Chapter 54: A Promise Well Kept—

  I led the Ironborn into Winterfell like trophies, their ons fiscated, their heads bowed i. Yara Greyjoy walked he front of her people, shoulders tense, but her lifted defiantly. The snow fell lightly around us, gathering on the courtyard’s cobblestones and on their cloaks. A silence resent in the air, marred only by the sound of our footfalls and the Ironborn’s occasional grumbles.

  Viserion was taking short leaps, fpping her wings to carry her into the air briefly before waiting for the Ironborns to catch up. When they did, she leaped again. Like that, roached Winterfell.

  Townsfold and Stark soldiers lihe courtyard, f a corridor of wary stares and occasional murmurs. Some whispered my her with awe, rese, or pin fusion. I breathed in, sav the mixture of tension and fasation that g to the air.

  This recisely what I wanted. A spectacle, proof of my power and influence, even oark’s home turf. I was starting to like the stares.

  A man in the crowd spat at one of Yara’s men, hurling curses about burned farms and stolen livestock. “Die, filthy bastards!” The Ironborn responded with a snarl, but a swift blow from a Stark soldier silenced him. The soldier gnced my way, uain if I’d approve. I gave him a small nod. Let them see that disrespect won’t be tolerated—by me or by these Northerners now ag under my will.

  “Careful,” I drawled from atop Viserion, looking at Yara sideways. “Your meting rowdy. Would be a shame if they forced my hand.”

  She scowled, but the edges of her mouth twitched, betraying her internal turmoil. “You’re parading them like dogs,” she hissed. “Don’t expect me to be grateful.”

  I merely shrugged. “Them? You too. At least all of you are still breathing, so don’t pin just yet.”

  “We surrendered. You won’t kill us,” she said, and I might have sidered it if she was begging rather than g. I chuckled, making her growl at me. She wao snap back, I could see it in her eyes, but she held her tongue. She knew her men’s lives dangled by a thin thread—a thread I trolled.

  As roached the castle gate, Sansa and Bran appeared he entrance, fnked by a handful of soldiers. Ri peeked out from behind them, wide-eyed.

  I met their eyes, careful to only spare a sed on Sansa. The courtyard opened into a broad space, watchful northerners f a loose semicircle. Snow ched beh Viserion’s feet as she nded again, and I jumped down, patting her scales. “Go rest somewhere,” I said, gesturing for the Stark soldiers to step forward.

  “At your and,” one of them said.

  “Bind them,” I said, voice resonating in the hush. “We’ll house them in the dungeons for now. If they resist, you may feel free to knock seo them.”

  A wave of men—some wearing Stark sigils, others brandishing axes and some on everyday on—stepped up. Grunts and curses filled the air as the prisoners were shoved to their knees, hands bound behind their backs. A few hissed in anger, one even spitting at the ground. The soldiers repaid them in kind with hilt-strikes and heavy fists.

  Yara gred at me. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

  I offered a slow, idle smile. “Enjoy is a strong word, princess. I just find it useful.” My gaze swept the courtyard, meeting the eyes of more than a few Northerners. I let them see my posure, my cim to authority. Remember this day, I thought, the day a Targaryen showed mercy to you and cruelty to your enemies. Let’s see how true the phrase ‘The North Remembers’ is.

  Bran, watg from his vantage point, wore a troubled look. He noticed me notig him, and his lips parted as if to speak. But no words came. Instead, Sansa eased forward, noddihanks, trying to i with me again. Her expression was half admiration but also a flicker of uainty. She reized the power in my dispy, and I suspected she wasirely fortable with it.

  Yara, now tied, stepped closer to me, her voice low. “You think this makes you the King in the North? Parading men in the snow?”

  I held her gaze. “Are you stupid? I don’t o be king of the North. I’m King of the Realm. Dorne backs me, as does the Reach. The North has only retly joined me too. Don’t try to insult me, woman, it will not end well.”

  We locked eyes. An exge more heated than any physical skirmish passed between us. At that moment, I sensed a grudging respect brewing in her as she looked away, even if she’d never admit it. Good. Let her stew in it.

  “Alright, everyone,” I turned away from her and faced the crowd. They’d been waiting for me to speak. “I’ve defeated and captured the Ironborn army. Noromised, we should move into the show event.”

  When my words filled the open yard, the mood grew heavier and more custrophobic. Tied well and uhe watch of a pack of Stark soldiers and many more on northern people, Yara and her men stood stiffly.

  I gestured for Yara, ign her huff of annoyance. A hush fell as I addressed her. “Yara Grejoy, the so-called ‘Iron-Princess’ attacked Winterfell, to support her brother and help him hold it.”

  “I did not!” She shouted, “I-”

  “Silence!” My ha flying, and her right cheek went red, face whipping to the side. Her eyes were wide, full of shod rage. Some Ironborn shouted in response, and two northern soldiers smmed the end of their spears into their heads. I smiled. “Now, tell me which four of your mehe worst. The real criminals. The rapers, the child-killers, the vile scum. We have a request from the local folk.”

  She bristled, gring at me. “I’m not betraying my men. If you think that I—”

  I raised a brow. “Do you think they’d do the same for you? They burn, they rape, they pilge as they please. You truly believe they’re loyal to you? A woman?” I took a step closer, letting my voice drop. “Or perhaps you’d rather your entire group suffer the same fiery fate? Four is better than all, Princess.”

  Her jaw ched, but she said nothing. I saw her struggling, bang her fierce Ironborn pride with the grim reality.

  “Fuck,” she went silent and then nudged her to a man, “Darron,” she said, and the man stiffehen she spat three more names like curses. “Torrek, Harlon, and Voryn.” She turned her head bae. “There. Satisfied?”

  “Not yet,” I the soldiers, and they moved to grab the four of them. I kept my expression serious now. I half-turoward the Stark children, where I spotted that old man from earlier, the one whose family had been ruined. “Bring your daughters here,” I told him, my tone carrying a note of finality. “I’ve found four bodies for them. Let them have their vengean the mahey see fit.”

  Bran was not far away, being carried by Hodor. At first, he said nothing, but when our eyes met, he looked at the floor with a distant look. A faint cough brought Maester Luwin forward, and the old man fiddled nervously with his of office.

  “My lord,” the maester said softly, turning to Bran, “we should sider merd justice both. These men… perhaps a swift trial, or—”

  Bran lifted his gaze, a frown creasing his brow. “Maester Luwin, we must address the people’s needs. If… if I object, would it even matter?” He goward me, then at Sansa, who quietly observed behind him.

  I withheld a ent. Let them speak openly. Let them wrestle with the weight of their own nds, I thought. I’m simply fulfilling my promise. The tension in the open yard was dense, as though everyone was holding their breath, waiting for Bran’s call.

  The young Stark’s eyes flicked to me briefly, a glimmer of uainty in them. Perhaps he wondered if giving me so mufluence was wise. Yet how could he deny the results of my as? The Ironborn had been repelled, Theon was locked away, and now this father and his daughters would get a twisted measure of justice.

  Bran exhaled. “The decision has already been made earlier, I’m not going to go against it. Sometimes,” he began, his voice subdued, “harsh decisions are necessary. I… I don’t like it. But if it spares more people from the Ironborn’s cruelty, then so be it.”

  A small flicker of satisfa ignited within me. He’s learning, I his was the North’s future. A boy forced to grow up too soon, weighed down by moral quandaries. The realm shaped us all in such ways. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to bee some tree spirit in this world.

  Maester Luwin’s face flickered with disfort. His rattled softly as he bowed his head, acquiesg. The old man’s eyes showed emotions of burden and resignation.

  The father had already left at my order, he hadn’t waited for Bran’s permission to gather his daughters and prepare them for a meeting with their tormentors. The Starks braced themselves for the spectacle of vengeance.

  *****

  A hush settled over Winterfell’s courtyard, the first fkes of early snow drifting onto the onlookers as the four captured Ironborn were dragged forward.

  Word of the impending execution had spread swiftly—merts, farmers, and soldiers alike had gathered in a semicircle, torches bzie the afternoon light. The hiss and crackle of fmes provided a low backdrop for the murmurs and harsh whispers rippling through the crowd.

  Bran and Sansa stood off to one side, fnked by loyal Stark guards. Bran’s face was cast solemn, his brow furrowed; Sansa’s eyes darted between the prisoners and the men and women assembled. Her lips formed a tense line, betraying her growing disfort. She caught sight of Yara, standihe front, bound at the wrists.

  The Ironborn princess’s remained lifted in defiance, but tension radiated from her ched jaw. Her people, in the meantime, were gring at her more than at me.

  Ironborn would have preferred to die by dragohan be humiliated like this.

  Viserys strode into the open space, cloak dragging across the packed snow. A set of stakes and rough-hewn timbers formed an impromptu ptform at the ter of the courtyard. The crowd parted automatically, some stepping back warily as though the Targaryen’s very presence demanded spabsp;

  Yara observed it all. Clearly, they’re scared of him too. So what is he doing here? How is there a dragon? Why is a Targaryen helping the Starks?

  All her thoughts came to a halt as her eyes moved to the four Ironborn forced to their knees, eae bound, bruised, and caked in dried blood from earlier skirmishes. Northern soldiers prodded them forward, ign the men’s curses and spitting.

  Someone in the crowd whispered, “The Targaryen’s out for blood… I heard three burnt bodies were found near Winterfell, and now he’s going to kill four more. For… for us.”

  “Aye. Served them right. But let’s see how far this goes.”

  Yara was e these fools who were cowards hiding behind a dragon. If not for that silver-haired bastard… She grumbled.

  “I’m here, m’lord- no, Yrace,” spoke a grieving farmer, his face still drawn tight with sorrow. He stepped out from the masses, apanied by his two daughters. They g to each other, trembling in the cold. Their eyes were puffy and haunted, as though they had already witoo many horrors. Viserys beed them forward with a sweep of his arm.

  “You have your vengeaoday. These four Ironborn—” He gestured at the prisoners— “represent the men whed you. Let Winterfell see that no crime against the Noes unpunished. No crime in my seven kingdoms goes unpunished.”

  The girls hovered uainly, exging frightened gnces. One soldier pced a small on into the eldest daughter’s shaking hand: a blunt axe with the Stark sigil carved into the handle. She hesitated, her knuckles whitening on the wooden shaft, tears streaming silently down her cheeks.

  “This is… cruel,” Sansa said.

  “You agreed to it. So did I.” Bran sighed.

  Ah, fuck, Yara heon’s men just had to go raping, huh? Things might have been easier to handle if not for that. It was all her father’s fault, truth be told, to put the most rowdy Ironborn in Theon’s ship.

  A wave of restless energy passed through the crowd. Even those hungry for retribution couldn’t help but feel a shiver of u the spectacle. Yara, forced to observe, groueeth in silent rage. The Ironborn, kneeling in the snow, spat curses at the onlookers, and the her. Her men… they who’d travelled far with her, looked at her with hateful eyes for she’d betrayed them.

  One of the Ironborn Prisoners snarled, “Cowards! All of you! We’d have fought you fairly if not for that damned dragon—”

  His words cut off in a strangled cry as one of the daughters raised the axe. With a trembling gasp, she brought it down. Blood went flying. The blow was messy, g the practiced edge of a seasoned soldier. Blood spattered the snow, and she stumbled back, chest heaving.

  A collective gasp rose from the crowd—some recoiled, others shouted encement. Viserys stepped forward, pg a steadying hand on the sed daughter’s shoulder, guiding her with a ge firm push toward another captive. “It’s okay. Do it, take all yer out,” he said. The sed girl’s eyes were red with tears, but she set her jaw and took the handle of a soldier’s spear.

  The subsequent moments blurred into a brutal show of retribution and screams. Each daughter struck out, raw grief fueling their strikes, the crowd’s cries cresdoing in a ragged unity of wrath and sorrow. Some watchers turned away, uo bear the sight. Others pressed in, eager for every detail of Irony.

  Bran stood motionless, forced to withe savage finality of what he’d allowed. Sansa grasped the edge of her cloak, lips parted in shock, tears pooling in her eyes. Yet her uttered a word to halt the brutality, forced by the knowledge that their people demanded blood for blood.

  Whe of the four Ironborn prisoners colpsed in the scarlet-stained snow, the men cheered. The grieving father gathered his daughters in his arms, and they wept untrolbly. Viserys let the cheers rise, letting every eye see the cost of defying itting crime in his realm—and the power he held oips of his fingers.

  Amid this all, Yara Greyjoy ched her fists behind her back, her sm stare locked on Viserys. The st savage blow had shattered any lingering illusions that this was a mere show. The reality of their defeat—of her men’s utter helplessness—settled like a bitter stone in her gut. I’ll make him pay for this… I definitely will.

  “That is it, everyone,” Viserys said and turned slowly, cloak brushing the ground. He cast a lingering g Bran and Sansa, reading their reas as he addressed the soldiers. “Burn the bodies and hang them in front of the gate. Lock the rest of them, except for the princess. Seo my room a few hours ter.”

  “As you and!” A group of guards replied together.

  Then, with an almal posure, he strode away from the crimson snow, leaving the courtyard in a mix of emotions from people.

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