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Chapter 43 – "Even the quiet wolf loses his shit"
The wind over King's Landing turned heavy and still, as though the very air held its breath.
To the west, a thunder of banners and armor rolled toward the city—ten thousand strong. The Lannister host had arrived, a sea of crimson and gold glinting beneath the summer sun. At its head rode Lord Tywin Lannister, grim and severe atop his golden destrier. At his side, Ser Kevan, Ser Addam Marbrand, and Lords Lefford, Brax, and Payne carried their house banners high.
To the North, another tide came—smaller, quieter, but colder. Six thousand five hundred Northern men marched under grey cloaks, black leather, and furs. Their faces were solemn, their steps steady. At the front rode Eddard Stark, flanked by his sons Robb and Jon Snow. With them were Lords Karstark, Glover, Manderly, Tallhart, and the great bear of a man, Greatjon Umber.
The gates of King's Landing did not open wide for either army. They stopped just beyond the city walls. Only their chosen representatives, with honor guards and bannermen, passed into the capital. Yet their presence alone made the city tremble.
Merchants shuttered shops. Noble houses locked gates. The Goldcloaks tripled their presence. Everyone—from beggar to noble—whispered of war.
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The Small Council: A Hall of Blades in Sheaths
Inside the Small Council chamber, silence was sharp as a drawn sword.
Tywin Lannister sat in a throne-like chair of crimson leather, flanked by Kevan and Marbrand. His cold eyes swept across the room like a sword judging necks. His voice, when it came, was devoid of warmth.
"Thirty-seven men dead. One of them Ser Tybalt Lannister. My blood. My kin. Killed like dogs in the capital. I do not come here to parley. I come for justice."
Across from him, Lord Eddard Stark sat in quiet fury. Robb Stark leaned forward, fists clenched. Jon Snow stood behind them, unreadable.
Tywin continued. "I demand recompense. A trial, open to the realm. The execution of Cregan Stark for murder. His Valyrian steel surrendered to House Lannister. One million gold dragons for blood payment. And the direwolf's head."
The words rang through the chamber like a war horn.
Robb's voice broke the silence first. "You come to demand heads, after your prince tried to steal a little girl's blade and had her attacked by grown men?"
Kevan Lannister growled, "Watch your tongue, boy."
Robb stood. "Your men laid hands on my daughter. They bled because they forgot what a wolf is."
Tywin's gaze shifted to Ned. "Control your son, Stark. Or I will."
Eddard's eyes darkened. "My son speaks the truth. Joffrey raised his hand to Lyanna. My son defended her. The wolf defended her. Would you do less for your blood?"
Tywin's lips barely moved. "Your wolf spilled noble blood. Cregan slaughtered trained guards. He must pay."
The room simmered. Ser Barristan, seated near the door, shifted uncomfortably. Varys blinked, saying nothing. Grand Maester Pycelle coughed and mumbled something about ancient laws.
Then Jon Arryn rose.
"Let the King speak."
Robert Baratheon, red-faced and bleary from wine, growled, "I will not have a war start in my own fucking hall."
The tension still simmered.
Jon Arryn spoke, calm but forceful. "Your Grace. A private meeting. First with Lord Tywin. Then with Lord Stark. Let us not fuel the fire in open air."
Robert nodded. "Aye. Guards, clear the chamber. Tywin stays."
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Tywin's Chamber – The First Bargain
In private, the air felt tighter.
Jon Arryn opened first. "Lord Tywin, we must compromise. The realm stands on edge. The Reach watches. The Martells still burn with old grudges."
Tywin's voice remained calm. "Let them burn. My men were killed in the capital. I am owed justice."
Robert slammed his goblet on the table. "Enough! Do you think I enjoy this? That I enjoy watching you and Ned spit fire while the realm teeters?"
Tywin was unmoved. "Then act like a king."
Jon raised a hand before Robert could explode. "Lord Tywin. No one denies your loss. But justice must not tear the Seven Kingdoms apart."
After a long silence, Tywin exhaled through his nose.
"Then I propose this: His sword hand. His Valyrian steel is surrendered. One million dragons paid to House Lannister. The wolf dies. All done publicly—to show the realm that wolves cannot defy lions with impunity."
Robert looked to Jon Arryn, eyes hard. "This isn't viable."
"I keep this realm running," Tywin said flatly.
Jon Arryn sighed. "We will speak to Lord Stark."
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The Wolf's Fury – Stark's Meeting
When Eddard Stark entered the room, Robert did not speak. He couldn't meet Ned's eyes.
Ned stood still. "So. You want to maim my son, kill our wolf, and buy his blood like meat in a market?"
Jon Arryn tried to soften it. "It is the only path short of war."
Ned's eyes turned icy. "Last time a Stark girl was hurt in King's Landing, your city burned. Last time a Stark died unjustly, we broke the Targaryen line. You owe your throne to the North. And now, for what? Because Joffrey cried and Cregan did his duty?"
Robert looked up, face shadowed with guilt. "Ned… this isn't about loyalty. It's about the realm."
"It's always about the realm," Ned said bitterly. "And it's never about justice."
"I don't accept this bullshit, maiming my son for protecting his pack and blood," Ned snapped before storming out.
A long pause followed.
Jon Arryn spoke quietly. "If Cregan takes the black voluntarily, there is no shame. He keeps his honor. The North remains untouched. Lyanna is safe."
Robert was silent. Then he looked to Jon.
"Negotiate with Tywin," he said.
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Later that evening, Jon Arryn met with Tywin again in private. "We can still give you a form of justice. What if Cregan Stark takes the black voluntarily? There would be no trial, no spectacle, but he's removed from the game. The sword and the gold will be yours."
Tywin narrowed his eyes. "And the wolf?"
"The wolf stays," Jon said firmly. "That's not negotiable."
Tywin hesitated. "You'll keep this from Ned?"
Jon nodded reluctantly. "If it's what it takes to stop a war."
Tywin considered. Then slowly, he inclined his head. "Then do it. But I want the gold and the sword before the boy crosses the Wall."
Realm-Wide Reactions
In the Reach, Mace Tyrell chuckled when he heard the news. "Lions and wolves at each other's throats? Let them bleed. We'll feed the survivors."
In Sunspear, Prince Doran Martell read the raven and said nothing. But Oberyn paced the room like a coiled snake. "So the North shows teeth again. About time. I hope they draw blood."
In Riverrun, Lord Hoster Tully closed his eyes. "My daughter's boy… to the Wall for defending a child?"
In the Stormlands, Lord Renly smiled wryly. "King's Landing always did have a flair for theatrics."
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Tension in the City
The people of King's Landing gossiped in hushed tones.
"The North won't accept it. They never forget."
"The lion's justice… always comes in gold."
"I saw the wolf! Big as a horse, they say!"
"They'll hang the Stark lad."
"No… they say he'll be sent North again. With black on his back."
"And the girl?"
"Safe… for now."
The Goldcloaks doubled their patrols. City Watch banners still hung beside the Stark sigil. But now, every sword in the city was drawn in silence.
The wolves had arrived.
The lions had roared.
And all of Westeros waited to see who would strike first.
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