[Chapter Size: 3700 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Crownlands, 300 AC.
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Lord Staunton gathered with his family to await the group of Arctican men advancing into the castle after disembarking at the port of Rook's Rest.
"How are things, Lord Staunton? I'm Bardin, commander of one of Arctic's legions. I'm here on behalf of my superior to position everything around the region and ensure that no man leaves for the south over the next 2 days," said the Arctican as he greeted him.
The Arcticans began positioning themselves throughout the castle courtyard, none of them wearing heavy armor yet, only ordinary clothes and cloaks.
"Yes, yes. The castle is under Arctic's management, but... is it true?" the man asked with some uncertainty. "Is it true that you have an army as large as the one in King's Landing at Driftmark and Dragonstone, but no one has seen them yet?"
He was nervous. He was taking a gamble. He had received a letter directly from Jon Arctic himself saying that an army of eighty thousand men would be landing on the mainland to face the Tyrells and Lannisters in an all-out war, which was why he expected House Staunton's support in providing land for them to dock.
The king himself had said that the lord and his House would be rewarded according to the help they provided.
Lord Staunton had been surprised by that and, after discussing the matter, though somewhat uncertain, had eventually agreed. They had always been loyal to the Targaryens. King Aerys had done many terrible things, yes, but Prince Rhaegar had been loved by many. Even with his family's mistakes, they were willing to help his last son.
There were also Arctic's achievements at sea and in trade, since no one doubted that they were filthy rich, both from the purchases made in the south and from their own deposits within the Iron Bank and their travels throughout Essos. There was no doubt that, now that they had arrived, things would become difficult for their enemies.
That had only been confirmed by the extermination of the Ironborn in the North and, later, by the disappearance of the Arcticans as they came south along the western side of the continent. There were rumors that they had entered the Riverlands, destroyed the Freys, and then departed. Other rumors claimed that they were already in the Westerlands, devastating the western lands.
So, between being caught in the middle of a war between the Arcticans and the Lannisters, especially knowing that two lords had been mysteriously killed in the last few days, he would have to choose a side.
And he wasn't particularly interested in choosing that spoiled king who was possibly a bastard born of incest outside of marriage.
The Arctican man simply smiled at the Lord. "Of course it is, Lord Staunton. The entire army is already on its way here. We sent these first thirty ships only to secure the entire area and also eliminate all the spies. Soon, tens of thousands of Arctican soldiers will be coming here with heavy weapons. And don't worry, this won't be a battle like the ones you're familiar with in Westeros. It will be a completely one-sided war. There is no doubt that we will easily deal with all our enemies," said the man.
And when he spoke of enemies, he meant more than the Tyrells and Lannisters. Anyone who tried to go against Arctic at that moment would be erased.
The lord merely swallowed hard and nodded. His young son also seemed quite uneasy upon hearing that. Lord Staunton simply placed a hand on his back and smiled at the Arctican.
"His Majesty spoke to me personally. How could I not honor such a request?" said the man with an almost forced smile.
"Good, because the king himself will also take part in the war. He's coming in a way that will shock all Seven Kingdoms," said the man.
Although Lord Staunton did not know what that meant, he simply nodded. The day quickly passed. Several Arctican men rode out on horseback, leaving the city as they began taking control of the entire region, reaching all the way to its borders. Outposts and camps were quickly established, and they began releasing their animals to patrol the entire area. They could not allow a single raven to get through with a possible message that an army was now entering the Crownlands.
And it wasn't only the Stauntons' region. The neighboring lands were also being completely controlled. Ships were even arriving in large numbers in territories whose lords had died in certain strange accidents. The Arcticans took everyone by surprise, but they were also controlling the population outside the castle walls. At first, the people were frightened, but after a few conversations, they began to calm down.
Meanwhile, the Arcticans went to the sealed castles, informing them of what was happening and making it clear that if they opened their gates to attack them, they would be destroyed. There was also no point in sending ravens to King's Landing, as it would be useless.
Now that they were controlling the entire region, everything was much calmer, since no one wanted to open the gates. And the ravens no longer made any difference, with the king preventing them all from flying.
The Arcticans even seemed to be enjoying themselves as they dominated the entire area. The common people were still frightened, watching more and more ships, one after another, all along the coast and throughout the ports. They watched supplies being unloaded from the vessels and giants passing by as the ground seemed to tremble beneath their footsteps alone, forcing some people to crane their necks to get a better look at them.
The dwarves were also present in enormous numbers. They were not those small, insecure dwarves people were used to seeing around and making fun of. They carried enormous warhammers, some with heads almost the size of their own, made entirely of solid steel. They stared at anyone as though they were always ready for a fight, making even men twice their size swallow hard and avert their eyes.
Ducken, Thor, Aurane, and the other lords gathered in the hall of Rook's Rest. All the regions were already under control, and the army was beginning to prepare to start marching the following day.
"We have news!" Thor entered the hall, while a knight of the Royal Guard came right behind him with a letter and an excited expression. Lord Staunton, his family, and the other lords were the only ones who were not Arctican among that crowd of captains, army commanders, members of the Royal Guard, and ministers.
"My lords," said the Arctican with the letter, approaching. "Our king has just conquered the heart of the Reach," he announced. "Highgarden has fallen, and our king has commanded the Tyrell seat for the past two days!"
That quickly made everyone shout in unison, banging their mugs filled with Arctican drink, since no one liked the southern drinks very much and the supplies brought aboard the ships were quite generous for such an extensive military campaign.
"Arctic!!" Ducken and Thor exclaimed at the same time.
"Arctic!" all the men shouted, banging their mugs before drinking.
"He... he conquered Highgarden?" Lord Staunton asked, looking shocked by what he had just heard.
"Our king decided to leave the Westerlands and head for Highgarden, it was a hard blow against the Reach," said Ducken.
The man continued staring at him in shock. "That... that's quite unexpected," he murmured. "And the army Tywin Lannister sent? I heard that his brother and even his eldest son were sent to the Westerlands because of the rumors that you would attack Casterly Rock."
"That's old news already. Casterly Rock had fallen before the army could even properly advance, but Kevan will never know that," said Thor, laughing.
Thor, Ducken, and the others already knew all the names of the main leaders and also the political intrigues of Westeros. After all, for a dwarf who spent most of the day thinking only about forging, having a basic knowledge of what was happening in the lands where he was fighting a war was the least that could be expected.
"Actually, the army itself has already been destroyed, Lord Staunton," said Ducken in a calm tone. "Kevan was captured, but Jaime Lannister is dead. My king will send him as a wedding gift to Tywin a day from now."
"I understand," said the man, as though he had finally realized that he had made the right decision. "But, if I'm being insistent... they said the king would also be in this war, but he's in Highgarden, how is it possible for him to get here?"
"Don't worry. Our king has already brought his dragon from Arctic," said Thor calmly.
"A dragon?!" the man exclaimed, startling everyone at the table, even other men, such as Aurane Waters, looked shocked by that statement, they had never mentioned it before.
"He really has a dragon?" asked a girl no older than twelve, Lord Staunton's daughter, breaking the silence, her face covered in freckles and her eyes filled with fascination at the idea of seeing a dragon.
She might not be Valyrian, but what child in Westeros wouldn't want to see one?
"Yes. I know some rumors came from the North saying that the king's dragon had been seen. I can tell you that those rumors were true," said Ducken with a smile.
"Papa, are we going to see a dragon?" she asked, while Lord Staunton grew a little nervous.
"I think so, my daughter," he replied, though somewhat uncertainly. He clearly did not want to see such a creature from too close. He could not even imagine what a dragon looked like, but he would certainly be terrified to see one face-to-face.
"Anyway, we'll soon be terrifying our enemies. We'll begin the march tomorrow and let every lord of the fortresses along the way see us and run to inform our enemy. We'll let them prepare a little. We won't be known for catching them by surprise. We'll attack head-on, because the king wants us to crush them at their best, so that Westeros recognizes it and puts it in their history books."
"We are around twenty thousand dwarves, three thousand giants, and sixty thousand men!" said Ducken loudly, with the entire hall roaring in response.
"Don't forget our king, who's coming with Eragon. When our enemies see us, they'll shit their pants!" said Thor, laughing.
The men shouted in approval, raising their mugs along with the others.
"I still can't believe they have a dragon," Lord Staunton murmured.
Some heard him and merely snorted at that, not understanding the meaning of such doubt. But there was an explicit order that Arctic's dragons were still to remain hidden.
Not that it would make any difference. Perhaps it was merely for amusement, so that their enemies would discover too late that they had never had any chance and that Arctic had not even been fighting them with its full strength.
That was only one of the four fronts Arctic had mobilized to the south, and one of the fronts was to leave ten thousand men to secure the fleet in Essos, while reaffirming all their trade agreements.
The war would end when Jon structured the Nine Kingdoms of the south, to make Westeros as a whole, known in the future as the Arctican Empire.
While Lord Staunton remained deeply impressed and terrified, in the kingdom of the North, it had been established weeks earlier, at Winterfell.
The Arctican army had finally reached its objective after devastating a large portion of the Bolton lands. Now, the Boltons were surrounded.
Lord Manderly and the others also sent reinforcements immediately. Several banners began to spread around Winterfell. The Mormonts, Umbers, Starks, Glovers, the Mountain Clans, Lockes, Manderlys, Reeds... Suddenly, the entire North seemed to be gathering.
When Lord Bolton saw the Arctican banners on that first day, alongside those of some of the lords of the North, he immediately grew tense. They did not attack. They merely set up camp before Winterfell, displaying their forces as they waited.
It was an army of 20 thousand men from Arctic alone...
And as two weeks passed, more and more lords joined the siege. There had been no negotiations so far, and the Boltons had not taken any initiative to send a messenger either.
They still had hostages. They had an Umber and a Manderly.
Young Cley Cerwyn also joined Arctic's forces, swearing allegiance to Bran Stark, as did Larence Snow, who was supposed to be the heir thanks to the Boltons' actions, because Hornwood had no family left. The Houses south of Winterfell had suffered greatly and were filled with anger and resentment toward the Boltons.
Lord Bolton found himself surrounded. As if those animals and Jon Arctic's threat had not been enough, now the Arcticans themselves, together with the Houses of the North, had arrived to help in the name of Bran Stark, who could walk, to the surprise of many who still did not know about his recovery. Everyone had been certain that he would remain crippled for the rest of his life due to the fall that had taken away the use of his legs.
With the last arrivals, everyone gathered to decide.
"Everyone has arrived. I believe we should waste no more time. You know why we're here. Our enemy is a traitor, has hostages, and somehow is trying to buy time for possible aid from the south. But I must tell you that such aid will never come, because the group of men Tywin sent has already been annihilated by Arctic's forces." Bran began.
"Three battlefronts, my lords," said Lord Manderly, rising with some effort. "I hear the king himself is fighting in the Westerlands, a force has established itself on Dragonstone and will lay siege to King's Landing, and we are here, fighting as well, with another twenty thousand men ready to drive the Boltons out of Winterfell!"
By that point, all the Northerners were more or less familiar with how Arctic operated, with its army, its divisions, and even the political structure that had been created in that kingdom. And certainly everyone knew that Bran had knelt before his cousin.
All those lords there would also be kneeling, even though many had supported Robb. The entire North was now returning to Jon Arctic. All the Northerners looked on with a certain admiration at Lord Manderly's words, except for the Arcticans, of course.
To think that kingdom, which had been absent for a year, had suddenly returned and was fighting on three fronts at the same time without stopping was madness, to say the least. It was unprecedented. A force they had all been hiding. In soldiers alone, they had sent around one hundred and twenty thousand, an army that surpassed even the forces of the Reach itself.
One hundred and twenty thousand warriors!
And to think that a force of that size had been created north of the Wall made the lords wonder more and more about how they had built such an army and about the war they had fought, one that had caused them to be absent for an entire year.
"Lord Manderly is right. The king and his army have just faced the Lannisters in the territory of the Reach, winning and losing only a small number of men, while Jaime Lannister was killed," said Bran.
Several people clapped and roared with joy. Jaime being dead at that moment would be celebrated almost as much as Roose Bolton's severed head.
"And don't forget that the Freys were also annihilated! The king blew up the Twins at the Crossing and put an end to Walder Frey's entire legacy!"
More shouts were heard throughout the tent from the Northerners.
The North hated the Lannisters. Hated the Freys. Hated the Boltons.
"Anyway, I believe the time has come. While Jon is advancing through the Reach, he is also already negotiating for the army of eighty thousand men to advance from the islands and establish itself on the mainland. The plan is to launch a surprise attack against the Tyrells and the Lannisters. We have to do our part here. That's why tomorrow we'll begin dealing with Winterfell," said Bran, while the men nodded.
Bran was a little nervous, but spoke clearly, still trying to get used to his new position, even though he had already held it for an entire moon.
"For Bran of Winterfell! For the Starks and the King of Arctic!" shouted little Lyanna Mormont. Who made a point of spreading the word about the king saving her island.
"For the North! For Arctic! For the Starks! For the king!" the men shouted.
Brynden merely remained silent, listening to the men shout. Finally, the North was beginning to establish itself as part of Arctic, accepting Jon as king, even though, at times, they had had a complicated relationship with him.
Although Jon had been sent away from Winterfell, still as a little boy of eight namedays, going to the Wall, he had soon become a young hero of the North. The situation became even more complicated when Arya went to Arctic, with Lady Stark claiming that she had been kidnapped, and the North did not like that, but everyone had to fall silent as the years passed, the stories arrived, and the truth began to emerge.
Even so, Brynden knew that they still had not managed to fully accept him the first time. But then came the destruction of the North, and it was Jon who appeared to help them when they were being ruled by a traitor and the Ironborn were reaching their very doors. The North no longer had any choice but to accept it wholeheartedly.
The next day, the first messenger after weeks of standing before Winterfell finally left the camp, signaling that they wanted to have a conversation. The Boltons also agreed, and the meeting would take place between the two forces.
Bran, Brynden, two Arctican royal guards in their Valyrian steel armor, and several other lords of the North, such as Lady Alys Karstark, Lady Lyanna Mormont, Lord Manderly, and Robett Glover, approached the Boltons, who came with Roose, his son, and several other men.
Most of the men of the North wore coats and cloaks, while the only ones there who looked different were the royal guards themselves, as always wearing their gleaming armor. They did not seem bothered by the cold in the slightest.
"Lord Bolton," Bran said coldly.
That was the man who had betrayed his brother. Robb might have been right or wrong in the choices he had made, but that was still a betrayal.
"Lord Stark. I see you've knelt to the king of the wildlings..." Bolton mocked.
"Says the man who betrayed his king and knelt to the Lannisters," Brynden Rivers said mockingly.
Bolton stared at him coldly, but Bloodraven kept his gaze steady, not bothered in the slightest by the man's coldness.
"I don't know who you are. Could you tell me your name?" Bolton asked, turning to Brynden.
He clearly seemed to be someone as important as Bran, perhaps even more so. A royal guard stood at his side, unlike the other lords of the North, and the symbol of Arctic, along with a Valyrian steel sword and clothes more refined than those of anyone else there, already said much about his status.
"I am Brynden Rivers, also known as Bloodraven, former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and now Minister of Communications of Arctic," he said, preferring not to mention Minister of Espionage or Whispers, as that position would be known in Westeros.
"Minister?" Bolton mocked, not knowing exactly what that meant. "But a former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch? This kingdom you claim to be so proud of, called Arctic, simply accepts oathbreakers? And as far as I know, you should be dead," he said, more cautiously at the end.
"Look who's talking," said Lady Mormont, spitting on the ground.
"She's right. For someone who just betrayed his liege lord, you certainly have the nerve to say those words, that's hypocrisy, Lord Bolton," Bran said with disdain.
"I don't think we should waste much time here, Bran. This man certainly likes judging others after doing the same thing himself. It's strange. He's only trying to play some mind game here. It's disgusting," said Brynden.
"All right, Lord Bolton," Bran spoke again. "You have important prisoners inside the castle. If you hand them over unharmed, we'll give you an honorable death. Otherwise... well, we'll have to deal with you one way or another," Bran said with the same hateful tone.
"You speak a little differently from your father," said Roose.
"What are you trying to do here, Bolton? You're dead. Your son is dead. You're all dead. You have no forces. If you're waiting for some force from the south, I should inform you that it should have arrived a long time ago, don't you think? Communications with the south ended a long time ago... But don't worry, it has already been intercepted, and at this very moment, another force is preparing to destroy the Lannister army in the capital. We're going to conquer Winterfell one way or another," Bran said angrily. He looked at Brynden, who merely nodded.
"You have until midnight, until the Hour of the Wolf, to release the prisoners and open the gates for us to pass through. Otherwise, you will pay."
With that, Bran turned around and Brynden followed along with the lords of the North, who merely cast looks of disdain at the Boltons. Even Ramsay, who normally liked to talk, remained silent, merely watching the entire exchange of words.
"Let's go back," said Roose Bolton.
They returned to the castle. When the Hour of the Wolf arrived, no gate was opened. No man appeared to signal a surrender.
"All right, then. Since they asked for it..." said Brynden beside Bran, who nodded.
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