[Chapter Size: 3500 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Braavos, 300 AC.
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No one stopped the members of the fleet from leaving Braavos after the meeting and advancing south. As the ship carrying the ministers departed the city and rejoined the fleet of five hundred ships, they finally began setting sail toward their next destination.
At the same time, the enormous fleet of one thousand five hundred ships was off the coast of White Harbor at that moment, a route that also connected with Braavos, since the two cities lay practically along the same shipping lane.
A merchant ship that had come from Braavos to sell the goods they had acquired in that city, after selling what they had brought from the North, was finally approaching the continent and would arrive at White Harbor in about one or two days.
What they did not expect was the sight that would appear before them. While someone atop the mast tried to spot any enemy they might encounter, he raised a hand in front of his eyes to block the sunlight that hindered his vision. Even so, he began to make out shadows on the horizon.
Then his eyes widened. "That... that's far too many ships! No... It can't be!" he exclaimed in shock as he began to tremble.
"Captain! Captain! Ships ahead of us!" he started shouting.
The rest of the men, who were maintaining and steering the ship, stopped what they were doing to listen to the lookout above. The captain, who had been talking and laughing with his men, immediately stopped and approached.
"What are you talking about? Are you sure? Where are they?" he asked.
"Captain, you'd better come up here and see this for yourself. Trust me, you'll want to see it," the man said, his voice filled with nervousness.
The captain quickly climbed the rope ladder. It took him a little while, but he finally reached the top of the mast. As soon as he looked in the direction indicated by his man, he too shuddered, completely stunned.
"Gods... What is that?" He was a Northern merchant who always traveled between Braavos and White Harbor, buying goods in one port to sell them in the other, making the return journey on every voyage while trying to earn as much profit as possible.
But in all his travels, he had never encountered the sight before him. It immediately made him start trembling.
"Th-This... This can't be real..." he murmured, unable to believe what his eyes were showing him.
He couldn't count how many shadows lay before them. They formed an enormous line. It was possible to see where it began in the south, but to the north, he was unable to see where the formation ended.
"Am I really seeing that many ships, Captain? Gods... How many?" the lookout asked, trembling.
"I don't know... I don't know. There must be hundreds, maybe even a thousand ships!" the captain replied, equally frightened.
"What are we going to do? We're heading straight toward them!"
"Lower the sails..." the captain murmured quietly, swallowing hard. "Lower the sails... Now!" His shout echoed down to the men below.
"What's happening, Captain?" his men asked.
"Just do as I say! Slow the ship down immediately. That's an order!"
Seeing the captain's condition, everyone began to feel that something was terribly wrong. Even so, there was nothing they could do except obey. The captain still refused to explain.
At the top of the mast, he continued studying the situation on the horizon. Finally, he climbed down. "There's an entire fleet heading south right now, directly ahead of us. We can't get any closer. I don't know what's going on, but I saw white banners," he said.
Everyone's eyes widened. "It could be them..." someone suggested.
Everyone immediately understood.
"That's very likely," the captain replied in a serious tone. "Which means they're already making their move, and they've probably already spotted us."
By coincidence, a sound came from above. Everyone looked up at a seagull circling overhead, watching them.
"This isn't good..." one of the sailors murmured, shuddering.
"Who says that? They're finally heading south!" another replied, thinking differently from his fearful companions.
They were already well aware of what was happening in Westeros. After all, Lord Manderly had given a speech to all the Northerners in White Harbor about Arctic's arrival and actions. The war had been horrific, but not every man in the North had gone to fight. Many had continued working while watching the North fall and bleed at the hands of the ironborn.
This particular group could do nothing except continue practicing their trades, earning coins, paying their war taxes, and supporting their families. That was the only thing that mattered to them. Not that anyone could truly blame them. Their job wasn't to kill men, and someone had to keep maritime trade running.
"Vil is right. I don't think they'll attack us," the captain said, still watching the seagull as it circled the ship once more and, apparently dissatisfied with what it saw, simply flew away.
"That makes sense. If they really wanted to attack us, we wouldn't even be able to escape," another sailor said.
Everyone agreed. It was hard to believe that something like this was happening out of nowhere.
As much as they had expected something like this, since the Northerners supported Jon Arctic and hated Robb ever since the North had begun bleeding because of the decisions made by its own lords, independence had not become particularly popular among the common people.
After all, the nobles could shout that they were now independent and followed a Stark king.
But what about the people? The people were the ones who had been suffering under the ironborn and the Boltons for more than a year. Entire villages had been wiped out along the western coast, castles and towns captured, men taken as slaves, and women turned into breeding stock for those filthy raiders.
In some villages, they didn't even give the men a chance. They simply slaughtered them all and took only the women, doing it even for their own pleasure.
Did the North deserve this? Of course not.
No one would want to go through that, but the North had suffered because its army was in the south, and instead of trying to regroup and defend their homeland, they continued fighting battles over a crown that most people in the North truly didn't care about.
So, the arrival of the Arcticans was something everyone had been hoping for. They hoped they would bring justice and vengeance against those who had hurt them, because they deserved justice. The North remembered that and hoped that a sword would come to their aid.
The cautious men began to sigh at the captain's last words, and some of them started to feel a measure of relief.
"My uncle and aunt lived along the coast. I heard their village was raided, the women taken away, and the bodies of men left staining the ground with blood... I don't know what happened to them, but I hope every ironborn who attacked that village is dead in the cruelest way possible. Lord Manderly said they were dealing with all of them. I hope it's true."
"I hope they make it all the way to the heart of those islands and destroy everything, since our magnificent King Robert Baratheon wasn't capable of wiping out the Greyjoys when he had the chance. Instead, he spared them, and that's what caused this problem a few years later."
It was well known that Arctic was heading south, most likely to the Iron Islands. So everyone hoped they would take the war to their homeland.
"May they kill every last one of those damned Lannisters, Boltons, and ironborn!" someone shouted.
"That's right! Wipe out every last one of them so that this plague can never breed again. May men like them never be born again. May they burn in the Seven Hells!"
"They're heading south. Do you think they left some men behind in the North?"
"I doubt they'd leave the North as it is. We haven't gone that long without news from Essos, but by now they must have already reached the Iron Islands. If they've done anything else in the North, we'll find out once we reach White Harbor."
And so, they waited for hours. The fleet seemed endless. Ship after ship continued sailing south until the last one finally disappeared beyond the horizon.
Only then did they raise their sails again and continue toward White Harbor.
The voyage took the expected amount of time as they sailed along the North's southern coast until they reached White Harbor. The city was in complete chaos. The summary of what they had seen at sea shocked everyone, as numerous ships had turned back after encountering that enormous fleet and returned to White Harbor in fear.
One thousand five hundred ships...
While part of the fleet continued toward the war, those twenty thousand men had landed at the Wall and had begun marching through the North several days earlier. White Harbor already knew that detail...
And it was officially Bran Stark who was leading the forces of the North. That immediately filled everyone in White Harbor with hope.
"Finally... Finally, someone to deal with those bastards!"
The people of the city began painting Arctic banners, drawn by their own hands at that very moment. Even the children ran through the streets with wooden swords in their hands and Arctic banners, pretending to be the men who were about to fight for the North and liberate it, while that force marched south to avenge Lord Stark and all those who had died for the North.
Men who had gone south and fought without achieving vengeance, dying in vain while trying to place a meaningless crown upon Robb Stark's head.
Although some still held no resentment toward the Northerners who had gone south, many wanted vengeance for them. Lord Manderly only had to manage the situation and watch the outcome. His son was still being held captive by the Boltons along with others.
In any case, in the North, some time before these events in White Harbor, the Arctican troops, led by Bran, Brynden Rivers, and Mance, met up with the royal knight, who had brought Alys Karstark along with a few trusted men who had managed to get her out of the castle.
"My lady..." Bran approached as he met her.
The girl could only look at them with eyes full of hope. "Please... Please help me," she said, immediately dropping to her knees before them.
"My lady, I ask that you calm yourself. We'll take care of this." He said as he stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder while she took a deep breath and began to cry.
"We're going to settle this once and for all," Bran reassured her.
They stopped to talk while the troops continued marching behind them. A tent was set up for the girl, offering her something warm to drink to help her calm down.
She was amazed by everything around her. Before her, Brynden and Mance studied the map of the North while Bran explained a few things to her. In fact, they were speaking specifically about the region of Karhold.
"So even though she came to us, our next target is still Karhold." She could only listen in silence.
Her uncle, Arnolf Karstark, had arranged to force her into marriage with his son, and the Arcticans had already been trying to prevent Alys's wedding. When she heard that, it only frightened her even more, but at the same time, it was exactly what had given her the opportunity to escape. Her uncle had become frightened and lost because of the threat posed by the Arcticans.
"I think we can move on now. We should reach Karhold in a few days."
"My uncle won't stop looking for me," she murmured.
Some of the men let out a brief laugh. "Then let him look. It'll save us some work, since we won't have to storm a castle to go after him," Bran replied.
And so, she traveled with them over the following days.
Although they suggested that she be escorted to the Wall, she didn't want to go there. She wanted to remain with them, now that they were so close to settling everything.
No one insisted any further. The girl, Meera Reed, who spent much of her time keeping Brynden company, ended up talking with Alys. She barely knew her, after all, the Reeds were quite reclusive.
The two talked, and she explained Arctic's situation. The girl also listened to the story of everything they had gone through up to that point, from their escape from Winterfell to being rescued by King Jon Arctic on the back of a massive dragon.
"I heard he spread that information at first to confuse the North. During the feasts that followed, most of the North thought it was nonsense. They believed he had only appeared to create discord," Alys murmured before showing a faint, embarrassed smile, since she had basically thought the same as the rest of the North.
"Only the nobles thought that way..." Bran replied as he stepped closer.
Then he continued, "Our lords became arrogant, and the North suffered because of it."
"My father..." she said cautiously.
"Your father was one of the first to proclaim Robb king, but he ended up being executed because of him..." Bran replied, somewhat dejected.
She nodded, and Bran could see a trace of resentment in her eyes. He couldn't blame her; he knew it wasn't a lie. There had been many mistakes on both sides.
"There were many mistakes made by your father and your brothers, just as there was a mistake in Robb casting aside an ally like that... They say Robb and his brothers may still be alive in the south. Jon is looking for them." He tried to reassure her, giving her something like hope. Though faint, it was still there.
Bran had no idea whether Robb was alive or not at that point, so he couldn't say much more. But it was a possibility.
"I hope so. They would never have let Arnolf do what he did. I wanted to throw them into my uncle's house," Alys replied. "After all, he has no right to Karhold if they're still alive." She spat on the ground.
"You are the Lady of Karhold at this moment, Lady Alys..." Bran said.
"Thank you... You'll begin with Karhold. So you intend to conquer the entire North..." she said, and it wasn't a question.
"Yes. That's my mission here," Bran replied calmly as he stood beside Meera.
With that, they continued toward the castle, which finally appeared on the horizon.
At the sight of Karhold, Alys took a deep breath as she looked upon her home once again. The castle was already in a state of panic. No men had managed to go after her except for a few squads that had later been found dead. Those who chose to fight were killed immediately, causing the others to surrender and be placed in chains.
None of the men from Karhold managed to escape. Not when there were two wargs powerful enough to control every horse.
They might not have been anywhere near as powerful as Jon, but handling at most twenty horses was still well within their capabilities. Brynden, in particular, could control thousands of crows, which now circled throughout the entire kingdom.
The troops finally came to a halt before Karhold.
A white banner was raised.
The castle also opened its gates beneath a white banner, sending out a group of men, all of them looking nervously at the Arcticans. It was obvious they were at an enormous disadvantage, even though they still had a few thousand men, since they had barely taken part in the latter stages of the war after abandoning Robb as soon as their lord, Alys's father, was executed.
"So, here you are, Arnolf Karstark..." Bran began as the men came to a stop.
Although Arnolf was an old, bearded man, he seemed extremely cautious. He couldn't help but glance nervously at Alys, who stood among the group with a cold expression. She was no longer the little girl imprisoned in her chambers. She had decided to stop hiding months ago, and over the past few days, she had resolved to face her uncle once and for all, keeping her chin high and her posture firm.
"Alys..." the man began.
"Hello, Uncle. I suppose you know why we're here."
"In a way... No. You've come to bring my niece back, haven't you?" Arnolf asked the Arcticans, who immediately scoffed.
"Obviously not. We're not handing Alys over to a rapist," Bran shot back angrily.
Brynden had asked Bran to lead the negotiations. In fact, Brynden Rivers would remain at his side to intervene if necessary. After all, this also served to train Bran in dealing with his future vassals as the new Lord of Winterfell.
"What did you just call me, or my son!?" Karstark was far from pleased to hear that and spat on the ground. "How dare you call us rapists?"
"Isn't it obvious? You imprisoned your own blood in a tower, making her a captive for moons, all because you refuse to accept that she is the rightful Lady of Karhold. You turned against your own blood. You're exactly the kind of scum the North doesn't need," Bran replied, hating the fact that families betrayed one another.
"And what are you doing now? Aren't you simply taking power from your own brother?" the man shot back, glaring at Bran in anger. "Robb should still be the Lord of Winterfell."
That made Alys look at Bran with concern. But Bran merely shrugged and shook his head.
"Not necessarily, Lord Karstark," Brynden said this time, interrupting Bran. "Robb committed crimes against the Crown. The true Crown of the Seven Kingdoms. Or have you forgotten that Jon Arctic is the rightful king? The one trying to usurp power is Robb Stark and the lords of the North and the Riverlands, since the North and the Riverlands have always belonged to the rightful king. Robb merely started a rebellion to inflate his own ego along with that of his lords."
Brynden spoke again before the man could respond. "Second: Robb committed a crime against his own people. He allowed his personal ambitions and his own power to take precedence over the North itself. He was a king who lost his own home. In other words, he allowed his people to suffer. A king who abandoned his lands simply to try to keep a crown heavier than he was capable of bearing."
The Bloodraven stared at the man. "Am I wrong, Lord Karstark? After all, look at what this has brought upon the North. This region may not have suffered as much, but the entire western coast was devastated by Greyjoy raids. The North bled, and its king had already brought enough terror upon the North during these past moons."
Brynden paused briefly before finishing his argument. "Third: you have no right to say anything at all. After all, as Lady Stark has just said, you're nothing more than a rapist trying to seize power over your own blood."
"That's not true!" the man replied angrily, ignoring everything else just to refute the last accusation. "The Karstarks are a noble family that has existed for thousands of years. Do you think I'm simply going to let our house be led by a woman? That you can insult us so easily?!"
"As you've already proven yourself to be quite competent at managing this castle, haven't you?" Bran replied sarcastically. "In any case, these negotiations are over." This time, it was Bran who spoke.
He returned to his horse. "Let's bring down Karhold and capture the rebels." Without another word, they moved forward while Arnolf Karstark watched the troops from the opposite side. Everyone was disheartened and terrified.
At the same time, the Arcticans prepared to attack. With their longbows, they began slaughtering every man standing on the walls, at the windows, and in the watchtowers. There were archers positioned atop the tallest towers, but they easily exploited the fortress's blind spots.
A specialized infiltration group advanced. They scaled the walls, slaughtered the guards, and opened the gates.
Everything happened incredibly fast. Within moments, the army advanced and captured Karhold on the very first night, and they didn't need to blow up the ship.
Everyone who had committed crimes was forced to their knees. Bran was given the responsibility of executing Arnolf Karstark. Without hesitation, he raised the Valyrian steel sword he now wielded and beheaded him.
Arnolf's son, who had been meant to marry Alys, on the other hand, was sentenced to serve in the Night's Watch. That was the first major act carried out by the Arcticans in the North.
The rest of the kingdom still awaited their assault.
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