[Chapter Size: 3600 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Seagard, 300 AC.
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"The ironborn are no longer a problem. We dealt with the islands in just over ten days. Only a few who were part of the siege of this city managed to escape, but they are no longer a threat to the city. Soon, all those we managed to rescue will be among you."
His words echoed through the crowd gathered in the center of the city, after he had given a speech to the common folk who were there to end the wars, seeking to bring justice for the crimes committed against the people of the riverlands throughout the war.
He could see the murmurs and the relief.
"Long live the king!" someone shouted.
"The son of the silver prince!"
"He helped us when no one else did!"
The shouts continued to echo through the place, as Jon turned to Lord Mallister, who stood beside him.
"A fine speech, Your Majesty," he said, upon noticing the king's eyes on him, though he looked at Jon with a bit more caution.
"Thank you, Lord Mallister. I will leave the city with you from now on. A few thousand Arcticans will remain here in case those groups of ironborn return, or if any Frey or Lannister troops come to the southern city, while I will take the liberty of advancing toward the Twins, where they will be more concerned with defending themselves from us." Jon said, as the man nodded.
"But there is something else I would like to speak to you about. About your conversation with your son in the manse... it cannot leave the city." Jon said, causing the man to turn pale.
'He might even be listening to us right now...' The mess of what his son had said. Now he understood what that meant.
"I have no problem with you talking about Arctic, it's just that I would not like that information to spread, at least not in the middle of a war. I don't want more enemies finding out that we have dragons. Although I also doubt they would believe such information."
"After all, for any lord of Westeros, it is far more logical that I would have simply descended from the Wall with dozens of dragons burning enemy armies. Anyone in the Seven Kingdoms who had that power would have done it. And I bet you think the same way." He said, making the man even more tense.
"Do not blame yourself, Lord Mallister," Jon continued in an indifferent tone. "I hold no anger toward you, or anything like that. I do things my own way. Dealing with dragons is not the best path to earn the trust of the Seven Kingdoms. You can see that by the city." He gestured around, where people were still celebrating.
"In another scenario, they would be afraid of us. Not that I am seeking the approval of the common people of Westeros, but this way, I can deal with problems more effectively. After all, they are my people as well, now." Jon finished.
He did not want his mere presence to be enough to make everyone kneel, simply by using his greatest military power over Westeros. He wanted to prove it, to see things as they are as well; advancing this way gave him the freedom to see the problems of Westeros in detail.
But there was also another reason, because he liked to feel the thrill of battles. He did not want to come to Westeros just to execute people without resistance. Dragons would certainly make his enemies kneel easily, and he did not want that.
"Of course... of course, Your Majesty..." the man stammered, while nodding, beginning to leave the platform.
"We will immediately help organize the troops." With those words, Jon mounted his horse along with his guards and they headed toward the city gate.
The banner of Arctic already waved at the top of the Mallister stronghold.
They passed through the city gate as they headed toward the beach, where the troops were already disembarking from the ships and bringing various crates and resources from the vessels.
The iron crates that could not be penetrated, even with an attack of flaming arrows, with reinforced wheels, were filled with wildfire.
Jon did not fail to look toward the upper part of the beach. There, he saw a man watching them. He wore cheap clothes, somewhat torn and dirty. He looked like someone from the common folk — which was not unusual, since the place was full of people from the villages and even from the city, watching the army organize itself.
Perhaps they had never seen such discipline as they marched in synchrony, organizing troops into nearly perfectly aligned platoons, marching with high-quality weapons and shields, many of them even with valyrian steel.
But, unlike the others, that man was peculiar.
Jon stared at him, and when the man finally noticed the king's gaze upon him, he immediately broke into a cold sweat. His heart raced. He stood up and ran in the opposite direction.
"Is there any problem, my king?" Lancelot did not fail to approach after noticing the king's gaze, remaining at his side.
"Nothing much... just a little rat. He's just going to do his job." Jon replied calmly, before looking away and continuing to supervise the commanders, helping to organize the troops.
He was not the type to stand idle, a leader who would be drinking wine while everything happened under his orders. Because of that, he remained there, while the troops began to climb up to enter the main road and march toward the Twins, which were not so far away — only a few days of travel.
Meanwhile, a bird followed the man who ran as fast as he could, crossing one of the nearby villages, always looking back to see if he was being chased.
He had no idea that there had been a bird above him the entire time, watching his every move.
The bird followed him until he took a horse from what seemed to be a stable for the village, with a man tending it. The man went to the place as he grabbed a horse in a great hurry, pulling it from one of the troughs.
"Where do you think you're going, Dix? You look terrified..." asked the village stableman. "I hope you're not bringing trouble to us," he added, in a serious tone.
"I have to warn Lord Frey about the Arcticans... I have to warn him!" the man replied, in an urgent tone — and clearly terrified, which was no surprise, this fellow was a known coward in the region.
"If they come here, I'll tell everything I know about you and what you're doing, sorry Dix, but my life is worth more than that. If you had any sense, you'd know that not even the Freys can deal with those guys. Did you see the giants? They'll tear the Freys to pieces, and I don't want any part in that. Drop this foolishness and hide, you fool. The Freys are finished. Don't get involved in this just for a few silver coins."
The man mocked him, but the other shook his head. "No... he'll give me gold coins. I have too much information. I'm sure he'll reward me when he learns his house is in danger," the coward replied, with clear greed.
The other just shook his head. "Do whatever you want. Just don't drag us into this, or I won't hesitate to report you, understand?" he growled.
The man simply mounted the ragged horse and rode off quickly, without saying anything else, while the other just watched.
The bird that had heard the entire conversation took flight, following the man as he entered the forest along the road.
The horse galloped at high speed until, two hours later, the man was caught by surprise. A rope was raised in the middle of the road between the trees, making his eyes widen before he hit it and fell off the horse, slamming hard against the ground and groaning in pain.
"Well, well... we caught one. Hey, isn't that Dix?" a voice sounded.
"The Freys' little bitch who sells information!" another replied, laughing.
The man, Dix, was still groaning on the ground, struggling to breathe from the fall.
"We have the chance to kill him. This man already betrayed us that time we looted the village. We were chased by that dozen riders a moon ago," said another, with clear desire for revenge.
The man felt someone kick his stomach, making him groan again.
"Come on, get up, you fool."
"Why don't we kill him now, Will?"
"Because that wouldn't be fun," Will replied.
"Fine. Just get on with it. See if he has anything of value and we'll take his horse."
"Please... don't..." Dix began to beg as he managed to speak again.
"Now you can talk. Tell me where you were going in such a hurry. You were heading toward the Twins."
"You don't understand... I need to warn Lord Frey. They've arrived... they're here!" the man said, pleading in an even more cowardly tone.
The bird landed on a nearby branch, watching the interaction.
The men looked at each other upon hearing that, before turning their attention back to him.
"What do you mean by 'they've arrived'? The way you say it, it almost sounds like you're saying those Arcticans are already in Westeros! HA!" one of them mocked.
"They're going to say the same thing as that Ironborn we captured, that the Arcticans are here as well..." said Will, seeming thoughtful.
The rumor that Arctic would enter the war at some point was not uncommon among whispers. Even though not everyone had yet heard about the ships at sea. In this case, these men, even so close to Seagard, had not gone out for a week to hear the rumors that the Arcticans were heading to the Iron Islands. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen when they joined the war as well, but for these bandits, the North was still silent. No concrete rumor had reached them about their arrival until now.
Many of them there were former members of the Northern or Riverlands armies who had turned to banditry due to the chaos of the war — they talked about it and could not help but frown.
"It's them! It's really them!" the man shouted, as if his life depended on it.
"What are you saying? They're really here?! Will, do you believe him?"
"I'm telling the truth! I'm saying the Arcticans have arrived! They are on the beach beside the city of Seagard. A hundred ships have docked, and they made Lord Mallister kneel. Their banner is now on the fortress. They brought Lord Mallister's son, Patrek, the heir! Now they are going to march toward the Twins..."
The bandits looked at each other, clearly caught off guard. "That seems to match what those Ironborn said..."
"So it's true..." another replied.
They had captured two Ironborn running in desperation a few hours earlier. They killed one and interrogated the other, who said that a people from the North had arrived and massacred them, forcing them to abandon the siege and flee.
At the time, one of the men had mocked it, not believing it. But now it seemed real.
"If it really is them... what should we do?"
"I don't want to get involved with those guys. You heard what they say they can do when they were traveling through Essos. And if the Ironborn ran like chickens, it might not be a lie." Will said.
"Let's get out of here before they arrive."
"And what are we going to do with him?" one of them asked, pointing at the man lying on the ground.
"Let him do his job as the Freys' whore. The Freys must be their enemies, right? So it's better that they try to kill each other and that will give us more time to escape and change area, until we see what will happen."
The leader replied, and no one disagreed.
The man was left there for a while, until he regained his strength and returned to his horse. Meanwhile, the bandits disappeared into the woods.
Dix, in turn, headed toward the Twins.
A few hours later, he arrived at the place and was stopped by scouts.
"I have urgent information! The Arcticans have docked at Seagard and intend to launch an attack against the Twins!" Dix said, making the Frey guards look at each other before leading him inside.
In the next moment, upon reaching the Twins, the gate was opened — confirmation that there was important news for House Frey.
"What is this filthy worm doing in front of me, interrupting my delicious pie?" asked Walder Frey, already old, with small spasms on his face, as he stared at the man dressed in rags.
"My lord, I always bring information here about the Mallisters, and you always reward me with coins," Dix replied, in his usual cowardly tone.
The bird that had been following Dix managed to enter through one of the openings of the hall, landing and observing the interaction.
"No... I don't remember you," said Walder Frey, suspiciously.
"He does that, father," replied someone who entered the hall. "Even if you don't remember, he has stood before you once or twice. He always brings us information." Black Walder approached.
"Really?" Walder replied to his bastard son.
"Whatever. What does he have for me? He looks like a frightened gazelle..." Walder Frey said, beginning to laugh, showing the lack of some of his teeth.
"Lord Frey, the Arcticans... they are in Seagard. A hundred of their ships have come. I saw them. Thousands of men are preparing to march," the man replied.
Walder stopped laughing, making a grimace.
"What?" he asked, as if he had not understood, while his son also frowned beside him.
"What are you saying?"
"He is saying the Arcticans are already here, father..." Black Walder said.
"Yes... they are here, Lord Frey." Dix said anxiously.
Those words left the hall in a dark atmosphere. The grandchildren and daughters of Lord Frey sitting in the corners could not help but shrink.
"No... it cannot be..." Walder murmured. "They were heading to the Iron Islands. How are they here?"
He said, now quite worried.
"Tell me everything."
The man began to report about the troops, the number of ships, how they entered Seagard, Lord Mallister raising the banner of Arctic alongside his on the fortress, the troops beginning to disembark with supplies, and the speech that they had already dealt with the ironborn, as well as more ships that were still arriving.
The tension in the hall of the Twins increased with every word.
"Traitor!" Walder Frey spat upon hearing about Lord Mallister.
"This is bad, father..." murmured one of Frey's other sons who were present.
Walder fell silent, grim.
"Send a letter to Tywin. Also send a letter to our men at the siege of Riverrun. Call troops here immediately."
He spoke with tension. "Do you think they can manage to attack?" a grandson asked.
"We will endure. If they want to lay siege to the Twins, then so be it. We have some hostages from the North, do we not?" Lord Frey said.
"We have Edmure Tully, Maege Mormont, and Greatjon. The others are some unimportant names in the dungeons, father. The Lannisters and the Boltons took all the other important hostages." Black Walder informed.
"Damn them... how did we let our hostages be taken like that? But we still have three! That's three!" he said, though he became somewhat worried, but brushed it aside.
"Whatever... we will deal with them," he replied, now with irritation.
The others present — sons and grandsons — could not help but still show tension.
Dix was still there, standing, watching everything.
Frey turned his attention to him, making a grimace. "Why are you still in front of me? Get this beggar out of here!" Walder Frey said angrily.
"But, my lord... I brought important information..." Dix tried to argue.
Walder stared at him with contempt. "Very well. Give him some coins and remove him from the Twins immediately."
With that, the man was taken outside.
"Prepare for a siege," Walder finally said. "Black Walder, you will handle the defenses. All my other sons here are useless." Lord Frey replied.
Meanwhile, the bird that had observed everything blinked a few times. Somewhere far away, someone came out of a state of whitened eyes.
"You finally returned..." The voice of her handmaiden, who was also accompanying her in the war, came, and Arya blinked a few times before looking at her.
"I'm back... I'll inform Jon and ride for a while." Arya said, while Mearin nodded.
Arya was in a carriage, surrounded by the royal guard. "Princess..." one of them greeted.
She nodded, approaching her horse tied to the luxury carriage.
She mounted the horse after untying it and went to where Jon was, speaking with Barristan further ahead, as they discussed the war, the region, the Freys, the Lannisters, the Tyrells, and even the North.
"Jon, I have information that our enemy already knows of our presence," Arya said as she arrived with her horse beside him.
Jon looked at her, raising an eyebrow, with a mocking smile.
"Are you talking about that informant who took information about us to the Freys? And about that little bird that landed in the middle of the hall?" Jon replied calmly, leaving Arya surprised.
"You knew?" she said, surprised.
"Of course I did. It was obvious you were up to something when you decided to go by carriage with Mearin, in a mysterious way instead of riding with us," Jon said, while the army continued marching along the road.
"I already knew about the informant, just as you followed him. I did that as well... but in a much more discreet way."
Arya frowned upon hearing Jon say that. "And where were you?"
"When that man, Dix, went to get the horse, I was one of the horses. When he was stopped by the bandits, I was just a rodent passing between the trees near them. And when he informed Walder Frey, I was Black Walder's dog that was beside him until he left the table to speak with his father."
Arya stared at him, Jon could very well expand his perception at all times.
She just made a slight pout and continued riding in silence.
"Do you really think you can surpass the king?" Jorelle could not help but provoke from the side.
"I was trying to do my part..." Arya replied.
"And doesn't it seem like you are doing that, Arya? Keep it up. Those are good attempts," Jon, who heard her complaining, said, with a slight tone of provocation.
"You're not helping much," Arya grumbled.
They continued advancing for a while, until Arya approached Jon.
"Jon... and how is the North? Has Bran found Alys Karstark?" Arya asked, curious.
Jon, who was monitoring the North in real time, had not taken his attention off the events. While the Arcticans were stationed at the Wall and preparing, Jon informed Arya about Mors Umber and Lyanna Mormont being with Bran at the Wall for a few days and that recently, Alys Karstark was traveling north, intending to find them and evade the men her uncle had sent after her.
"They will probably find her tomorrow. The Arcticans are escorting her," Jon replied, and Arya nodded.
"My king, it is already getting dark." A royal guard suggested.
"Yes, we will stop for today, we will continue tomorrow. Prepare the camp!" Jon gave the order.
The days passed. Because it was an army of five thousand men, they were much slower than simply riding at high speed.
Along the way, they encountered some groups of bandits in the region. That group the informant had found was not the only one.
Jon ordered his men to clear those camps immediately.
He knew that many of those men — even knights — had turned to banditry because they had no other option. Still, they had committed crimes.
And they would pay for it.
Many were caught off guard directly by Arctic's ranger units, silent and deadly, who massacred them with ease, without even giving them a chance to react, while a rain of arrows fell upon them.
Some camps were empty, probably because news that Arctic was there had already reached some of the groups.
Frey scouts were also found trying to observe them from a distance or hiding. They were easily caught in their hiding places after the Wargs found them, while Jon also helped locate them, ordering his men to deal with them.
Some tried to flee on horseback, but they lost control of the animals, which charged directly into the midst of the Arctican troops, without the riders being able to control them. It was Jon forcing the animals to act that way.
After extracting some information, they were killed in the same way they had dealt with the Ironborn. Jon would not leave any Frey alive — not after the letters he had stolen from Walder Frey's office.
Which had been quite easy, since the man was too confident to imagine that his office would be invaded inside his own home. He did not even bother to burn the letters, leaving them practically exposed.
Perhaps the maester of the Twins might have suggested something like that, but he was killed when Walder Frey discovered that information was being sent to the Citadel. As a proud man, he would never allow the man to remain free — and he executed him.
And, just as Jon had planned before, a few days after leaving the coast, he finally arrived at the Twins with his army, observing the two fortresses over the river from a distance.
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