50-50

Tolfdir roamed around the Red Keep for nearly an hour before finding a servant to lead him to a room, while surprised that Robert would keep an eunuch as a servant, Tolfdir didn't bother thinking about it too long as the man was polite enough, once he reached the room he closed the door right behind him and locked it.

Unsheathing both his swords, carefully laying them down on a desk against the wall, Tolfdir slowly began to remove his armor. Starting with unfastening his belt, then his right pauldron, followed by the left side of his cloak. Letting the belt hang, he moved onto separating the backplate from the chestplate by loosening two belts on both of his sides.

While this was once difficult to do on his own, he managed to find a method to do it solo over the years. Slipping the cuirass off over his head to the left, as the left sided pauldron was molded into the cuirass' itself with some chainmail to allow some movement, he laid it on the desk with his other items. Next to come off was his gauntlets, then his mangled chainmail before unhooking the belt that held the linen underneath.

Once it was all off, Tolfdir was reduced to a simple discolored white tunic, and a pair of light brown tapered breeches. He hadn't bothered removing his sabatons because they were just too damn comfortable.

Clearing some space on the desk by stacking most of his armor on its edge, he began to inspect his swords. First picking up the bastard sword he ran his finger down its flat, and carefully inspected its edge, the cross guard, leather wrapped handle, and its spiraled pommel. It was a full 59 inches (~149cm) of pure craftsmanship, a slight smile came to his face as he remembered the feeling of denting someone's helmet with the pommel, yet it could never live up to the satisficing 'crunch' the short sword could produce.

Laying the bastard sword down he moved on to his favorite weapon. It was the first weapon he had forged, along with the last. Its blade's edge was about as wide as the tip of his index finger, and flatter than a board. Its blade was about the width of his palm, and a little over half of the length of his bastard sword. The sword itself was blacker than night, and forged with shoddy material and someone once accused him of simply using a long ingot instead of a sword…

Despite its shorter length, it weighed almost four times that of the bastard sword (~14lb/6kg), having been forged as one piece of solid iron. With only a simple leather wrapping for the handle. Unlike the steel of the bastard sword, the iron of the crude short sword carried the true destructive power Tolfdir loved to exploit on the battlefield where plate armor littered the field like flowers.

Ah… the days of scavenging plate armor… a thought hit his mind in the next moment, as the places he buried his hordes plate armor laid, buried under the blood soak soil.

*Knock, Knock,* Yet, he was roused from his thoughts, "Tolfdir… can we talk…?"

"Huh…? Robert, what are you doing?" Tolfdir spoke as he moved towards the door, grabbing his short sword as he rose from his chair.

"Tolf—" Tolfdir opened the door, and Robert didn't hesitate to somehow manage to slip past the door, Tolfdir followed his movements, slamming the door in the Kingsguard's face. With a flick of his short sword an impact rang out as the lock slammed shut, "Come on, Tolfdir, why are you looking at me like that!"

Robert didn't like the look on Tolfdir's face, as it was one he had seen many times before. It was the same look he smeared across his face after the Battle of Bells, "What did you do…?" Honestly Robert was scared to ask, it was easier to lie when you don't know it's a lie after all…

"Hmm?— All I did was inspect some of my gear," Tolfdir lifted his short sword, showing it to Robert who cringed at the sight of the blade, his war hammer could easy flatten a foe's chest… Yet, Tolfdir's short sword crumbled its opponents, he didn't know how many people have been dropped with a 'light' blow to the neck, or fell to the ground from a blow to the inner thigh and never stand again…

"You're not going to use that thing in the Melee right?!" Robert panicked for a brief moment, he couldn't have too many die during a tourney! Nobody would come back if you would show up.

"Huh? Why not, it's 'technically' a training sword."

"Nope. As your king, and friend is unnerved being in the presence of that 'thing' I forbid you from using during the Melee." Robert forced a serious tone as Tolfdir carelessly bounced his sword in his hand, simply enjoying the weight with a faint smile.

Tolfdir scrunched his nose in faint displeasure, "Alright, but I want Jamie to pick out the sword I'll be using," simply because he didn't really trust anyone else. The one time he had meet him the man seemed alright, so it'd be good to leave it to him.

"Haha! Alright," Robert leaned in, instantly becoming serious, "I put all of my personal funds on you, I'll split it 50-50 if you do."

Tolfdir's smile grew near manical, Tolfdir whispered with a chill in his tone, "Since I'm being paid so… handsomely, under the employ of a king no less… It'll 'surely' be done."

'Yup, f*ck that…' Robert smoothed his expression as Tolfdir stepped back, revealing the short sword which had been hidden behind his back. "Alright, I've said all I needed, I'll have a meal delivered to your quarters."

"Thanks," Tolfdir gave a small smile of thanks.

'Thank the gods, He's back!' Robert quickly unlocked the door, slipped out then closed it behind him. The moment it closed he looked over to his Kingsguard, once again drawing a blank on his name, "Let's go."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Welcome!" Robert joyfully called out as 'The' Olenna Tyrell walked into one of the many meeting rooms and took a seat hardly even paying attention to the man, Robert's gaze shifted to the young boy meekly standing at her side, yet his eyes held a veiled confidence that hadn't fooled Robert, with narrowed eyes they shifted back to Olenna, yet they couldn't help but soften, "So… the rumors were true."

Olenna scoffed, "Who cares, my child is well taken care of, and receives all the love it would need for two lifetimes, there is no need to trouble 'him' with 'this'."

Robert watched at the boy's eyes, slightly narrowed shifting between both the adults, "Despite your opinion, 'he' should know."

"I sent a raven 4 years ago to Wickenden, 'He' knew. 'He' said he wasn't in the right mind to raise a child, and honestly I was forced to agree. When I saw what had happened to my army after that night I was crushed… How could he show so much such warmth and care? Only to destroy everything I had planned… I wanted to hate him but I just couldn't bring myself to… How could I truly hate a rival perfectly suited for me?" Once Olenna had finished, the boy's eyes snapped to Robert expectantly waiting for his reply.

"You knew where he was… and didn't inform me…?" Robert leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, tipping it towards him slightly.

"It wasn't like he was hard to find, just hire a bunch of Sellswords in different regions until you found him. That is his profession, I don't think he'd turn that down for anything. Not even for a beautiful and majestic castle overlooking the sunset."

Robert grumbled, before letting out a sigh, "I think I've been robbed…"

"The king?! Robbed…? Ha! Only Tolfdir could do such a thing, and if he did he definitely got a hefty amount of coin to do it!" Olenna veiled her laugh with his hand, her eyes narrowing in delight.

Robert shook his head, "Nope he got a small plot of land and paid me 97 years of taxes ahead of time, nearly half the plot would be mountains… There is a port town nearby as well, so even if he planned to build a small village it wouldn't be profitable…"

Olenna hummed in veiled excitement, as he thrummed her brain deep in thought, "Did he perhaps find a valuable mine…?"

Robert momentarily pursed his lips in thought, "It's possible, he told me he had found a large cave…"

Olenna furrowed her brows, "No no, Tolfdir interested in a mere 'cave'. He won't move easily if he isn't sure that he would profit, he must have found something ridiculous by chance and now he is investing everything he's got into it. …Ah! Why else would he show up for a tourney when he never bothered before! He's lacking funds… A lot of funds…"

"Hey, he couldn't be thinking of building a castle right? There is no way that money craved man would ever 'waste' his money on building a castle… right…?" Olenna refused to believe it, yet why ahd she thought of it in the first place…

Robert frowned, with the amount of years Tolfdir's land would be tax free, it could possibly be feasible to build a castle, and get one's funds in a potentially profitable situation… Yet, he had studied the maps he had of the surrounding area, it was majority mountainous regions… The workload would be ridiculous, the amount of funds needed just to source and feed those workers would cripple most Houses…

"I don't believe it, I'd place my coin in the mine before a castle," Robert eventually replied yet he seemed unfocused.

'A cave large enough to fit all of King's Landing…'

"What if that cave was large enough to fit King's Landing?" Robert quietly inquired.

Olenna narrowed her eyes as she sank into thought, "Wickenden is known for its beeswax, candles would be hard nor costly to source. Aside from maybe a vault for his 'Victory Horde' it would be practically useless…"

The duo delved into an intense session while Tobin fiercely watched with rapt attention…