Chapter 5: The Kraken's Jest
The war council convened at dawn in Robb's pavilion, where banners of the great northern houses hung like battle standards in the still morning air. I positioned myself near the entrance with the other servants, close enough to observe but invisible enough to be forgotten—a skill I'd perfected during my weeks with the army.
Robb Stark sat at the head of a rough wooden table, Grey Wind beside his chair like a living piece of winter. At sixteen, he already carried himself like a king, but the weight of crown and war was etching lines around his eyes that shouldn't have been there for another decade.
The assembled lords represented the power of the North: Greatjon Umber, massive and boisterous even in the early morning; Rickard Karstark, grim-faced and hungry for vengeance; Roose Bolton, pale as milk and twice as cold, watching everything with those colorless eyes.
And Theon Greyjoy, fresh from his disastrous visit to Winterfell, trying to project confidence despite the mockingbird incident that had shattered his credibility.
"The Ironborn will join our cause," Theon was saying, his voice carrying the forced bravado of someone trying to convince himself as much as his audience. "My father understands the strategic value of our alliance. Ships, men, raiding—"
That's when my first mockingbird decided to contribute to the discussion.
"Easy Northern girls!" the bird squawked from its perch near the pavilion's peak. "That's what Theon always said!"
The reaction was immediate and devastating. Greatjon Umber's laughter boomed across the tent like thunder, while Rickard Karstark's already sour expression curdled into disgust. Catelyn Stark, seated at Robb's right hand, fixed Theon with a stare that could have frozen the Blackwater.
"What—" Theon began, his face flushing red.
"My father will make me a prince of salt and iron!" added the second bird, perfectly mimicking Theon's own voice and inflection.
The silence that followed was deafening. Every eye in the tent focused on Theon, who looked like he wanted to sink through the ground. These weren't random phrases—they were his own words, spoken in private moments when he thought no one was listening.
"Theon," Robb said quietly, his voice carrying the kind of controlled anger that was more dangerous than shouting. "What exactly have you been saying about our people?"
"I... that is, soldiers talk, Your Grace. Sometimes we..." Theon fumbled for words, but the damage was already done.
The third mockingbird delivered the killing blow: "The Starks are fools to trust Ironborn promises!"
Now even Grey Wind was growling, the direwolf sensing his master's anger. Catelyn's hand had moved to rest on the table, her knuckles white with tension.
"Get that creature out of here," Roose Bolton said softly, his whisper somehow cutting through the tension like a blade. "And perhaps young Greyjoy should explain these... revelations."
But I was already moving, playing my role as a concerned servant. "My lords, forgive me. The new birds must have picked up tavern talk. They repeat anything they hear."
I carefully coaxed the mockingbirds down from their perches, making a show of scolding them while actually praising their perfect timing. As I moved toward the exit, I caught Roose Bolton's pale eyes following my movements with interest.
That was concerning. The Leech Lord was too observant by half.
"Perhaps," Catelyn said coldly, "we should discuss the reliability of Ironborn alliances. In private."
The dismissal was clear. Theon tried to maintain his dignity as he left the council, but his swagger had been replaced by barely concealed humiliation. The mockingbirds had accomplished exactly what I'd intended—destroying any trust the northern lords might have had in Greyjoy promises.
[Mockingbird Prank: Critical Success]
[Theon Credibility: Destroyed]
[Northern Lords' Trust in Ironborn: -85%]
[Robb's Suspicion of Theon Motives: +75%]
[Warning: Roose Bolton Attention +25%]
I slipped away from the pavilion as the lords began discussing strategy without their compromised ally. But I had more important work to do—work that would shape the course of the war itself.
The documents I'd prepared had taken weeks to perfect. Maps drawn with a steady hand, battle plans written in the style of northern strategists, intelligence reports that accounted for betrayals that hadn't happened yet. All of it based on knowledge I shouldn't have possessed—knowledge that could save thousands of lives if deployed correctly.
I made my way to Robb's personal tent, where the young king would rest after the morning's council session. The guards knew me as a trusted servant, one who cleaned and organized without asking questions or gossiping about what he overheard.
The tent was spacious but spartanly furnished—a field bed, a desk covered with maps and dispatches, personal effects that spoke of a young man trying to bear responsibilities too large for his shoulders. I moved quickly, placing my carefully prepared documents where they would be discovered naturally.
The first was a detailed analysis of western campaign strategies, complete with annotations about terrain advantages and supply line vulnerabilities. But the real value lay in the warnings woven throughout the text:
"Trust carefully given to iron and salt—the sea takes back what it has given."
"The Freys count coins, not honor. Bargains made in desperation oft prove costly."
"Watch the quiet ones. Still waters run deep, and winter's child serves no master but his own ambition."
The last was aimed directly at Roose Bolton, though written subtly enough to seem like general military wisdom rather than specific accusations.
[Strategic Intelligence: Planted Successfully]
[Document Quality: Master-Level Forgery]
[Content Value: Prevents Multiple Future Catastrophes]
[Warning System: Subtle but Comprehensive]
The second document was even more crucial—detailed maps showing potential Ironborn assault routes that included Winterfell, Torrhen's Square, and other northern strongholds. Routes that Theon would "suggest" to his father, but which were now documented as security concerns that needed to be addressed.
I placed both documents carefully among the legitimate papers on Robb's desk, making them look like intelligence reports that had been delivered while he was in council. By the time he returned, he'd find comprehensive strategic guidance that would help him navigate the treacheries ahead.
But as I prepared to leave, I heard footsteps approaching. Too heavy to be Robb, too measured to be a common soldier.
"Interesting work," Roose Bolton's whisper filled the tent like a winter wind.
I turned slowly, maintaining the posture of a servant caught where he shouldn't be. Bolton stood in the tent's entrance, blocking my exit, his pale eyes studying me with the intensity of a hunter examining tracks.
"My lord," I said, keeping my voice humble and nervous. "I was just... organizing His Grace's papers. The wind scattered them, and I thought..."
"You thought," Bolton repeated, stepping closer. "Yes, I imagine you think quite a lot. More than a servant should, perhaps."
He moved to the desk, examining the documents I'd placed there. His fingers traced the edges of the maps, and I could see him noting the quality of the parchment, the precision of the drawings.
"Remarkable intelligence," he murmured. "Almost as if someone had perfect knowledge of Ironborn tactics. Someone who understood the political implications of every alliance and betrayal."
My heart hammered against my ribs, but I kept my expression carefully blank. Bolton was probing, testing to see how I'd react to pressure.
"I wouldn't know, my lord. I just clean and organize."
"Of course you do." Bolton's smile was like winter moonlight on a corpse. "Tell me, servant... do you ever notice patterns? Strange coincidences? Events that seem almost... orchestrated?"
The question hung in the air like a blade waiting to fall. Bolton knew. Maybe not everything, but he knew something was wrong, someone was pulling strings behind the scenes.
"I'm just a servant, my lord," I repeated. "I notice dust and dirty clothes, nothing more."
Bolton studied me for another long moment, then nodded slowly. "Indeed. A servant who cleans very... thoroughly. I shall have to assign some of my own men to assist you. For your protection, of course. The camp can be dangerous for someone who notices so little."
The threat was clear. I was now under surveillance by the most dangerous man in Robb's army. The man who would one day orchestrate the Red Wedding, who was already planning betrayals while smiling at his king's war councils.
"That's very kind, my lord."
"I am nothing if not kind," Bolton said, his whisper carrying undertones that made my skin crawl. "We'll speak again soon. I have such an interest in... unusual servants."
He glided out of the tent like a pale shadow, leaving me alone with the knowledge that my most dangerous enemy had just declared himself. Bolton was suspicious, but he couldn't prove anything yet. That gave me time—time to prepare for a different kind of war than the one Robb was fighting.
[Major Threat Identified: Roose Bolton]
[Surveillance Level: High]
[Counter-Intelligence Required: Critical]
[Mission Complexity: Significantly Increased]
I finished placing the documents and slipped out of the tent, my mind already working on contingency plans. Bolton's suspicion was dangerous, but it also presented an opportunity. If I could feed him false information, lead him to wrong conclusions, I might be able to neutralize his threat while building Robb's defenses.
The war had just become personal.
As I made my way back through the camp, I passed groups of soldiers preparing for the march south. They would face Tywin Lannister's forces within days, fight battles that would determine the fate of the North. Many would die, but fewer than in the original timeline—if my plans worked.
Because now Robb had intelligence that would help him avoid the worst traps. Maps that showed him where enemies might strike. Warnings about allies who couldn't be trusted.
And most importantly, he had evidence that someone was watching out for him. Someone who understood the game being played and was working to tip the scales in the North's favor.
+1 CHAPTER AFTER EVERY 3 REVIEWS
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
To supporting Me in Pateron .
Love [ In Game Of Thrones With Avatar System ]? Unlock More Chapters and Support the Story!
Dive deeper into the world of [ In Game Of Thrones With Avatar System ] with exclusive access to 25+ chapters on my Patreon, you get more chapters if you ask for more (in few days), plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $5/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes like [ Game Of Throne ,MCU and Arrowverse, Breaking Bad , The Walking dead ,The Hobbit,Wednesday].
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
👉 Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!