[Chapter Size: 1200 Words.]
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A month passed in the blink of an eye.
The Red Wedding arrived as planned, and the Young Wolf truly became the Young Wolf, because his direwolf Grey Wind's head had been hacked off and sewn onto his own body.
"We've won, Sansa! Where is Sansa? I want to share this good news with her, and I'll have Lord Frey bring me Stark's head!" Joffrey exclaimed excitedly. "I want to present it to Sansa at my wedding!"
"No!" Tyrion snapped, glaring at him. "Don't you dare torment her!" He unleashed his sharp tongue, scolding Joffrey harshly.
But Joffrey now found himself in a different position. He had his "trusted general and beloved commander," Theon Greyjoy, securing the North, and the powerful House Tyrell bound to him in the South.
"I am the king! I can do whatever I want! I'll punish you for this!" Joffrey shouted.
"Anyone who must loudly proclaim that he is the king is no true king," Tywin interjected coldly. "When I have won this war in full, I will teach you that lesson."
Joffrey could not contain his fury at Tywin's lecture. "My father won the war for real! He killed Rhaegar Targaryen and took the crown! And you, you hid at Casterly Rock, too frightened to march out!"
The council chamber fell into stunned silence. Even Tyrion stared at Joffrey in disbelief.
Having spoken, Joffrey instantly felt a pang of regret. Tywin commanded at least fifty thousand soldiers, and King's Landing itself was under his control.
"The king is tired. Take him back to his chambers to rest," Tywin said calmly to Cersei.
Cersei smiled at once and hurried Joffrey away.
At the following council, Tywin fulfilled his promises. Roose Bolton was named Warden of the North, raising House Bolton rank as they had desired.
House Frey, despite breaking sacred guest rights, was granted guardianship over the Riverlands. Tywin further awarded them the eastern half of the Riverlands as their domain.
"Yes, Your Grace," Theon's maester reported. "Tywin has sent word that the Riverlands are to be divided in two, and we must seize whatever portion we can."
Hearing this, Theon's face went blank, but the twitch at the corner of his eye betrayed the storm beneath his calm mask.
After a long silence, Theon spoke slowly: "So Tywin truly believes I am a toothless squid washed ashore. Tell Ulmar and Amice to muster the troops."
At his words, the maester immediately withdrew to deliver the order. Truthfully, serving at Theon's side was unnerving, especially when his anger flared, for the elusive golden element around him could sear skin like fire.
Soon, the First Iron-Salt Army gathered in the open yard at Riverrun. Standing upon a raised platform, Theon looked down at his four thousand elite soldiers, swelling with pride.
With a howl, his pure white armor shifted from spirit to steel. Channeling the golden element, Theon's voice thundered across the entire training ground.
"Men, we have lost the Riverlands again! I have received word from King's Landing: the Riverlands, rightfully ours, are being divided and handed to a petty toll-collector who grew rich from bridges!"
"This is unacceptable to me! I do not wish for war. I do not want to see my men or soldiers fall on the battlefield. I do not wish to see children and women left without the fathers and husbands they depend upon!"
"But they think me a coward! If they refuse me the Fingers Peninsula, I might endure it. If they deny me the Crab Claw Peninsula, I might still endure it. But now they deny us the Riverlands entirely! And the Riverlands, we must have!"
"With the Riverlands, we can grow our own food. No family will starve, and none will face the Long Night in fear again! We must reclaim what is ours! We must reclaim what is ours! We, need war!"
When Theon finished speaking, his warriors roared so loudly it shook the sky and earth: "War!"
Theon drew his sword high. "What is dead may never die!"
"What is dead may never die!" the army thundered back.
With his pre-war mobilization complete, Theon marched at the head of his forces, leaving Yara to hold Riverrun.
Four thousand men was neither an overwhelming number nor a meager one. Yet four thousand elite soldiers far outmatched the levies that made up most armies in Westeros.
Theon led them upriver along the Red Fork, pressing on toward Stone Hedge.
The City, once a proud stronghold of the Trident, had long since fallen into decline. Now it lay in ruins, with only a minor lord still clinging to it.
The entire garrison numbered only a few hundred. The Lord of Stone Hedge had no intention of resisting; he opened the gates at once and surrendered.
Though his house was small, it was shrewdly informed. The news that King's Landing had commanded the Greyjoys and Freys to carve up the Riverlands had already spread among the nobility.
When Farsid saw the Greyjoy host with his own eyes, his mind began to race.
He had always been a man of sharp instinct. When House Tully had first called its vassals to war, he had harvested his grain early, before it fully ripened, and gathered his people near Desolation Hold.
The wisdom of that decision soon became clear. The armies of the West and North ravaged the Riverlands, and had he delayed, his house would have suffered ruinous losses.
"Your Grace, your host is truly awe-inspiring." Farsid bent his knee. "Grant me the honor of following you!"
Theon was taken aback to see a Riverlands noble kneel so eagerly. It seemed loyalty to House Tully was not as deep as expected.
He unsheathed Kraken's Edge, resting the blade upon Farsid's shoulder, and accepted his oath of fealty.
Still, Theon revealed nothing of his new reforms to Farsid. In his vision, both the Wasteland City and Seaguard would become the centers of his transformation.
Theon did not linger. He pressed northward with his host, while Farsid dispatched his illegitimate son to follow with three hundred men.
Farsid had no trueborn sons, only a daughter, but he did have a bastard boy, one he cherished deeply for his extraordinary gift with the sword. Farsid often boasted that the boy's skill might one day rival even Ser Barristan Selmy or Jaime Lannister.
"Lucifor, is it true your father claims you'll surpass Barristan the Bold and Jaime the Kingslayer one day?" Kazim asked curiously.
Kazim was about the same age as Lucifor. He had overheard Farsid boasting of his son's talent and had long wanted to test himself against him. But Lucifor was cold, aloof, and ignored him at every turn.
Fortunately for both, Kazim had spent half a month in confinement by Theon's orders and had learned some restraint. Otherwise, he might have already challenged Lucifor to a duel.
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