- Mattias -
Only a few more days until they arrive at the Riverrun. Mattias and his army settled in one of the vessel houses that swore loyalty to Tully. They all took the time to gather enough supply to keep everyone fed and going.
They had managed to gather supplies at Fairmarket.
Fairmarket is a market town in the northern riverlands. It is situated on the Blue Fork of the Trident.
Fairmarket is located mostly on the southern shore of the Blue Fork. The wooden bridge which crosses the river at Fairmarket is newer and larger than another bridge upstream near Oldstones.
Using his Magnetic abilities and magic, Armament manages to farm gold. He does this by making swords made of gold then using his magnetic abilities to reshape it. He managed to acquire more food for his troops.
The reason why he brought Catelyn with him was because it helps him gather the vassal house support while also forming a solid connection with the people of riverrun once they head there.
He intends to do the same to the Stark in the future but he would need someone a Stark for it to happen.
Mattias plans to stay in Riverrun a bit to properly train his troops, perhaps using firearms, then head down south to take care of the Lannister.
He'll let Darius handle the northern part while he and Swain take care of the south.
At long last, Mattias and his army reached the outskirts of Riverrun. From afar, the great castle rose proudly where the rivers met, its towers glinting beneath the sun like a sentinel of stone.
The nearby peasant houses dotted the green landscape, their occupants pausing in their work as the rhythmic thunder of marching boots rolled through the valley.
The smallfolk gathered along the road and fences, eyes wide in awe and disbelief. Never had they seen an army like this. The soldiers' armor gleamed like polished mirrors, flawless and unblemished despite the dust of travel.
Each plate shimmered faintly with an otherworldly sheen Valyrian steel, forged into a style none had ever seen before. Jagged edges, blackened trims, and crimson banners bearing a sigil unknown to them made the host look more like conquerors from a legend than mere men.
At the head of the formation rode a dark-haired young man, his fur-trimmed cloak billowing with the wind. His bearing was calm yet commanding, the kind that made men straighten their backs without thinking.
Beside him rode Lady Catelyn Tully her auburn hair unmistakable even beneath the sun, and a young girl with the look of a wolf, sharp-eyed and unflinching.
Behind them came two men who seemed to embody the extremes of might and mind.
One, a towering giant clad in blackened steel, his weapon a great axe resting across his shoulder as if it weighed nothing at all. The other rode with a quiet authority, his sharp gaze hidden beneath a hood, one arm bound in dark metal that pulsed faintly with crimson light. Ravens circled above him, their cries echoing like a dark omen.
The peasants whispered among themselves as the column passed.
"Seven save us… those aren't Riverlords' men."
"They shine like gods of war…"
"Who's the young lord? The Lady Tully rides beside him!"
"Look at their armor."
"Not even the Lannisters could field such splendor…"
"I heard they came from beyond the Narrow Sea, some call him the Iron Monarch."
The murmurs followed them like ripples on water, spreading from mouth to mouth as more folk came out to witness the sight.
Some bowed their heads in reverence, others crossed themselves in fear, uncertain whether salvation or ruin had arrived at Riverrun's gates.
Along the way, Mattias had subjugated a few territories that had been occupied by Lannister allies, taking the leader prisoner while sparing the rest who surrendered and liberating the people from their post.
He spared his enemy because it is a way to show he is not like the other lords and place a seed of doubt to their enemy's army if they are following the right lord or not.
A ruler cannot be a leader if they don't have anything to lead nor rule.
"Your grace, what do you think of riverrun so far?" Catelyn asked.
"It is a rather perfect place for a kingdom to be. A long flowing river and fertile land is what people need to keep themselves alive."
Mattias said seeing how riverrun has flowing rivers to gather water while land that was fertile due to having dense minerals from the flowing water.
"I see, what about the scenery? Is it beautiful?"
She asked, enjoying hearing him praise her birth place.
"Yes, and the people appear to be welcoming. Though, it might have to do with you being with me."
Mattias said, seeing glimmering hope and curiosity in their eyes.
The main gate of Riverrun lowered with a groan, and waiting beyond it stood Ser Brynden Tully, the Blackfish himself. His sharp eyes scanned the approaching host before softening the instant they fell upon a familiar face.
"Catelyn…" he breathed, disbelief and relief mingling in his tone.
Catelyn dismounted without hesitation.
"Uncle," she said, her voice trembling slightly. She moved toward him, and Brynden met her halfway, pulling her into a tight embrace. For a long moment, neither spoke.
When they finally parted, Brynden's face bore a complex expression joy shadowed by sorrow.
"Seven hells, I thought I'd lost you too," he said gruffly, his eyes glistening.
"It's a blessing to see you alive, Cat. Truly."
But as his words lingered, his tone darkened, and anger flickered behind his eyes.
"Your boy… Robb," he muttered, his jaw tightening.
"He didn't deserve the treachery that took him. The Freys and the Boltons, they'll have their reckoning, I swear it."
He turned his gaze then toward Mattias, studying him intently before nodding with a soldier's respect.
"And you must be the one who brought my niece home safely."
Mattias inclined his head.
"That I did. Though there's no need for thanks, Ser Brynden. I was compensated well enough for my efforts."
Brynden gave a faint, weary smile.
"Perhaps. But know this. Riverrun remembers those who stand by House Tully. You have my gratitude, lad, and that of every Riverlander who still honors our name."
Catelyn smiled faintly between them, the tension softening for a brief moment. The gates of Riverrun opened wider then, as if welcoming not just kin returned but a glimmer of hope long thought lost in the Riverlands.
Brynden told them they should rest after a long trip and that they could discuss what to do against their enemies the next day.
Mattias nodded but glanced at Swain, who instantly understood what he wished to do.
No one noticed the subtle movement of Swain's fingers, the quiet murmur of a spell, or the faint flicker of shadow that slipped from his sleeve and vanished into the night.
Before coming here, they had discussed the possibility of traitors among the people of Riverrun, and Mattias had tasked Swain to gather information using his [Vision of Empire].
As the guests and soldiers began to disperse, the great hall grew quieter, lit only by a few torches and the flicker of the hearth. From the ramparts, dark shapes moved unseen ravens, their eyes glowing faintly crimson as they took flight into the misty evening sky.
Through their eyes, Swain saw everything.
The kitchens, where servants whispered nervously about the return of Lady Catelyn.
The barracks, where a few soldiers muttered about gold and promises made by men in crimson cloaks.
The courtyard, where a cloaked figure slipped through a side gate under the cover of darkness.
Swain's expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he stood atop one of the towers. The wind caught his cloak, the sigil of the Noxian hand gleaming faintly beneath it.
"Three men disloyal," he murmured to himself, voice low but cold.
"And two more who will turn if given reason."
Down below, Mattias entered his assigned quarter separated with Catelyn and Arya as she took her daughter around.
He sat by the window, gazing at the stars above Riverrun's towers.
"So," he muttered softly, "even here, corruption lingers."
Swain's voice reached him through the raven's eyes, clear and calm despite the distance.
"Would you have them executed now, my lord? Or would you prefer the names first?"
Mattias's gaze hardened.
"Names first. I want to know who they answer to."
A faint chuckle echoed in his mind.
"As you wish. The river hides many secrets… but not from me."
The connection faded. Outside, the ravens continued their silent patrol, weaving through the towers and shadows of Riverrun like living omens.
By dawn, Swain would return with the truth.
And once he did, Riverrun would be cleansed.
One whisper, one traitor, one corpse at a time.
Mattias waited inside his quarter as he planned on what he shall do in the riverrun until they depart to the south and north.
He only needs a week or two to find someone capable of handling firearms. Though, it would be simple guns since it would take a long time to train them on how to properly use them.
Using Valyrian weapons like spears and swords would be enough.
As Mattias studied the map before him, a firm knock broke his concentration. A servant's voice followed from beyond the door.
"My lord, a small dinner has been prepared. Lady Catelyn and Lord Bryden await you in the hall."
Mattias exhaled softly, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension that had built up from hours of planning. "Very well," he replied, rising from his chair.
He followed the servants through the dim corridors of Riverrun, the scent of hearthfire and roasted grain guiding him toward the dining hall. The room was modest compared to the grand feasts of other keeps.
Catelyn sat beside her uncle, Bryden Tully, whose weathered face brightened slightly upon seeing Mattias enter. Arya was there as well, unable to hide her small grin as she waved in greeting.
Swain and Darius were already seated farther down the table, enjoying their meal with uncharacteristic ease, Swain swirling his wine thoughtfully while Darius tore into roasted meat with his usual vigor.
The dishes were humble: stewed vegetables, coarse bread, and river fish seasoned with only salt and herbs. To Mattias, the flavor was plain but he was no stranger to the simple fare of soldiers and camps. He accepted his portion without complaint, content with the company more than the food.
Bryden rose slightly in his seat, gesturing warmly.
"Lord Mattias. You honor us by joining."
Mattias inclined his head in acknowledgment.
"The honor is mine, Lord Bryden."
Catelyn's smile met his gaze soft, almost shy and for a fleeting moment, the long march and the weight of command seemed lighter.
As they ate, Bryden leaned back slightly in his chair, swirling the last of his wine before speaking.
"I learned from Catelyn that you hail from a land far beyond the known world," he said, his gruff voice carrying a note of curiosity. "Care to share something about this homeland of yours?"
Mattias let out a quiet chuckle, setting down his cup. "You could say it's a world apart, Lord Bryden. My country lies in a great continent called Europe far beyond any map you've seen."
Arya's eyes widened with intrigue. "What's it like?" she asked eagerly, resting her elbows on the table before Catelyn gently nudged her arm down.
He smiled faintly.
"Vast cities of stone and glass rise taller than any tower in Westeros. Great ships of iron sail without wind, and men soar through the skies in metal birds. But… perhaps that is all too far to imagine."
Bryden raised a brow, half skeptical yet intrigued.
"Aye, sounds like the stuff of maesters' tales," he said with a short laugh.
"But from how you speak, I take it your homeland was more… advanced than ours?"
Mattias inclined his head slightly.
"In some ways, yes. We built weapons that could fell armies from miles away, and tools that made labor nearly effortless. Yet, despite all that power, men were still ruled by pride and greed. Civilization does not rid us of that."
Catelyn listened intently, her expression soft but searching.
"Then why leave such a place?"
Mattias's smile faded for a heartbeat before returning thin and practiced.
"Let's just say… even a perfect world can drive a man to seek something simpler."
The table fell into a brief, thoughtful silence. Swain gave a low hum of amusement while Darius tore another bite from his meal, unconcerned.
Bryden finally broke the quiet, nodding approvingly.
"Hmph. I see. Still, I envy the chance to have seen such wonders."
Mattias merely smiled again, this time with a trace of melancholy.
"Perhaps one day, Lord Bryden. But for now, I'm content to help build something better here."
Bryden leaned forward, his sharp eyes studying Mattias with a veteran's scrutiny.
"Tell me something, lad," he said, tone low but probing.
"What will you do after you've conquered Westeros? You speak with the same certainty Aegon once did but what comes after the fire and blood?"
The room quieted. Even Arya, who had been nibbling at her bread, looked up to listen.
Mattias set his goblet down and straightened in his chair. His tone was calm, but there was a conviction beneath it the kind that only those who truly believed in what they said could carry.
"I do not seek a throne for power's sake," he began. "When I look at this realm, I see men who've forgotten what crowns are for. They wear them as ornaments of pride not as burdens of duty."
He paused, his gaze steady. "When I rule, I'll build a kingdom where the common man no longer bleeds for the whims of the highborn. Where justice isn't written in gold, but in merit. I will end this cycle of fools killing fools for a seat that was never worth dying for."
Bryden's brows rose, impressed despite himself.
"Bold words," he murmured.
"And how do you intend to keep such promises? Words alone don't mend broken kingdoms."
Mattias gave a faint smile, one that didn't reach his eyes.
"Because unlike them," he said evenly, "I know what a ruler must be."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice low but resonant the kind of voice that could silence a hall:
"A king does not rule to be obeyed, he rules so his people can stand without him. But don't forget this, A true king is not meant to be cast aside once his people stand tall. He is the weight that keeps the world steady, the reminder that strength without guidance becomes ruin. A king who believes his people no longer need him is a fool. The strong may lead themselves, but the weak will always need someone to guard the light. That is the burden of a true ruler."
The table fell silent. Even Bryden looked thoughtful, the faintest flicker of respect softening his stern expression.
Catelyn's gaze lingered on Mattias pride, admiration, and a trace of awe flickering behind her eyes. Arya, meanwhile, smiled faintly, as if inspired by the certainty in his voice.
Swain smirked into his cup, while Darius simply nodded, clearly used to hearing such declarations from their commander.
Bryden finally exhaled, almost in disbelief.
"Seven hells… if only half the lords in this realm thought as you do, boy, we might not be drowning in corpses and treachery."
Mattias raised his cup slightly in response.
"Then perhaps, Lord Bryden, it's time someone reminded Westeros what true rule looks like."