"A Shield in the Storm: The Captain’s Oath"

POV: Hoster Tully, Eddard Stark, Robert Baratheon

The Great Hall of Riverrun – The Price of Alliance

POV: Lord Hoster Tully

Lord Hoster Tully sat upon his high seat, his fingers drumming against the carved wood. The hall was filled with men—lords, knights, bannermen—but it was the three standing before him that held his full attention.

Eddard Stark. Robert Baratheon. Jon Arryn.

The rebellion had come to his doorstep, and now it demanded his answer.

"The Riverlands are not yet in open war," he said at last, his voice carrying the weight of decades ruling his house. "But we are no friends of the Mad King."

Robert Baratheon, ever the warrior, folded his arms. "Then ride with us, Lord Tully. We'll drown the king in his own blood before he burns another man alive."

Hoster's lips thinned. "Your cause is just, Lord Robert. But war is not won by justice alone. My house stands between the North and the Stormlands. If I declare openly, the Crown will turn its wrath upon us first."

Jon Arryn, the wise old falcon, inclined his head. "That is why we are here. Together, we can break the Crown's hold on the realm. But we need Riverrun."

Hoster exhaled through his nose. The Riverlands had known war before—his grandfather had fought in the Dance of Dragons, his father in the Blackfyre Rebellions. The Riverlands bled in every conflict, standing in the middle of the storm.

Was he willing to do the same?

His eyes flickered to Eddard Stark. The young wolf was calm, composed. The North had already committed.

And Hoster Tully had daughters to think of.

His gaze shifted to the side, where Catelyn and Lysa stood in silence. Catelyn's face betrayed little, but he knew she was watching Eddard closely.

A marriage.

It had been planned for Brandon Stark, the fiery elder son, before Aerys had burned him alive. Now, Eddard stood in his place.

Hoster turned back to Jon Arryn. "And what of my daughters?"

Jon met his gaze evenly. "Eddard will take Lady Catelyn as his wife, sealing the North to your cause. And Lysa…" He hesitated. "Lysa will wed my heir."

Lysa stiffened beside Catelyn.

Hoster pressed his lips together. It was not the match she had wanted. She had grown close to Petyr Baelish, that foolish boy he had fostered, but she was a Tully. Her duty was to the family, not her heart.

He turned to Robert. "And what of you, Lord Baratheon?"

Robert smiled. "I will wed Lyanna Stark, as was always planned."

Silence fell in the hall.

Eddard shifted beside him, and Hoster could see it—the quiet unease in his gray eyes.

"Lyanna is missing," Eddard said slowly. "Taken by Rhaegar."

Robert's jaw tightened. "Stolen by Rhaegar." His voice was firm, but his fists clenched. "And I will have her back."

Hoster sighed. "Love is a sweet thing, Lord Robert. But war is a bitter price to pay for it."

Robert's blue eyes blazed. "It's not just about love, Lord Tully. It's about vengeance."

Hoster studied him. Robert Baratheon had the making of a king in him, but he was not a politician. He was fire and fury, not cold calculation.

Still, a king needed passion. And war needed men willing to die for it.

"I will not deny you," Hoster said finally. "The Riverlands will fight."

A great exhale rippled through the hall.

The rebellion had gained another army.

---

The Lord of Winterfell – Bound by Duty

POV: Eddard Stark

Eddard sat in his chambers, his thoughts restless.

Tomorrow, he would be wed.

His brother had been meant for Catelyn. Not him.

Brandon had been fire, had burned bright. He had laughed louder, lived wilder, and now he was dead.

And Eddard had to take his place.

He stared into the small hearth, the flames casting shadows against the stone walls. Was this what it meant to be a Stark? To do what must be done, no matter how heavy the burden?

The door creaked open.

Catelyn Tully stepped inside.

They had barely spoken since the betrothal was set. She was beautiful, but that was not what unsettled him. It was her eyes. The way she studied him, searching for something she had lost.

She was still mourning Brandon.

"I did not wish to disturb you," she said softly.

"You are not unwelcome."

She hesitated, then sat across from him. "I will be a good wife to you, Lord Stark."

He nodded. "And I will be a good husband."

A silence stretched between them.

Catelyn lowered her gaze. "I will not ask if you love another."

He blinked. "Why would you?"

Her voice was steady. "Because you have the look of a man who does."

Eddard swallowed. Lyanna's face flashed in his mind.

He looked away. "Love is not always meant for marriage."

She studied him a moment longer, then nodded.

And so, it was settled.

---

The Storm Lord – The Making of a King

POV: Robert Baratheon

Robert drank deep from his cup, letting the ale burn his throat. The hall was alive with celebration. The North and Riverlands were united. The rebellion was truly born.

But he felt no joy.

His heart was still in the past.

Lyanna.

She should have been here. He should have been wed to her, should have been making her laugh, dancing with her in the firelight. Instead, she was in Rhaegar's hands.

A hand clamped his shoulder.

Jon Arryn sat beside him, his expression calm. "You look troubled."

Robert scoffed. "I'm drinking. That's not troubled, old man."

Jon did not smile. "The war is larger than your love for Lyanna."

Robert's jaw tightened. "Is it?"

Jon's gaze did not waver. "It must be."

Robert downed the rest of his ale, slamming the cup onto the table. "I will win this war, Jon. For Lyanna. For the realm."

Jon sighed. "Then act like it."

Robert scowled, but the words stayed with him.

And as the night wore on, he found himself wondering—

When I take back Lyanna, when Rhaegar is dead… will the war truly be over?

---

The Dawn of Rebellion

With House Tully's banners unfurled, the Riverlands joined the war.

The pieces were moving.

And soon, the realm would bleed.