NOVEL NEXT Chapter 68: Shadows in the North
Chapter 68: Shadows in the North
Far to the north, Winterfell stood in quiet defiance of the changing winds. Its ancient walls and stark halls reflected the cold resilience of the Starks, a family rooted in honor and tradition. But the arrival of King Robert Baratheon disrupted the stillness, bringing with him the weight of the realm's politics and ambitions.
In the Great Hall, the Stark family hosted a lavish feast in Robert's honor. Laughter and music filled the room, but beneath the surface, tension brewed. The king had come not just as an old friend, but with a purpose that would alter the course of the realm.
At Riverrun, Ivar Sunblode sat in his solar, reading the latest reports from Lysa Blackthorne's spies. They painted a picture of a realm on the brink of upheaval.
"King Robert is officially naming Eddard Stark as Hand of the King," Lysa said, pacing the room. "The Lannisters are not pleased, but they're playing their part for now. Cersei is in Winterfell, smiling at the Starks, but our sources say she's already planning her next move."
"She's dangerous," Roland Emberhill added. "More dangerous than most give her credit for. If the Lannisters feel their power slipping, they won't hesitate to act."
"Which is exactly why Robert's decision puts us in a unique position," Ivar said, his voice calm but sharp. "A Stark Hand weakens the Lannisters' hold on the throne. It also strengthens the North's influence in the realm an influence we can use."
Timothy Sunrise leaned back in his chair, his grin wolfish. "You're thinking alliances, aren't you?"
"More than alliances," Ivar replied. "The North is fiercely loyal to its own, but if the realm fractures, they'll need allies outside their borders. We position ourselves as their natural partner strong, independent, and ready to support their cause if the Lannisters push too far."
"And if the North doesn't fracture?" Duncan Greenfield asked.
"Then we continue as we are," Ivar said. "This isn't about forcing their hand. It's about preparing for every outcome."
In Winterfell, the feast continued late into the night. At the high table, Robert Baratheon sat beside Eddard Stark, his booming laughter filling the hall as he recounted tales of their youth. Beside them, Queen Cersei Lannister watched with a thin smile, her eyes betraying her distaste for the northern setting and its people.
Sansa Stark, seated near her father, listened intently as Joffrey Baratheon spoke of King's Landing, his tone condescending. Arya, meanwhile, picked at her food, her sharp eyes observing everyone at the table.
Jon Snow sat at the far end of the hall, his presence as the Stark bastard an unspoken reminder of the family's complexities. Tyrion Lannister, ever the outsider, raised his goblet to Jon with a knowing smirk.
Across the room, whispers carried on the air. Lords and ladies speculated about the king's true intentions, the nature of the Lannisters' visit, and the implications for the realm.
"The king means to bring Eddard south," one lord said, his voice low. "A Stark in King's Landing it'll change the game entirely."
"Or endanger the North," another replied. "The Lannisters won't stand for this."
The next morning, as the sun rose over the frosted fields of Winterfell, Robert and Eddard walked along the battlements. The king's mood was somber, his laughter from the previous night replaced by a heavy silence.
"I never wanted this, Ned," Robert said finally, his voice carrying the weight of years.
"You never wanted the throne," Eddard replied, his tone matter-of-fact.
Robert snorted. "And yet here I am, wearing the damn thing. Jon Arryn's gone, and with him, the only man I trusted to keep the realm in one piece. Now it's all falling apart."
Eddard frowned. "The Lannisters?"
"They're part of it," Robert admitted. "Cersei's not Jon Arryn, that's for sure. And Tywin… Tywin's always looking for a way to control the board. But it's more than that. The realm's too big, too fractured. We've got cracks in the wall, and it's only a matter of time before it comes down."
"And you think I can hold it together?" Eddard asked.
"You're the only one I trust, Ned," Robert said, his gaze earnest. "You're the only one who'll do what's right, not what's easy. That's why I need you as Hand."
Eddard was silent for a long moment, his mind wrestling with the weight of the offer. Finally, he said, "I'll think on it."
Robert clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't think too long. The realm can't wait."
At Riverrun, Ivar stood atop the battlements, gazing out over the Riverlands. The reports from Winterfell weighed heavily on his mind. The realm was changing, and with it came both opportunity and danger.
Lysa joined him, her expression thoughtful. "Do you think Eddard Stark will take the position?"
"He will," Ivar said. "He's an honorable man, and Robert knows how to use that to his advantage. But honor alone won't protect him in King's Landing. The Lannisters will see to that."
"And what about us?" Lysa asked.
"We stay the course," Ivar said. "Strengthen our position, build our alliances, and prepare for the day the realm fractures. Because when it does, the Riverlands will be ready to seize what others cannot."
In the shadows of Winterfell, Varys moved unseen, his web of informants gathering whispers and secrets. The Spider knew the winds of change were blowing, and he worked tirelessly to ensure he remained ahead of the storm.
The realm was a game of pieces, and the board was shifting.
For Ivar Sunblode, the next move was clear. The Riverlands had risen from the ashes, but their survival depended on foresight and preparation. As the shadows lengthened over Winterfell and whispers of betrayal spread through King's Landing, Ivar sharpened his mind for the battles yet to come.
The winds of change were blowing, and no one not even the lion, the wolf, or the stag could escape their reach.