeah… Thommy'll be 'ere any bleedin' minute now. Had to deal with a few cunts just now—nothin' serious. Blinders've got it handled… this one an' all," Arthur Shelby said and wiped his hands from what was clearly blood.
"Very well, sit down."
A moment later, the door opened once more, and the very leader of the Peaky Blinders gang walked in. He had a cold swagger about him that seemed to turn into immense respect as he entered Robert's presence.
"Handled?" Robert asked.
"Aye."
"Good, then let's start. I'm sure you both are very interested to know why you're here. Yesterday, I was crowned King of the 7 Kingdoms. I stand before the monumental task of rebuilding what was broken and what will be reduced to rubble in the coming weeks. This disgusting excuse of a capital city will be destroyed and rebuilt from the ground up. Sadly, I lack the funds to do that right now, all at once. The war took a toll on those who had little to begin with, and that's why I will have to postpone doing what I want to do."
I listened to Robert's words very closely. I read between the lines and understood that he was talking not just about the kingdom itself, but about Pycelle and me as well. So that's why I wasn't killed right away, he will use me. He can't afford to get rid of me, like he would want. This is good; it gives me time to appeal to him and prove how valuable and irreplaceable I am. At least that's what I'll try.
"Uh, your Grace is... uh s-smart to, to do that... yes. I believe--"
Robert didn't say anything. The large man, on the other hand, walked behind the chair, grabbed Pycelle by the head, and smashed it against the wooden table. I recoiled seeing this brutality. It wasn't that I was unaccustomed to violence and blood, but my nerves were tired. Robert didn't move from his spot and only watched Pycelle groan and cry, snot and tears running down his face. The wound bled and dirtied the table.
"Uhhnnn..."
"As I was saying," Robert continued. "The Small Council will experience a change. Jon isn't here right now, but he will most likely take a position. I wouldn't want him to focus too much on the Vale right now. As I'm sure you understand, you will not enjoy the remaining days here. I don't need you, Pycelle, and you will be dealt with after this talk. After you tell us everything about the Citadel and your secret contacts, that is. As for you, Varys... you will be more important."
"In what way... your Grace?" I forced my voice to remain steady.
"Thommy here, will be taking over your position as Master of Whispers. And you are honoured to be the one to hand over all of your assets to him. You will tell him everything you know, down to the tiniest detail. All the secrets you hid will be revealed, so that he can do it without you."
"..."
"Understood?"
"Yes, your Grace. May I ask something...?"
"What is it?"
"What will I do... after?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean, after Thomas Shelby has taken over my position... What will I do then?" I asked, hopeful.
"Huh? You will be killed, obviously."
...
"Your Grace, I-is there no-thing that I... I could--"
He looked at me with cold, emotionless eyes. There was no hatred in them, no anger... only pity and disgust.
"How pitiful you are. Did you think you would live after your little schemes? You will do as I just said, or you will find the most terrible of fates. The one who cut off your balls will look like a saint, and the most vile men and women will kill themselves after they see what I will do to you."
I felt a mountain press on my shoulder as he said that. I could picture it, the pain and suffering, as he made sure I wouldn't die.
"You played the game, Varys. Now you die. It's as simple as that."
After that, Robert stood up and walked away without saying another word. I suppose he's right.