Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 251 The Wedding - Fish, Wolf, and Eagle

Three thousand Ironborn warriors, led by Euron Greyjoy, set sail like arrows from the gloomy harbor of Pyke Isle.

Their longships, like a horde of sea monsters, cleaved through the dark green waves of Ironman's Bay and sailed eastward. The fleet eventually landed at Salt Field in the Riverlands, where the Ironmen roared as they stepped ashore, their axe blades gleaming in the dim light, instantly shattering the town's tranquility.

After a brief reorganization, this formidable army changed horses and marched along the wide river road. They were like a black torrent of iron, cold and menacing, kicking up clouds of dust along the way. The mighty column passed by the towering walls of Riverrun, where the Tully family guards on the battlements watched nervously as this uninvited and unsettling force passed by their doorstep.

Upon entering the valley, the majestic and precipitous Bright Moon Mountains stood like a natural barrier, forcing Euron's party to abandon the main road and plunge into rugged mountain paths and narrow passes.

Here, marching became extremely difficult, and the column snaked its way through the rocky, windswept valleys.

Finally, the Blood Gate, renowned as an impregnable natural barrier, stood majestically before them.

This strategic fortress seemed to grow out of the mountain itself, coldly scrutinizing all who came. After passing through the blood gate, the road did not become flat, but rather became even steeper.

Brynden Tully, nicknamed "Blackfish," had already received word and was waiting at the Blood Gate. He led the Ironborn up the dizzying mountain path, higher and higher, as if climbing a stairway to the heavens.

Only when the clouds began to swirl around their feet and the air became thin and cold did the Eyrie, a castle seemingly sculpted from white clouds and snow-capped mountains, finally appear before them, silently suspended atop the mountains like a distant, icy dream.

The Eyrie's towering white castle seemed to float in the clouds, its cold white stone walls shimmering with a solemn luster in the thin air.

Inside this easily defensible Sky Fortress, two weddings—one for the Guan Ping Alliance and the other for survival—are being prepared in earnest.

The air was filled with a contradictory and peculiar mixture of scents—the hurried adornment of flowers, the cold metallic smell of weapons, and the lingering tension carried by the mountain wind.

Euron Greyjoy represents the Iron Islands' powerful fleet and valiant warriors; his arrival brings the Alliance the power to control the waves. Robert Baratheon represents the fury and elite cavalry of the Stormlands; under his stag banner are countless vengeful armies determined to wash away their shame.

Their attendance was significant for much more than just being present at a ceremony.

This clearly proclaims to the Seven Kingdoms: the resistance against Aerys II's tyranny is not a solitary struggle. The cold, cruel Iron Islands and the furious, raging Stormlands have made their choice, and the will of iron and storm has now been formally incorporated into the blazing flames of rebellion against the Mad King.

The stone halls of the Eyrie have never been so crowded.

The air was thick with the aroma of baking bread, roast goose, and anxiety. Outside the battlements, the Tully family's red and blue fish-headed banners flew alongside the Stark direwolf banners and Arryn's skyfalcon banners—this was not a celebration of peace, but a covenant of war.

Lord Horst Tully stood on the high platform, his face haggard but his eyes piercing. His two daughters, Catelyn and Lysa, draped in their respective family cloaks, awaited their fateful moment.

This double wedding was the most ingenious move of his life: to permanently bind the bloodline of the Riverlands with that of the North and the Vale, so that they could fight together against the Mad King Aerys.

In the oppressive atmosphere where war clouds loomed.

Inside the sanctuary, candlelight flickered before the statues of the seven gods.

Eddard Stark awkwardly removed the Tully Blue Trout Cloak from Catelyn's shoulders. His hands, hands that held a sword rather than flowers, gently draped the Stark family's grey direwolf cloak over her. "From now on, you are under the protection of the Starks," he whispered. Catelyn touched the calluses on his fingertips, marks etched by the frost of the North.

Jon Arryn, the Warden of the Vale, was older and more composed. His movements were as gentle as a father's as he draped the sky-blue falcon cloak over Lysa. Lysa's fingers gripped the hem of her dress tightly, her face as pale as paper—her thoughts were of Petyr Baelish, not of this man who could be her father.

The old monk led them in reciting their vows, each couple facing a statue of a deity, his voice trembling yet solemn:

Before the Father: I pledge justice and protection.

Before the Virgin Mary: Vows of mercy and procreation.

Before the warriors: an oath of courage and loyalty.

Before the girl's birth: a vow of purity and hope.

Before the blacksmith: a vow of perseverance and hard work.

Before the old woman: vows of wisdom and guidance.

Before the stranger: praying for death to stay away.

Eddard and Jon Snow each placed their longswords on the altar—ice and eagles crossed, symbolizing that force would serve the newborn family and alliance.

When Eddard Stark took Catelyn Tully's hand, and when Jon Arryn accepted Lysa Tully as his wife, it was not just a union of four people, but a solemn oath of three powerful forces.

The resilience of the direwolves of the North, the agility of the river trout, and the soaring flight of the crescent eagles of the Vale—the Starks, Tully, and Arryn, three ancient families that once dominated their respective regions, were tightly bound together through this double marriage.

The moment the cold ring was slipped onto his finger, it heralded the birth of a powerful alliance: the armies of the North and the Vale would be closely linked through the Trident River basin, advancing and retreating together. It was no longer merely a temporary alliance to counter the tyranny of the Mad King, but an unbreakable political and military alliance powerful enough to shake the very foundations of the Iron Throne.

During the hurried yet solemn wedding ceremony in the Eyrie, while everyone's attention was focused on the two newlyweds, Euron and Robert, seated in the audience, had their minds already wandering to completely different places.

Euron Greyjoy's face was calm as still water, as if he were merely watching a performance that had nothing to do with him. Yet his gaze pierced through the stone walls of the hall, across mountains and rivers, reaching the distant, hot south. He thought of those still in Dorne...

His fiancée, Ashara Dayne, a woman who seemed to radiate starlight; he thought of Princess Elia Martell, bound by fate, and their son Caesar.

Beside him, Robert Baratheon presented a completely different picture. His imposing frame was taut, his fists clenched on his knees, knuckles white from the effort. His gaze, though fixed ahead, was empty, as if he saw a different scene: his beloved Lyanna Stark, the bright-smiling, wildfire-tempered girl from the North, imprisoned and abused by a monstrous Targaryen dragon. This image, like the most venomous thorns, coiled around his heart, each breath bringing a stinging pain and burning rage. The thirst for revenge roared in his chest, louder than any wedding vow.

The practice of "teasing the newlyweds" was strictly forbidden by the Duke of Horst.

"During wartime, it is not advisable to make a fuss."

Eddard stood outside the door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. He saw Catelyn sitting upright on the edge of the bed, the firelight flickering in her blue eyes. His first words were, "I assure you, madam, that the Stark family never breaks its oaths."

From the next room, Lysa's sobs echoed through the stone walls. Jon Arryn didn't enter, but said from outside the door, "Rest well, Lysa. The future of the Vale will be born from within you."

That night, there were no stars in Riverrun. Only the seven divine candles and the sound of the confluence of the two great rivers (the Rock River and the Red Fork River) witnessed the vow of the direwolves, falcons, and silver trout—that they would tear apart the dragon dynasty.