Game of thrones: the Sunblode rise

Chapter 14: A Seat Among Lords

The great hall of Riverrun loomed before Ivar as his party approached on horseback. Banners of the Tully fish fluttered in the cool breeze, their blue and red vibrant against the stone walls of the castle. Lords and emissaries from across the Riverlands had gathered, summoned by Lord Hoster Tully to discuss the growing unrest and the region's precarious future.

Ivar dismounted near the gates, adjusting the dark crimson cloak that bore the sigil of House Sunblode: a golden sun half-shadowed, its rays tipped with blood. The design was both elegant and foreboding, much like the man who wore it. Timothy Sunrise fell into step beside him, his usual smirk replaced with a look of quiet readiness.

"Imposing, isn't it?" Timothy murmured as they passed through the gates, his eyes flicking to the looming towers of Riverrun.

"It's meant to be," Ivar replied. "A reminder of Tully power. But banners and walls don't win wars—people do. And we're here to ensure those people look to us."

Inside, the castle's great hall was alive with the hum of conversation and the occasional clink of goblets. Lords and knights filled the room, their faces ranging from wary to curious as they noticed Ivar's arrival. Whispers followed him as he crossed the hall, his dark hair and commanding presence drawing attention.

"That's the one who burned the Ironborn ships…"

"…Sunblode, from the Isle. Ruthless, they say."

Timothy grinned at the murmurs. "You're already famous, my lord."

Ivar's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Fame is a double-edged sword. Let's make sure it cuts in our favor."

At the far end of the hall, Lord Hoster Tully sat in a high-backed chair adorned with carvings of leaping fish. His face, lined with age and responsibility, softened into a diplomatic smile as Ivar approached. Beside him stood his son, Edmure Tully, and his brother, Brynden "Blackfish" Tully, whose sharp eyes appraised Ivar with quiet intensity.

"Lord Sunblode," Hoster greeted, rising from his seat. "Welcome to Riverrun. Your efforts in defending the Riverlands have not gone unnoticed."

"I am honored to stand among the lords of the Riverlands," Ivar replied, bowing slightly. "And I am glad to contribute to our shared prosperity and security."

"Shared prosperity…" Brynden murmured, his tone laced with skepticism. "A fine phrase, but one that often hides ambition."

Ivar met Brynden's gaze, his own steady and unflinching. "Ambition is not a sin, Lord Brynden, so long as it serves the greater good."

Hoster cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Come, Lord Sunblode. The council is about to begin."

The lords of the Riverlands gathered around a long table, their faces reflecting the weight of their respective burdens. Among them were Walder Frey, his sharp features and calculating gaze betraying his perpetual scheming; Tytos Blackwood, his demeanor stern and dignified; and Jonos Bracken, whose presence carried an air of barely restrained aggression.

Hoster began the meeting with a brief address, speaking of unity and the need to confront the region's challenges. The lords murmured their agreement, but it was clear that unity was easier said than achieved.

"The Ironborn are a threat," Hoster said, glancing toward Ivar. "But thanks to the efforts of Lord Sunblode, they've been dealt a significant blow."

Walder Frey leaned forward, his voice dripping with false charm. "And a costly one, no doubt. Burning ships is all well and good, but can you keep the Ironborn at bay for long, Lord Sunblode?"

Ivar inclined his head slightly. "We can—and we will. The Ironborn thrive on fear and disorganization. By uniting our forces and fortifying our coasts, we can break their power entirely."

"Fortify the coasts, you say?" Jonos Bracken interjected, his tone edged with sarcasm. "Easy for you to suggest, sitting safe on your little island. What about the rest of us, who bear the brunt of these raids?"

"The rest of you," Ivar said coolly, "would bear less of the brunt if you worked together instead of fighting among yourselves. How many of your soldiers have died in border skirmishes that could have been used to defend against real threats?"

Tytos Blackwood frowned but nodded reluctantly. "He has a point. Our feud has weakened both our houses. Perhaps it is time to reconsider our priorities."

Jonos scowled but said nothing, his fists tightening on the table.

Hoster seized the opportunity to steer the conversation. "If we are to protect the Riverlands, we must set aside old grievances. Lord Sunblode's actions have proven his commitment to our shared cause. I propose we formalize an alliance."

An uneasy silence fell over the room as the lords exchanged glances.

"And what would this alliance entail?" Walder Frey asked, his voice sly.

Ivar spoke before Hoster could respond. "It would entail cooperation—military, economic, and strategic. The Riverlands are a patchwork of divided houses, each vulnerable on its own. But together, we could form a network strong enough to repel any threat, whether it comes from the Ironborn, the Lannisters, or anyone else."

"Fine words," Jonos said, his tone dripping with doubt. "But words won't feed my people or rebuild my lands. What exactly are you offering, Lord Sunblode?"

"Trade," Ivar said simply. "House Sunblode has already established routes that bring wealth and goods to the Riverlands. If you join this alliance, you'll gain access to those routes, as well as our protection."

"And what do you gain?" Walder Frey asked, his gaze narrowing.

"Stability," Ivar replied. "A stronger Riverlands benefits us all. But more importantly, it ensures that the threats beyond our borders are dealt with before they reach our lands."

Brynden Blackfish, who had remained silent until now, spoke up. "And if someone doesn't want to join this alliance? What then?"

Ivar met his gaze evenly. "That would be… unfortunate. But I believe that once they see the benefits of cooperation, they'll come around."

Brynden's lips quirked into a faint smile. "You're a dangerous man, Lord Sunblode. But perhaps that's what we need."

Hoster stood, signaling the end of the discussion. "Let us take time to consider what has been said. The decisions we make here will shape the future of the Riverlands. I trust we will choose wisely."

After the council dispersed, Ivar lingered in the hall, watching as the lords departed in clusters. Timothy approached, his smirk firmly in place.

"You handled that well," Timothy said. "Though I think you scared a few of them."

"Good," Ivar said. "Fear can be as effective as loyalty—sometimes more so."

"And the alliance?"

"It will happen," Ivar said confidently. "The Tullys need it to solidify their position, and the others will follow if they see it as the path of least resistance."

"And if they don't?"

Ivar's eyes hardened. "Then we'll remind them why resistance is futile."

Timothy chuckled. "You really do think of everything."

"Not everything," Ivar admitted. "But enough to stay ahead."

As they left the hall, the whispers of the other lords followed them, a quiet chorus of curiosity and caution. Ivar Sunblode was no longer just a minor lord from a forgotten isle. He was a force to be reckoned with—a rising sun casting long shadows across the Riverlands.