Jon and Davos stepped through the gates of Riverrun. When Davos saw Riverrun surrounded by two rivers, he couldn't help but marvel at the castle's sturdiness and its impregnability.
" Sansa, you and Arya go in first, we'll be there shortly."
"Yes!" Sansa nodded, her eyes filled with excitement, while Arya cheered and strode into Riverrun.
" Jon, is this really going to work? I think we should have told Robb at least two days in advance."
Davos rubbed his severed finger with some concern.
"You don't know my brother. He's a decisive commander on the battlefield, but he's prone to indecisiveness in this area. We have to be very firm in our approach to get him to make the right choice." Jon and Davos talked as they rode their horses.
When they entered Riverrun, the guards looked at Jon and his companion with a mixture of respect and fear.
Rumors about Jon spread at an alarming rate throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
Some say he can control floods and flames, which is why he was able to defeat Lannister and Tyrell. To the average soldier, who is used to prenatal education, Jon is practically a wizard.
Davos was naturally aware of this as well. The two should have walked side by side, but he unconsciously lagged behind Jon by a step, as if that would make him feel safer.
Under the wary gaze of the Soldiers, the two passed through towers and fortresses. Jon had Robb Frey and Sandor take their horses, and the guards prepared to lead them toward the hall.
Then Jon discovered that the person who came to greet him was none other than his old acquaintance Ramsay.
Ramsay still liked to look at people with his gloomy eyes. He walked up to Jon and Davos and said "Dao".
"Please hand over your weapons."
Just as Davos was about to unfasten the sword from his waist, there was a sharp sound. He looked up abruptly and saw that Ramsay had fallen to the ground without him noticing.
It turned out that Jon slapped Ramsay so hard that he fell to the ground.
"Joan————" Davos froze for a moment, unsure of what Dao should say.
"You bastard! Robb is my brother! What are you trying to do?! Are you trying to sow discord between us?!"
Upon seeing Ramsay lying on the ground, the soldiers angrily stepped forward, but none of them dared to draw their swords.
Ramsay covered her burning cheek, looked up at Jon fiercely, and tears welled up in her dark eyes.
"Hmph!" Jon snorted and walked straight into the hall. Davos, who was behind him, glanced back and quickly followed.
Soon, the two arrived at Riverrun's spacious wooden hall, where a large group of high-ranking lords looked at them.
The air in the hall seemed to freeze. Every gaze cast upon them carried the chill unique to the North, pressing heavily on their shoulders.
Davos followed Jon across the high threshold, feeling as if he were stepping into a wolf's den. He couldn't imagine how Jon had stood here alone, facing the wrath of the entire North and Riverlands, against their decision to make Robb king.
"traitor!"
A curse lashed out like a whip, shattering the silence. It was " Greatjon," Robb's most loyal and fierce general, who, to some extent, represented the attitude of the North.
The voice wasn't loud, but it was loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear clearly.
Davos's eyes twitched, and he quickly scanned his surroundings. The other nobles remained silent, but their expressions, a mixture of disdain and...
The angry and confused look in his eyes had already made everything clear.
They might be thinking that if the Bastard had seized the opportunity to install Robb when conquering the kingdom, the North's influence would be at its peak. As for the kingdom being plunged into deeper war? That's not something they should be concerned with.
However, if you broaden your perspective to the entire hall, it's not entirely like that. Most people look at Jon with awe and curiosity, especially a certain young nobleman who looks to his teens and keeps grinning at Jon, but Jon doesn't have time to look at him.
Davos's gaze returned to Jon ahead. The young man stood tall and straight, his steps steady, his gray eyes calmly meeting all gazes, as if those invisible arrows had not harmed him in the slightest.
Jon, " Davos, your palms are sweating. Facing your family and fellow countrymen, being regarded as a traitor, what are you really thinking?"
At the far end of the hall, seated on a wooden throne, sat Robb Stark, the " King of the North. " His face was taut, the youthful naiveté gone, replaced by the weight and weariness of a king. To his left was his mother, Lady Catelyn Stark, whose eyes, when they met Jon's gaze, flickered with a complex emotion unlike any other—after all, he was the one who had rescued her two daughters from King's Landing. To his right stood Robb's newlywed queen, Jeyne Westerling.
" Robb." Jon stopped at an appropriate distance and bowed slightly. Davos followed closely behind.
"You should call me Your Majesty!" Greatjon roared again, his thick fingers pressing on the hilt of his sword.
Jon seemed not to hear, turning his gaze to Catelyn: " Mrs. Catelyn."
Catelyn nodded slightly to him, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Rickard Karstark, one of the Stark family's closest vassals, spoke coldly: "If you've come here to persuade us to abandon the king, you can turn back now, Snow. "
If the Stark line were to die out due to an accident, then someone would be chosen from House Karstark to inherit the Stark surname, as the two are essentially one entity. In Rickard's view, regardless of whether there is peace talks or not, Jon's claim to the Stark lineage is based on Stannis's connections, which Rickard considers not only illegitimate but also a betrayal of the Stark tradition. Bloodline's insult.
Harrion glanced at his father, then at Jon, and dared not say anything more.
Roose Bolton, on the other hand, had a sneer on his lips, looking like he was enjoying the show.
Jon ignored Rica's warning, his gaze remaining fixed on Mrs. Catelyn's face. His voice was clear and resonated throughout the hall: "Madam, do you remember the day I left Winterfell for the Wall? What did you say to me?"
Catelyn's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, and a blush of shame crept onto her pale cheeks.
She remembered, of course she remembered. Bran had just fallen from the high wall, his fate unknown, and she was heartbroken, taking her anger out on the bastard.
Davos swallowed hard; he could tell from Catelyn's expression that she hadn't said anything nice.
Jon didn't wait for her answer and spoke for her, word by word: "You said I should be the one falling off the wall, and I, this motherless bastard, should be the one lying there."
A suppressed commotion spread among the nobles, and some shifted uncomfortably. To bring up such a harsh past about the "mistress" in person was tantamount to a declaration of war.
" Jon!" Robb finally spoke, his voice filled with suppressed anger and offended authority. "Are you bringing up these old stories to humiliate my mother, or to gain sympathy?"
Robb had heard that Jon slapped Ramsay as soon as he arrived at Riverrun, which offended him somewhat.
Jon is now publicly criticizing his mother, Catelyn, which he finds intolerable.
Jon slowly turned to Robb, looking at him with those grey eyes that resembled Eddard Stark's. "No, Robb. I just wanted to tell Madam that I don't hate her."
He looked at Catelyn again, his voice unusually gentle, even tinged with nostalgia: "Just as you said, I'm a motherless bastard. I have no memory of my mother. But I remember once when I was little, I had a fever and was bedridden for several days. I woke up in the middle of the night, and you were there, huddled by my bedside. I'll never forget that warmth, but sadly, it only happened once. So, whenever I hear or think of the word 'mother'—I picture you."
The hostility in the hall, like a punctured skin, silently dissipated. Greatjon opened his mouth, but ultimately just muttered something and turned his head away. Mrs. Catelyn lowered her head, her fingers gripping her dress tightly, her shoulders trembling slightly. Robb's taut jawline seemed to soften for a moment as well.
Jeyne, who had been extremely nervous and uneasy, relaxed a little.
But this moment of warmth was completely shattered by Jon's next words.
"But," Jon's voice hardened again, like the walls of Castle Black, "I now pledge allegiance to Stannis Baratheon I." Your Majesty. He gave me the surname Stark, so that I was no longer Snow.
My contribution to this is to dedicate my loyalty to him.
He looked directly into Robb's eyes, and the brothers' gazes met in mid-air, with no turning back.
"My purpose in coming here is on Your Majesty's orders to ask you to lay down your crown and submit to the iron throne."
"Otherwise what?" Robb's voice was as cold as ice.
"Otherwise, we'll only meet on the battlefield." Jon's tone was eerily calm. "If fate forces me to kill you with my own hands, Robb, I won't live alone. I will go with you, because Father said that winter is coming, the lone wolf must die, and the pack must live. You and I are both lone wolves now."
"The moment to show off your acting skills has arrived," Jon said, pausing, his voice trembling with emotion. "Because killing you feels like killing my mother's son. And the blood that flows between brothers will stain the entire Trident River. The North and the Riverlands have already shed too much blood."
A somber atmosphere enveloped the hall. Lyman, seated among the princes, craned his neck and clenched his fists, wondering why Jon's words had made him feel so oppressed.
Rickard couldn't bear to watch any longer. The brothers killing each other was a tragedy that Eddard Stark would never want to see, and he finally stopped caring where the surname " Jon " came from.
Since he can say such a thing, he is a Stark.
Roose Bolton's lips curled into a barely perceptible smile. This was just right. Back when Jon was in Harrenhal, he used this "I'd rather die with you" kind of Aura to leave himself helpless.
"I will wait outside for your reply." Jon's gaze swept over Robb, Catelyn, and every lord. "Whatever your decision is, Robb — before we turn to arms, I want to embrace you one last time, like when I returned to Winterfell."
After saying that, he turned away resolutely, just as he had advised Robb against becoming king, except that he shed a few more tears.
Jon deliberately made a gesture of wiping away tears so that more people could see it.
Although politics does not take human feelings into account, human feelings are a weapon in politics.
Under the watchful eyes of everyone, he walked out of the hall alone. The heavy door frame framed his back, dividing the hall into two worlds.
The pressure suddenly fell entirely on Davos's shoulders, who remained where he was. He took a deep breath, stepped forward, and faced the crowd with their varied expressions.
"My lords," his voice was not loud, but carried the composure honed by years of seafaring, "Yes, Jon is a bastard, that's true. But it's not Jon's fault that he's a bastard. He is the purest, bravest, and most responsible man I, Davos Seaworth, have ever met."
He glanced around, his gaze sweeping over every face: " His Majesty Stannis tried three times to persuade him to stay, offering the Stark name and the title of Lord of Casterly Rock, but he only accepted on the last try. Why? Because he was afraid of this situation, afraid of turning against Robb, whom he considered a brother!"
Davos emphasized, "Now, Duke Walder Frey of Riverrun has pledged allegiance to the iron throne, and House Redwyne's fleet is gathering, soon to punish Balon Greyjoy for usurping the throne! The blood of the Riverlands has not yet dried, and the children and old in the North still suffer in the bitter cold, longing for their fathers, sons, and brothers to return home!"
He looked one last time at Robb on the throne, his words earnest yet carrying an undeniable reality: " Your Majesty, my lords, lay down that crown that is not yours. It is too heavy, forged with the lives of countless good men of the North and the Riverlands. Go home, back to your true home in the Winterlands, where you should protect what is rightfully yours."
That was all he had to say. Davos bowed deeply, said no more, and turned to leave the hall, leaving the feudal lords with a deathly silence and an incredibly difficult choice.
Outside, the cold autumn rain continued. Davos saw Jon standing in the yard, looking up at the gray clouds over Riverrun, as if trying to find a crack in the sunlight.