Bronn just waved his hand and continued walking towards the King's tent, not far in the distance. As he traveled through the camp, all the knights, men-at-arms, and lords stepped aside, most of them knelt and paid respects, while the few Northerners only lowered their heads.
Seems the word has arrived.
He couldn't lie that he wasn't excited. This was the first time he'd done mass assassination like this, and he didn't even know if it was a success. All he knew was that he'd sent enough insects to kill a small army. Most of them were bound to be lost or die on the way.
"L-Lord Septon, a fine morning." Ser Barristan greeted with a deep bow, his eyes full of holy reverence.
"It is, good Ser. Warm and bright, as I trust the Seven will guide this campaign. The Ironborn must embrace the Faith or face their drowned terrors." Bronn waved at the old knight and walked past him, entering the King's luxuriously big tent.
I can already hear his laughter.
Finally, he entered past the curtains and eyed the small crowd that had gathered inside. They turned to eye him in return, and it was Robert who jumped to his feet first.
"Ho! By the Seven, right on time, Lord Angel!"
Lord Angel? That's new.
"Ha! Your arrival truly brought the Seven's blessing upon us," Robert boomed, grinning widely. "You smashed those squids yourself, cursed them. They're finished already, Seven guide us!"
Bronn nodded, keeping the solemn and confident act going. He couldn't really ask them who got killed because that would reveal he hadn't cast a curse on all of them. He just hoped one of them would spill.
"Sit here, Lord Septon." Lord Paxter Redwyne got up and offered his chair. The man was just as faithful as the Hightowers and Tyrells.
Bronn thanked warmly and sat down, right in the middle, before Robert's big war table. On his right was Eddard Stark, still standing, and on his left was Tywin Lannister. Further, Stannis, Hoster Tully, and Mace Tyrell were present.
But at that moment, only Bronn was seated, followed by the King. Nobody else sat for one reason or another. Bronn reckoned they were just too shaken by his magical abilities. He imagined he'd be the same if he were in their boots.
"Wonderfully punished, Lord Angel." Mace Tyrell chirped, being the perfect bootlicker he was. "You swept away the entire ruling command of the Iron Islands. Balon Greyjoy and all his brothers lie dead. I heard the whispers; folk are calling it a holy smiting, saying the Strange moved in silence."
Mother's tits! I got them all?
Bronn controlled his expressions perfectly. But he was excited. He hoped that Balon would die but he'd exceeded his own expectations.
"Aye, the Seven's will cannot be turned aside. Drowned or dry, their light finds every shadow. To bring the Iron Islands to true light, the land must be wholly taken. Strike down every priest, topple their temples, and let the Seven claim those foul shores."
Venom and holy threats combined, Bronn painted a very clear picture for all the lords present. He never failed to notice Eddard Stark's frown, however. The Northern Lord must be fearful of him in case his goal shifted to the North after this.
But Bronn had no such plans. Converting the North was a simple matter. Since the frozen fucks loved magic and the occult, he'd just have to show them a few tricks, live in the North for a while, and after the smallfolk, nobles would follow suit.
"Agreed! We ready the invasion host at once," Robert boomed, lifting his gaze to the gathered lords. "The Gods have broken their spirit, their houses lie scattered. Balon left a son, but the boy is small, and no one stands behind his claim. By the Father's judgment, this is the moment to strike."
"As the Seven will," Bronn replied.
"Yet one cursed matter remains," added the King. "Help me in this, Lord Septon. What should be done with the Iron Islands after the invasion? The damned Greyjoys are lost."
"Why must there be Greyjoys?" Bronn sternly and coldly replied. He spoke normally, yet his voice magically boomed. "They clung to their dark beliefs because they were far from the Crown and the mainland. Such folly must not return. The Seven will not spare again, only send their wrath. The Iron Islands shall not remain a lone kingdom. As once, they should return to the Riverlands."
Bam!
Robert slapped his table. "Perfect! Lord Tully?"
The old Hoster Tully just nodded from his place. While the old Lord of Riverrun didn't show much reaction, all could see the joy underneath. Every lord wished to carve a name for themselves. For Hoster, this would be that feat. The Lord Paramount of the Trident, who made the Riverlands whole again.
Of course, Bronn had a reason behind suggesting that. He could have divided the Iron Islands and given half to the Lannisters and half to the Tullys. But from what he'd seen, the old lion was hard to move even with his magical feats. Lannisters valued gold over everything else, even faith. Sure, they'd fear him, but they'd never submit. And he already had Cersei under his foot, hand, cock, and everything.
In comparison, House Tully was faithful, and Hoster Tully was close to being a fanatic. The man even sent alms for building his Sept of the Seven's Angel.
"That settles it, we'll have the squids kneel to me and you, Lord Tully. And the Lord Septon as well, to accept the Faith of the Seven," Robert declared.
"Ser Barristan, see where we are with the preparations."
As everyone got ready to leave, Bronn took out a simple locket from his pocket. It was nothing special, just a black thread tied to a seven-pointed star-shaped pendant. He revealed it on his palm and cast magic to make it levitate.
Instantly, he heard a few gasps, the loudest being Mace, as always. He levitated the locket towards Robert.
"Keep this charm of the Seven close, Your Grace. You do sacred work, leading those vile Iron Islanders to the embrace of the Seven's light."
Jaw agape, Robert opened his palm wide and accepted the pendant as if it were the most precious treasure. While in truth, Bronn had picked it randomly from a stash of Seven-themed items. It had no magic or blessing.
"Ha, I'm grateful for this. I'll wear it into battle. Seven above, I feel the Father watching and the Warrior in my arms."
"..."
I was going to throw it away.
With that, Bronn got up to leave. His work was done, and he had no plans to go to the Iron Islands during the land invasion. He'd done and shown enough.
"I shall pray for the easiest victory. May the Seven's light guide us." Bronn raised his right hand and, as usual, bathed the lords and the King in warm light.
After that, he turned around, arms behind his back lazily, and left.
####
Lannisport, Westerlands,
It was utterly easy. The Iron Islands didn't even put up a fight after the Greyjoys were decimated. Their morale was also down. After all, how could they fight an invisible enemy? Other than a few skirmishes, nothing major occurred.
Most noble houses of the Iron Islands surrendered as soon as the invasion army made landfall. After that, the royal army just marched through all the islands, killed every priest, and destroyed every temple of the Drowned Gods. All remaining ships of the Iron Islands were confiscated.
By the day's end, all of the Iron Islands had surrendered and fallen under Robert's occupation.
To celebrate their victory, Lord Tywin decided to host a tourney at Lannisport. It was also going to be the place where the Ironborn nobles would kneel to Lord Tully, and then to Lord Septon to accept the Faith of the Seven.
And so, from devastation to festival, Lannisport was decorated and prepared for the tourney. In addition to the many lords and knights who participated in the war, many more joined from across Westeros.
Tywin Lannister had plenty of gold to throw around, and he made a spectacle out of it. In addition to the flag of his house and the King's Baratheon flag, he added the Lord Septon's coat of arms.
"What do you make of him, my lord brother?" asked Kevan Lannister as he watched the tourney from his seat, sitting beside Tywin.
The situation in that jousting arena was strange. The King had the highest and the largest chair, of course. But right beside the King's chair was another equal and identical chair, on which Lord Septon sat and watched.
In comparison, Tywin, the host of the tourney, sat a level below. His seat was golden and regal, but he was nowhere near the King. And that fact was visible.
"What I see is what I make of it. He is a dangerous man, more than any we have met or are likely to meet. Cersei sent word, so for now, he favors House Lannister. Let's not try to mend what's not broken." Tywin focused on the tourney. "Ignore him unless he seeks us."
Kevan clenched his teeth and stared at the godly man. He'd seen the magic firsthand, how the Septon shone light from his palm when the Ironborn knelt to him and accepted the Faith of the Seven. He was there when one of the lords tried to kill the Septon. Only for the assailant to freeze and fall, paralyzed with one tap of the Septon's finger.
"I don't understand his abilities. They are too…"
"There is much we do not know, Kevan," Tywin said, his gaze narrowing as Ser Jorah unhorsed Jaime in the final. Nine lances shattered against his son, a poor display for a Lannister in his own lands. "Keep your eyes and your mind open. The Riverlands have gained from this. The Reach has been gifted his castle and sept. Next time, if the cost favors us, we will stand behind him."
"So he's a golden goose?" Kevan laughingly asked.
"More… a golden dragon," Tywin replied and stood up to clap when Ser Jorah approached the stands to name Lord Hightower's youngest daughter his Queen of Love and Beauty. He scoffed when the Northern knight dared ask Lord Hightower for his daughter's hand in marriage.
But it was a day of surprises. Lord Hightower agreed right away and decided to hold the marriage the very next day. To Tywin, it made no sense, and he saw it as a waste. He saw Lynesse, the girl was young, ripe, beautiful, while the Bear Islander was in his thirties, a poor house, moreover. He personally could think of a dozen better matches for the young girl.
There was Willas Tyrell, the realm's most sought-after boy at the moment. He almost wished he had another daughter for that reason.
Distaste in his mouth, Tywin watched Lord Septon give his blessing to the couple. Once again, he saw that palm shrouded in light. It had turned the entire arena fanatic each time.
With a sigh, the old lion just left. Too many things beyond his control were happening. What annoyed him the most was that he couldn't make sense of half of them. How could one even reason with magic?
___________________
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