Stannon closed the scroll, as his mind was full of thoughts regarding the changes that he was going to do to his upcoming plans.
He knew this was bad — but it still didn't affect the whole picture he had painted. Moreover he could also turn this into an opportunity only if Littlefinger and Lannisters were not behind all this. He just hoped that this was not their motive to reduce the power of the Warden of the North or outright change the man who held the position.
As the weight of this news settled on his shoulders, his mind drifted back to his previous life where he had watched the entire show too many times.
According to the show, the Greyjoys had rebelled almost eight or nine years before the big war that tore Westeros apart. Balon Greyjoy had made himself King and led his Ironborn to attack the Reach and the Westerlands, burning villages and killing people. It had taken Robert, Ned, and the others months of bloody fighting to crush them. Many good men had died. Winterfell had mourned with black banners hanging in its halls. The Iron Islands had been defeated, but at a great cost.
But this world was different.
Because Stannon had not stayed silent while he was living in Ned's castle.
Stannon had told him in the form of the visions he got, of the rebellion that would come. About Balon's dreams of becoming king, about secret shipbuilding, about the loss of men. He spoke calmly, like someone who had seen it all happen before.
And of course they had to beleive him, afterall this wasn't the first time his visions had came true. Still not to leave any loose ends, they sent spies, watched closely, and waited. And sure enough, the signs appeared — hidden shipbuilding, quiet alliances, rumors across the sea.
When they found the proofs, they acted without hesitation.
The fleets of the Crown, the Reach, and the Westerlands attacked the Iron Islands before Balon Greyjoy could even raise his banners. Castles burned. Ships were seized before they could sail. And Theon Greyjoy, Balon's son, was captured at Pyke while still a boy.
It wasn't bloodless, but it was fast and far less resource consuming than before. The Ironborn's will was broken before it could grow strong.
Stannon remembered the day Theon arrived in Winterfell — small, angry, confused. A boy forced to live among his enemies to keep the peace. Ned had called it a necessary cruelty. Stannon had agreed.
It worked. For years, the Iron Islands stayed quiet.
Until now.
Stannon wondered what had changed. Was it because of the instability of the crown? Or was it because the Boltona had agreed to help them? Or was there someone else behind all this?
Whatever the reason might be, he couldn't help North as of now. Ned would have to solve his own problems and until Stannon takes back the crown, he wouldn't be able to spare the manpower.
"Go get some rest," Stannon said, his voice steady to both Rangok and Hilda, who had their own emotional up and downs.
Ragnok although hesitated, but didn't argue and left the training ground while Hilda remained looking at Stannon with concern.
"You've been pushing yourself too hard," Hilda said softly before leaving. "Rest while you can. Tomorrow's journey will be long, and you'll need all the energy you can get."
Stannon smiled faintly. "I will. A good night's sleep will do wonders for me. We need to be ready for tomorrow."
With that, Stannon left after her and made his way through the quiet corridors of the modest house of Boggs. He needed solitude, a moment to clear his head before the long journey ahead. Tomorrow would be exhausting — days on the road, nonstop traveling, trying to reach their destination as early as possible. The journey would be long and tiring, and he needed to be sharp and alert. He couldn't afford to be distracted.
When Stannon reached his chambers, he entered and closed the door behind him. His room was dimly lit, with the moonlight entering through the heavy curtains. His bed looked inviting, but he wasn't ready to rest just yet. Instead, he stood by the window, looking out at the moon.
His thoughts drifted back to the North, to the Ironborn, and to the many unknowns he still had to deal with. But for now, he knew he couldn't keep his mind there. He needed to rest. He needed to sleep.
Finally, he turned away from the window and approached the bed, removing his cloak and boots. Just as he was about to lie down, he noticed something was off. He felt sweaty, the heat of the day still on him, and his body ached from the long hours of planning, training and thinking. He knew sleep wouldn't come easily unless he dealt with this discomfort.
He thought for a moment before making a decision. "I need a bath," he muttered. A bath would relax him and help ease the tension in his body. It had been a while since he'd taken a cool and refreshing one, and tonight seemed like the perfect time.
He ordered the guard outside his door to do the necessary and in no time a servant came to his room and guided him to the bathhouse.
After the servant left he undressed himself and slowly stepped into the bath, feeling the cool water surround him. He sank deeper into the tub, letting the water calm him.
Slowly, his mind began to clear, and for the first time in hours, he was able to focus on something other than his responsibilities. As he relaxed in the cool water, he remembered something he had been putting off for a few days: his system. He had earned points over time but hadn't decided how to use them. Now, with the threat of war growing and uncertainty all around him, he realized he needed every advantage he could get. It was time to upgrade his system.
Without hesitation, he used the points to improve the system's abilities. The interface in his mind responded right away, processing his request.
A system notification appeared in front of him:
[System upgrade successful. New functions unlocked]
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