Chapter 48 – "Lions Fury"
The smoke from the trial still lingered in the air above King's Landing, curling through the streets like a spirit refusing to pass on. But it was not just the air that remained tense—it was the realm itself. The Bloody Wolf, they called him now. Cregan Stark. The man who butchered the Mountain in front of thousands, who invoked ancient Northern rites and left a corpse in his wake.
The city buzzed with whispers. Merchants shuttered their stalls early. Goldcloaks sharpened their blades twice over. Noble houses locked their gates.
And in the Red Keep, decisions were being made that would ripple across the Seven Kingdoms.
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The Fallout – The Capital in Shock
The trial by combat had ended, but its echoes had only begun to ring. The Dragonpit had not seen blood in a century, and now it had seen a river of it.
The people were awestruck.
"Did you see him call to the Old Gods?"
"He howled like a beast. The Mountain screamed like a child."
"They say he bathed in blood like the Kings of Winter once did."
From Flea Bottom to the Great Sept, the name Cregan Stark was spoken with awe, fear, and reverence. The chant "Bloody Wolf!" now echoed in taverns, markets, even noble courtyards.
But not all were impressed.
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The Lion's Fury
In a private chamber in the Red Keep, Tywin Lannister stood in silence as his maester cleaned blood from his hands. The cut had come from his fist breaking a glass.
"This cannot stand," he said, voice low and hard. "He mocked my house. He slaughtered my knight. He challenged my legacy."
Kevan Lannister stood nearby, silent.
Cersei paced. "He made fools of us. In front of the realm. Even the Tyrell girl was laughing."
Tywin finally turned. "We will act. If the North remains in King's Landing, we pull Lannister gold. The Iron Bank is already breathing down the crown's neck. Let's see how long Robert's reign lasts without my coffers."
Kevan added, "We'll spin it. Say the wolf broke law and peace. Demand exile."
Tywin nodded. "The North leaves—or the realm starves."
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The Council Divides
The next day, the Small Council gathered. Tension curled like smoke around them.
"I'll not see another man ripped in half in my city," Robert muttered into his goblet. "It was... madness."
Jon Arryn was calm but exhausted. "We must end this. Tywin's terms are clear. If we want the treasury flowing, the North must go."
Renly smirked. "We're throwing a feast for the man who did what the realm could not: kill that monster."
Stannis's jaw tightened. "I care not for feasts. The law was honored. Trial by combat is sacred. If the Lannisters cannot accept loss, that's not the North's fault."
Pycelle wheezed, "But if Lord Tywin withdraws his loans..."
Robert growled. "Fine. They leave. Send Cregan and the Northerners home."
Jon Arryn hesitated. "What message does that send?"
"The only one that matters," Robert said bitterly. "That the realm survives. Even if honor doesn't."
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Northern Pride
Outside the city, in North's temporary camp, the North celebrated.
Greatjon Umber raised his mug. "To the Bloody Wolf!"
"To Cregan!" the men roared.
Roasted meat sizzled on spits, mead flowed like rivers, and tales grew taller by the hour.
"He swung that black axe like a god!"
"I swear, the Mountain wept!"
"He was chanting in the old tongue! Called the gods right into the pit!"
But inside the main tent, the mood was quieter. Robb Stark, Jon Snow, and Ned sat around a table.
"They want us gone," Ned said softly.
Robb frowned. "After what he did for Lyanna? For honor?"
Jon grunted. "They fear us now. That's why they want us gone."
Ned exhaled. "Good. Let them. We were never meant to linger here. Let the South play their games. The North remembers."
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Varys Watches
From the shadows of the Red Keep, Varys observed everything. Spiders whispered in every hall.
"Cregan Stark... a man of savagery and vision. Dangerous," he murmured to himself.
"Perhaps too dangerous."
He wrote letters that night—to Essos, to the Vale, to unnamed agents.
The realm was changing.
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The Decision Delivered
Jon Arryn met with Ned Stark that evening.
"Robert's command is final. Cregan will not be punished. But the North must return. Tonight if possible."
Ned nodded. "So be it. The South has shown its truth."
Jon hesitated. "He made enemies today. Tywin will not forget. Cersei least of all."
"I don't expect them to."
Jon touched Ned's shoulder. "Take him home. Before the realm bleeds again."
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Cregan's Farewell
Cregan stood outside the Red Keep, Shadow beside him, still stained with blood.
He looked to the sky.
"I fought for her," he whispered. "For the pack. For the North."
Robb and Jon joined him.
"We go home," Jon said.
Robb clapped his shoulder. "Let them remember who we are."
As the North marched out of the city, the gates of King's Landing shut behind them.
But the echo of the Bloody Wolf's howl would haunt the capital for a long time.
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Final Reflections
Tywin Lannister sat brooding in his study. "We lost this battle... not the war."
Cersei stared into a mirror. "One day, that wolf's head will hang on a wall."
Robert drank, silent. The crown felt heavier.
Jon Arryn sighed, penning a letter to the Vale. "Winter is closer than we think."
In the North, snow began to fall.
And somewhere beyond the Wall, something ancient stirred.
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