Armies were massing around Riverrun once again. It wasn't just the Riverlands' forces this time, but also the Northern army fresh from their campaign in the Westerlands. Banners snapped in the wind and horses neighed, but despite the display of strength, an invisible weight hung over the castle on the banks of the Trident.
In the study that once belonged to Edmure's father, Lord Hoster Tully, Robb sat in the center seat. Flanking him was his "inner circle": Catelyn, Brynden "The Blackfish," Rickard Karstark, and Edmure.
The mood in the room was grim. No one had expected the bastard, Jon Snow, to be so audacious—to launch a mutiny, seize command of the troops, and march on King's Landing.
"He's going to get that entire army of ten thousand wiped out," Edmure said, resting his hand on his sword hilt. "Between the Lannisters and the Tyrells, they have a hundred thousand men! If only Jon had been placed directly under Lord Bolton's command from the start, none of this would have happened."
Edmure made the comment snidely, glancing at Robb out of the corner of his eye. As expected, Robb was glaring at him darkly.
Robb had been blaming Edmure for not letting Tywin's army cross the river, which ruined Robb's ambush plans. But Edmure's orders had been to hold the Red Fork against Tywin. He had won his battle, yet Robb wasn't happy.
Edmure was only in his twenties. Having defeated the legendary Tywin Lannister, his ego was inflated, and he was getting tired of taking orders from his nephew, who had barely come of age. At the very least, he felt entitled to gripe a little.
In his eyes, he and Roose Bolton were in the same boat—underappreciated.
Seeing the friction between her brother and her son at such a critical moment, Catelyn was burning with anxiety. Sansa was still in King's Landing, in Lannister hands, and this internal division broke her heart.
"We put too much trust in the bastard. After all, he isn't a true Stark," Rickard Karstark chimed in. Based on the reports, his own son had been swept up in Jon's scheme. "When he returns, we should ship him off to the Wall."
Brynden "The Blackfish," seeing his niece Catelyn's distress and the tension in the room, stepped in to cut them off. "Now is not the time for complaints! We need to figure out our next move. Jon marching on King's Landing isn't entirely bad news. Stannis has the largest fleet in the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps he and Jon can take the city together. That would indirectly give us a powerful ally."
Jon's timing had been impeccable. From the mutiny to the march south, to taking and holding the city, the whole thing had taken less than a month. Since Robb's group had just returned from the far-off Westerlands, it was normal for their news to be lagging behind.
The Blackfish's words eased the tension slightly, but a question remained: Should they send troops to King's Landing?
"It's likely too late to send aid now. The battle for King's Landing is probably already over," the Blackfish reasoned. "We should consolidate our defense and wait and see. We don't have the manpower to be reckless."
"Edmure," the Blackfish muttered, silencing his nephew who looked ready to say something unhelpful again.
Robb had broken his marriage pact by wedding a noble girl from the Crag in the Westerlands. In response, Black Walder Frey had angrily withdrawn his forces. The Ironborn, after looting the Westerlands alongside them, had returned to the Iron Islands—even Theon was gone.
Now, between the North and the Riverlands, Robb had only about twenty thousand men. That force was barely enough to hold the Riverlands, let alone the North, which was ten times the size.
Edmure wasn't wrong about one thing, though: it was too late to rush to the capital. They could only leave it to fate.
Just then, the Maester of Riverrun hurried into the study. Everyone knew instantly—this was news from King's Landing.
All eyes locked onto the thin piece of parchment in the Maester's hand. It wasn't just paper; it was a verdict on the fate of the Riverlands and the Westerlands.
"Your Grace," the Maester said, presenting the letter to Robb.
Robb looked at the letter, his arm feeling heavy, as if he were afraid to read the words inside. He could hear the breathing around him grow shallow and rapid—especially Catelyn's. She looked at that paper with tears welling in her eyes.
It was clear the letter came from the Red Keep. Such a message would carry the voice of the victor, and the fate of her daughter.
"Read it!" Robb finally forced the words out.
The Maester glanced around the room, then broke the seal. He scanned the contents quickly, his expression going through a series of wild changes.
He should have read it aloud immediately, but he read it silently three times without making a sound. The suspense was agonizing. Edmure and Rickard craned their necks, looking ready to jump up and dive into the paper themselves.
"Read it, damn it!" Rickard huffed, glaring at the old man.
"Oh... y-yes, at once." The Maester stammered, flustered. He cleared his throat and began:
"The late Hand of the King, Lord of Winterfell, son of the Warden of the North, Jon Snow, has liberated King's Landing. One day ago, he executed the false king Joffrey and repelled the Lannister rebels—"
Before the Maester could even finish, the room erupted. Everyone wore a look of utter shock.
Robb sprang up and snatched the letter from the Maester's hands.
The council watched as Robb's expression shifted from shock to disbelief. He, too, stared at the paper, reading it over and over just like the Maester had.
Jon had deliberately omitted the Tyrells—who were technically also "rebels"—making it look like he was making decisions on behalf of Stannis. But that didn't matter much. He could easily claim he was just trying to minimize bloodshed; if the Tyrells remained stubborn, he could deal with them later.
"Robb? Robb!" The Blackfish finally couldn't hold back. "What does it say? Did Jon really take King's Landing?"
Everyone was baffled. Jon had barely ten thousand men. Stannis had a massive fleet, the Tyrells had a massive army—either of them should have been able to eat Jon alive like a bowl of peas. How was it that Jon was the one issuing the victory proclamation?
In the Blackfish's view, the best-case scenario was Jon helping Stannis take the city as a support force.
"Sansa... Robb, does it say anything about Sansa?" Catelyn asked, her voice trembling and choked with tears.
Robb snapped out of his daze and handed the letter back to the Maester. "Finish reading it."
The Maester took the thin paper and continued: "I hereby proclaim Stannis Baratheon, the First of His Name, as the lawful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, heir to the Iron Throne. The lords of the Seven Kingdoms have a duty to serve their King. We must unite to intercept the traitor Tywin Lannister and his cohorts, to end this national crisis and restore order."
The Maester finished, but the room wasn't satisfied. The Blackfish snatched the letter back to analyze it, and Edmure leaned in to look over his shoulder.
"Jon... it was Jon who took King's Landing?" Edmure said in disbelief. He had thought defeating Tywin in a defensive battle made him a war hero, but Jon had just humbled him completely.
The Blackfish exchanged a look with the others. The situation wasn't hard to deduce.
Most likely, Jon had taken King's Landing after Stannis had been defeated, and then quickly executed Joffrey. If that was the case, Jon's achievement was unimaginably huge.
First, he had avenged Winterfell. The "mutiny" and chaos were irrelevant now; no one in the North or the Riverlands would dare touch him.
Second, regarding Stannis: If Jon took the city after Stannis failed, he didn't even need to return to the North. Stannis would view Jon as his savior.
It was a feat the history books wouldn't be able to match.
It took about a quarter of an hour for everyone to fully digest the news. Then, there was a long, heavy silence.
Catelyn held the letter now, her panic rising. Sansa was deep inside the Red Keep. Jon and Sansa had never gotten along. Would he... Catelyn didn't dare finish the thought. She prayed Jon wasn't that kind of person.
Deep down, she didn't believe Jon would murder Sansa—that wasn't him. She remembered when he left Winterfell for the Wall; even when she was cold to him, he had gone out of his way to say goodbye to Bran. She was just terrified that in the chaos of sacking the city, he hadn't prioritized Sansa's safety.
"Since Tywin has only three or four thousand men left, I will be the one to end him," Rickard said, breaking the silence. His two sons had died by Jaime's hand. Killing Jaime's father seemed like a fair price.
"Wait!" The Blackfish suddenly spoke up. "Would a Westerlands still led by Tywin act as a shield for us? Could it draw Stannis's attention?"
A strange atmosphere began to brew. If their goal was independence, did they really want Tywin dead?
No one dared say it outright. For the Riverlands, the brutal Lord of Casterly Rock was the source of all their suffering.
While the group pondered this riddle, a raven flew directly into the study and landed on the windowsill.
Caw! Caw!
The bird's cry grabbed everyone's attention. They saw a message tube tied to its leg.
"It's Jon's raven!" Robb recognized it immediately. The room perked up again. If the first letter was a public proclamation, this was a private message—it would contain the real details.
The Maester once again removed the tube and handed it to Robb.
This time, Robb didn't hesitate. The man who took King's Landing was his brother—bastard or not. There was nothing he couldn't handle now.
Robb opened the tube. All eyes focused on him.
A moment later, Robb spoke. "Sansa is alive. Jon says she is safe."
Hearing this, Catelyn's entire body went limp with relief. She buried her face in her hands and wept uncontrollably, her shoulders shaking violently, gasping for air.
Edmure rushed to comfort his sister, and the tension in the study evaporated rapidly.
Robb went to his mother's side as well. He and Edmure exchanged a glance, putting their previous quarrel aside for the moment.
"Robb, what else did Jon say?" Edmure asked.
Robb handed the letter to Edmure and addressed the room. "Jon says he is holding King's Landing. Stannis retreated to Dragonstone, so Jon intends to crown Stannis king. Also, he says Tywin is fleeing toward Stony Sept, mostly with cavalry. He wants us to prepare. Capturing Tywin might give us leverage to negotiate with Stannis later."
Hearing Robb explain it, Rickard felt a pang of shame. Jon was fulfilling his vow to fight for Winterfell and the North.
It was fortunate the Greatjon wasn't there. If he were, he'd probably be bellowing about why Jon didn't just crown Robb king instead.
But after so many bitter battles, everyone knew their limits. The North and Riverlands didn't have the power or prestige to rule the Seven Kingdoms. Jon supporting Stannis was the best choice to avoid endless war.
"Your Grace, let us march now! Intercept Tywin and use his blood to honor my sons and the people of the Riverlands!" Rickard pleaded for battle again.
However, the mood shifted. The Blackfish spoke thoughtfully, "We should kill Tywin, of course. But... if what we want is independence, is a dead Tywin more useful, or is a living Tywin more advantageous to us?"
"Brynden?" Catelyn, recovering from her tears, looked at her uncle in shock.
What does he mean? No revenge?
But her mind cleared quickly now that she knew Sansa was safe. Her political instincts returned.
A living Tywin could lead the Westerlands and fight Stannis. Stannis would have to deal with Tywin before he could turn his eyes toward the North.
---
Meanwhile, in King's Landing, Jon—warging into the raven—furrowed his brow.
He saw the conversation in the study drifting in a direction he didn't like. He had sent the raven because he suspected this might happen.
And his fears were confirmed. Specifically, the Blackfish's reaction surprised him.
Then again, he and Hoster Tully were brothers, Jon thought. Hoster rebelled against the Targaryens for the sake of his family. Naturally, Brynden considers the family's interest first.
Family, Duty, Honor. Those were the Tully words. And Family came first.
The atmosphere in Riverrun was turning ambiguous.
Robb turned to look for the raven, but suddenly realized the bird had vanished.
Jon had already flown the raven to a hidden branch outside, where another bronze message tube was stashed. This was his backup plan.
He picked up the hidden bronze tube in his beak, snapped it into the holder on his leg, and took flight toward the Twins.
If Robb was going to be fickle with their alliance, then Jon would go to old Walder Frey.
The Freys held the crossing that blocked the Northern army's way home. And having already lost a Queen, the Frey family surely had no desire to make an enemy of the Iron Throne as well.