"This is Harrenhal, the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms," Patrick declared with flair as their horses trotted down the overgrown path.
Arthur didn't need the reminder. Even without the ruined towers looming in the distance, he knew Harrenhal's place in history.
In Game of Thrones, Harrenhal is one of the most infamous castles in Westeros, a monument to both ambition and ruin. Built by King Harren the Black of House Hoare, it was destroyed the very day it was completed—by dragonfire from Aegon the Conqueror atop Balerion the Black Dread. The melted stone towers still stand like a graveyard to that doomed dynasty. Since then, Harrenhal has changed hands repeatedly, and each house that ruled it—House Qoherys, House Harroway, House Towers, House Strong, House Lothston—fell to ruin or disgrace.
Even House Whent, its most recent keeper during the reign of King Robert, was fading. Lord Walter Whent had hosted the legendary tourney in 281 AC—the very one where Prince Rhaegar Targaryen bested all challengers and, to everyone's shock, crowned Lyanna Stark the Queen of Love and Beauty instead of his wife Elia Martell.
That fateful choice had ignited a chain of events that led to Robert's Rebellion. Brandon Stark rode to King's Landing demanding her return, and the Mad King Aerys II had him strangled in front of his father, who was then burned alive. After Aerys commanded Jon Arryn to surrender Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark, the Lords of the Vale, North, and Stormlands rose up instead—joined by Hoster Tully of Riverrun through a triple marriage alliance.
Two years later, Robert sat on the Iron Throne, and the Baratheon dynasty began.
Fifteen years had passed since then, and now Arthur, Patrick, Desmond, and their retinues approached Harrenhal's blackened walls—twenty men in total, bound for the tourney hosted in honor of the new Hand of the King: Lord Eddard Stark.
"Though the Whents have withered, they still hold Harrenhal under Tully's banner," Desmond remarked. "They'll grant us hospitality."
It was true. While Arthur, a landed knight from the Red Mill, had little standing on his own, he traveled with the heir of House Mallister and the master-at-arms of Riverrun. That earned him a place among the guest wings.
"I want a proper bath, a clean tunic, and a shave," Patrick grumbled. "There will be lords and ladies at this tourney. Presentation matters."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You're not a maiden at her first feast. No one's looking at your stubble."
"You, my friend, are easy to say that. If you dress sharp, they call you princely. Dress rough, and they say you're rugged. I, on the other hand, have to try just to be average."
Arthur let him have his complaints and nudged his horse forward to survey the ruins.
Strategically, Harrenhal was a key pillar in the Riverlands' defense. Alongside the Twins in the upper Green Fork and Riverrun on the Red Fork, it formed a triangle that guarded the Trident's basin. Control of those three seats allowed the riverlords to repel incursions from any direction.
During the War of the Five Kings, this very castle had become Tywin Lannister's base of operations after he marched east from the Westerlands. Edmure Tully's decision not to garrison Harrenhal had proved disastrous—Tywin used the empty castle to ravage the Riverlands at will, his armies moving unchecked from Pinkmaiden to Maidenpool, cutting off supplies, and sacking villages along the way.
If manned properly, Harrenhal could have stalled him, even halted him outright. With over 30,000 soldiers spread across various bannermen, the Riverlands weren't lacking in manpower—just in leadership and timing.
Now, as Arthur looked upon the scorched stone and skeletal towers, he wondered whether any place could ever truly hold this ruin.
Desmond, noting his expression, clapped him on the shoulder. "It's cursed, they say. Every lord who rules it eventually falls."
"Then it's a good thing I have no interest in owning it," Arthur replied dryly.
Patrick pointed to the central tower, where the stone had melted and warped like candle wax. "Do you think Balerion really did that?"
Arthur nodded. "Balerion the Black Dread. Largest dragon to ever fly. Aegon burned Harren and all his sons alive inside the tower when they refused to surrender. Harrenhal was the price of pride."
"Good story," Patrick muttered, "but I'd prefer a warm fire and a bowl of stew over a history lesson."
They rode through the shattered gatehouse into the outer yard, where the Whent guards, though few in number, bowed and waved them in. The sigil of House Whent—a black bat on yellow—fluttered limply above the gate, though the family itself was a shadow of its former self. Lord Whent, likely bedridden with age or grief, did not come to greet them.
Still, servants led them to guest quarters with fresh water, clean bedding, and firewood ready. For one night at least, they would sleep under a roof older than any living lord.
And in the days to come, they would journey south again—toward King's Landing, toward the royal tourney, and unknowingly, toward the first steps of Arthur Bracken's legendary rise.
But Edmure made several critical missteps. First, he sent 4,000 troops under the banners of House Vance and House Piper to attack the Golden Tooth, a strategic stronghold guarding the western approach to the Westerlands. That force was swiftly routed by Ser Jaime Lannister, and the men were lost for nothing.
Then, instead of securing central Riverlands territories, he abandoned regions around the God's Eye and Maidenpool, focusing his remaining forces on Riverrun and the Lannister host bearing down from the west. In the end, Jaime Lannister laid siege to Riverrun and captured Edmure himself during the fighting.
If not for Lord Tytos Blackwood's desperate defense in the south, stalling the Lannister vanguard, and the timely arrival of Robb Stark's northern cavalry, the victory at the Whispering Wood would have been far harder won. With Jaime's capture, the tides had turned—but Edmure's blunders had nearly cost the Riverlands everything.
Now that Arthur had decided to align himself with the alliance of the Fish and the Wolf—House Tully and House Stark—he was determined that such costly errors would not be repeated.
The Riverlands' triangular defense system—with Harrenhal, Riverrun, and the Twins acting as cornerstones—must not be compromised again.
Riding beside him was Ser Desmond Grell, Riverrun's master-at-arms and one of Edmure's key military advisors. Arthur knew that Desmond's counsel could heavily sway the young lord's decisions. It was time to plant a seed.
"Ser Desmond," Arthur asked, "which stronghold do you believe is most vital in the Riverlands—one that must never be lost, should war erupt again?"
Desmond looked briefly confused by the question, but answered readily, "No doubt, it's Riverrun. As long as we block the Westerlands at the confluence of the Tumblestone and the Red Fork, we're safe. The North and the Vale are our sworn allies."
Arthur's face darkened. That was exactly the problem—people from Riverrun only saw Riverrun.
"And what if the Lannisters take the Golden Road east, cross the Blackwater Rush, and strike north into the Riverlands? Could Riverrun stop them then?"
Like the Kingsroad and River Road, the Golden Road was one of the five great highways built during the reign of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen. It stretched from Casterly Rock through the southern Riverlands toward King's Landing—cutting across terrain that was poorly defended if not properly held.
Desmond looked startled. "If that happens, King Robert would need to muster the realm's armies to stop them."
He understood that if the Lannisters pushed beyond the Blackwater and approached the south bank of the Trident, the Riverlands would need overwhelming force to stand any chance.
"That's not what I'm asking," Arthur pressed. "Suppose it's just the Riverlands versus the Westerlands. How would we resist twenty or thirty thousand Lannister soldiers moving along the Golden Road?"
Desmond shook his head. "That's not for me to answer. The Duke or Lord Edmure would have to decide."
"Then the answer is simple," Arthur said. "To keep the Riverlands safe, Harrenhal must be held—always."
At that moment, Patrick urged his horse forward to join the conversation. "Arthur's right," he said. "The only real solution is for the Tullys to garrison Harrenhal with reliable troops."
Desmond frowned. "Why? Can't House Whent defend their own seat?"
"This isn't about House Whent." Arthur raised his riding crop and gestured toward the horizon. "Harrenhal controls the lands around the God's Eye. If we hold it, any Lannister army crossing the south can be harassed, their supply lines cut, their advance stalled at will."
Desmond looked unconvinced, but mumbled an "Oh," pretending to understand.
Arthur paid him no mind. He turned to Patrick instead.
The Mallisters of Seagard, as a powerful vassal house with influence over Lord Edmure, could help guide Tully strategy. If Patrick grasped this, and pressed the point, perhaps the Riverlands would not fall into the same chaos again.
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