Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

"Where are you from?" The quartermaster responsible for interrogating the prisoners in Bolton's army looked at him, sighing, and pressing the white paper on the table with his hand.

A Wolfwood accent, Theon realized.

His lips moved and he opened his mouth slightly, hesitating not knowing what to say.

"Hey! Hey!" The quartermaster tapped the pen hard, "I'm asking you something, where are you from, and who did you work for before?"

Theon swallowed his throat and raised his head, "Winterfell, formerly served by Lord Brandon Stark."

"Another poor ghost attacked by a chameleon?" The Quartermaster sighed and pointed behind him, "Did you see that white tent? Behind it are you people from Winterfell."

Theon stared. Although the former Theon Greyjoy was much sloppier, his appearance had not changed. The people in Winterfell must be familiar with it.

He almost cried, tears welling up in his eyes. Greyjoy's pride had long been destroyed by being skinned again and again.

"I" Xion choked up a little, "I made a mistake, I should have put on black clothes"

The quartermaster immediately became cautious and narrowed his eyes, "Are you a deserter from the Night Watch?"

"No," Theon shook his head in denial, "Winterfell was already occupied before I even reached the Wall."

"Occupied by that chameleon Theon Greyjoy, I know what you mean, man." The quartermaster lowered his voice as if to comfort him.

Theon forced a smile, and he believed that his expression must be ugly.

The quartermaster coughed twice and continued to ask: "What mistake did you make that made you put on black clothes?"

Xion's heart skipped a beat, and his lips moved uncomfortably again.

However, this action was regarded as a sign of shame by the quartermaster. He stretched out his arms and said, "No matter how great the crime is, it is not as big as Bolton's crime of betrayal. You are very brave in killing the enemy. Maybe your sentence can be reduced."

"No," Theon looked at the quartermaster and shook his head decisively, "My sins are very serious. I failed Duke Stark, poached, and killed people. I am grateful to have one life left. I don’t pray for anything else, I just hope that I can rush to the Great Wall as soon as possible and become a man of the Night Watch.”

The quartermaster's eyes changed when he looked at him. He put down his pen and looked at him solemnly, "I always feel like I have seen you somewhere."

Xion stared at him, with an unfamiliar face and an unfamiliar voice. He had never seen this person before.

The two looked at each other for a moment. The quartermaster smiled kindly and shook his head. "I think I remembered it wrong." He picked up the pen and scratched again and again on the white paper. "Tell me your name. You went to the rear camp." Take it with you in the prisoner's den."

Theon breathed a sigh of relief in his heart, "Sgorik, Sgorik Snow" He announced a name, which came from the ancient saying of the ancestors, Sgorik, Theon thought mockingly to himself, he suddenly appeared The name is actually this, which means liar in ancient proverbs.

The Quartermaster stood still, "You're lying." He raised his eyes to look at Xion, whose expression suddenly changed. "There are some terms that only nobles can use. Sgolik is an ancient language of the ancestors, and only the wild people outside the wall can use it. You are lying."

Theon is almost incapable of explaining himself. Ramsay Snow's torture caused him to lose most of his Greyjoy abilities, including the ability to lie and deceive.

"Please." Xion looked at the quartermaster's gradually understanding eyes and made a sound that was almost pleading, "please don't."

"Theon Greyjoy," the quartermaster said one word at a time, gritting his teeth, "you are a chameleon!" His voice resounded throughout the camp, and the surrounding soldiers looked over.

"No!" Theon suddenly stood up, and there was severe pain in his leg again. The White Harbor soldier pierced Theon's calf with a spear. The biting pain made him lose consciousness and collapse, and he fell to the ground.

"Chameleon Theon Greyjoy!" This time it was not the quartermaster's voice, but someone else's. The voices of other strange and familiar northerners came from everywhere, wrapping around Theon's ears like arrows piercing them. Oh, he just hopes to die now.

The moment before he fainted, Xion saw countless ravens flying in the air. Everyone's eyes immediately moved away from Xion and looked at the ravens flying away in the sky.

Theon just wished he could grow wings now and follow the raven south.

Myrcella stood on the towering tower of Harrenhal, looking into the distance. The flags of the Crescent Falcon were approaching one after another. The city gate she was on was completely open, welcoming the arrival of the army.

Attis Arryn saw his fiancée looking at the city from a distance. He sped up his horse, waving his whip over and over again, and did not slow down until he entered the city gate.

The maid behind Myrcella picked up Myrcella's golden dress, which was stained with mud on the ground, and dragged it to Attis.

"Duke." Myrcella's voice was still gentle, but a touch of sadness lingered in it, and Attis could easily catch it.

He knew where the sadness in Myrcella's heart came from. Attis gently held Myrcella's hand and leaned close to her ear, "I'm sorry about Prince Tommen."

"No need," Myrcella stopped him softly. She held down Attis' stretched out hand, "Do your thing, and I will handle mine."

Attis was a little surprised in his heart. Myrcella's tone was not only gentle, but also had a tone that could not be rejected. He nodded slightly and walked into Harrenhal hand in hand with the princess.

The main hall of Harrenhal, the Hall of Hundreds of Furnaces, was fully used. Countless fires were burning, and the nets were covering them. The smoke was directed to the ground. Scented candles from the valley almost filled the entire hall, but compared to The huge Hundred Furnace Hall is not overly large, and the incense you smell when you walk in is not strong, but has been deliberately neutralized.

The servants left the Hall of a Hundred Hearths one after another. The maids collected the last few plates and left in an orderly manner, and then went to serve the noble ladies elsewhere.

Atis took off his armor and placed it on the main table of the Hall of a Hundred Hearths. He stood and stared at the candles emitting incense in a daze.

Myrcella waved to Sir Arys and the maids who were guarding her. She reached out and pinched the corner of her long skirt, folded it up and placed it beside her thighs, and sat down on the long table with a light jump.

She faced Atis, reached out and stroked Atis's chin.

"Maybe I can shave you?" Myrcella raised the corner of her mouth, poking at the hard stubble.

Atis was still calculating the gains and losses of the battle of the Blackwater River, but was amused by Myrcella's words and laughed out loud, "You can do these things, Baratheon princess?"

"When my father was here, I often shaved him." Myrcella said.

Atis couldn't help but remember King Robert's face, his fat body, and his stubble that was mostly neat but sometimes looked very messy.

Getting along with King Robert would be much easier, Atis thought.

Varys' disappearance, Tommen's death, Tyrion's arrest, and Tyrell's letter made the situation confusing.

Atis saw a rare opportunity, but the joy of seeing the opportunity did not last long, and a worry about losing control of the situation spread.

He looked at Myrcella, and the worry in his heart gradually subsided.

Atis would publicly support Tyrion, Royce and Corbray's troops would be placed in the king's territory, and Evan Arryn would also enter King's Landing to fill the gap left by the departure of the Octopus Spider. These were all good opportunities.

"What's wrong?" Myrcella noticed his absent-mindedness and asked.

Atis just shook his head slightly and held Myrcella's hand tightly. Evan's overly optimistic report made him feel even more uneasy. According to Evan Arryn's description, it seemed that the little bird left by Varys in King's Landing had disappeared. The Golden Eagle was even confident that it could completely control the intelligence network of King's Landing.

Tyrell's wedding letter seemed to invite Atis to King's Landing, which reminded him of his engagement. He looked at Myrcella, "I received many letters from people who hope that we can get married soon."

Myrcella lowered her head slightly after hearing this, chuckled, and her cheeks flushed, like red buds waiting to bloom.

Tywin also invited him to participate in the King's Landing trial.

King's Landing seemed to have become a place he had to go overnight.

"The letter from the Duke of Mace said that King Joffrey had agreed to marry Margaery of the Tyrell family and gave up his engagement with Sansa." Atis said to Myrcella.

Myrcella came out of her blush, "Joff is not going to marry Sansa?"

"He even suggested that our wedding could follow the king's, and let King's Landing celebrate for a hundred days."

"In King's Landing?" Myrcella hesitated a little, "I thought winter was coming, and we would hold the wedding at the Gates of the Moon. I haven't seen our home yet."

"It seems that you have done some research on the Vale." Atis praised.

Myrcella wanted to say something, but she caught a glimpse of the open door of the Hundred Hearths Hall, and the steward of Harrenhal walked over slowly, so she had to shut up.

"Duke," the steward nodded gently, "you didn't receive the news in the army, this is a letter from the North, for your review."

The North? He really couldn't think of anything he needed to tell the South about the battle between Bolton and the Ironborn. In his opinion, as an outsider, the Ironborn were destined not to stay in the North for long, and were destined to be defeated under the banner of the Skinners and retreat to the barren islands.

He looked at the letter handed over by the butler, and the cold-toned ice wolf emblem of the Stark family immediately came into view. Its fangs were extremely clear, and the dim light in the Hundred Furnaces Hall shone on it, reflecting a silver luster, cold and dangerous.

Atis' pupils dilated, he took the letter, opened it, and read it.

Silence enveloped the huge Hundred Furnaces Hall and the silent three people, and the sound of burning incense candles in the air was gradually getting louder.

Atis pressed the letter, his expression became firm.

"What's wrong?" Myrcella worriedly held Atis's arm.

Atis reached out and hugged Myrcella in his arms, "There are some things I must settle personally, and there are also things about you."

Myrcella did not move, she buried her body deeper.