[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Riverrun.
...
...
Tully men ran back and forth across the courtyard, while groups exited through the gate and others entered.
The rain kept falling as the ground beneath them turned to mud under their feet, splashing as they moved across the wet earth.
Some lightning flashed in the sky — rare for this kind of rain, but it happened in that moment — briefly illuminating a man walking through the area as well.
He appeared in the flash of light, continuing forward unnoticed, passing by all the other men who seemed to be preparing to leave the next day.
Inside the castle, Hoster Tully was looking at his younger brother, who was putting on his armor with the black trout emblazoned on the chest, making his final preparations with the lord of his house.
Cough, cough, cough!
Coughs began echoing from the man behind the desk, who seemed to be choking on them, while the other man waited patiently for him to stop.
Hoster then took a deep breath and looked at his brother.
"You'll leave at first light tomorrow and march to meet the Northern army, then?" the man said.
"Yes," the Blackfish replied. "I've asked everyone to be ready. That's why the castle courtyard is so busy tonight, even with the rain. We'll be leaving tomorrow. The Lannister army is still scattered throughout the Kingdom, while Tywin is concentrated in the east and appears to be moving toward Harrenhal."
"I see. I'll send letters to our sworn houses, to focus on Robb Stark from now on."
"You'll be alright?" Brynden Tully asked.
"You're only going to escort the Northern army this far. I'll be fine with Edmure. Cough, cough, cough!" he said before beginning to cough again, uncontrollably.
"You must take care of yourself, brother. I'll call the Maester for you," the Blackfish said, but Hoster shook his head, refusing.
"I'm fine, Brynden. You don't need to..."
He tried to insist, but Brynden simply shook his head.
"No, I'll do it now, Hoster. Wait a moment," he said and left the solar, heading to where the Maester was.
Upon finding him, the old man with several chains around his neck attended him immediately.
Brynden explained the situation, and the healer nodded, heading toward the solar.
Brynden then took a different path, heading for the castle entrance, exchanging a few more words with his men and checking on things.
After that, he was about to go up the stairs and return to his chambers on the upper floors, remove his armor, and rest, when — as he passed through one of the lower corridors — he noticed something strange.
The corridor was strangely empty — even the candles were unlit.
His gaze shifted from side to side, but he found no one. Not even servants.
That made him frown. Instead of heading up the stairs, he decided to investigate the dark corridor, because this was definitely not normal.
He took one of the torches from the wall and moved forward, lighting the way.
It didn't take long before he began descending the stairs, finding no one around — which concerned him, since this was the castle vault area, where many guards should always be present.
But he found his answer soon enough.
The Blackfish widened his eyes, stunned, upon seeing eight men lying on the ground — unconscious, left side by side.
Quickly, Brynden drew his sword and looked ahead down the corridor.
There was a lit area ahead — and it was, basically, the vault.
A place no one should have access to, except the family itself.
"Could be Edmure..." Brynden murmured, but quickly dismissed the idea given the situation.
Either way, he moved forward with his sword in hand toward the vault entrance.
Upon entering, he saw someone standing in the middle of the place, back turned to him — but what truly made Brynden's eyes widen was seeing that the vault was completely empty.
There were no more documents, gold coins, armor or swords that House Tully had kept as treasure for generations.
"Who are you?" Brynden murmured, realizing there was no one else there, except for the man in front of him.
"If it isn't the famous Blackfish..." the person said, still with his back to Brynden, as if he knew exactly who he was without turning around.
"I felt you coming the moment you descended to this level."
"Who are you?" Brynden repeated, now even more suspicious.
He dropped the torch on the ground and gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands, ready for combat.
"And what happened here? Where is House Tully's wealth?" he asked, incredulous at the scene before him.
"It's being used to pay off a debt," the stranger replied, beginning to turn around.
"Debt? Enough games. Answer my questions!" Brynden demanded, his voice stern.
"You know your niece owes me a debt, Catelyn Stark? I'm taking House Tully's gold as payment and compensation for the moral damages your niece caused to a child in Winterfell, nothing more," said the man, turning fully and revealing his face.
It was Jon Snow.
Brynden recognized him immediately — he had heard many rumors about his appearance, especially the bizarre stories that called him a sorcerer in King's Landing.
But he never imagined finding him here, stealing from his family's vault.
How did he do it? Maybe the rumors about magic were more true than he wanted to believe.
"You're under arrest!" Brynden declared, advancing with his sword and stopping just a few inches from Jon, seeing that he was unarmed.
Jon raised an eyebrow at the threat, and in the next instant, a sword materialized in his hand.
He struck Brynden's blade with force, making him retreat, while at the same time positioning himself for battle.
Brynden's eyes widened when he saw the weapon in Jon's hands.
They had been empty just a second ago.
"That sword..." he murmured, recognizing it. It was the Stark family sword.
"Don't get sentimental. I only use it because it's fun to fight with," Jon said mockingly.
"And it also clearly shows my position regarding that family."
Brynden lunged without another word, overcome with fury.
A sword fight broke out in the middle of the empty vault.
Nothing there hindered their movements. The blades clashed loudly, echoing off the stone.
Jon seemed to be enjoying the exchange of blows, while Brynden proved to be an excellent warrior — though not better than Barristan Selmy, whom Jon had faced in combat on one of King's Landing's streets.
Even though Ice was much heavier and longer than Dark Sister, Jon used that to his advantage.
He applied his strength with precision, making Brynden feel the impact of each move.
It made him tremble, gradually losing his balance, until he was forced to retreat rapidly.
Jon began striking from all directions with ease, thanks to the power he had in wielding his sword, pushing his opponent more and more.
Until finally, Brynden gave way — he lost his sword in a moment of carelessness and nearly fell, stumbling several times before hitting his back against the wall, panting, eyes wide as he stared at Jon.
"You're a great warrior. But I'm better," Jon simply said.
"Do you know what you're doing? The Tully family will never let you leave after what happened!" Brynden threatened.
"You say that because you don't know me. Either way, it was a good fight," Jon replied, and Brynden barely had time to react before Jon stepped in and delivered an uppercut to his chin, knocking him out instantly.
After leaving the vault, obviously, Jon didn't want only Brynden to know he had been there.
He headed for the upper levels, walking stealthily, unnoticed by anyone.
He moved toward the Tully solar, entering with ease after silently taking down the guards.
The Maester was still inside, tending to Lord Hoster, checking his condition while preparing milk of the poppy and other remedies to ease the relentless cough.
A shadow appeared.
Lord Hoster kept coughing and taking the medicines, until a voice came from the darkness:
"That looks pretty bad," Jon commented.
Hoster looked, surprised, at the stranger who had entered without him even noticing.
Behind him, suddenly, a wine bottle shattered on its own, without visible cause.
The Maester simply collapsed, unconscious among the shards of glass.
Hoster, stunned, tried to rise from the bed, panicking.
"Guar— cough cough —guards! Guards!" he shouted between coughs, desperate.
He knew this man wasn't here with good intentions. But as he cried out, he realized no one could hear him.
"You can scream all you want. As you can see, no one will come," Jon remarked with chilling calm.
"Wh-who are you...? Did the Lannisters send an assassin?" he asked, gasping.
"Perhaps your age doesn't let you recognize me right away... but look closely at me. My appearance. And tell me: who do you think I look like?" Jon asked coldly.
He was far too famous to go unnoticed.
Black hair, violet eyes — a face whispered about in every tavern and hall in the Seven Kingdoms.
Hoster finally paid attention. And when he understood, his eyes widened in sheer alarm.
"Why... are you here?" Hoster murmured, before coughing again, staring at Jon with real fear.
He was defenseless, alone there, face-to-face with the man responsible for the king's death, for the imprisonment of Lord Stark, and for all the dark rumors swirling around his name — a name that seemed to challenge even the Seven Gods.
"Don't worry. I'm not here to kill you. But I want you to tell your daughter, Catelyn, that when she comes here, she should know I merely took back a little... because of what she did," Jon said.
"What did you do?" Hoster asked, his tone deeply alarmed.
"I cleaned out your entire treasury. Don't take offense. After all, you raised your daughter to hate bastards. So consider this my compensation for that," Jon said calmly.
"It can't be..." Hoster murmured, unable to believe what he was hearing.
But Jon didn't pay much attention to his reaction.
"Anyway... goodbye, Hoster Tully. I wanted you to know I was here. And to pass my message on to Catelyn," Jon concluded, making his provocation toward Lady Stark very clear — as if it were a game to him.
Then, he left the room, sealing the door with magic — in such a way that not even a Tully, with a key hidden inside the solar, could open it.
And even if they did, Jon would already be far from the castle.
Outside, the men were fewer now, sheltering from the rain in tents beyond the castle walls.
Jon moved discreetly through the gates, avoiding notice, cutting through the grounds and ignoring the tents.
He headed straight for the forest without anyone stopping him.
There, he found his dragon.
Montanha had woken again, while the man tried to scream — Winter looked quite irritated at having waited so long with that guy tied to her.
She almost roared, but restrained herself so as not to reveal her position.
"Hello, girl..." Jon said, knocking Montanha out once again.
"We're heading west now," Jon added, mounting the dragon.
Winter then spread her wings, took off through the rain, and quickly vanished into the skies, leaving the castle behind.
Hoster Tully, at last, managed to get out of the solar with difficulty, coughing, and soon found several servants and guards frightened — they had come across unconscious soldiers in the corridors and the solar door sealed by some unknown force, trying to open it in vain.
"Quick! We have an intruder in the castle! Check the vaults immediately!" Hoster shouted, desperate.
His men scattered quickly, searching for any sign of where Jon was — or at least going to check the vaults.
There, they found the door open... and Brynden Tully still unconscious after being knocked out, with the place completely empty.
Meanwhile, the rain was beginning to ease.
Jon had already crossed the western border with haste, flying on Winter toward his next two targets in the realm — two castles that, by dawn, would lie in ruin.
The Seven Kingdoms would awaken to an unforgettable mark upon one of their lands.
-------------Nexts Chapters ----------------
Chapter 105 - Another Targaryen Playing the Game of Thrones?
Chapter 110 - Braavos.
Chapter 120 - The Wall was Conquered.
Chapter 129 - Actions on Bear Island 03.
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