"You're saying Riverrun has fallen into enemy hands?"
Tywin Lannister's voice was calm, but the tension beneath it was unmistakable.
"Yes… my lord."
Ser Jaremy Frey spoke weakly, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. Dust and dried blood covered his torn surcoat, and the Twin Towers sigil of House Frey was barely visible beneath the grime.
The chamber fell silent.
Around the long table stood many of the most powerful commanders and nobles of the Westerlands. They had been summoned here by Tywin to discuss the war's progress.
Now, they listened intently as the battered Frey knight reported the disaster.
The hearth crackled quietly in the background.
The flickering firelight painted everyone's faces in shades of red and orange, giving them an almost demonic appearance.
Tywin's expression remained unreadable.
But inside, he was furious.
For weeks he had remained at the Green Fork, waiting for the young Stark commander to march south so he could crush him.
Instead, the only news he received was catastrophe.
First Riverrun was under threat.
And now—
Riverrun had fallen.
"How is that even possible?" demanded Ser Harys Swyft, his voice trembling with disbelief.
"Wasn't Riverrun supposed to be impregnable?"
Ser Harys was an old man whose appearance inspired little confidence. His chinless face sagged with age, his scalp was nearly bald, and the few white whiskers on his face gave him a ridiculous look.
Tyrion Lannister felt a surge of irritation just looking at him.
Ever since the news of Jaime's defeat had arrived, this cowardly old knight had been whispering accusations and spreading fear.
His greatest accomplishment in life was marrying his daughter to Kevan Lannister, securing a connection with the powerful Lannister family.
Aside from that…
He had achieved nothing.
Ser Kevan spoke calmly.
"There was little they could have done."
"Although Lord Walder may have grown complacent, the enemy's plan was extremely cunning."
Little Weasel—Jaremy Frey—nodded miserably.
"My lords… our defenses were not weak."
"We had one thousand elite soldiers stationed in both the West River Castle and the East Keep."
"In addition, the large camp outside the East Keep contained mercenaries, conscripted farmers, and free knights."
"In total, we had around four thousand men."
These forces had been prepared specifically to resist the Stark army.
However…
"The Starks had no ships," Jaremy continued.
"And our scouts reported no approaching army."
"Because of this… we lowered our guard."
He swallowed nervously.
"Earlier, we heard Riverrun was under siege. At the same time, a knight named Marq Piper had begun harassing Lannister supply lines with a small group."
"But he only had a few dozen men."
"So when he arrived…"
"We believed Riverrun was already surrounded."
"And our priority became capturing him."
Tyrion nearly laughed.
The Freys claimed they had been preparing to resist the Starks.
Yet everyone knew House Frey's loyalty was questionable.
Even Tywin had assumed the Freys would eventually side with the Lannisters.
But it seemed their famed caution had finally failed them.
Tywin's voice cut through the room.
"Where were your scouts?"
His eyes gleamed coldly in the firelight.
"Did they see nothing?"
Jaremy hesitated.
"Our scouts… were limited."
"Most of them were stationed near the East Keep."
"We did not expect an attack from the West River."
"And the few scouts who returned reported nothing unusual."
"Useless."
Tywin spat the word like poison.
He glanced around the chamber.
At that moment, he missed two particular men.
Ser Gregor Clegane—the Mountain.
And Ser Amory Lorch.
Men like them were rare.
Savage, ruthless hounds that could be unleashed upon enemies.
If Gregor had been present, he would have already suggested executing a few Frey scouts as an example.
Tywin's hatred deepened.
If Riverrun truly fell…
Then the Northern army would have a clear path south.
Ser Kevan leaned forward.
"You mentioned that the enemy had inside help and launched a night attack."
"Yes."
Jaremy nodded wearily.
"Marq Piper and several mercenaries were actually collaborators."
"They arrived carrying a handwritten letter from Lord Hoster Tully, pretending to be desperate refugees."
"My father believed Ser Jaime's attack had already broken Riverrun."
"So he did not suspect anything."
He lowered his head.
"That night…"
"Everything collapsed."
"One mercenary leader—called Bluebeard—killed several gate guards and opened a side gate."
"Moments later, the enemy army stormed inside."
"The attack came from two directions."
"Enemy cavalry quickly seized West River Castle."
"At the same time, soldiers from Seagard arrived in small boats."
"They crossed the river and captured the River Gate Tower."
"Within moments… Riverrun was in chaos."
Jaremy's voice trembled.
"I was stationed at the East Keep."
"We saw flames rising from the west."
"Catapults roared."
"But we couldn't send reinforcements."
"The arch bridge became a battlefield."
"Seagard soldiers fought like madmen."
"After the west fell… the east was doomed."
He sighed bitterly.
"The men in the outer camp were useless."
"The mercenaries were only interested in looting."
"The farmers fled as soon as they heard the alarm."
Ser Kevan cursed.
"Damn mercenaries."
"Men who fight for gold will always follow their purses."
"I warned Jaime about relying on them."
"What about Lord Walder Frey?" Tywin asked coldly.
"He should be captured."
"My eldest brother as well."
"But Hosdton and Black Walder are almost certainly dead."
Tyrion snorted inwardly.
Perhaps it was poetic justice.
Walder Frey had spent his entire life being cautious and opportunistic.
Yet in the end…
His fortress had been stolen through deception.
Jaremy continued his report.
"The East Keep soon fell as well."
"We tried forming a longspear formation at the inner gate."
"But enemy heavy infantry arrived from the west."
"They fought in disciplined columns."
"I saw banners from many houses."
"House Mallister."
"House Royce of Runestone."
"And warriors from the Claw Peninsula."
"But the most terrifying figure…"
Jaremy hesitated.
"The young commander leading them."
"He was tall… wild… like a bloodthirsty giant."
"I did not fight him personally."
"But I heard Black Walder died by his hand."
"And… it seems Ser Jaime was ambushed by him as well."
A nobleman named Flemond clenched his fists.
"It must be him."
"My father also died beneath Riverrun."
"Jason Mallister seized our tower."
"And Bronze Yohn Royce fought alongside him."
Tyrion muttered quietly.
"Runestone… Claw Peninsula… Seagard…"
All of those territories were distant and difficult to conquer.
The Mountains of the Moon blocked large armies.
The Claw Peninsula was a swampy wasteland perfect for guerrilla warfare.
Even the Lannisters would struggle to campaign there.
Tywin finally raised his hand.
"Enough."
"Ser Jaremy, you may go and rest."
The exhausted Frey knight bowed deeply before leaving.
But before exiting, he cried out:
"Lord Tywin… only you can save Riverrun!"
Then he disappeared.
The room fell silent again.
Ser Harys Swyft sighed dramatically.
"This is disastrous."
"Ser Jaime is gravely wounded."
"The siege army has collapsed."
"And Riverrun is lost."
"We are in dire straits."
Ser Adam Marbrand spoke calmly.
"Those facts are already known."
"The real question is…"
"What should we do next?"
Ser Harys cleared his throat.
"In my opinion…"
"Perhaps we should seek peace."
The room erupted into murmurs.
Jaime was wounded.
The Lannister army was scattered.
If the Starks advanced south, the Lannister supply lines could be cut.
Even Casterly Rock might be threatened.
"Perhaps the war is already lost."
"Peace negotiations may be our best option."
Tyrion suddenly drained his goblet.
Then he hurled it across the room.
The cup shattered loudly.
"Peace?"
He laughed bitterly.
"Peace is exactly what brought us to this situation."
"We might negotiate with the Stark boy."
"But what about the others?"
"What about the ambitious bastard claiming his birthright?"
"And what about Stannis Baratheon?"
He leaned forward.
"The Iron Throne cannot hold two kings."
"And let us not forget…"
"My dear nephew Joffrey already decorated the Red Keep with Eddard Stark's head."
"Do you think the Starks will forgive that?"
The room went quiet again.
Tywin finally stood.
His voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Enough."
"Everyone leave."
Then he pointed.
"Tyrion. Stay."
"Kevan. You stay as well."
The rest of the nobles quickly departed.
Tyrion raised an eyebrow.
Such treatment was unprecedented.
Kevan poured wine.
Tywin handed his untouched goblet to Tyrion.
"Drink."
Tyrion obeyed.
Then Tywin spoke slowly.
"The situation is not as hopeless as it seems."
"If Eddard Stark were still alive…"
"We could have used him to negotiate peace."
"But Joffrey ruined that opportunity."
Tyrion sighed.
"He's still a child."
"Children often do foolish things."
Tywin looked at him coldly.
"Yes."
"Fortunately you never married a prostitute."
Tyrion clenched his jaw but said nothing.
Tywin continued.
"Our kingdom is now filled with kings."
"Renly has crowned himself at Storm's End."
"Balon Greyjoy rules the Iron Islands."
"Joffrey sits in King's Landing."
"And the bastard blacksmith…"
"Claims he is the rightful heir."
Kevan sighed.
"The realm is tearing itself apart."
Tyrion smirked.
"So many kings."
"The King in the Red Keep."
"The King of the Iron Islands."
"The King at Storm's End."
"And perhaps the King in the North as well."
Tywin slammed his hand on the table.
"Enough."
"I will not allow our cause to collapse."
He looked toward the south.
"Cersei commands us to march to King's Landing."
"To defend the capital from Renly and his allies."
Tyrion frowned.
"King's Landing has almost no army."
"Only the Gold Cloaks."
"Does Joffrey know that?"
Tywin shook his head.
"Cersei refuses to tell him."
"Otherwise he would lead the army himself."
Tyrion chuckled darkly.
"If the Gold Cloaks leave the city…"
"Then Stannis Baratheon will strike from Dragonstone."
Tywin studied his son.
"Tyrion."
"I once believed you were born only to be a jester."
"It appears I was wrong."
Tyrion bowed slightly.
"I'll take that as a compliment, Father."
But even as they spoke…
One truth remained clear.
Across Westeros—
Kings were rising everywhere.
And the war had only just begun.
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