[Chapter Size: 1400 Words.]
---------------------------------------
After several attempts, a great number of soldiers began pouring through the Mud Gate.
Within moments, the space just inside the gate became a slaughterhouse. Stannis watched in shock as white-armored figures tore through the ranks.
He had no choice but to order his knights to surround Theon. Yet Theon's armor proved impervious to both sword and spear, and his sheer strength left Stannis powerless to do anything but glare.
Stannis resolved to destroy the enemy host first, then deal with the white-armored monster.
At that point, the weakness of the Gold Cloaks became plain. Half the men on the walls were raw recruits, faltering under Stannis's relentless assault.
If not for Tyrion's constant commands and quick decisions, the walls might already have been lost. The Gold Cloaks were, after all, little more than city guards, not a true army.
The Infantry Regiment, fighting for the first time, fared little better. Unused to war, they failed to respond swiftly to sudden changes on the field.
Just as the battle reached a stalemate and King's Landing seemed to be losing ground, a deep tremor shook the earth.
Feeling the rumble, Theon knew at once, Tywin was returning with his cavalry.
Sure enough, heavy horsemen poured in from Stannis's flank. The flat ground beyond the Mud Gate made perfect terrain for a charge.
Stannis watched bitterly as his forces were swept apart by Tywin's riders, driven forward by Davos and the last of his men. "While there is life, there is hope," the saying went, but hope was fading fast.
When the trumpets sounded the retreat, Stannis's army collapsed, scattered by the Westerlands cavalry.
Defeated, Stannis fled with the remnants of his force, leaving behind nothing but heaps of corpses.
Seeing Stannis broken, Theon immediately ordered his men to strip the battlefield, collecting every weapon and scrap of supply.
In the chaos, Tyrion was struck across the face. Had the Hound not intervened, he might well have been cleaved in two, living up at last to the name "halfman."
It had been Cersei who struck at Tyrion. For months, the tension between them had grown beyond control, and now it had spilled into open bloodshed. Tyrion had never imagined his sister would turn on him in the midst of war.
The Hound tossed Tyrion's unconscious body to Bronn before slipping away into the night. The battle, and the wildfire that had lit the sky, had left him shaken and sick at heart.
Now, only two kings remained in the War of the Five Kings: Joffrey on the Iron Throne, and Robb in the North.
Tywin sat tall in the saddle, surveying the ruin of Stannis's army with grim satisfaction.
The two greatest threats to the Iron Throne in the south had been broken. Only Robb Stark still stood, holding the line in the North and hoping to secure independence for the North and Riverlands.
But with Theon's interference, Robb had failed to seize the Riverlands entirely, nor had he crossed the Golden Tooth to plunder the Westerlands.
Indeed, Theon's presence had only strengthened the Iron Throne. Even before Stannis's host was shattered, the Mud Gate had never truly fallen.
Yet Theon had no allegiance. He would aid whichever side could offer him the most.
The war ended, and the mood in King's Landing lightened.
When Tywin rode into the city at the head of ten thousand knights, Cersei and her court rejoiced. Thanks to Theon's presence, the capital had not faced the same desperate peril as in the tale so many knew.
Cersei had not prepared poison, nor steeled herself for suicide as she once had in another telling of this war.
The figure who most astonished the realm was Theon Greyjoy. Rumors spread that he wore a suit of divine armor.
Some swore they had seen him summon it from nothing, a gift of the Drowned God himself. But most dismissed the tale. Their eyes had been fixed on Stannis, and those who had held the rear saw little of the frontlines.
Theon himself offered no explanation. Instead, he laughed as he counted his spoils. And when it came to plundering the fallen, none matched the Ironborn, who took everything they could carry.
When Theon returned to his residence, Joffrey was already gone. Before leaving, the boy-king had even threatened Amice, declaring that he would have Theon execute him on the morrow.
The very next day, Joffrey formally named Tywin Hand of the King in the throne room.
Tyrion, by comparison, was far less pleased. His fate was unchanged from the tale already known, recovering, no doubt, in some dark chamber.
After appointing Tywin as Hand, Joffrey wasted no time in ordering him to seize Amice. With the threat to King's Landing ended, it was time to settle old scores.
Tywin, however, had other matters in mind. He brought a small retinue and went to meet Theon.
At that moment, Theon was discussing matters of the Crab Claw Peninsula with his men. The sudden appearance of Tywin left him puzzled, though he quickly motioned for a stool to be brought.
Once seated, Tywin spoke first.
"The king has commanded me to take Amice Lucifor into custody."
Theon glanced at Amice on his left, then turned to Tywin.
"That's my order. Tell me your true purpose and spare me the stalling, it's tiresome."
Theon knew well enough that Tywin had not come merely to capture Amice. To him, Amice was only a minor knight, hardly worth Tywin's personal attention.
"I cannot grant you the Crab Claw Peninsula," Tywin said bluntly. "In exchange, I will give you all the Riverlands."
"Breaking your word is unwise, Lord Tywin," Theon replied coolly. "The king's decree names me lord of the Crab Claw, from Maidenpool to Duskendale."
At Theon's command, Amice rose to fetch the royal decree.
"No need," Tywin cut him off. "Tyrion was only acting as Hand when he pushed the boy-king into issuing it. The lad had no grasp of what he was giving away.
Theon frowned. If Tyrion had promised him the Crab Claw, then surely it had been discussed with Tywin. It seemed Tywin had never intended to yield the peninsula in the first place.
And when he thought on it further, Theon saw the truth: if the Ironborn seized the Crab Claw, the Crownlands would become little more than pirate territory.
"A crippled riverland is useless to me," he said darkly.
Tywin recognized the tactic for what it was, Theon was driving up the price.
"I will pay five hundred thousand gold dragons to help rebuild the Riverlands. I will also purge most of the lords who remain loyal to the Tullys. Refuse this, and you will have neither the Riverlands nor the Crab Claw."
The threat hung heavy in the air. Yet Theon only smiled.
"Very well. I don't want the Crab Claw."
Tywin gave a curt nod.
"Take your men to the Iron Islands or Riverrun and wait for the king's decree." With that, he departed.
When he was gone, the gathered nobles muttered angrily.
"If we hold the Crab Claw, the Riverlands will be ours as well!"
Theon turned on Umair and the others.
"I know you're displeased. But Tywin has no intention of giving it to us. What would you do about it? The Westerlands field ten thousand knights of the highest order, and their lords are many. How would you oppose them?"
Umair snapped, "The Ironborn fear no foe!"
Theon laughed harshly.
"And would you see your men slaughtered for nothing?"
Theon stepped forward, resting a hand on Umair's cheek as he spoke softly.
"A leader must never act on impulse. I hope, in time, you learn to stand on your own, and not be a mere butcher, wielding only brute force."
Theon rose and looked around the hall.
"Tywin took the Crab Claw from me because he commands ten thousand knights, while I command none.
But Tywin Lannister will not always rule the land as a lion. And I, Theon Greyjoy, will not remain forever a sea monster, chained to the waves."
He seized the siren figure from the table and raised it high.
"Arm the men! To Riverrun!"
—————————
Author's Note:
If you're enjoying the story and wish to support me, you can visit my P-@-t-r-3-0-n, where you can read 50+ extra chapters ahead!
Thank you so much for your support. It means the world! 💙😊
P-@-T -r-3-0-n [.] com / DylanBriak