Game of Thrones: The Dragonborn - Chapter 145 - Benfred Tallhart.

[Chapter Size: 2100 Words.] Third Person POV. North. ... ... Benfred Tallhart had barely survived when they lost Torrhen's Square as Theon l

[Chapter Size: 2100 Words.]

Third Person POV.
North.

...

...

Benfred Tallhart had barely survived when they lost Torrhen's Square as Theon led an attack.

He was lucky that his uncle, who was away at the time protecting the coastline, retreated upon hearing of the castle’s situation and managed to strike them hard from the rear, retaking the castle and forcing Theon and the other ironborn to retreat.

The boy knew he would have died to Theon as soon as he took the castle, which was a bitter memory—Theon had been like a brother to Robb at Winterfell, they got along so well together and now, he had become a traitor to the point of throwing the North and the people who welcomed him, called him friend and even family, into chaos with his betrayal.

Hearing also what he did to Bran and Rickon Stark left him even more enraged at the squid he once called a friend, unable to believe he had done that to the two Stark children.

The memories of the encounter with Theon, as they crossed their swords against each other in the middle of the castle yard, while Benfred tried to protect his castle.
‘Traitor! You were a brother to Robb Stark, and now you turn against him like a stray dog biting the hand that fed you!’
‘I am the heir of Balon Greyjoy. My loyalty is with the ironborn, whom I intend to lead one day.’

Benfred was a much better swordsman than Theon, but he was at a disadvantage with his men fighting against a larger group. He knew his defeat was only a matter of time.

They fought until reinforcements arrived, the tide of the battle turned, and they managed to hold Torrhen’s Square, although later they had to remain within the castle as the ironborn reinforcements laid siege around the fortress.

He heard about Theon’s fall and felt great pleasure—it brought him a smile he hadn't had in a long time. Even though he had suspicions about Ramsay Bolton’s bastard, it was still deeply satisfying to hear Theon had been captured, and he hoped for a horrible end, which should’ve already happened since he hadn't heard anything more about Theon Greyjoy in the past moons.

News of the Wall’s fall also arrived, and if the North was already in a dire state—becoming the most chaotic kingdom of the Seven after the War of the Four Kings and with the North still without a chosen sovereign—things didn’t seem to be getting any better for the northern folk.

He heard that Daemon Targaryen brought down the Wall with nearly 200,000 wildlings and a dragon. It was truly terrifying when the news from the South claimed he was a monster in human form, spreading chaos wherever he went. Along with his reputation as someone no one could kill, who could turn into a monster and wield magic.

Benfred couldn’t imagine that the boy he once saw at Winterfell a few times when visiting with his father… That shrunken boy who kept to himself and was barely noticed, even pitied, had become a monster who toyed with the lives of people like Gregor Clegane.

The rumors of what he did to the Mountain and how he simply sent 50 men flying when Robb encountered him… were chilling...

Benfred was torn. He remembered asking his father a few times about the boy, but he always said it was something they shouldn't get involved in, that those problems belonged to Lord Stark, not them.

Benfred didn’t care much beyond that—he just went on talking with his friends, if he could even consider Theon one of them.

The actions of the one everyone had until then known as the missing Jon Snow, now Daemon Targaryen, had begun. He launched an attack on Bear Island, saving House Mormont and making them openly declare to the North that they were allies, with House Mormont bending the knee to the Targaryen.

Then came his letter, giving his opinion on the North, on the Stark children still alive, and all his past and future actions. The news from Dreadfort on the very same day was terrifying for Benfred, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

That was when his campaign began—Last Hearth, Karhold, the destruction of fortresses across Bolton territory, his hundreds of executions in Hornwood, the conquest of House Cerwyn’s castle... And now they had arrived here.

Daemon already had the support of every territory except the Boltons, and he seemed quite willing to destroy every last one of them.

Benfred had heard what happened to the group of men surrounding Torrhen’s Square, when roars and flashes lit up the dawn sky. Even from far away, they were unmistakable.

With all these thoughts, Benfred now stood in the castle’s courtyard. He had two choices—receive the self-proclaimed king of Westeros or go against Daemon Targaryen, who was dominating every battlefield in the North. Not a single fortress had withstood his assault. He had used his dragon actively more than once, such as attacking ironborn on Bear Island, Dreadfort, Stannis’s fleet, and the ironborn outside this very castle.

What more could they do but arrange a meeting with him? Did they have any real chance of defending themselves? Probably not. Even his uncle, who hated wildlings, agreed that a non-hostile approach was the best course of action now.

So they summoned men with a message of peace to invite Daemon to speak at the castle under full guest rights.

“They are arriving, my lord.” A man from House Tallhart approached to inform him.

“Very well, finish everything needed to welcome our guest,” Benfred said, though he seemed quite nervous. He didn’t know what kind of man the old Jon Snow had become, beyond the base of rumors—of a relentless man wielding powers no one else had when it came to enemies.

The group finally arrived as they proceeded into the castle. Daemon Targaryen was soon seen leading them, wearing a finely made armor with the three-headed dragon sigil upon it.

His violet gaze swept across the entire castle, seemingly taking in everything around them, scanning for any danger to his group, while a massive wolf walked at his side, leaving many gasping in horror at the creature.

Benfred knew the Starks had direwolves and had even heard about Jon Snow taking the last one—a white one that everyone thought would die in the first few days after they brought it in.

The young Tallhart had heard stories of Robb’s direwolf, but the size of this one beside the Targaryen… it was unnatural, standing shoulder to shoulder with Daemon Targaryen’s horse.

Others in the group were members of House Cerwyn, while a boy stood out wearing the armor and sigil of the house. His uncle shifted slightly beside him, seeming to recognize the boy, and Benfred had his suspicions—after all, the boy’s age matched the description of the young and inexperienced heir.

There were wildlings among them as well, mainly two women who seemed to know that this was their place.

Jon stopped his horse and began to dismount about ten meters from Benfred and his uncle, approaching while leaving the wolf behind.

There was nothing left of that reclusive boy Benfred used to encounter in Winterfell—he looked older, and his eyes showed that his life hadn’t been comfortable within a castle.

“Lords Tallhart,” Daemon said, stepping forward without fear, distancing himself from his companions and guards as he approached them.

“Lord Targaryen, I presume,” his uncle spoke beside him before Benfred could.

“King. He is King Targaryen,” the childish voice of the boy sounded from just behind as he approached.

Daemon looked back and gave a playful smile.
“I appreciate your strong intentions to take my side, Lord Cerwyn,” he said. “But I’m not here to force anyone to kneel, only to talk.”

“Apologies if that offended you,” Leobald Tallhart, Benfred’s uncle, said.

“I’m not offended by it. We are here to negotiate, so for the time being, I don’t mind being called ‘Lord.’ I am still the head of House Targaryen before taking the throne.
In any case, you must be Leobald Tallhart, and you are Benfred Tallhart.” Jon said, turning back to the two men of the family.

“Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Targaryen,” Benfred said as Jon nodded.

“You should also meet Grey Cerwyn. He’s been accompanying me in my military campaign,” Jon introduced the boy, who approached as they exchanged greetings.

“Bring bread and salt!” Leobald called, as the servants began the guest rite ritual.

They exchanged a few more courtesies and then entered the castle shortly after to begin negotiations.

“We’ve heard about your campaign—you’ve been destroying thousands of ironborn...” Leobald began as wine was being served. Jon, Grey, and Val sat on one side, with Leobald and Benfred on the other, joined by the castle’s maester and the master-at-arms.

“Yes... along with the Free Folk, if you don’t mind that they fought by my side,” Daemon began, leaving Leobald slightly uneasy. The Targaryen king wanted to see his reaction, as there were still some Northern lords who would not accept fighting alongside the Free Folk due to old grudges—Mors Umber being an example.

“Yes... I’m impressed by their strength...” Leobald murmured, almost awkwardly.

“I don’t mean to offend... but do you really trust bringing that force into the North?” Benfred asked cautiously.

“You’re saying I should doubt them after everything we went through, fighting as we fought and bleeding side by side in the North?

Lord Stark may have been terrible to me in many ways, but there’s one thing I learned from his flowery speeches—that we may be meeting our true friends on the battlefield.

There’s no better place than to bleed together,” Daemon said.

The two men seemed to fall silent upon hearing that.

“Your goal is to reclaim the North, but we’d like to know what will happen with House Stark and your uncle...” Leobald asked cautiously, quickly changing the subject and wanting to understand Daemon Targaryen’s intentions.

“You could say I have personal matters with Lord Stark. I’ll deal with him when the time comes, but he will no longer be the Lord of Winterfell. One of his sons will take that place,” Daemon said.

“You still saved him in King’s Landing, didn’t you?” Benfred asked suddenly, and Daemon nodded to him.

“I did because I owed him. But now, I don’t.

Still, I don’t want to place Lord Stark on the same level as the North’s other issues—he is something I’ll resolve on my own, even if you may disagree.

The only guarantee I’ll give is that House Stark will remain the ruling house of this kingdom,” Daemon said.

He knew that not restoring the Starks to power could cause revolts in the North—even Aegon the Conqueror saw this and offered them the choice to kneel 300 years ago. Besides, it was Daemon’s mother’s house.

Leobald and Benfred exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with conflict as they seemed to consider everything.

“What do you want from House Tallhart?” Benfred was the one to speak this time, while Jon smiled.

Young Lord Cerwyn remained silent the entire time, absorbing all the information they heard. Only Jon and the two Tallhart men spoke.

“Very simple, and you already know. I want your loyalty to my cause. I want to march south, and I need House Tallhart to raise their men for my cause once we’ve dealt with all the problems in the North,” Jon said.

“Another march south... I think that’ll be hard after Robb Stark’s failure...” Leobald said.

“All houses that support me will be well rewarded, but more than anything, I expect the commitment of House Tallhart to my name,” Daemon said.

“You want us to kneel...” Leobald said, and Daemon nodded.

“That is expected when you stand before the heir to the throne of the Seven Kingdoms,” Jon said.

“We can’t do that so easily, even if you’ve destroyed the ironborn—we need to deliberate,” Leobald said.

“I’m not expecting a quick answer. I’ll give you three days to decide,” Daemon said calmly.

“Very well, that seems fair.
Anyway, nephew, give it to him,” Leobald said.

“Yes,” Benfred sighed, relieved not to be pressured into a decision before that monster, and took something from his pocket, placing it on the table in front of Daemon.

“A scroll from White Harbor. They sent it to us and asked us to give it to you, knowing you were coming to the castle,” Benfred said.

“I see... a message, perhaps from my uncle. Let’s find out,” Daemon said, taking the paper.