Ch-41: Gathering Storms at Bear Island

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"Where's my brother and his men?"

Frustration hung heavy in the echoing halls of Greyjoy Castle, a harbinger of impending turmoil.

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"Hey Aunt, how's everything shaping up?"

"Smooth sailing so far. The tribes and our folks are pooling their efforts. Tightened security, cleaner streets – we're on track," Jorah confided in his aunt within the confines of his solar.

They had to bang their heads together to ensure this monumental event went off without a hitch. After all, Bear Island was prepping for a grand spectacle for the first time ever.

"Jorah, what about that boat bridge?" – Lady Maege suddenly asked.

"Tumbor's on it. He swears it'll be ready a week ahead. They're working round the clock, even Lord Glover's sent most of his men. They eat a lot but they are also working hard."

"Mmm… something feels off, though."

A puzzled Lady Maege pondered aloud. Despite racking her brain, an elusive sense of something amiss gnawed at her.

"Oh, right! The trading ships!" – Jorah reminded his aunt,

"Damn it, you're right! What's the ship status?"

"Thanks to those Ironborn's ten longboats, we've got a total of seventy now. The focus shifted to war galleys; the second's nearly done, and once we get the wood from the Wall, the third will start. We need good quality and cheap or preferably free wood for more ships.

We can't cut more from Bear Mountain and buying more from Lord Glover will drain whatever wealth we are earning."

The solar fell quiet, discussions pausing briefly. Lady Maege gazed out the window pensively.

"Y'know, you've done the Mormonts proud. No one's looked out for us like this in generations," Lady Maege quipped, grabbing her glass of warm water. Pregnant again, she'd forsaken her beloved wine. Sometimes Jorah wondered what kind of magic his miserly uncle used on his aunt.

Thankfully, his aunt is... independent.

As Bear Island buzzed with celebration preparations, the story of the fifteen valiant warriors battling an entire tribe of wildling river clans spread among common folk like wildfire.

Mountain clans convened deep within Wolfswood to discuss their course of action before the festivities.

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"Chief Knott, reckon Lord Jorah's summonin' us for?"

"You not in the loop? North's carved up 'mong the lords. Bear Island's got space, but not enough men," Chief Knott replied, his words unfiltered. Being mountain-dwellers, they were mostly cut off, but they had their own within Winter Town to glean the latest tidbits.

"So, he wants us for manpower? Wants us kneelin'?"

Chief Liddle's fist slammed the table, anger pulsating.

"Relax, Liddle, you brute! We bow to anyone but Starks?" Chief Flint interjected, shooting Liddle a withering glare. The other chiefs mulled over the topic. Living in isolation among the mountains for generations left them with no wealth, no claim on other lands, and no new territories.

For generations, they have lived on these mountains but it's not by choice. The clansmen could scatter anywhere, as long as no one stops them.

"Should we bow?" After contemplation, Chief Wull chimed in.

"Starks' well is where we dip our buckets, but the water inside, our clansmen, can go anywhere," Chief Wull continued.

(A side note: House Wull's flag features three buckets on a blue background, symbolizing a well, water, and buckets.)

The statement held weight. As chiefs, their loyalty lay with House Stark, but their people could roam freely.

"Seems like a chance to ease our mountain's burden, give young ones more room," Chief Burley added.

Debate sparked among the chiefs, inciting near confrontation over resource allocation when their clansmen left. For some chiefs, though, it was a mere façade. Tired of their harsh, bleak mountain life, they yearned for a better existence.

Chief Wull, Chief Norrey, and Chief Harlay were among them.

It wasn't just the mountain clans abuzz with talks, though. Lord Glover's invitation spread to vassal families, closer to the Island and aware of ongoing developments. The floating bridge's near completion and flourishing fleet reflected Bear Island's growth.

These people have undergone a huge transformation. Their strange floating bridge is near completion which will give them direct access to the mainland. Plus, they have built a massive fleet of boats, upgraded their army and even conquered the entire Frozen Shore.

Now, their men are training daily in warfare, kids go to these strange learning places called Newton and all of them can eat fresh vegetables, meat, and enough bread to keep them full. This is far better than most of the chiefs can have on a daily basis.

House Wood, House Forrester, House Bole, and House Branch, rulers of the Wolfswood, too had their eyes set on the festivities. Opportunity beckoned, and they wanted to seize it.

With time, this small gathering snowballed, drawing in more than anticipated. And strangely, no one thought to inform Lord Ned Stark.

The North had bled for him during the rebellion, supporting him unconditionally, yet received little in return. This cold shoulder reflected Lord Ned's place in their hearts. Starks were born leaders, but Lord Ned seemed rigid, detached, and yet to prove himself.

Many houses distanced themselves from Starks, embracing House Manderly instead. An uncertain air hung as the gathering loomed closer.