A Game of Thrones: A Stark Shard.

[InfinityReads999]

Author's Note:Hey guys, this is a slow chapter, but it is important to show what each kingdom is doing. Obviously, I will not do so one after another since that would waste too much time. But yeah, since the North will be the main kingdom in the future, I needed to show what was happening while Robb is busy in the South. Also, I tried to illustrate Ned's mentality; in my opinion, he is somewhat of an overthinker, so he is blaming himself a lot. However, I tried to show him pushing past that by seeing his children do so much and all that. Let me know what you think.

Important Note:
Hey guys, sorry for the delay... Like I told my subscribers, things really hit the fan in my family last week. I won't bore you with too many details, but my mother was laid off from her job on Thursday, and she was the sole earner in my family. It was a really tough thing to deal with, especially since she had worked at that company for almost thirty years. So yeah, things went downhill, and that news hit me hard. A lot will have to change in my family because of this, and even if she manages to find another job, the pay will obviously be much lower.

I study in another city, and my mother helped me with those expenses, so right now I'm debating if going back home next year is the best idea, since I'm nowhere near being self-sufficient.

Ugh, life sucks... but there's nothing else I can do but face it head-on. Wish me luck, guys/gals. If you'd like to help, I'd really appreciate it if you could share this fic so more people can see it since that at least brings some joy.

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Eddard Stark

Winterfell

I didn't know why everything went to hell. No… I did, it was because I tried to do the honorable thing and save the Lannister children, giving Cersei the opportunity to flee. I didn't expect that she would answer in the way she did. Killing her husband, taking control of the throne with her forces, and ignoring Robert's last wishes.

It shouldn't have surprised me; not everyone put the same weight in their honor as I did, but that just meant I had been foolish.

Foolish to help Cersei, foolish to trust Littlefinger, foolish to leave Winterfell trying to help my best friend even with all the bad feelings his visit gave me.

And the ending of my honorable action? War, I started a war that consumed the Riverlands, the lands of my Catelyn were burning because of me.

I always believed that doing the right thing was the best course of action, speaking the truth, and honoring the promises made. But the path I paved since my youth, since Robert's Rebellion, felt twisted, a road paved with corpses. My friend, Robert, dead. My family, scattered, trying their best to fix my mistakes, the North bleeding, my men dying in a war that was my fault. My logic said that this war would have started even without my meddling, but a nagging voice inside my head whispered that everything was my fault, that I started it, and thousands of people have died and it was my fault.

I tried to protect the realm. I tried to save them. Yet here I am, a father who has failed his children, a lord who failed to protect his people, a man whose honor cost him so much.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even notice someone approaching me, startling me when I felt a soft hand on my shoulder.

"Husband," Cat said with a soft tone in her voice, and I couldn't help but smile slightly. Even after everything, here she was supporting me when I needed it the most.

It had been only a week since we reached Winterfell after Robb saved me from the Lannisters' clutches, and seeing her hurting but supporting me all the same lifted my spirits. I couldn't even imagine what would become of me if I didn't have her in my life in these harrowing times. Cat, Sansa, Arya, and the rest of the children were what helped me the most. Something I was sure Robb took into consideration before sending me here.

The thought of Robb gave me a surge of pride in my chest. He had become everything a Stark should embody. Honorable, ruthless, capable, and most importantly, a caring person. He honestly cared for his people, and with his actions, he had become the King of these lands. It was not done; a child wasn't called a King if his sire was still alive, but the people of the North did so because he was the one who could lead us to greatness.

He was like the Starks of old, nothing like me. I knew of the whispers of my fellow lords; they disliked the decisions I took, they felt I wasn't Northerner enough, sometimes that I was weak, and I couldn't deny it. I was only a second son, I shouldn't have been thrust into the position of the Warden of the North, it wasn't my fate to do so. But the Mad King came, and then Father had to die, with Brandon dying not long after. And here I was, thrust into a position I shouldn't have, I was never taught how to do this work, and while I tried my best, I knew it wasn't enough.

Shaking my head, I tried to focus on the present, tilting my head, and leaning into the support of my wife.

"Cat," I said softly, "How are the children?"

"They are well, Ned," she replied, "Sansa has been following Lady Elise like a lost pup, trying to learn everything she can when she is not helping around the castle."

I smiled upon hearing that. Sansa had matured so much in this short amount of time. I always knew she was intelligent, and I couldn't thank Robb enough when he showed us the peak Sansa could reach with the proper nurturing.

It all started all those years ago when Robb had the proposition to teach Sansa how to be a true lady of the North, learning alongside him and the other boys under Maester Luwin, and she took the lessons like a fish to water. I snorted at that thought, considering the Tullys' banner. But that wasn't all, she was a true political beast, better than anyone in the family even with her younger age. She learned and learned until there was no more, and Luwin was so happy with it that he continued nurturing her, often approaching me to take her to court so that she could learn in practice, asking for her opinion in alliances, bartering with merchants, and talking with the smallfolk.

"That is good," I sighed, "I just wish she could enjoy her life as a kid her age should."

"She is happy helping the family, dear," Cat replied, and I felt a knot in my stomach hearing that. It was because of my actions that she couldn't play or do other childish things to pass the time. Instead, she worked from waking up until dawn trying to fix the mess I made.

Cat, seeing this, jabbed me softly in the head. "None of that, dear," she huffed. "I don't know how many times we need to say this, but this is not your fault."

I lowered my head, knowing that if I couldn't show weakness outside my solar, Cat was the one who had seen me at my most vulnerable and loved me despite this.

"It doesn't feel that way," I sighed. "If I hadn't trusted Littlefinger, if I didn't try to save Cersei, none of this would have happened."

Catelyn sighed, her hand moving along my head with surprising tenderness. "Your honor is one of the reasons I fell in love with you, dear."

Taking a deep breath, she continued, "You made mistakes, we cannot say the opposite, but you did them because it was the right thing to do. It is not your fault that other people see honor as something that can be used only when they gain something out of it."

"Besides that, stop thinking about them. I'm sure Robb will make them pay for their sins." She continued with an air of certainty, and with what we had heard, she might be right.

News traveled slowly in Westeros, but since we came back to Winterfell, we heard about his victory against the Freys. The same nagging voice in my head that told me everything was my fault condemned Robb's ruthlessness against the male line of Freys, but logically I knew he had done the best he could. They had been blocking the access to the south, neglecting their oath to their liege lords.

Walder Frey's character was known to me; I had to personally deal with him during Robert's Rebellion. He was self-serving, greedy, and ambitious beyond his level. He asked for things no lord would accept if they weren't anxious for the meager support his house could provide.

Shaking my head to get rid of these thoughts, I focused on the present.

"Any news of Robb?" I asked.

"Nay," Catelyn replied, "The last time we heard of him, he was traveling to Riverrun to support my father."

I felt a pit in my stomach at that. Robb was blessed by the gods, and while that was enough for most of the northern population to follow him to the south, as his father, it preoccupied me. I knew he was capable—hells, he was way more capable than I was at leading people—but he was going to fight against the Lannisters. The Lannisters, while I despised them for what they had done in the past and would probably do in the future until Robb stopped them, was a house filled with genius in warfare, and they had the gold to splurge on supplies and bribery.

"I will pray to the Old Gods for his victory," I said firmly. "But enough about that, please fill me in with the happenings in the North while I was away."

With everything going on, I didn't have the time to learn about what had changed. I was in meetings with the rest of the lords every day to find out what was the best course of action to take to fulfill Robb's orders. We had been debating all these weeks who should focus on which parts of the North, planning supply lines from the Neck to the Wall. I had been so busy, I wasn't able to even check on my children personally.

Hopefully, all that would end today, since last night we finished planning with Lord Umber, Lady Mormont, and Lord Karstark. Today we would talk with the rest of the lords so that everyone knew what to do for the prosperity of our kingdom.

"As you told me that Robb explained, the military force of the North is a third of what we had. Besides the esteemed lords of the North, every young able-bodied person has gone to the south with Robb, including some of the heirs of different houses. But thankfully, Robb was able to predict this and didn't leave us defenseless. With the recruits every house was ordered to teach, according to Maester Luwin, we have over ten thousand apprentices. Ser Rodrik says that most of them are still green, but they will help if push comes to shove."

"And with half of the army, we will be able to secure our borders just as Robb decreed," I nodded. "Is there any news of the Wall and the Ironborn?"

"Yes, dear," Catelyn replied, taking a seat next to me. "Maester Aemon sent a raven thanking us for the support we provided. They have started manning the Wall and using the supplies we sent to fix some of the castles. But even with all our help, they still need people for that."

"Aye," I nodded. "Robb told us in his last message that more than four hundred Frey soldiers decided to join the defense of the Wall. They will arrive in the next couple of weeks by Maester Luwin's estimate."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Yes, Lord Flint of Flint's Finger sent a raven. According to him, there have been multiple sightings of pirates on his shores. I'm afraid that means the Ironborn will start moving soon," Catelyn continued, pressing her body against mine.

Leaning into her warmth, I felt myself relaxing, and I couldn't help thanking Robb for this idea. I truly needed the support of my wife and children if I ever wanted to escape this slump I found myself in, and I was sure that participating in another war would only make it worse.

"Good. Today at the meeting we will start sending parts of the army to each keep," I said firmly. "No invader will shed northern blood without paying the consequences. I will not fail again."

Catelyn, instead of replying, kissed me, and I felt myself leaning into her.

At night

Winterfell Great Hall.

Being back in the Great Hall of Winterfell felt more peaceful than I had imagined. The last weeks I had been here, I was swamped with work and meetings in my solar, incapable of sharing my time with my children or wife while they feasted. Thanks to Robb's power and ideas, the North no longer felt the fear of going a long time without food, not that Winterfell ever felt that besides the truly dangerous winters in the past. But since I was alive, there was never a shortage of food in the castle, and thanks to my son, there would never be one again if the gods willed it.

The northern lords had gathered for this feast, the ones that had come with me from Moat Cailin, along with the ones who had their territories closer to Winterfell. But despite the warmth the castle provided, there was a palpable tension in the air as they awaited my orders. While I was no longer the Warden of the North, I was named by our king to be in charge of the protection of our lands, and I would not fail anymore.

I stood at the head of the hall, and I could feel the weight of this responsibility in my bones. Robb was far in the south, fighting for our lands, to see them prosper and bring justice to the realm. And now, the North itself faced threats from within and beyond, and it fell on me to protect it.

As soon as I stood up, the room fell silent.

"The Ironborn stir on their isles," I said with a grave voice. "Reports came from Flint's Finger that some raiders are testing our shores, scouting them. We cannot wait for them to strike while our strength is already spread thin."

Lord Manderly, the only lord who had come from afar, was seated nearest to the fire. "White Harbor stands ready, Lord Stark. Since there are no movements from the Three Sisters, we will send what ships I can spare to patrol the coast. The ships of the mermen that had been in King's Landing and Essos started to move to Flint's Finger and Sea Dragon Point when the war started. Some of them will probably arrive in the next couple of days, but the ones that were far away will take longer."

Lady Mormont interjected at that point, "The Ironborn are despicable, but they know how to raid. They will seek the weakest spot."

"Then we must not give them one," I replied. "We will send men to the shores, reinforce our coastal keeps—Flint's Finger, Bear Island, Deepwood Motte. Since Lord Glover is taking care of Moat Cailin, is there someone who volunteers to protect his lands while he is not there?"

Lord Harclay, one of the northern mountain clans, stood up. "This is an important moment for the North. If you would like, Lord Stark, I will take care of Deepwood Motte in Lord Glover's stead."

I nodded at him in thanks. Lord Glover had left his keep to fulfill Robb's request, and if something were to happen to his lands while he was away, I would not be able to forgive myself. "I appreciate the help, Lord Harclay. You will ride at dawn and take six thousand men with you. There, you will work with Lord Flint and Lady Mormont and spread the forces across the coastal keeps."

"With our coast taken care of, there is one topic we need to talk about," I said firmly, my eyes scanning the room. "The Wall needs men as well. I've had ravens from Castle Black. According to Robb's dreams, winter is closer than any of us expected, and with the threat of the White Walkers, the Wall needs every sword they can get. The Ironborn may be a present threat, but what lies beyond the Wall will be far worse."

Lord Jon Umber stood up with a scowl on his face. "Aye, and the Umbers will have to guard the south and the north both? My men are strong, but we can't fight shadows and raiders all at once."

"I know that what I ask is hard, Lord Umber," I said with a soft tone, "But the Wall is our first line of defense against the darkness that approaches. If we do not send men to support them, the dead will be our enemy soon enough."

"What about the prisoners His Grace is sending to the Wall?" asked Lady Mormont.

"The last we heard, four hundred men of the Frey will willingly help the Wall," I replied, "But as you know, that won't be enough."

"I will send five hundred of my boys in the meantime," Lord Umber grunted, "I'll mix them if the Ironborn manage to reach Last Hearth, but it must be done."

I nodded with gratitude towards him. Besides his gruff demeanor and toxic tongue, he was the lord I could trust with my life. The Umbers had never rebelled and supported the Starks in every venture possible.

"We will make sure they don't manage to reach your keep, Jon. We will hold the south. The Wall is our duty, but there is one more matter, a grim one," I said with a frown on my face.

The lords exchanged glances as I continued, "Skagos has not answered our summons. They hold the dragonglass we need—dragonglass that may be our only defense against the White Walkers, should they manage to reach the Wall. But the island remains silent. We must deal with them, one way or another."

Lord Karstark, who had been silent until now, spoke, "The Skagosi are wild and proud. Perhaps they see no reason to heed our call. The North does not have the ships for an invasion when we are using them to take care of our shores, but perhaps a delegation can be sent. One that shows our strength, maybe that will convince them."

"We need the dragonglass," Lord Manderly agreed with a firm tone, "Perhaps a hundred men could accompany whoever leads this delegation. I can spare a galleon for this venture."

"You have my thanks, my lord," I nodded, "If they continue to refuse, we will deal with the Ironborn first and then invade the island. It is not something I want, but I will do so if needed. We need the dragonglass, and their pride is not worth the lives of the rest of the North."

"Well said, my lord," nodded Rickard Karstark, "If you want, my master-at-arms can lead the delegation. My family has experience dealing with the Skagosi."

The lords murmured in agreement, but I could see the weariness on their faces. The North was vast, but we were surrounded by enemies.

"The rest of the army will remain here at Winterfell, ready to be sent wherever they are needed. My son is fighting in the south, and we will make sure he returns to a North that he can be proud of," I banged the table.

"For the Starks!" shouted Lord Umber, raising his cup.

Before the rest could continue, Maester Luwin, who was so busy he needed to eat in his office, entered the great hall with great haste.

"My lords," he panted, "I bring great news."

Motioning for him to join me at the main table, I could not help but wonder what this was about. In all his years under my employ, I hadn't seen Luwin with this much emotion; he was almost trembling in agitation.

"What news do you bring, Maester Luwin?" I asked, feeling anxious at seeing him like that.

"My lords," the maester continued, "His Grace Robb Stark has just finished his first battle."

A silence fell over the hall when the maester finished those words, and I felt my anxiousness spark. This would have been Robb's first battle, at least at that level and in the open. He always preferred to do so while his enemies least expected it, so the nervousness came back with a vengeance.

"How did he do, Maester?" Cat asked with a tremor in her voice, and inwardly I thanked her for asking, since I was sure my voice would come out the same, and I couldn't show weakness to my vassals.

"He did spectacularly, my lady," the maester replied, "In fact, I'm sure he will be the talk of Westeros in the near future."

Roars and cheers could be heard in the hall, and I allowed a small smile to appear on my face, feeling the anxiousness disappear. "Details, Maester. We want to hear about Robb's victory."

"Of course, my lord," the maester nodded and took a piece of cloth to clean the perspiration on his brow. "His Grace gave half of his army to Lord Edmure Tully, which he took to Mummer's Ford to battle against Jaime Lannister's host. According to the news, Tywin Lannister was laying siege to Riverrun with twenty-five thousand soldiers, and Jaime's host has a little under fifteen thousand men."

Cat's hand went to her mouth with concern hearing that her brother would be leading that host, and I put my arm around her to calm her down. I was sure that everything would be good. Robb had good commanders with him who could help him plan, and they would not leave something like this to chance.

"So His Grace fought with seventeen thousand men against Tywin's twenty-five?" asked Lord Karstark with a frown.

The maester shook his head, but I could see he was excited to continue, and everyone was listening with their utmost attention, including Sansa, who was praying in her seat, and Arya, who was jumping with emotion. Of the boys, only Bran was listening with attention, since Rickon had left with a servant to sleep as it was late. At his side, Jojen and Meera Reed had smirks on their faces, which made me wonder if they somehow knew what had happened.

According to Cat, they had arrived some weeks after Robb left to save me, and they had been spending time with Bran, helping him with something all three were tight-lipped about.

The maester continued, "His Grace gave ten thousand men to Ser Brynden Tully, and then helped them to hide in the mountains near Tumblestone. Then he met Tywin Lannister's forces with only seven thousand men."

Before anyone could interrupt him, the maester continued, and I was glad that he did so, since it seemed like a stupid decision by Robb. But since Luwin said he brought good news, I just waited to hear about them.

"Robb and the Northern heirs met Tywin's vanguard. Lord Tywin sent five thousand men against the two thousand that His Grace sent at the beginning, and then they started the battle. The letter was written by the maester at Riverrun, and according to him, the northern army showed their strength, cutting down the Lannister men without problems."

"After that, it appears that Lord Tywin sent his cavalry against King Robb, but he had opened some burrows in the ground where they fell and started killing them. According to the maester, His Grace killed Ser Mambrand and continued to hack through the men of the Westerlands." After finishing that part, the maester drank some wine, and I could see that his excitement hadn't lessened.

"What else?" asked Lord Karstark, sitting at the edge of his seat, the same as most lords present. Luwin had told the tale like it was something from the age of heroes, and everyone wanted to hear more. Arya wasn't sitting anymore, running all over the place saying that she had the best brother ever, something that made me hide a snort. People of Robb's caliber weren't easy to find.

Sansa had her eyes opened wide, and Lady Elise was next to her showing the same excitement.

"It ended up being a trap set by His Grace," the maester smiled wildly, his composure forgotten. "When Lord Tywin attacked with all his forces to try and save his cavalry, Ser Brynden attacked from behind and King Robb separated the Lannister men with wildfire based on the maester's studies. He writes that it was different from the one the Mad King used since it didn't spread and it died by itself when the battle was over. Not a single Riverlander or Northerner died thanks to the fire."

Cheers erupted all around, and the maester cleared his throat.

"But that's not all..." he said but trailed off to create suspense. "King Robb has captured Lord Tywin, his brother Kevan Lannister, and the Mountain that Rides."

If I thought the screams of joy I heard before were loud, they could not compare to the ones I was hearing right now. Everyone was out of their seats chanting for the Starks and banging their mugs on the table. People were hugging each other and some even teared up with emotion.

"What of our children?" asked Lady Mormont, with a happy smile that dimmed a little when she thought something had happened to them.

"All are good; no one suffered any injuries among the heirs that followed King Robb," the maester assured the lords, and I felt the weight of my responsibilities disappear altogether.

Robb had done wonderfully, and as his father, I would do the same. There was no time to feel depressed about my past actions. Now, I would work with everything I had to do as he asked. I would enjoy life with my family, and when we reunited in the future, I would make sure to correct all the wrongs I had committed.

"What about his losses?" I asked, and the maester frowned for a moment.

"The maester says that Lord Torrhen counted five hundred dead and over a thousand injured. I have no more information about that," he shook his head. In truth, it was a resounding victory. Losing so few people against an army almost twice its size was commendable. I would not have been able to do the same in his place, and that showed that he truly was the right option to lead the North.

I am pretty sure that a lot of lords would have felt angry if their son surpassed them, but I was not one of them. I was proud of him, and I would follow him until my death.

"Any more news, Maester?" asked Lord Umber.

"Aye," he nodded. "It appears young Torrhen is traveling back to the North."

Lord Karstark frowned deeply upon hearing that. "Did you not say that none of our children suffered injuries? Why would His Grace send my son back?"

I was afraid of this; if Lord Karstark was offended, it could complicate things.

"He is fine, my lord," the maester shook his head. "According to the letter, young Torrhen was chosen by His Grace to lead over five thousand loyal men in a caravan toward the Wall. He is bringing five thousand Lannister soldiers, picked by His Grace himself to help at the Wall."

Lord Karstark's frown lessened and he nodded, taking his seat back. "What of the rest of the Lannisters?" he asked.

"Lord Jon said that it wasn't a good idea to have so many enemies in one place. That's the reason only five thousand men are coming here right now. It appears that they decided to send them in groups so that they can acclimate to the Wall and not try to escape, knowing the threat of the White Walkers," the maester replied, walking around to gather his thoughts. "He is right; if they had sent more men at once, there is the risk that the Lannisters could take over the Wall and cause danger to the rest of us. The best approach would be to follow their lead."

"Aye," I nodded resolutely. "Is there anything else?"

"Only a message to Sansa and Lady Elise. It appears that His Grace wants to bring Dorne to the fold. He is asking for you both to send a message to Prince Oberyn Martell, that he has the Mountain sedated and wrapped for him as a gift."

Sansa nodded, and I felt proud to see her act so mature. She and Lady Elise stood up from their seats and started bouncing ideas of what way would be best to approach the notorious Prince of Dorne.

"If everything is done, we can rest," I said with a firm voice. "Everyone knows their duty, and I trust we will be victorious."

Everyone started to leave, but I raised my voice one last time.

"Lord Manderly, I hoped that you could accompany me to my solar."

The fat lord nodded seriously and stayed back. When everyone was gone, we started walking to my solar, accompanied by Cat and the maester.

"To what do I owe this honor?" joked the lord.

"There is one topic Robb asked me to talk to you about, my lord," I replied with a sigh, wondering if having Cat with me was the best idea.

"Oh?" he asked. "Do tell, my lord."

"What of the secret cargo you were in charge of? Do you have any news about that?" I asked, wondering what this was about. Robb only told me to ask, but he didn't explain anything to me.

Lord Manderly went silent for a second before he sighed. "Lord Tyrion has arrived safely in Astapor. It was a trying journey, but my men took him safe and sound."

"Lord Tyrion?" asked Cat, and I wondered what Robb had planned. Since his stay here, I knew Tyrion wasn't like the rest of his family, but I asked myself what Robb hoped to accomplish with this.

"I don't know much, my lady. I'm afraid I just did as His Grace asked me to," Lord Manderly replied softly. "But if I've learned something about His Grace, it is not to doubt him. He, at fourteen, has managed to do things no one else has, and while I follow the Faith of the Seven, it is easy to see he has truly been touched by the Old Gods. King Robb will lead us to greatness. I'm sure he knows what he is doing."

"Aye, he will," I nodded. "I suppose he asked me to talk with you about this so that I could inform him about this... Astapor, you say?" I hummed and my eyes widened.

"Surely not," I murmured, and the rest looked at me in alarm.

"What are you thinking about, dear?" asked Catelyn, anxious.

"The last location known of Daenerys Targaryen while I was in King's Landing was Vaes Dothrak... and she was traveling to Qarth according to the Spider," I replied, deep in thought.

"What does Robb want with the exiled princess, I wonder?"

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Five days later.

Robb Stark.

As the saying goes, man makes plans, and the Gods laugh. I was required to stay in Riverrun instead of supporting Uncle Edmure against Jaime. The main reason for that was something my grandfather told me.

If my aim was to be a king, I needed to delegate even these kinds of actions, since there would be a moment when I would not be able to be present in all conflicts. My generals or trusted people needed to learn how to act without my presence. It was true that my power gave me an edge no one else in Westeros had, but that meant if my generals got complacent with my presence, they would be defeated without me.

For that reason, I had to work on something in the castle—the bane of all rulers: paperwork.

Looking at the stacks of parchments my grandfather had in his possession, I shuddered at the thought of the future. If this amount of paper was for a single kingdom, I could not even imagine what it would be like when all of them were under my rule.

For now, I needed to focus. War was something that took time, and for that reason, I needed to learn about the lands that were under me, even if the Riverlands had not bent the knee yet. I was not worried about it, since when Edmure defeated Jaime's host, my grandfather assured me they would do so.

It was the best course of action for them since if I left the Riverlands untouched if they didn't bend the knee, they would be open to different reprisals. That alone made it worth it for the Riverlords. The extra security I would need to implement when they made me their king would be enough for them.

The lands of the Riverlands were fertile and vast, making them one of the most agriculturally productive regions in Westeros. Due to their network of rivers, such as the Trident and its tributaries, the land had the opportunity to be well irrigated, allowing for a wider range of crops and food production compared to the North. If my special fertilizer made the North flourish, I was giddy to find out what it would do to the Riverlands.

With my powers and the help of the lords, I was sure we could make the Riverlands a better place to farm than the Reach. And when I was in control of the Tyrells, I was sure I would be able to stop famine in Westeros.

I knew that an abundance of food could be problematic, even if it sounded perfect. First of all, the price would drop, and while that would be advantageous to customers, it would be bad for the farmers and producers by reducing their income, making it difficult for them to recover their costs. This, at least, could be worked on in the future. If I managed to make it almost trivial to plant food with the help of learned men, we could solve this.

But that was not the only problem that an overabundance of food brought—storing food would be almost impossible in these lands. However, since I was already controlling the North, I was sure we could do something.

Shaking my head, I tried to focus on the map. All these problems were for the future me. The Riverlands needed to be secured first, and for that reason, I needed to close the borders, just as I did in the North.



The Riverlands were in the middle of Westeros, and they had borders with six of the Seven Kingdoms, if you counted the Iron Islands.

The Vale was not a problem, at least for now, but the Reach, Crownlands, and Westerlands could be. For that reason, we needed to move fast.

While King's Landing was weak, they could make some trouble on the King's Road. The Reach would take at least a month to mobilize if they even managed that. I knew from experience that Renly had a hate boner for his brother Stannis, so I was sure he would try to attack him now that he was weak. I didn't know how that would end, probably with Renly's death, but what would happen next was the problem.

If the Reach lost Renly, the Queen of Thorns would move to the next claimant for the throne who could help her. And while I was an option, I doubted I would be lucky enough to gain their allegiance. No, I was sure they would ally with Aegon. Even if they doubted his legitimacy, I was certain Olenna would try her best to get him married to Margaery.

That did not worry me much, though. No, the thing that scared me the most was Melisandre. She was a hard counter to me. Her shadow creatures were dangerous, but her fire scared me. If she had a buffed-up version of what she showed in the series, she could make my insects trivial.

While I could order my insects to attack, they would be burned to cinders, and I would lose them instantly. I didn't know if the insects I created to snuff out the wildfire would work on her flames since she was connected to her Lord of Light.

The Old Gods called him a monstrosity, and that scared me. Since the Old Gods were almost eldritch beings to me, I did not want to imagine what something had to be for them to call it that.

"Why are you so preoccupied, Robb?" asked my grandfather, who had just entered my solar.

Giving him a tight smile, I replied, "So many things, grandfather."

"Do tell," he smiled, and I huffed.

"Everything. The war, the lands, my people," I continued. Hoster Tully had been helping me a lot these past few days, and while he was still sick, some of the Green Men had been able to alleviate his sickness a little bit. He was still ill, and I doubted he had much longer to live, mostly because of his age, but he was better—at least enough to move around the castle.

"I know what you feel, grandson," he replied, putting his hand on my back as he sat next to me.

"The weight of responsibility," he continued. "Let's go one by one. Tell me, what is the most pressing problem?"

"I want to close the borders. We are way too vulnerable in the middle of Westeros," I replied, wondering how many men I would lose to do so. While my army sounded big, I didn't have enough men available to guard all the keeps on the borders, and I also needed to continue my campaign.



"Aye, it is needed," he nodded. "First of all, we need to man Wayfarer's Rest. I'm sure Lord Vance will be capable of that with little support, but even so, there is more to do. House Vypren will have to guard that side of the Westerlands."

"Aye, I was thinking of sending Lord Vypren back home with a thousand men to take care of that."

"I'm afraid that is no longer an option, grandson," he shook his head. "The last Vypren died during the battle, and his wife fell ill during captivity by the Lannister men."

"Fuck," I grunted, banging the table. "If it's not one thing, it's another."



"What do you propose?" I asked.

"We can send some of the lords of the northern part of the Riverlands for that," he waved his hand. "I'm sure Lord Darry would be up to it. He was really sad that he could not reach you before you marched here."

"If he manages to survive the battle against Jaime," I replied. "I should be there, helping."

"You need to trust Edmure, Robb," he laughed, and I knew it was true, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

"I trust him," I snapped. "I trust my people, but my presence would make everything go more smoothly."

Before he could continue, our conversation was brought to a halt by the entrance of Jon. My cousin had been busy these past few days visiting the Mountain, who was paralyzed thanks to my venoms. He had been in his cell doing all kinds of things to him. While he hasn't harmed him much besides a punch to the head, he has been depriving him of sleep, visiting him with Ghost.

Jon was pissed, but Father had taught him well. He would not succumb to vengeance.

"Robb," he started, "a raven arrived from Seagard."

I noticed that my grandfather's eyes tightened at Jon's presence, but that was not important for now, even if I made a mental note to fix this before it became a problem. I was sure he saw Jon as a threat, or maybe just an annoyance as my father's proof of "infidelity." And while I would not disclose Jon's true parentage, I thought it would be good to tell him that he was not my father's bastard.

I could not have problems within our ranks, even less so from people who were "high-ranking" in my command. Petty squabbles would have to wait until the war for the throne was over.

Focusing on Jon, I replied, "What happened, Jon? What does Patrek say?"



"The Ironborn made their first move," he replied with a sigh, and my head hit the wall with a bang.

Wonderful, just what I needed. Another variable joining the scuffle. I knew that they did not aim for the Iron Throne, at least, Theon's father did not. But how long would that last? How long until Euron Greyjoy took control of the Iron Islands? I still did not know anything about him apart from his apparent madness. I was hoping for the best, ignoring the teleportation show in the series (A/N: lol). He was dangerous but beatable, but I prepared for the worst. If he was like the books, my conquest would meet the first hurdle in him, probably.

In both characterizations, he was a sadist and cruel, being famous for that, either physically or psychologically. His own crew aboard his ship Silence had their tongues cut out, and he was known for his horrific acts. I did not remember well if this happened in the shows, but I knew he had molested his brothers since they were young, one of the reasons they all were afraid of him.

But his brutality was the least of my problems; it was the mysticism and dark knowledge. Euron in the books had experimented with dark magic, along with traveling to a LOT of dangerous places, like Valyria and Asshai, gathering arcane knowledge. He possessed a Valyrian steel suit of armor, making him almost impenetrable, and was said to be interested in becoming a god through magical means.

Having spent almost five years in Westeros, a lot of my memories were blurred, but I remembered this well. If he was like that, I hoped I would be capable of defeating him. And if I did? I knew the loot would be glorious.

Hiding my inner gamer self, I thought about what Jon had said. Since he came at a sedate pace, I knew there was not much to worry about since Seagard was manned to the brim and had the support of Robin.

"What happened, Jon?" I tried to ask calmly, still dreading the implications that Euron would come soon.

"They were repelled," he replied simply, and I heard grandfather letting a breath out at hearing that.

"But not without losses. None of those were of note, but Patrek lost five hundred men defending his lands," Jon continued. "The Ironborn assault was led by Victarion Greyjoy and his niece, Asha Greyjoy, Theon's sister apparently."

"Tell me the contents of the raven," I ordered.

Seagard

Asha Greyjoy.

The air was thick with the smell of salt water, and I felt at peace. Here, in the ocean, with my crew members preparing to attack the Greenlanders in Westeros, this was what life was meant to be—paying the iron price.

For now, our ships were directed to Seagard, House Mallister's home, and a blight for the Ironborn. Seagard was created with the sole purpose of defending the Riverlands from an Ironborn invasion, and it deserved to burn under our might. Uncle Victarion was in the lead, but ten more ships were behind us. Everyone was filled with excitement to reave through the keep, hoping to find salt wives or thralls to work in the salt mines.

Everything was going well for us. Lord Mallister had left Seagard to support his liege lords, leaving his green son in charge of the defenses of his ancestral home.

But I had a nagging feeling at the back of my head. We had stopped receiving news from Seagard a while back, and we didn't know why or how. Did they find our spies? If they did, would they be prepared for us? I did not think so, but it was a possibility.

I tried to talk to Uncle Victarion about this, but he did not want to hear me talk. Once again, my opinion was being ignored just because of what I had between my legs. For everything I did, my crewmates got the praise and were often mocked for following a woman.

I snorted, attracting the attention of my second-in-command. Edd was a young Ironborn from Pyke, whom I had known since childhood. Losing Theon when we were younger, thanks to the foolishness of my father, made it hard for me to enjoy my childhood in the castle. And here we were again, going against the rest of the kingdoms for my father when we had no hope of winning. At least now the rest of the mainlanders were occupied with their petty squabbles for the Iron Throne, so they would not be able to mount a significant defense.

Our main objective for this attack was to burn Seagard to the ground, or at least debilitate it enough so that a future incursion would be easier. The Riverlands were occupied by the Lannister forces as of the last report, with Riverrun being sieged by Tywin Lannister himself.

Thinking of Theon brought a weird feeling to my chest. I did not know how our reunion would be. Would he be infected with the North's cultural differences? Or would he still act as an Ironborn? I didn't know the answer to this, but if he was weak, I would not hesitate to take the Seastone Chair for myself. I had paid the price; I was the best option for now, discounting my uncles, of course.

But Victarion was not meant to lead. He was way too headstrong for that and would seek more trouble than it was worth. Theon, I did not know, but he wouldn't receive the support of the Ironborn for being a ward of the Starks. The less said about Euron, the better. He was scary from what I remembered, and he was still exiled, doing whatever, and Aeron was a priest of the Drowned God.

No, I was the better option for ruling. I understood enough to know that we could not oppose all the kingdoms at the same time, unlike Father. Our best bet would be to reave through the North and take enough timber from their forests to increase our naval power, making it strong enough so that the rest of the kingdoms think twice before attacking us.

But for now, here I was, leading my crew against Patrek Mallister.

"How long until we land?" I asked Edd.

"We can already see the harbor, Asha," he replied. "Some minutes until arrival."

"What about their defenses?" I asked, wondering how manned the keep was.

Usually, Seagard had three to four thousand soldiers, but that was calling the sword houses and knights that lived in their territory. Whenever the Ironborn attacked in the past, if they managed to reach it secretly, they would fight less than two thousand soldiers. But now that Jason Mallister had left for Riverrun, following the Young Wolf to help his family, it was possible that there would be fewer.

"They've already spotted us, Asha," Edd said, shaking his head. "With all these longships under your Uncle Victarion, it would be impossible to go incognito. I can see the soldiers helping the merchants out of the harbor."

"How many men, Edd?" I asked urgently. If they knew we were coming, we would fight as soon as we docked, and they could mount defenses before that.

"Around a thousand," he said uncertainly before nodding seriously, "I think a thousand men."

That was good. We had twelve ships with us, each carrying around a hundred soldiers. If the thousand men Edd said were correct, we had the upper hand in numbers alone.

"It is a shame they are waiting for us," I murmured. "We would have an advantage at sea."

"Aye," Edd smirked. "There is no one as good as an Ironborn at sailing."

I smirked back at him. "I will go and talk with my uncle before we disembark. Make sure every axe is sharpened; we have Mallisters to kill."

"Aye aye, Cap," he saluted mockingly.

Walking around the deck, I observed the soldiers preparing for battle. The Ironborn always wore their armor even at sea since the best way to die was to drown, according to our religion. But they were checking their equipment one last time before the battle.

We, the Ironborn, fight with a fierce and ruthless style, and it was true, that we favored surprise raids and ambushes to catch our enemies off guard. But that didn't mean we were weak on the mainland. Our fierce style made our attack chaotic enough so that no one knew what to expect. Since most Ironborns didn't follow orders, and the commanders did not usually give them, we all attacked differently. Some may prefer to charge from the front, while others try to sneak around and jump when someone least expects it.

For now, I believe we have the advantage. If we were fighting in open quarters, I would be nervous, but the harbor of Seagard had a lot of buildings, forcing the Mallister men to fight close to us as we favored.

As soon as I got closer to my uncle, I could hear him scream.

"Ready the men!" Victarion barked, his voice carrying over the sound of a hundred men preparing for battle. "Tonight, we burn Seagard to the ground!"

The crew surged with fervor, and I was sure their shouts could be heard from the other longships. I watched as my uncle's presence ignited a primal urge for bloodshed in our men. I felt the same fire in my belly, but I was intelligent enough to have a tinge of caution. Seagard was not an easy target, even when the men and lord weren't present. The Mallisters were seasoned warriors, and I was sure Jason had left someone with experience just in case something like this happened.

As we approached the harbor, the silhouettes of Seagard's tall towers loomed ahead. The first line of defense was already in place, something I hadn't seen in all my life.

The soldiers were grouped up, which would be good for us since many of them would die from the first volley of arrows. However, they had some strange shields made of something not metal, gray-colored, and larger than normal. The bad feeling intensified, but we were so close that retreating would only hurt our reputation.

I raised my hand, signaling the archers to prepare.

"Once we land, we hit hard and fast," I instructed, trying to keep my voice steady. "We split their forces to the buildings and seize the gates before they can react."

Uncle Victarion nodded, his eyes narrowed in anticipation. "Remember to grab their women! I will only take a small sum of what you find."

This was something some of the captains did: while the crew plundered, the captain directed, and at the end, a percentage of the loot would be his. I didn't do this, as I liked to fight on the frontlines, so my crew got to keep what they found. One of the reasons they followed me, I guess.

With a roar, we beached the ships, and our men poured onto the sand, axes raised and swords drawn.

Looking in awe, I saw the strange shields protect every single one of the soldiers huddled together, and I clicked my tongue. "This started bad," I murmured.

The Mallister men ran toward us, and the clash of steel rang as we met their first line of defenders. I fought at my uncle's side, my dagger flashing in the moonlight before it was painted crimson with the blood of my first victim.

They were better prepared than I expected, but nothing insurmountable.

The battlefield quickly devolved into chaos, and our men were happy to reciprocate with violence inside the buildings. We had the advantage here, as our axes were small enough to fight in cramped spaces, while their spears and swords were too large to swing without risking injuring their own.

I could feel my excitement soar through the roof—this was the life. Slashing the neck of another Greenlander, I roared before attacking the next. Men always doubted my prowess in battle, but while my strength was not comparable to theirs, my agility surpassed them easily.

Uncle Victarion was also cutting through the defenders like a hot knife through butter. "Push forward!" he roared, cleaving through their ranks with brutal efficiency. Blood sprayed from our enemies, soaking the floor with its crimson color.

Yet the defenders were prepared. They fought with desperation only those defending their home could muster, and I was confused as to why there were some Northerners here. Their physical characteristics were easy to spot after attacking their shores for so long.

They fought with more brutality than I expected, and the biggest surprise was how they fought. I had always heard about the cohesion the Unsullied troops had, and I imagined it was something like this. They fought together as a unit—whenever someone was overpowered, another took his place in the battle, saving their lives while the defeated one caught his breath. While not all of them survived, the death of their companions only burned their spirits stronger than ever.

Before long, I could hear the sound of horses approaching, and I knew this was going to turn into the worst possible outcome. The number of hooves I could hear was alarming, and it didn't make any sense. If Jason Mallister had taken a large part of his bannermen to support the Tullys, why were there so many defenders in place?

"Regroup!" I shouted, but it was too late. Uncle Victarion, driven by rage, pressed forward, leaving our flanks exposed. I, on the other hand, tried to regroup with my crew, taking any Ironborn we could find while dodging a swing by a hair that nearly took my head.

The bastard who dared to do that was dead, of course, but that didn't mean we were safe yet. Our men were being flanked from all sides except our rear, giving us the option to retreat back to our ships, something I hoped we were capable of doing even with the heavy losses we would suffer.

"Uncle, we need to fall back!" I shouted, but it was for naught. Victarion, so lost in his element, either didn't hear me or chose to ignore me. We were running out of time. Desperately, I ran toward him, helping him against a particularly tough opponent before pushing him to the ground as my uncle cut his head off.

"Uncle, we are surrounded. We need to retreat. NOW!" I repeated myself, smacking him on the head to clear his thoughts of the bloodshed.

He still had the gall to hesitate, so caught up in the thrill of battle, but at least my slap did its work clearing the fog in his head. With a fierce growl, he turned, rallying the rest of the Ironborn. "We're not done yet; we will take this hold!"

I was so stressed I wanted to scream. Once more, this situation made me realize the problem of my sex. When I shouted, trying to rally our men for retreat, only some of the remaining Ironborn followed my lead, besides my crewmates who were still alive. None of the others even tried to follow me, even if I was saving their lives. But when Uncle Victarion shouted? Everyone heard him and followed his orders, even if it meant their deaths.



I wasn't even capable of counting the number of defenders that came from our flanks in such a short time, but they were turning the tide of the battle, and I could do nothing but huff in frustration at the situation we found ourselves in.

Slashing my daggers through the air, I killed some of the soldiers attacking us, but it was for naught. We killed one, and three more took his place, fighting with renewed vigor after seeing their brothers die.

I watched in abject horror as our ranks began to dwindle, their bodies making it difficult to move without tripping. The smell of shit and blood was all-encompassing, and I swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in my throat. The tide had turned completely, and we were being decimated. We had killed so many men, but it was for nothing.

When an arrow flew past me and I heard Uncle Victarion scream in pain, I knew it was my time to act. "Retreat!" I shouted with all my might, grabbing Victarion's injured arm, an arrow sticking out from his shoulder. Since we did not use metal armor, preferring to have boiled leather as defense, arrows were particularly dangerous to us. "We lost too many men. We will regroup and return another day!"

Uncle Victarion scowled at the thought of running away, but even with his small brain, he could see that if we stayed, they would kill us all. The battle was lost. With a grimace, he nodded, leading the retreat as we fell back to our ships, and the cries of the wounded being helped would make my nightmares particularly fun in the future.

Not all of them could be saved, and I hoped they received a fast death. Some of our men were held hostage, while others lay on their backs or stomachs, bleeding out and hoping for death.

As we boarded the Iron Victory, I tried to take stock of our losses. Over six hundred men lay dead on the sands of the harbor, and many more did not make it to our ships. The thought of the Riverlanders and Northerners keeping them did not sit well with me, but there was nothing I could do about it. I didn't even have fire to light them up.

Victarion's eyes were dark as he surveyed the battlefield, a mix of anger and regret crossing his features. That did it for me. Marching up to his face, I shouted, "I told you we needed to retreat before we lost so many men! Now the Mallisters have access to our ships, and many Ironborn are held hostage!"

Victarion snarled and raised his uninjured hand to strike me. Thankfully, he was weakened by the arrow, and I was able to move out of the way. Getting closer to him once more, I punched him in the stomach, making him double over in pain. "This is your fault, Uncle. You let your anger get the better of you, and see where it got us? We lost so many men! Don't you see? We lost! And now they will be better prepared for future attacks."

Sighing, I helped him stand up. I was pissed at him, but I didn't want him dead.

He looked at me with murder in his eyes, but the regret came back in full force. "Aye, you are right, Asha," he admitted, lowering his head.

Before I could answer, his eyes locked onto mine. "It was my mistake, and I will make up for it. But remember niece, I am the Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet. I control the largest and most powerful fleet of the Iron Islands. I'm sure you know why it would be unwise to strike me again. I will let this one pass since tension and stress can do things to people, but if you do so once more, I'm sure I will make you regret it. Balon won't be able to stop it."

My tirade was cut short, and my body tensed before giving him a firm nod. "I apologize, Uncle," I admitted. "I lost many of my friends in this raid, and I cannot take it out on the Mallisters."

Victarion simply nodded before looking out to the shore, where the defenders were taking care of the wounded and the hostages, and taking control of the ships we were forced to leave behind.

"We will return," he vowed with a fierce voice, a scowl back on his face.

"Next time, we will attack with the full force of the Iron Fleet, and they won't be so fortunate."

"They won't know what to expect next. We will be victorious," I nodded resolutely. This insult won't stand; they will pay for the blood they shed, and we will defeat them—I was sure of that.

"But where did all those soldiers come from?" I asked the most important question. If Jason Mallister took a large part of his forces, it didn't make any sense what just happened.

Victarion shook his head. "Northerners," he scoffed. "I would know; they speak the same way the people of Bear Island do."

"We need to make sure they pay for this," I replied simply. "Maybe we should focus on them before coming back to the Riverlands. I'm sure all that timber would be enough to double the fleet."

"You know what?" he asked. "I think you're right, niece."

---

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Author's Note:
This chapter kicked me in the nuts, but I hope I showed how useful it is to have the Green Men aiding in battle. Also, this chapter will be the last one in the Riverlands for a while, as I don't want to clutter my fic with only this kingdom. The next chapter will be Kingslanding Interlude.

---

Edmure Tullys.


Mummers Ford.


It had been more than three weeks since we had left Riverrun, and we finally reached the castle. Thanks to the green men, we had been able to approach secretly, and I could not thank them enough for that.


Lord Sylvyrn had been of so much help; he and his people, with their warg abilities, were the best damn scouts I could imagine. Being able to control and see through the wildlife was a life changer. Still, even that was nothing compared to being able to control nature. Even after seeing them change the terrain many times, I still could not believe my eyes.


But even with all of these advantages, I was nervous about attacking Jaime's host. He was a renowned soldier, one of the best the Seven Kingdoms had to offer. While he was untested—since all of the battles he had fought, he had just won by overwhelming our numbers or just by the threat of his father and his rabid dogs—so was I. Besides the defense of Riverrun, I had not participated in any battle of this size, let alone importance.


Either way, I could not deny the feeling it gave me. I was nervous, afraid, but most of all, excited. The Lannisters had burned the Riverlands for nothing more than an insult to their name, and if what my good brother had found was true—which I had all the reasons to believe—they did it for naught. If Joffrey Baratheon was a bastard and worst of all, the result of a union between the Kingslayer and the queen, the realm would not have accepted him as a ruler.


This war was bound to happen either now or in ten years, and while the Lannisters got to the Riverlands unimpeded, it was time to root them out of my lands. According to the ravens, the few green men that stayed in Riverrun said my father's health had been improving drastically the last couple of days, and while it was true that he wasn't long for this world because of his age, at least he had some more years to live.


This conflict taught me the importance of vigilance and being ready for anything, and it showed me that I was not ready to lead the Riverlands. For that reason alone, if I managed to keep my life after this battle, I vowed to study under my father to become the best lord that I could be. The Riverlands deserved the best, and with Robb's help, I was sure we could rise to new heights.


Standing up from my mattress inside the main tent some miles away from the Lannister host, I prepared myself to do what I must. The news of Robb's victory against Tywin was already moving through the lands, and the morale of my soldiers soared fast after hearing that. While he was only the King of the North at this moment, I was sure that was going to change in the near future. The lords of the Riverlands did not want Joffrey as a king, nor anyone whose name wasn't Stark.


I had already heard about some of the lords whispering amongst themselves that they would bend the knee when we reunited with him. He had earned their respect, and with that victory, he showed that he was someone worth following.


Smiling at that thought, I prepared myself, calling for my squire to help me don my armor. Lance had been a foot soldier during the siege of Riverrun, having gone against the wishes of his family just to help his liege lords during the lowest point of our family. He was born of some merchant and a servant, and he left behind his—while not rich—at least tranquil life to help our family. He showed strength and honor while doing so; because of that, I decided that he would become my squire. He deserved it, and I would make sure to teach him everything I could before my passing.


"You called for me, my lord?" Lance asked; only his head could be seen through the curtains.


"Yes, Lance. I need help donning my armor," I replied, finishing changing my tunic.


"At once, my lord," he said while going back to the armory.


While I waited for him, I thought back to the strategy we would use during this battle. While Mummers Ford was a strategic location, the keep by itself wasn't big enough for his host. For that reason, they took it and set camp outside. Our main focus would be to bait them to attack us, where the green men would work their magic to defeat the cavalry, leaving only the infantry intact. My host was already greatly outnumbering Jaime's, and we had the surprise on our side.


Ever since Lord Sylvyrn and his companions connected themselves to the weirwood of Pinkmaiden, he had been able to call fog to hide our traces. The land of Mummers Ford and its surroundings was wet and soft thanks to the rain they had called, so we had at least that advantage.


Before I could continue, Lance came back carrying my armor and stepped inside my tent.


"My lord, let me help you," he said and started doing so.


"Are you ready for today, lad?" I asked.


Lance nodded with a dumb smile on his face and a frown, slapping the back of his head softly while I chided him. "War is no game, lad. I want you to be alert all the time. I didn't make you my squire for you to die in the first open battle."


"My apologies, my lord," Lance said while lowering his head and finishing helping me. The weight of my armor gave me a weird feeling of courage that wasn't there before, and I nodded to myself.


"It's time to face the Lannisters, lad. Go get ready and meet me in the war tent," I said authoritatively, forcing my doubts to the back of my mind. There was no time to hesitate right now; I just needed to make the Lannisters pay for their sins and grab as many hostages as I could while keeping my men alive, something easier said than done but I would give it my best.


Nodding at the soldiers preparing their utilities one last time before the battle, I tried to gauge their morale and spirits, and I was happy with what I saw. Everyone I could see was trembling with emotion; some were scared, of course, but even they were anxious to shed some golden cunt blood. After everything they had done to our lands, I could understand it, and to be honest, I was feeling the same.


Arriving at the tent, I nodded at the guards located at the entrance before joining the rest of the lords. Lord Vance, Lord Mallister, and Lord Blackwood were already inside, talking in hushed voices.


"My lords," I greeted them, "Everything is ready for today's battle?"


The lords nodded with bloodthirsty smiles on their faces, and I could feel a tug on my lips at that. We were ready; no amount of planning would improve what we had already done, so we just needed to wait.


"Edmure, what about our friends from the Isle of Faces?" asked Jason with a frown. "I expected them to be here already."


Sighing, I replied, "Lord Sylvyrn and Lady Elyndra stayed in Pinkmaiden along with the most powerful warg, since they are at their strongest there. The rest will follow my orders, at least during this battle."


Jason Mallister nodded in agreement. "Even if what they can do scares me and I know it will be difficult to normalize it with the smallfolk, I can't deny that having them on our side lifts my spirit."


Lord Vance shook his head with a smirk. "I can't wait to see the smirk on Jaime's face disappear when he sees what they are capable of."


"The cunt deserves it," Tytos Blackwood grunted, "but I'm afraid that after this we will have extra problems."


I frowned at hearing that. "What do you mean, Ser Tytos?"


"What do you think the vipers of King's Landing will do after their help gets annihilated?" he scoffed. "My family has a history with the royal family, and I'm sure they will twist the truth to their gain. Mark my words, lad. The Faith will be against King Robb after the Lannister defeat."


Lord Mallister nodded with a grim face. "Aye, that's true. But there is one thing you are forgetting, Tytos."


Ser Blackwood lifted his eyebrow. "Oh? What can the Young Wolf do against the smallfolk without looking like a tyrant?"


Jason snorted. "He does not need to do anything. You need to remember that while his gifts can bring death to the lands, he can also help the people with them. I know the lad, and he is as honorable as his father, with the ruthlessness of the Starks of old. I'm sure he can manage to deal with it before the first crops start feeding the smallfolk."


Ser Tytos nodded. "I still haven't seen his magical fertilizer at work, but if he manages to do the same in the Riverlands as he did in the North, I'm sure he can gain the trust of the smallfolk. As for the lords, only the most zealous of them might be a problem."


Lord Vance continued with his usual blunt tone. "Aye, but for the rest of us, I'm sure he already won the respect he needed for us to bend the knee. I'm already considering it."


"Robb is no fool; I'm sure he will surpass this kind of political move. As much as the Lannisters think they can control the narrative, actions speak louder than words," I concluded, and the conversation about that came to a halt.


Taking a spyglass, I observed the Lannister host some miles away from where we were preparing. The site was foggy, but I could see the silhouettes of their army.


"They do not know where we are," I smiled. "It's time we show them why attacking us was a bad idea."


Banging their heads on the table, the rest of the lords stood up and began calling for their men.


Jaime Lannister


Lannister Camp, Mummers Ford.


I was feeling a foreboding sense in my whole being—nothing that I could explain. We heard the news about Father's host, but that was something hard to believe. It was impossible that a green boy like Robb Stark could defeat my father in battle, and the less said about the most outrageous tales, the better.


Tales about how Robb Stark set the field ablaze with wildfire, how he killed so many people in the battle called the "Massacre of Riverrun," how the sky dimmed in his presence. It was a high tale and not something I believed in. It was impossible; magic was gone from the world after the death of the last dragon. Everyone accepted that, and while in the North such things were more common, here in the South it was almost impossible to accept.


I remember seeing Robb Stark during the royal visit to Winterfell, and while I didn't interact with him much aside from some japes, he left a deep impression on me. But none of what I saw hinted at what the smallfolk were saying about him now.


Even back then, he had been a promising fighter. With three and ten name days, he was capable of injuring a Kingsguard—one that, while not giving his all at that moment, was an achievement of its own.


To be honest, I regretted starting this war. The secret between Cersei and me was found by the previous hands, and the honorable fool Ned Stark wasn't capable of seeing the problems making it public would cause. And here we were, burning through the Riverlands at my father's orders to sow fear into our enemies.


He thought that he could repeat the Rain of Castamere so that the rest of the realm would leave King's Landing alone, and while he could probably do so, it was too late now. With both Baratheon fighting for the throne, the North doing the same, and the Riverlands following Robb Stark, our actions didn't surprise me. After taking control of the Small Council for so many years after Cersei's wedding, we weren't liked by the rest of the kingdoms.


I understood what Father said about the lion not caring for the opinions of the sheep, but I knew he was wrong. We did not have dragons like the Targaryens, and being cruel and sadistic only stopped cowards from rebelling. But if it was true that the Young Wolf had Father as a hostage, it would all crumble under them.


The main defense our house had was that we were infallible and unbeatable, but if that failed, other people would get ideas. While the Westerlands were tight, and most houses would follow us, I was sure we would see a decline in support after the news reached there. And with Stannis, Renly, and that Targaryen already preparing to march, the Westerlands would become afraid.


It was different in the rebellion, where Father stayed neutral until the end of the war. At that time, besides myself, the rest of my family had the option of saving their strength until the last moment. But now? Now we were the first to march; the levies were tired, and we had been on the move for over a month. While our advance to the Riverlands had stopped, I knew that our men hadn't rested enough.


"I don't like this, not one bit," said Lord Leo Lefford while shaking his head. He had been morose ever since the news of Father's defeat at the hands of the Starks since the most probable move after that would have been to attack the Golden Tooth, where his wife was alone with only some defenses mounted. And while the castle was said to be impenetrable, Robb Stark had already defeated two houses famous for the same thing.


While the Freys were a disgrace, the Twins were not. In his place, I would have absolutely no idea how to enter the castle if the Freys were against me without wasting so much time on a siege trying to starve them. And the less said about the Boltons, the better. I remember seeing Roose Bolton during the Greyjoy Rebellion, and he gave me the creeps.


From what I knew about their history, which admittedly was not much, the Dreadfort was another impenetrable fortress with cruel and sadistic people inside. Robb Stark had been capable of spiriting away the lord and his only remaining heir without the guards noticing.


"We already sent a raven to the Golden Tooth, my lord," Ser Falwell nodded at him, understanding his preoccupation with the situation. "There is not much more we can do from where we are; we just need to pray to the Seven for their safety."


Lord Lefford sighed but nodded at him. "Aye, we can just hope to continue with this madness." After that, he took a seat in the main tent, and I couldn't help but frown upon hearing this. I knew people from the Westerlands mainly followed the Lannisters because of the fear Father had instilled in them with all his actions, and while most of them didn't believe that this was the best course of action, they would continue supporting us. But Father's defeat had happened at the worst possible moment. Everyone had heard about the Hour of the Wolf and knew what the Starks did with their enemies. If Eddard Stark was the one leading the army, I would not be that afraid because he wouldn't harm the hostages more than needed; his son was different.


He was mostly an unknown, and that scared our followers. And the damn environment did not help at all.


"Fuck this shit," snorted a Braavosi sellsword Father had bought. "This shit is unnatural—the rain, the fog? Something evil is going on."


I nodded at that; I also didn't like it one bit. It's been days since it started raining, and it was almost impossible to see far away. The soil was soft thanks to the rain, and it would be difficult to defend ourselves if we wanted to.


Looking for something to do, I started examining the map of the Riverlands. We hadn't been able to advance more, and since the news, we had stopped moving at all. The fort was only being used to safeguard the important equipment and foodstuffs; most of the levies were camping outside.


"What the fuck is happening?" exclaimed Tygett Lannister with urgency. He had been getting antsy for a while, and my boneheaded uncle was itching for a fight.


I stood up and tried to see anything of note, and I gasped in surprise, seeing the fog receding.


"Fuck… I knew this fog was not natural… Magic is real," murmured Lord Lefford.


Across the field, we could see countless men of the Riverlands marching toward us, and we weren't prepared for that.


"Blow the horns!" I shouted, running back to my tent to get my armor and weapon. "Prepare our men!"


Before long, most of the Lannister forces were arranged in their classic blocks, the infantry in front with the cavalry at their sides, hoping to find opportunities for pincer attacks.


In the middle of the levies stood the sellswords—the people we would miss the least if something went wrong. Loyal only to the highest bidder, and in Westeros that meant the Lannisters.


"Look at their feet," Lord Lefford said haltingly. "I am completely sure the soil over there was as moist as this one," kicking his feet in demonstration, the squelching of his soles against the mud obvious.


"Vile sorcery," spat the general of the sellswords. "We hold the high ground; we better stay put over here."


Ser Tygett snorted disdainfully. "Edmure Tully is a weak lord. I'll take the cavalry to him and defeat him."


I frowned; I didn't want him to do that, but I knew better than to voice my opinion. When he gets in this mood, he would hear none of it. "Are you sure, uncle?" I asked one last time.


"If you are afraid of parlor tricks, be my guest. I will not stay put when they have my brother hostage," he scowled.


Edmure Tully.


We were finally here, and it was time to show my worth. Our bannermen were gathered in the middle, with the Northerners at attention on the sides, waiting for their opportunity. I would need to ask Robb how he had taught them; they marched as one and fought the same. They looked like the famous blocks of YiTi.


Now it was our true chance to avenge the burning of the Riverlands and finish the Westerlands off their strength. I could feel my men were in the highest spirits possible. "Ser Vance," I called out, and my friend rapidly approached the front of the line where I was located.


"What do you think? I'm sure some of them will get the idea to attack first. Do we wait for them or attack first?" I asked. One of the most important lessons from my father was to seek counsel from my trusted men. I wanted to attack first, but I would not put this battle in jeopardy because of my wishes.


"We better advance slowly and hope the plan Lord Sylvyrn proposed works. If they are capable of doing as promised, we would gain the advantage," he murmured, with Lord Mallister nodding in agreement.


"Aye, I agree with that," he said lightly before snorting. "Not only because I want to see them at work."


"Prepare the archers!" I shouted before addressing my commanders. "We will do as you say; advance at leisure. Save our strength for when it is needed the most."


With my shout, everyone prepared—the archers nocking the arrows to their bows, and the infantry in front of all of us clanking their spears against their long shields. Shouts could be heard from every direction of our army.


My commanders left my side, going to their respective platoons to direct.


Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself, thinking of my family, my people, and the future. This was it… This was my moment. Images of my lord father smiling in my youth, saying to me that he was proud of how I had grown, Catelyn's smiles when we used to play in the gardens, even of Lysa… the thought of her brought a pang to my heart. If she had done the things Robb accused her of, she would pay for her crimes, but that didn't mean that I didn't love her.


Letting my breath out, I opened my eyes, focusing on the battle like I had never done before in my life. "Start moving! It's time we get our due!"


With my shout, everyone began to move slowly, and I smiled seeing the dirt under us hardening before we could advance at a slow pace. Truly, the green men were wonderful aids.


"Let loose!" I shouted, and with it, the archers and the levies started marching, hoping to put an end to the Lannisters.


The arrows flew loose, and the Lannisters didn't bother guarding since we were so far away—way more than recommended. But we had tricks up our sleeves. With a whoosh of wind, the arrows traveled faster and farther than they should.


I smirked, seeing the Lannister men dropping like flies, over a hundred dead with the first volley.


Nodding at Lord Mallister, who was in charge of the archers, he returned my smirk. Truly, magic was something else.


The green men in our backline were using their "meager" control of the winds, and inwardly I scoffed. If they called this meager, I didn't want to imagine what the Children of the Forest in their heyday could do.


Thinking of the Arm of Dorne made me shudder.


Little by little, our infantry advanced, and after seeing the bloodbath our first volley caused, I could see through my far eye that Tygett Lannister started moving, shouting something I couldn't hear as I hid my smirk.


The more angry they got, the better for our plans, after all.


With a last shout, the Lannister cavalry started moving—over five thousand horses galloping at their fastest speed.


"Hold!" I shouted, and the infantry pumped their shields to the ground, using a small hole at their side to push their spears through it as they continued advancing at a slow pace.


With excitement surging in my heart, I prayed that Lord Sylvyrn's plan worked as they told.


I could see the infantry shaking a bit in fright before more shouts raised their spirits, and it was understandable after all, being the first line of defense against so many horses. But seeing them struggling to pick up their speed thanks to the terrain helped.


"Any moment now," I murmured, and my anticipation soared through the air, watching them approaching us mile by mile until they were a hundred feet away from us.


The closer they got, the more our people prayed, me included. But after a moment, I could feel a small tremor under our feet.


"Holy fuck," said a soldier next to me.


"Seven save us," murmured another, and they were not the only ones.


In front of our frontline, I could see holes opening, with sharpened roots starting to sprout, making a trap against the Lannister cavalry. And they were going too fast to stop in time.


After a few seconds, the first victim fell, a poor horse that was impaled by the wall, and with more and more roots coming through the soil more and more began to die, their soldiers being squashed under the full weight of their horses.


It was the perfect time to attack.


"Kill the Lannister scum!" I shouted, advancing with the complete force of the host.


I lifted my sword impaling the first soldier I came across with my men following my lead. Lannister and Bravossi blood began to flow through the lands, quenching its thirst for vengeance.


"Fuck them, boys!" shouted lord Vance, in charge of the cavalry.


The archers dropped their bows to the ground, snarling and grabbing their swords, running toward the lannister like men possessed by the warrior.


With the wind in our favor, we didn't need to worry about their archers, and with full confidence in our victory, we ran to do what most of us dreamed of. Painting our lands with Westerlands blood.


And blood flowed. Many Lannisters died at our feet as we advanced. The back of their cavalry managed to stop before coming against the spikes, but we were onto them.


Rushing against Tygett with some soldiers at my back we started slashing and hacking through them, lifting my sword and slashing the sword hand of one of his guards before I came in front of him.


"Vengeance sure is sweet, is it not, Lannister?" I asked conversationally.


"Fucking foul sorcery" he spat to the floor before dropping to the ground after a soldier killed it.


"Get up Lannister! Die on your feet at the very least!" I shouted at him as he scrambled to the floor trying to reach his sword.


"You have no honor, Tully!" he scowled, "Groveling in front of sorcerers?"


With complete savagery a rushed toward him delivering a kick to his chest, that coupled with my momentum dropped him back to the ground.


"Get up, Lannister!" I shouted again, much to the amusement of my companions.


Several knights tried to reach us to protect him but it was too late, taking a spear from my saddle I impaled him through the chest, blood flowing freely from his wound.


"Kill them all!" I ordered, and the rest followed.


Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves I observed the battlefield. The Lannister infantry was approaching us, but with our numerical advantage, they wouldn't be able to change the tide of this battle.


"Signal the northerners!" shouted Lord Mallister, and war horns could be heard across the battlefield.


The northerners advanced as a unit, and disaster befell the lannisters. The northern part of the host was drenched from head to toe with the blood of our enemies, and they were unflappable toward their goal.


Finally, the infantries collided, and shouts could be heard from everywhere, as I winced from one particular gruesome shout of pain.


Caving the head of another night, my sword was crimson and dripping, but I didn't let that stop me. I watched with grim satisfaction as the Lannister broke they began to stampede their own men to run away from us, something that couldn't be allowed.


"Rush after them!" could be heard from our forces, and with renewed vigor everyone followed.


Edmure Tully.


Two hours later.


"What are our losses, lord Mallister?" I asked while sitting on the ground. Rounding up all the stragglers we could reach took so much time, and the same could be said for the ones who surrendered.


"We lost a little bit over three thousand, my lord" he replied with a wince that I returned.


I had fucked up… with the excitement and bloodlust of the battle I did not think much when following the Lannisters that ran away, and we did not find out the traps in time. Obviously when we reached those traps and our first men died I called for them to come back, but that didn't mean it was the best decision. The Lannister host in the Riverlands had broken, but I had wanted more and some men fell for that.


Nonetheless, most of the Riverlanders had been in agreement, so not the whole fault laid with me but I felt conscious about it.


"How many died on the traps and pursuit?" I asked scowling.


"One hundred, Edmure" he replied lowering his head.


"Fuck" I murmured.


"No one faults you, my boy. We all got over excited" he said softly with a hand on my shoulder.


I nodded at him, trying to take my mind away from those thoughts.


"What about the hostages? Did we find the kingslayer?" I asked hiding my inner thoughts, showing only a sneer at the coward.


"Nay" he spat to the ground, "The cowardly cunt ran away with three thousand men. It's not worth it to continue searching for him."


I punched the floor with a snarl. The most important person in the host had managed to escape, and he was probably running to Kingslanding.


Sighing I stood up with the help of Jason, "Regroup, and let's take back the fort. Offer leniency if they come out without making problems, and make sure to send a raven to Riverrun. I'm sure Father and Robb will be ecstatic with the news."


Jason nodded and ran to see it done. Ser tytos seeing that I was alone approached me.


"Good job today, lad. You have gained the respect of your people" he guffawed with a big smile on his face, "You managed to regain our honor, and no one will forget that in the years to come."


"Even with my mistakes?" I asked morosely.


"Aye" he nodded, "You are only human, after all. You fought, you bled and you won for the riverlands. Be proud of what you have done, lad."


Smiling at him I punched his arm, "What about you, old man? Managed to gain some glory?"


He smiled wildly at that, showing a large gush in his arm. "I'm sure his grace will give me a medal or something"


"oh?" I lifted my eyebrow, "What did you do you old fox?"


"Follow me" he smirked, and I did.


Walking with him through the camp we had set, I looked around to see if there was a need to do something, but I found everything was being taken care of by different people. The green men were working on the wounded, and the soldiers that saw the least action were herding the hostages like cattle. We would need to do something about them fast since we had over six thousand hostages, and that was dangerous, but I was sure Robb already had plans for that.


After following old Tytos lead, we arrived at where we kept the hostages. The old lord almost with a skip on his steps showing his emotion.


"Look at that sorry sod" he smiled, pointing at a cage in the middle of the rest, being protected by five guards alone.


"Ser armory lorch" I gasped, patting the old lord next to me in the back at the job well done. "You, my lord, will gain so much from Robb for this gift. I'm sure of it."

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