Sceonn
Know what you're doing yet?
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Is this something they say in Westeros? IIRC it's either Lord, Ser or Master for men and mostly Lady for women.
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A Game of Thrones: A Stark Shard.
- Thread starter InfinityReads999
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InfinityReads999
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There will be real enemies for him in Westeros... Patience lol, there has to be some difficulties along the way. But trust the process.
InfinityReads999
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Eh... No idea, but i mean, he is the Heir, i could use Lord but its the same thing in the end
Chapter 55: Riverrun
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Author's Note: Hey guys, tomorrow (hopefully I'll remember lol) I'll post the next chapter, which will be the last short one. After that, all of them will be around 5k words.
Seagard
Robb Stark
"Lord Mallister, it's a pleasure to meet you again," I smiled at the frowning lord, who was eyeing his heir with a critical expression. Seeing that Patrek was in one piece, the lord nodded in satisfaction before turning his gaze to me. "King Stark," he greeted, "It appears a lot has changed since we last met."
I chuckled softly before giving him a firm handshake. "Aye, my people decided before I could give any input. But do not worry, our agreement will remain the same."
"Do you have any news about my mother's family, Lord Mallister?" I asked him, as more than a week had passed since the execution of the late Lord Frey. Lord Glover had chosen Robin Flint, the son of the Lady of Widow's Watch, to be the lord of the Twins during this war.
If I remember correctly, he was one of Robb's personal guards in the original timeline, but since I'm now an enhanced version of my canon counterpart, I didn't need as much protection.
For now, my body had the strength, speed, and reaction time of a man in his prime. I was probably one of the best fighters the North had to offer, and I was by far the best at long-range combat thanks to my powers.
"Not much, King Robb," he shook his head. "The last I heard was about some skirmishes along the Red Fork between the Riverlands and the Lannisters. I can honestly say that the Blackfish is one of the best generals Westeros has ever seen," he said with admiration.
"Indeed, my great uncle deserves praise for this," I nodded. "And now he will have our support. How many soldiers can you spare?"
He thought for a moment. "My full force is small compared to what you command," he sighed. "I can spare three thousand soldiers. I will keep one thousand here at Seagard to protect my lands."
"Will you follow us, or will you stay here?" I asked, curious about his decision.
"I think Patrek can manage Seagard in my absence. I will follow you, King Robb," he said with a smile. "From what I can observe, most of your generals are young. I don't mean to belittle anyone, but I'm sure my experience could help in one way or another."
"Yes, I ordered the lords of the North to protect the kingdom in my stead, the same for my father," I replied with a smile. "I'm afraid things are not so simple." I continued, explaining the details about the White Walkers and calling for the Wight we had been using as proof.
"This is troubling news…" he murmured as he paced through the courtyard. "I'm afraid I cannot spare more soldiers for this venture, but I assure you, after we finish the war for the Iron Throne, House Mallister will support the North against this blight," he vowed seriously, and I nodded in acceptance.
We still had time, after all. Rushing things would only make it harder in the future.
"Then we will rest for a day before marching to Riverrun. I fear we have already wasted too much time," I nodded grimly. "As promised, we will leave four thousand men here to fulfill the pact, and you will have the support of Heir Robin Flint, who is overseeing the Twins if Patrek needs any more help."
"As a matter of fact, if you permit us to use your lands, we could plant the crops discovered in the North to prepare for the future. I fear we will need them. Heir Robin will also use the lands of the Twins for this," I continued, offering something I knew he couldn't refuse, lest his people rise against him.
"What can I do to repay this kindness, King Robb?" he asked seriously, and I smiled benevolently.
"Nothing, my lord. It's the least I could do. We need to be strong and united for the threat to come."
Jason Mallister nodded gratefully. "I will never forget this. You have made a friend for generations, King Robb."
Two weeks later
Robb Stark
Seeing Riverrun at the edge of my range, I nodded in satisfaction. The army had great morale since we didn't face many battles, and the travels had been swift. My army now consisted of thirty thousand soldiers, as many lords with territories between Seagard and Riverrun had joined us.
Some of them bent the knee to me, though they were the exception. I knew most of them wanted to see me in action before making such a big decision, as it would affect their relationship with us. Oaths were not something to break lightly.
One thing that made me smile was a single addition to our group.
While passing Stone Hedge, my group found a small sellsword company, and color me surprised—their leader was Bronn.
Since my mother hadn't kidnapped Tyrion, Bronn must have formed this small group to make some coin during these hard times. I couldn't trust him completely, as his main motivation was gold, but I was sure that in time I could make him work for me of his own volition. If I knew one thing, it was that Bronn always followed whoever seemed to be winning.
Either way, I had time to win over Bronn and the other lords' allegiance. For now, the most pressing matter was that the Lannisters had pushed my great uncle's army back to Riverrun. They had fallen back because they were taking too many losses against Tywin and Jaime's army.
Currently, they were being besieged at Riverrun by Tywin, but the problem was that Jaime had taken half of their forces to fight the other houses, killing and burning multiple keeps.
For now, we would help the Blackfish against Tywin. When his army fled to regroup with Jaime's, we would take them both. My main focus was to take them hostage. Jaime, for all his faults, was a damn good fighter—one of the best in Westeros—and we could use his help. As for Tywin, I still wasn't sure what to do with him. He was a threat, but I couldn't deny that he knew how to run things. Maybe we could reach an agreement, though I wouldn't bet on it.
For now, it was pointless to dwell on that. We needed to focus on defeating an army larger than ours. During our travels, my army continued to train. I wanted them to fight as a unit, rather than the chaos most armies in Game of Thrones used.
They weren't at the level of the Unsullied yet, but they were getting there. With my insects, we could make shields out of chitin, which made things easier. Most of the soldiers used blunt weapons or spears, with only a fifth of the army wielding swords.
I never understood why in Game of Thrones, blunt weapons weren't more common. They were probably the best weapons against armored enemies. Robert Baratheon was the biggest example of this. I couldn't deny that in his prime, he was a beast, but he also had the advantage of downing most of his opponents with a single well-placed hit. The series lied to me—using a sword against someone in full plate armor was almost impossible. Slashing was ineffective, and finding a weak point to stab was incredibly difficult.
Shaking my head, I focused on the battalion approaching us from Riverrun. The Lannisters undoubtedly knew about our arrival; it was impossible to hide the sheer number of soldiers I had behind me.
I wasn't worried, though. Since the war started, I'd been using my insects freely, and I knew I could overrun any army unprepared for the millions of bugs under my control.
To be honest, the fight for the throne wouldn't be the hardest part of my journey—at least not if no new variables appeared. I still wasn't sure if there was a Faegon with the Golden Company vying for the throne, as I had no information from that side of the world.
And since the Old Gods got involved, I was certain the more mystical aspects of the books were present here. I needed to keep my guard up against Melisandre and, worse yet, Euron Greyjoy. In the series, they weren't much of a threat, but the book Euron scared me. A more competent Melisandre also sounded like a problem.
Seeing who I assumed to be my uncle, Edmure Tully, leading the battalion, I wondered what he would be like. Would he be the disgrace the showrunners of the series made him, or the dumb but honestly good person book Edmure was?
"Nephew!" he shouted with a grim face. He looked stressed and, more importantly, pissed off.
I couldn't fault him—the Riverlands had been the battlefield for most of the fighting since the Conquest, and now it was burning again.
"Uncle Edmure, mother sends her regards," I said neutrally. "The North is here to support you and destroy the Lannisters."
"Thank you for the help. Uncle Brynden speaks highly of you. He made sure everyone knew you were the reason for his presence in the Riverlands," he smiled, and I could see the strain lifting from his body.
"I'm sorry I couldn't inform more people," I replied somewhat guiltily. I couldn't show weakness, but humanity was another matter. "My father was in danger, and I didn't have time to visit earlier."
"Fret not, nephew," he nodded. "Father understands this as well. He has been ill for a while, but I can see his happiness that you came to aid us. I've seen him smile more in these past weeks than in the last few years, even with all these hardships."
"Problems that will cease to exist, I assure you," I replied with a smile. "Why don't we set camp near the castle? That way we can go and pay our respects to Grandfather."
"Aye, follow me," he said as he began giving orders to his men.
If you want to support me or read up to Five chapters ahead, you can find me on patr*e on . co m (slash) Infinityreads99
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Seagard
Robb Stark
"Lord Mallister, it's a pleasure to meet you again," I smiled at the frowning lord, who was eyeing his heir with a critical expression. Seeing that Patrek was in one piece, the lord nodded in satisfaction before turning his gaze to me. "King Stark," he greeted, "It appears a lot has changed since we last met."
I chuckled softly before giving him a firm handshake. "Aye, my people decided before I could give any input. But do not worry, our agreement will remain the same."
"Do you have any news about my mother's family, Lord Mallister?" I asked him, as more than a week had passed since the execution of the late Lord Frey. Lord Glover had chosen Robin Flint, the son of the Lady of Widow's Watch, to be the lord of the Twins during this war.
If I remember correctly, he was one of Robb's personal guards in the original timeline, but since I'm now an enhanced version of my canon counterpart, I didn't need as much protection.
For now, my body had the strength, speed, and reaction time of a man in his prime. I was probably one of the best fighters the North had to offer, and I was by far the best at long-range combat thanks to my powers.
"Not much, King Robb," he shook his head. "The last I heard was about some skirmishes along the Red Fork between the Riverlands and the Lannisters. I can honestly say that the Blackfish is one of the best generals Westeros has ever seen," he said with admiration.
"Indeed, my great uncle deserves praise for this," I nodded. "And now he will have our support. How many soldiers can you spare?"
He thought for a moment. "My full force is small compared to what you command," he sighed. "I can spare three thousand soldiers. I will keep one thousand here at Seagard to protect my lands."
"Will you follow us, or will you stay here?" I asked, curious about his decision.
"I think Patrek can manage Seagard in my absence. I will follow you, King Robb," he said with a smile. "From what I can observe, most of your generals are young. I don't mean to belittle anyone, but I'm sure my experience could help in one way or another."
"Yes, I ordered the lords of the North to protect the kingdom in my stead, the same for my father," I replied with a smile. "I'm afraid things are not so simple." I continued, explaining the details about the White Walkers and calling for the Wight we had been using as proof.
"This is troubling news…" he murmured as he paced through the courtyard. "I'm afraid I cannot spare more soldiers for this venture, but I assure you, after we finish the war for the Iron Throne, House Mallister will support the North against this blight," he vowed seriously, and I nodded in acceptance.
We still had time, after all. Rushing things would only make it harder in the future.
"Then we will rest for a day before marching to Riverrun. I fear we have already wasted too much time," I nodded grimly. "As promised, we will leave four thousand men here to fulfill the pact, and you will have the support of Heir Robin Flint, who is overseeing the Twins if Patrek needs any more help."
"As a matter of fact, if you permit us to use your lands, we could plant the crops discovered in the North to prepare for the future. I fear we will need them. Heir Robin will also use the lands of the Twins for this," I continued, offering something I knew he couldn't refuse, lest his people rise against him.
"What can I do to repay this kindness, King Robb?" he asked seriously, and I smiled benevolently.
"Nothing, my lord. It's the least I could do. We need to be strong and united for the threat to come."
Jason Mallister nodded gratefully. "I will never forget this. You have made a friend for generations, King Robb."
Two weeks later
Robb Stark
Seeing Riverrun at the edge of my range, I nodded in satisfaction. The army had great morale since we didn't face many battles, and the travels had been swift. My army now consisted of thirty thousand soldiers, as many lords with territories between Seagard and Riverrun had joined us.
Some of them bent the knee to me, though they were the exception. I knew most of them wanted to see me in action before making such a big decision, as it would affect their relationship with us. Oaths were not something to break lightly.
One thing that made me smile was a single addition to our group.
While passing Stone Hedge, my group found a small sellsword company, and color me surprised—their leader was Bronn.
Since my mother hadn't kidnapped Tyrion, Bronn must have formed this small group to make some coin during these hard times. I couldn't trust him completely, as his main motivation was gold, but I was sure that in time I could make him work for me of his own volition. If I knew one thing, it was that Bronn always followed whoever seemed to be winning.
Either way, I had time to win over Bronn and the other lords' allegiance. For now, the most pressing matter was that the Lannisters had pushed my great uncle's army back to Riverrun. They had fallen back because they were taking too many losses against Tywin and Jaime's army.
Currently, they were being besieged at Riverrun by Tywin, but the problem was that Jaime had taken half of their forces to fight the other houses, killing and burning multiple keeps.
For now, we would help the Blackfish against Tywin. When his army fled to regroup with Jaime's, we would take them both. My main focus was to take them hostage. Jaime, for all his faults, was a damn good fighter—one of the best in Westeros—and we could use his help. As for Tywin, I still wasn't sure what to do with him. He was a threat, but I couldn't deny that he knew how to run things. Maybe we could reach an agreement, though I wouldn't bet on it.
For now, it was pointless to dwell on that. We needed to focus on defeating an army larger than ours. During our travels, my army continued to train. I wanted them to fight as a unit, rather than the chaos most armies in Game of Thrones used.
They weren't at the level of the Unsullied yet, but they were getting there. With my insects, we could make shields out of chitin, which made things easier. Most of the soldiers used blunt weapons or spears, with only a fifth of the army wielding swords.
I never understood why in Game of Thrones, blunt weapons weren't more common. They were probably the best weapons against armored enemies. Robert Baratheon was the biggest example of this. I couldn't deny that in his prime, he was a beast, but he also had the advantage of downing most of his opponents with a single well-placed hit. The series lied to me—using a sword against someone in full plate armor was almost impossible. Slashing was ineffective, and finding a weak point to stab was incredibly difficult.
Shaking my head, I focused on the battalion approaching us from Riverrun. The Lannisters undoubtedly knew about our arrival; it was impossible to hide the sheer number of soldiers I had behind me.
I wasn't worried, though. Since the war started, I'd been using my insects freely, and I knew I could overrun any army unprepared for the millions of bugs under my control.
To be honest, the fight for the throne wouldn't be the hardest part of my journey—at least not if no new variables appeared. I still wasn't sure if there was a Faegon with the Golden Company vying for the throne, as I had no information from that side of the world.
And since the Old Gods got involved, I was certain the more mystical aspects of the books were present here. I needed to keep my guard up against Melisandre and, worse yet, Euron Greyjoy. In the series, they weren't much of a threat, but the book Euron scared me. A more competent Melisandre also sounded like a problem.
Seeing who I assumed to be my uncle, Edmure Tully, leading the battalion, I wondered what he would be like. Would he be the disgrace the showrunners of the series made him, or the dumb but honestly good person book Edmure was?
"Nephew!" he shouted with a grim face. He looked stressed and, more importantly, pissed off.
I couldn't fault him—the Riverlands had been the battlefield for most of the fighting since the Conquest, and now it was burning again.
"Uncle Edmure, mother sends her regards," I said neutrally. "The North is here to support you and destroy the Lannisters."
"Thank you for the help. Uncle Brynden speaks highly of you. He made sure everyone knew you were the reason for his presence in the Riverlands," he smiled, and I could see the strain lifting from his body.
"I'm sorry I couldn't inform more people," I replied somewhat guiltily. I couldn't show weakness, but humanity was another matter. "My father was in danger, and I didn't have time to visit earlier."
"Fret not, nephew," he nodded. "Father understands this as well. He has been ill for a while, but I can see his happiness that you came to aid us. I've seen him smile more in these past weeks than in the last few years, even with all these hardships."
"Problems that will cease to exist, I assure you," I replied with a smile. "Why don't we set camp near the castle? That way we can go and pay our respects to Grandfather."
"Aye, follow me," he said as he began giving orders to his men.
If you want to support me or read up to Five chapters ahead, you can find me on patr*e on . co m (slash) Infinityreads99
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FallingUp
Making the rounds.
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Is it so hard to use "well" or "alright"
Chapter 56: Hoster Tully and settling in.
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InfinityReads999
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Author's note (Patreon): Seeing how the poll is going, this will probably be the last short chapter. I truly hope you guys enjoy it and continue to do so in the future! The next chapter will be the war council, and probably the first Dany interlude. With more words per chapter, it will be easier to include the necessary POVs to give the story more depth.
Author's note 2: This is the last short chapter! sorry for the wait but yeah, i will post the first 5k chapter just after this one!
Riverrun
Robb Stark
It was hard to believe how the lively lands of Riverrun were damaged to this level. Walking behind my uncle, I observed how the Riverlanders were milling around the castle, moving the wounded and weapons.
I could see crying women over some bodies the healers were unable to save, and children running around looking scared. Stopping for a moment, which made everyone behind me stop as well, I continued to look around.
"Sylvyrn, take all our healers to help," I ordered the leader of the Greenmen.
"At once, my king," he replied. "We'll need help to move the supplies."
"Smalljon, Dacey," I continued, "make sure the healers have anything they need. Take a hundred guards with you for support."
"Aye," "Aye," they replied. "Go on ahead, we'll make sure to help."
I nodded and started walking behind Edmure, who gave me a grateful smile. "I thank you for this, nephew."
"Don't worry, uncle. We're here to help with anything," I replied.
As we resumed walking, I used my swarm to check the terrain and surroundings, looking for places that needed work. The castle was in good shape, thankfully, but I couldn't say the same for the inhabitants.
They were tired, scared, and hungry. At least with some of those things, we could help. We had more than enough provisions to feed everyone here, and with the new land we could use from the Riverlords who followed me, we would have more for the winter.
With all those lands, we could farm enough food for the war against the Lannisters and the White Walkers, so in this case, we were quite set.
"Why are there so many smallfolk here, uncle?" I asked him, noticing that most of the inhabitants were peasants who were helping wherever they could.
"They are our people, nephew. They were afraid and hungry. What lord would I be if I didn't try to help them?" he asked, and I couldn't deny that my respect for him soared.
"I'm sure the Riverlands will be in good hands when you take command, uncle. You made the right choice—without our subjects, we would be nothing."
As he went to reply, he stopped cold in his tracks, seeing the person waiting for us.
"Uncle Brynden, is there any news?" he asked him.
"Tywin's army has been relentless in their push against us, and we need to support the rest of the lords against Jaime's army." He shook his head. "We're in a bad spot, but from what I can see, at least we have new blood for the future."
With that, he approached me and hugged me tightly.
"Thanks for the heads-up, Robb," he said sincerely. "Without that, the Riverlands would be in an even worse situation."
As I returned the hug and patted his back, I replied, "It was the least I could do, Ser Brynden. You have done a wonderful job with this."
"It's time we give Tywin a surprise, but first, I need to know more about their armies," I continued. "What do we know of their numbers, supplies, and all of that?"
"Tywin has almost twenty thousand soldiers laying outside of Riverrun," Brynden replied. "With that being said, Jaime Lannister leads almost fifteen thousand soldiers, located at Mummer's Ford."
"Aye, we're in trouble," supplied Edmure. "We were going to be overrun before long."
"Not anymore, but we need a meeting for a war council—there is much to discuss," I said, wondering what the more experienced generals would decide.
"Go ahead and meet my brother. We'll have a war council after dinner," said Ser Brynden. "His health has been getting worse with all this stress. Maybe meeting you will help him."
With that, he marched toward his army, and I continued with Edmure toward his father.
"Father has been amazed by what we've heard. Not many news has reached us in these tiring times, but is it true?" he asked in a low voice.
"What have you heard, uncle?" I asked. "There has been a lot happening these past weeks."
"Are you blessed by your old gods?" he asked bluntly, a frown on his face.
"Aye, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that they exist, just like the Seven," I replied in a calm voice, remembering my "meeting" with them, something that still weirded me out.
"Amazing…" he murmured. "What are they like?"
"It's not easy to explain, uncle," I replied with a weak chuckle. "They are different from the Seven, from what I know, more in tune with nature. They are inhuman… something more."
"Interesting. What happened at the Twins?" he continued.
"It appears that Lord Walder Frey suffered from a case of a missing head," I laughed. "I and a small group entered the Twins and killed the bad apples. After that, we escaped with Lord Frey and his sons, to make the people inside bend the knee."
"How could you do that, Robb? It's almost unheard of."
"Let's say being a champion of the Old Gods has its boons," I replied. "I'm sure you will see shortly what I'm talking about."
Edmure shook his head in wonder. "We're here. Go ahead. It hurts to see him like this, so I won't accompany you."
"It's understandable," I replied. "We'll see each other at dinner, then."
Walking inside the room, I observed my grandfather looking sickly in bed.
"Grandfather," I said with a smile, "it's good to see you, even if the situation could be better."
"Come, come, son," he said with a choked voice. "You look so much like your mother."
"Aye, I look the most Tully out of all my brothers," I said with a chuckle. "Besides me, only Sansa has red hair."
"Little Sansa?" he asked. "She is the oldest girl, is she not?"
"Aye," I said. "Little Arya is a hellion," I laughed. "Father says she has the spirit of Aunt Lyanna inside of her."
"I would love to meet them," he said ruefully. "But I'm afraid I don't have long in this world."
"They would have loved to meet you, grandfather," I replied, placing my hand on his shoulder. "It's a shame the realm is at war once again."
"Everything is the Lannisters' fault," he spat out with surprising force. "They deserve death for all their sins."
"Death will come," I said. "I'll be the one to bring them to justice."
"Tell me, Robb… What are your plans?" he asked lightly, but I could feel the tension in the room rise.
"I aim for the throne, grandfather," I said truthfully. "There are some things that will make sense in the future, and I need the Seven Kingdoms to be united for the true threat."
"What are you talking about?" he asked, and I ignored the way his eyes shone when he heard I was thinking of claiming the throne for myself.
"The White Walkers are real. We have proof to show the rest of the Riverlands, but I'm afraid we will need to crush the Lannisters and take the throne before that," I replied. "Thankfully, we have time for this since the Wall stands strong, but it will not last. I don't know how much time we have, but I hope we have some years before it becomes pressing."
He stayed silent for a while, his eyes searching mine for any signs of deception, before asking, "Do you really have proof?"
"Aye, we will show it in the war council today."
"Then I will be present. And, Robb? Impress my lords. If you manage that, the Riverlands will bend the knee," he assured me.
I nodded at him. "We have a deal, grandfather," and I exited the room.
The next few days would be the most pivotal part of this war. Saving Riverrun from the Lannisters and starting to push them from these lands were only the first steps. I needed some victories under my name since most of my fights had been lowkey before, not counting the ones against the Freys and Boltons.
But this would be the first time I would fight in an open field with an army. Thankfully, the Riverlands had some experienced lords who could give better ideas than I could with them advising on the best way to proceed.
My idea was to destroy the supply lines and scatter his soldiers using my insects, but I was sure Ser Brynden or Jason Mallister could have more devious ideas, and I wasn't egotistical enough to ignore counsel.
One thing I liked about myself was that when people said there was a better way, I listened. So if any of the generals had better ideas, they were more than welcome to join.
Searching for Jon with my power, I approached where he was located. It appeared he was helping the Greenmen with some supplies.
Since I left them with their orders, they managed to heal a lot of the wounded. Thankfully, even if the patients were weirded out by their appearance and the way they worked, none said no when asked if they could cure the wounds. Being at death's door made people forget their faith.
"How are things going, Jon?" I asked.
"There are way too many wounded, Robb," he replied, shaking his head in sadness. "I'm afraid without Sylvyrn and the rest, most of them would have died. Thankfully, your uncle Edmure came to calm things down. Their appearance scared some of the more devout believers."
"I'll thank him later, then," I nodded. "Go and rest. We have a war council tonight. Search for the heirs; I'll tell Jason."
If you want to support me or read up to 25k words ahead, you can find me on patr*e on . co m (slash) Infinityreads99
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Author's note 2: This is the last short chapter! sorry for the wait but yeah, i will post the first 5k chapter just after this one!
Riverrun
Robb Stark
It was hard to believe how the lively lands of Riverrun were damaged to this level. Walking behind my uncle, I observed how the Riverlanders were milling around the castle, moving the wounded and weapons.
I could see crying women over some bodies the healers were unable to save, and children running around looking scared. Stopping for a moment, which made everyone behind me stop as well, I continued to look around.
"Sylvyrn, take all our healers to help," I ordered the leader of the Greenmen.
"At once, my king," he replied. "We'll need help to move the supplies."
"Smalljon, Dacey," I continued, "make sure the healers have anything they need. Take a hundred guards with you for support."
"Aye," "Aye," they replied. "Go on ahead, we'll make sure to help."
I nodded and started walking behind Edmure, who gave me a grateful smile. "I thank you for this, nephew."
"Don't worry, uncle. We're here to help with anything," I replied.
As we resumed walking, I used my swarm to check the terrain and surroundings, looking for places that needed work. The castle was in good shape, thankfully, but I couldn't say the same for the inhabitants.
They were tired, scared, and hungry. At least with some of those things, we could help. We had more than enough provisions to feed everyone here, and with the new land we could use from the Riverlords who followed me, we would have more for the winter.
With all those lands, we could farm enough food for the war against the Lannisters and the White Walkers, so in this case, we were quite set.
"Why are there so many smallfolk here, uncle?" I asked him, noticing that most of the inhabitants were peasants who were helping wherever they could.
"They are our people, nephew. They were afraid and hungry. What lord would I be if I didn't try to help them?" he asked, and I couldn't deny that my respect for him soared.
"I'm sure the Riverlands will be in good hands when you take command, uncle. You made the right choice—without our subjects, we would be nothing."
As he went to reply, he stopped cold in his tracks, seeing the person waiting for us.
"Uncle Brynden, is there any news?" he asked him.
"Tywin's army has been relentless in their push against us, and we need to support the rest of the lords against Jaime's army." He shook his head. "We're in a bad spot, but from what I can see, at least we have new blood for the future."
With that, he approached me and hugged me tightly.
"Thanks for the heads-up, Robb," he said sincerely. "Without that, the Riverlands would be in an even worse situation."
As I returned the hug and patted his back, I replied, "It was the least I could do, Ser Brynden. You have done a wonderful job with this."
"It's time we give Tywin a surprise, but first, I need to know more about their armies," I continued. "What do we know of their numbers, supplies, and all of that?"
"Tywin has almost twenty thousand soldiers laying outside of Riverrun," Brynden replied. "With that being said, Jaime Lannister leads almost fifteen thousand soldiers, located at Mummer's Ford."
"Aye, we're in trouble," supplied Edmure. "We were going to be overrun before long."
"Not anymore, but we need a meeting for a war council—there is much to discuss," I said, wondering what the more experienced generals would decide.
"Go ahead and meet my brother. We'll have a war council after dinner," said Ser Brynden. "His health has been getting worse with all this stress. Maybe meeting you will help him."
With that, he marched toward his army, and I continued with Edmure toward his father.
"Father has been amazed by what we've heard. Not many news has reached us in these tiring times, but is it true?" he asked in a low voice.
"What have you heard, uncle?" I asked. "There has been a lot happening these past weeks."
"Are you blessed by your old gods?" he asked bluntly, a frown on his face.
"Aye, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that they exist, just like the Seven," I replied in a calm voice, remembering my "meeting" with them, something that still weirded me out.
"Amazing…" he murmured. "What are they like?"
"It's not easy to explain, uncle," I replied with a weak chuckle. "They are different from the Seven, from what I know, more in tune with nature. They are inhuman… something more."
"Interesting. What happened at the Twins?" he continued.
"It appears that Lord Walder Frey suffered from a case of a missing head," I laughed. "I and a small group entered the Twins and killed the bad apples. After that, we escaped with Lord Frey and his sons, to make the people inside bend the knee."
"How could you do that, Robb? It's almost unheard of."
"Let's say being a champion of the Old Gods has its boons," I replied. "I'm sure you will see shortly what I'm talking about."
Edmure shook his head in wonder. "We're here. Go ahead. It hurts to see him like this, so I won't accompany you."
"It's understandable," I replied. "We'll see each other at dinner, then."
Walking inside the room, I observed my grandfather looking sickly in bed.
"Grandfather," I said with a smile, "it's good to see you, even if the situation could be better."
"Come, come, son," he said with a choked voice. "You look so much like your mother."
"Aye, I look the most Tully out of all my brothers," I said with a chuckle. "Besides me, only Sansa has red hair."
"Little Sansa?" he asked. "She is the oldest girl, is she not?"
"Aye," I said. "Little Arya is a hellion," I laughed. "Father says she has the spirit of Aunt Lyanna inside of her."
"I would love to meet them," he said ruefully. "But I'm afraid I don't have long in this world."
"They would have loved to meet you, grandfather," I replied, placing my hand on his shoulder. "It's a shame the realm is at war once again."
"Everything is the Lannisters' fault," he spat out with surprising force. "They deserve death for all their sins."
"Death will come," I said. "I'll be the one to bring them to justice."
"Tell me, Robb… What are your plans?" he asked lightly, but I could feel the tension in the room rise.
"I aim for the throne, grandfather," I said truthfully. "There are some things that will make sense in the future, and I need the Seven Kingdoms to be united for the true threat."
"What are you talking about?" he asked, and I ignored the way his eyes shone when he heard I was thinking of claiming the throne for myself.
"The White Walkers are real. We have proof to show the rest of the Riverlands, but I'm afraid we will need to crush the Lannisters and take the throne before that," I replied. "Thankfully, we have time for this since the Wall stands strong, but it will not last. I don't know how much time we have, but I hope we have some years before it becomes pressing."
He stayed silent for a while, his eyes searching mine for any signs of deception, before asking, "Do you really have proof?"
"Aye, we will show it in the war council today."
"Then I will be present. And, Robb? Impress my lords. If you manage that, the Riverlands will bend the knee," he assured me.
I nodded at him. "We have a deal, grandfather," and I exited the room.
The next few days would be the most pivotal part of this war. Saving Riverrun from the Lannisters and starting to push them from these lands were only the first steps. I needed some victories under my name since most of my fights had been lowkey before, not counting the ones against the Freys and Boltons.
But this would be the first time I would fight in an open field with an army. Thankfully, the Riverlands had some experienced lords who could give better ideas than I could with them advising on the best way to proceed.
My idea was to destroy the supply lines and scatter his soldiers using my insects, but I was sure Ser Brynden or Jason Mallister could have more devious ideas, and I wasn't egotistical enough to ignore counsel.
One thing I liked about myself was that when people said there was a better way, I listened. So if any of the generals had better ideas, they were more than welcome to join.
Searching for Jon with my power, I approached where he was located. It appeared he was helping the Greenmen with some supplies.
Since I left them with their orders, they managed to heal a lot of the wounded. Thankfully, even if the patients were weirded out by their appearance and the way they worked, none said no when asked if they could cure the wounds. Being at death's door made people forget their faith.
"How are things going, Jon?" I asked.
"There are way too many wounded, Robb," he replied, shaking his head in sadness. "I'm afraid without Sylvyrn and the rest, most of them would have died. Thankfully, your uncle Edmure came to calm things down. Their appearance scared some of the more devout believers."
"I'll thank him later, then," I nodded. "Go and rest. We have a war council tonight. Search for the heirs; I'll tell Jason."
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Chapter 57: A New Player Enters the Game
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Riverrun
Jon Snow
"Dacey, Smalljon," I greeted them, happy to see my friends, but that ceased as I saw how ragged they were running. "Is everything all right?" I asked.
"Jon," she nodded in response. "Just tired. There are a lot of wounded, and our supplies have taken a hit."
"Anything of note?"
"No, we can take it. It's just that it will probably be a while before we can set the supply line," Smalljon noted.
"How long are we talking about?" I asked, wondering if the bottom part of the Riverlands would be secured enough for us to leave them be.
Robb had decided to use the King's Road for our supply line since the Vale hadn't done anything since the conflict started, and the Lannisters only controlled the upper part of the land.
There would be a mix of northern soldiers and Riverlander lords taking care of it until the Crossroads Inn. Then, the River road would be protected by a small part of the army.
I agreed with him, the same as most lords since it would help us greatly to have an ongoing supply of food and medicine, even if Robb could produce it by himself.
I shuddered, remembering the scene at Winterfell where Robb showed me his "breeding pit." The number of insects present there scared and disgusted me. And the worst part of it was that the amount I saw was insignificant compared to what he had at his disposal now.
I didn't know how many he had, and to be honest, I was afraid of the answer. I couldn't deny that his power was impressive, even better than the songs of magic I've heard in my short life.
Chuckling weakly at our plight, I shook my head. Going to war at fourteen name days wasn't something I dreamed of, but I was going to do my best for the North and the realm.
"Make sure you tell Robb in the war council later tonight," I ordered. "We could use some of the ravens here to send orders to Winterfell."
"Aye," Dacey replied. "It's a good thing our king decided to help the lords with our grain and fertilizer. With the number of soldiers we have, food would become a problem sooner than we could imagine."
"Aye, and winter is coming," said Smalljon. "I'm sure of it, and that will make it worse."
"Thankfully, Father bought enough food from the Reach," I agreed. "Also, the new crops that are resistant to the cold will be useful."
"Well, I just wanted you to know that there will be a war council tonight, and Robb wants us to be there," I continued. "We will take the Wight for the lords present."
"I'm getting tired of dragging that thing," said Dacey, shivering in disgust. "I hope our king can destroy them for good."
"I believe in him," I nodded. "And you should too. I'm sure he will be sitting on the throne before long."
Bidding my farewells, I started searching for the rest of the heirs that had come with us. This war was for the young of the North since all the northern lords stayed there to protect it. I was sure it was going to be difficult since we didn't have experience in these kinds of battles, but we would prevail. I was sure of it.
Robb Stark
Before the war started, I couldn't even imagine the amount of suffering people endured during a conflict. As I observed with all my senses the entire castle, I saw smallfolk, soldiers, and highborns doing whatever they could to support their liege lords. It was almost heartwarming to see them work in tandem, without thinking about their origins.
Obviously, not everyone was like that, but most were helping wherever they could. Women, either peasants or highborn, helped the septas or healers with the wounded. Children carried small crates of food for people who needed it.
This scene made me realize that I needed to step up my game. Not only for my future subjects but for my own peace of mind. I had the power to put a stop to this faster than in canon, but I wasn't doing much at the moment.
Shaking my head, I went back to the room where the war council would be held. I needed to learn about what was happening to make plans and provide ideas. My great-uncle, Jason Mallister, and maybe even my grandfather could provide better plans, but I wanted to ensure I contributed something besides the strength of my army.
Thinking about the situation we were in, I realized that Riverrun was surrounded from the south, with half of the Lannister army sieging the castle. Thanks to my great-uncle, they weren't capable of pushing for a full siege, but this would not last. With Jaime destroying the rest of the Riverlands with the other half, we couldn't focus on a single army and leave the other to its devices.
It was a difficult situation, but I had an idea that might help us. Since we were here with a big army, we could probably decimate the Lannisters. It would be risky since I would need to approach them because right now they were just outside my range. I needed to get closer to start spoiling their supplies.
But before making any decision, I needed to talk with the generals. I was sure they would push for a meeting, even if it would be for nothing. Tywin was in a bad spot. They started this conflict because of the queen and the new son. They needed to show force, so he could not back down even if he wanted to. The Riverlands were vying for their blood, so even if they decided to cut their losses, we couldn't allow them to escape without problems.
Well, whatever. What is done is done. For now, I just needed the throne, to fight against the rest of the "kings," and make myself the most important person in the realm.
Two hours later.
Thankfully, we had enough supplies to prepare a banquet to raise the morale. It would only be done this one time since we couldn't waste our resources, but it was needed. There was an air of depression and defeat in the castle, even after we arrived to help. The name of Tywin Lannister sowed fear inside the Riverlands, and a newly appointed King in the North didn't rouse their spirits as I had hoped.
We needed victories, and we needed them now. That's why I spent the whole banquet in silence, trying to form plans, but it was for naught. There weren't any more ideas than the ones I had before.
It was a dire situation, and I could see I wasn't the only one in the hall with grim faces, even if the smallfolk present or the ladies were happy with the feast. Most lords, soldiers, and even children were serious.
"There must be something we can do to calm everyone down," I told my great-uncle, who was sitting next to me.
He snorted with grim humor. "If you have something, go ahead, Robb," he shook his head. "They don't understand war, and since we have been pushed to this castle, they only hear about our defeats, even if they cost the Lannisters way more than what they intended."
"Aye, you did a wonderful job, Ser Brynden." I nodded. "By the way, I meant to ask this before, but with everything going on, I forgot," I continued. "Did you truly cut the arm off a general?"
"Aye," he nodded. "The bastard was a damn good fighter, enough for me to respect the cunt even after everything they have done."
"Warriors of that caliber deserve respect," I nodded. "Do you know who he was?" I asked.
"Have you heard of the Strongboar?" he huffed. "Damn, an apt name for the fucker. Almost killed me before I cut his arm."
I let out a dumbfounded chuckle. "You cut Ser Lyle Crakehall's arm?"
"I also find it hard to believe," he huffed. "I'm a good swordsman, but even I know it was mostly due to luck."
I nodded since it was true. He was damn good, but he wasn't at that level. My great-uncle excelled in warfare as a general, not as a frontline fighter, even if he could defend himself.
"We didn't hear much since we were on the move," I continued. "What can you tell me about the Lannister forces? At least the ones we will fight first."
"Tywin and his brother Kevan are at the lead," he started explaining, happy to help me get a clue about the situation at hand.
"They cut their army in half, as you heard, but even like that, they outnumbered us since I couldn't call the bannermen in the short amount of time I had," he continued. "We set a trap at the entrance of the Golden Tooth, but it wasn't enough."
"Aye, but you gave your best," I consoled when I noticed him dipping his head to the table. "We were on the back foot, but no more. We'll punish them for their sins, great uncle. I give you my word."
"What happened next?" I asked.
He grunted and looked at me. "We had multiple skirmishes, but they managed to defeat us thanks to their superior numbers. I'm not one to boast, but I know if I had similar numbers as Tywin, we wouldn't be in such dire circumstances."
"Understandable, great uncle," I replied. "How many soldiers are laying siege to the castle?"
"Tywin has twenty-five thousand soldiers outside the castle, and Jaime has a little bit under fifteen thousand at Mummers' Ford," he said with a grim tone.
"I've been thinking of how to proceed with this war, great uncle. But I need someone with more experience to give me some ideas," I said with a tilt of my head. "What would happen if we win a fight against Tywin and force him to retreat to Jaime?"
"It would give us time, Robb. But if we don't deal significant damage to the army, we will be on the losing end even if we win that battle," he said, shaking his head.
"What kind of damage would we need to do for it to be worthwhile?" I asked.
I wasn't sure about this. Conflict of this level was something new for me, and I didn't want to get some victories that ended with us being at a disadvantage once again in the future.
"If we were to at least deprive them of half of his forces, we would have an advantage," he replied. "But that is a fool's dream; they would retreat before coming to that. Tywin is an asshole, but he knows his stuff. He also has his brother Kevan at his side."
"Would it be possible if I had a way to cut their retreat?" I asked seriously, already having some ideas. The main one would be to use my wildfire insects to set ablaze their backs and separate the force into cubicles, so they wouldn't be able to escape while our army destroyed them.
The only problem I had with this was how to convince the Riverlords that we needed to keep some of the invaders alive. They wanted blood, but that didn't mean we could kill them indiscriminately. Every able soldier would be a boon for the fight against the others, and if I couldn't help the Wildlings before the Night King got them, we would need them a lot more. Just thinking of an undead army of over a hundred thousand made me shiver in fright.
"Hah," he laughed. "If you could do that, the army we have now could decimate them. Do you have some ideas?"
"Aye," I replied. "Just the bare bones for now, but I'll surely talk about them in the war council."
After that, our conversation halted since there wasn't much more we could plan without the input of the rest of the generals. There were a lot of lords in Riverrun right now, most of them if I was being honest, so I was sure we could plan something truly devious against Tywin's army.
Looking around, I smiled seeing how the people danced and drank, forgetting the bad times. This alone was worth it. And knowing I was the reason for this made me really happy.
As I was talking with different people at the table, I frowned, since I could feel a contingency of people running toward the hall as if their lives depended on it. I got on guard, calling my insects to use at a moment's notice just in case something bad happened.
As they entered the hall, almost dropping the large wooden door in their haste, I wondered what had happened to make them like this.
"My lords," the one in the lead said, "I bring really dire news," he finished panting.
There was absolute silence in the hall, but Edmure stood up instead of his father. "What happened, Ser Ebron?" he asked.
"My lord," he panted, "this is bad, really bad," he continued mumbling, and I could see multiple lords frowning in distaste.
"Out with it, boy," shouted Lord Ser Raymun Darry, Lord of Castle Darry.
"The Targaryens have returned!" he shouted in fright. "A supposed Aegon Targaryen fought against Stannis Baratheon!"
There was chaos in the hall, and I couldn't deny I felt perplexed myself. Since I didn't have spies in Essos and beyond, I was going only by my canon knowledge, but I barely remember that there was a supposed Aegon in the books. Since there were multiple mystical elements in this world, I had already inferred that I was at least in a mix between the books and the series, but this was the nail in the coffin.
If this Aegon, and it didn't matter if he was FAegon or legitimately Aegon, was here, it meant that our fight just got more difficult since there were new variables I hadn't taken into consideration.
"What are his forces?" I asked in a calm voice, trying to hide my shock at the news.
"He brought the Golden Company, my lord," the boy replied. "He beat Lord Stannis. He had to retreat since they fought him when he least expected it."
"This is bad," I murmured, and I could hear my great-uncle snort in disbelief.
"This is worse than bad, Robb. There are a lot of Targaryen loyalists left in Westeros," he replied softly so that only I could hear.
Thinking about it for a minute, I stood up. "This chaos isn't helping," I bellowed. "Do not worry, we will protect these lands against whoever attacks, it doesn't matter if it is the Lannisters, the Tyrells, or a new Targaryen. I give my word as the King in the North that we will not let them damage these lands without paying the price."
It was small, but thankfully the Northerners started cheering after my shout, and little by little, the rest followed. This barely-thought speech didn't mean much, but at least it calmed the people down.
"It appears that we need to have the war meeting done quickly," I said to the lords sitting at the main table. "We have much to discuss. Meet me there in half an hour." I stood up, with my people following after me.
The Riverlands
Tywin Lannister
The scent of unwashed bodies mixed with sweat permeated my nostrils, and I grimaced—a grim reminder of the war I had to fight thanks to the stupidity of my daughter. This could have been squashed at the beginning, but Cersei was so headstrong, thinking she was smarter than most, that she forced my hand.
Now, it didn't matter if we were in the right; the people of Westeros would see us as the villains. It didn't matter much; I had gained my infamy with the Rains of Castamere, but it would leave a bad taste in the mouth of the rest. But it didn't matter; a lion doesn't care about the sheep's opinion.
Maps and parchments were sprawled before me, detailing the Riverlands and the positions of my army. My council stood around me—Kevan, Gregor Clegane, Adam Marbrand, and the one-armed Strongboar.
Looking at him, I shook my head in disgust. One of the best swordsmen of the Westerlands reduced to a cripple by someone who shouldn't have been there in the first place. I still didn't know how the Blackfish knew we would attack the Riverlands with enough time to set a trap, but he had done so. Even with his small army, he was capable of damaging my army more than it should have been possible.
I knew he had problems with his brother, Hoster Tully, but I had already planned for his return. I just didn't expect it to be even before we passed the Golden Tooth.
Each of my commanders, including myself, knew the gravity of the situation. Riverrun had held longer than expected, thanks to Brynden Tully, but everyone knew the Riverlords were beginning to buckle.
"We should strike now," Gregor Clegane growled, towering over others with his usual impatience. "We need to attack before they can regroup. The castle supplies must be running thin."
I glanced at the Mountain with calculating eyes. The brute appetite for destruction was useful, but the timing was the most important thing in a war, and I had not held my position by being reckless. My army had thinned since I gave fifteen thousand men to Jaime, and while we outnumbered the Tully forces and had them pinned in one place, I couldn't deny I was feeling something was wrong.
"They are weak, yes," I began, with a measured voice to project the implacable image I had cultivated since my youth, "but that doesn't mean they will crumble with the first strike. Our scouts have already reported that the Riverlords are digging in, trying to fortify Riverrun to the high heavens. If we press them too hard, we risk scattering our forces and stretching our supply lines."
Kevan, my brother, was someone whose counsel was important to hear, even if I wouldn't admit it out loud. Out of all my family members, he was the one I trusted the most. So as he spoke, I listened. "We've already cut off several of their food supplies and scorched the southern part of their farmland. It's only a matter of time before they starve or turn on each other."
"Is there someone inside the castle that we could use to sow chaos or buy?" he asked.
I nodded. Kevan was right. The Riverlands were suffering, and his strategy had been to bleed them out slowly, leaving no room for them to recuperate. "There is some merit in your idea, brother," I replied. "The Brackens could be bought. Their enmity with the Blackwoods is known to all. If the Blackwoods choose to support their liege lords, the Brackens would join us just to spite their enemies."
Kevan nodded. "I'll test the waters, brother. If I find it is possible, I'll make a deal with them. If they are capable of sowing chaos in the castle, our victory is imminent."
"You have my permission, Kevan," I nodded. "We need to ensure that when we strike, it is decisive."
"What about the Starks?" asked Emmon Frey, Genna's husband and an insult to the honor of my family name. What Tytos Lannister had in his head while he made that offer escaped me.
But he had a point. We haven't had much news of the North in the last five years. We didn't know much about their numbers, their supplies—nothing at all. It was irritating, and Cersei went out of her way to make an enemy out of them. And the worst part was that she lost the only hostage that could have stopped them from marching south, who disappeared after leaving a bloodbath through the capital without anyone the wiser.
I suspected that Eddard Stark had already reached the North, but I was not sure what he was going to do in the future. Would he march against us? I suspected he would. The honorable fool would try to support the Riverlands and bring peace to the realm, but who would he support? Renly was out of the question, and the most probable one was Stannis. But I didn't know if his lords would support him in these endeavors.
The North was the kingdom that gave the most in the last two wars and received nothing in return. It was possible that the Northern lords would not march once again, or if they did, they would do so begrudgingly.
"The Freys would not let him pass before bleeding him dry," Kevan said out loud. "Everyone here knows the weasel your father is, Emmon. You know he would stop them if they don't pay tribute, and the North would not have the coin necessary to pass a sizable army."
"You are wrong, Kevan," I reminded him lightly. "The North is not as impoverished as before. With the sales from their vodka and other products, I'm sure they have enough coin to buy passage."
"This is bad, then," Kevan replied. "Emmon, make sure you send a raven to the Twins. Explain the situation to your father. I'm sure he will understand that it's better to ally with us than with the dying Tully."
Emmon nodded, but before he could reply, the flaps of the tent rustled as a rider burst through, dirt and exhaustion painted across his face. The man bowed hurriedly, catching his breath.
"My lord," the rider panted, "I bring urgent news."
I arched an eyebrow, gesturing for him to speak. My patience was as thin as the Riverlords' morale, and I wouldn't take interruptions lightly.
"Robb Stark," the rider continued, his voice trembling. "He has arrived at Riverrun. He has crossed the Twins with a very large host and has already entered the castle. Our scouts estimate over twenty-five thousand men, probably closer to thirty."
For a heartbeat, the entire tent was silent.
My face remained impassive, but inwardly, my mind raced. I had expected Eddard Stark to make a move, not his son. And never this soon—nor with such numbers. That the famous Ghost of the North had mustered a force this size so quickly was a surprise, though not an insurmountable one.
Emmon stood up frantically. "Thirty thousand men? My father would have never allowed this, even without my raven. There is no way he would have permitted an army that size to enter the Riverlands."
The rider got his breathing under control. "That's not all, my lords. I'm afraid the Twins have fallen."
"What do you mean the Twins fell?" roared Emmon, charging at the rider like a bull.
"Control yourself," I barked, and some guards grabbed him by the arms, pulling him away from the scout.
"Explain everything," I ordered simply.
"From what we've heard from some merchants on the King's Road, the newly appointed King of the North has invaded the South," the scout said in fright. "They tell tales of plague following him, of how he killed every male Frey in the Twins, including Lord Walder Frey, and took control of his castle."
Kevan stepped forward, concern etched on his face. "He has been named king? Is the boy mad? He has no claim to the Iron Throne!"
"Thirty thousand men?" he mumbled. "If he joins with the Blackfish, Riverrun will be reinforced beyond what we anticipated."
The Mountain grunted, his fingers itching to draw his sword. "Let me ride out and crush him. The supposed king is just a boy playing at war. His army will break."
My lips thinned, the weight of the situation bearing down. "No," I said quietly but firmly. "Eddard Stark is no fool. If he allowed his son to lead such a big army south while he's nowhere to be seen, it must mean he trusts him completely. The fact that he is a proclaimed king while his father is still alive must mean something."
The Strongboar grunted. "Do you remember the songs of his achievements in the North? Maybe there was some truth in them."
I did my best to ignore the pathetic sight of Emmon crying his eyes out, and I studied the map again, considering the various routes Robb could take. The Twins had been a critical point of entry, and Robb had seized it before my forces could even hear about what was happening. Curse the Blackfish. If he wasn't there, I was sure we could have been in control of Riverrun long before Robb Stark arrived.
It was a testament to the young Robb Stark's growing acumen in warfare. If Robb joined forces with the remnants of the Riverlords and his uncle, I would have a greater battle on my hands than I anticipated.
"We cannot underestimate him," I continued. "This won't be a mistake on my part. He now has the counsel of the Blackfish and multiple lords experienced in warfare. He will be a true threat whom we'll crush like a bug."
Kevan spoke in a low but steady tone. "If Robb Stark helps Riverrun, our siege will be drawn out, and we'll face a worse conflict than intended. Riverrun might hold, and with his reinforcements, our position will weaken."
I nodded in understanding; this was bad. "Then we must ensure Stark doesn't have his full strength when he fights against us." I tapped the map, my fingers tracing along the Riverroad. "We will harry his forces, make him overcommit to save the lands closer to Jaime's."
"Send riders to Mummer's Ford; Jaime's forces can be used to press Stark to protect that part of the Riverlands, while we bait him into a trap here while he is weakened."
The Mountain's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "I can ride out, my lord. My men can cut his supplies just to add more chaos."
I shook my head. "No, Gregor. You are too valuable to risk in an early skirmish. Robb Stark would retreat if he knew we were coming for him in full force. Instead, we will use our lighter forces to harass him and wear down his army while he marches. We'll draw him into the river valleys, where his numbers will work against him." I glanced at Kevan. "Ensure the archers and cavalry are prepared. I want every crossing of the Red Fork covered."
Kevan nodded and began issuing orders to the other commanders before stopping cold in his tracks, looking almost mechanically at the scout. "What do you mean, plague following him, lad?" he asked.
"That's what the merchants said, milord," the scout nodded profusely. "That the sun dims in his presence and the sound of doom can be heard while his army fights."
"Bahaha!" The Mountain laughed loudly at that. "I'm going to show the pup what it means to dim the lights."
Kevan snorted. "Snarks and grumpkins."
With everything he needed to say, the scout left the tent, leaving a weird atmosphere with the last part. Some people laughed, others got confused, but none believed those high tales.
I turned back to the map, a slow, deliberate smile forming on my face. Robb Stark had proven to be a more resourceful adversary than I had believed, making people spread lies to build his reputation. But resourcefulness did not guarantee victory. The Riverlands were still bleeding, and I had every intention of letting that bleed continue—until there was nothing left but ruin. My grandson would be king, a feared king, just like me. And we could see that it worked. No one had even tried to rise against me in the Westerlands after Castamere, and this war would set that song to the past, birthing new ones for my family.
"Stark is coming," I said, my voice cold. "But he will not find the Riverlands as easy a victory as he hopes. Prepare the men. The young wolf is walking into the lion's den."
The commanders nodded and moved to execute my orders. As they left the tent one by one, I stood by the table, my hands gripping the edge as I stared down at the map. The war was going to take another turn, and I would ensure it favored House Lannister.
"Let the boy come," I muttered to myself. "He'll soon learn the cost of playing with the grownups. He cannot win the Game of Thrones."
With that, I stepped outside into the camp, which was a sea of crimson banners, with the lion of Casterly Rock fluttering proudly in the wind. It was a marvelous sight, and I would make sure it was the last thing Robb Stark and the Riverlanders saw before it all came crashing down for them.
As I was about to show a small smile, it froze on my face at the scene in front of me. Another group of scouts rode in as if their lives depended on it, fear etched on their faces.
"What is the meaning of this?" Kevan thundered, where he was talking with the rest of the commanders.
"You are part of the Lannister army," he boomed. "There is no reason for you to act so unsightly."
"Milord, bad news," the rider screamed with all his force. "There is a Targaryen army in Westeros once more."
Whatever Kevan was about to reply with stopped in his tracks, and I could feel a bead of sweat on my brow.
"What Targaryen army, boy?" I asked, my voice as cold as the North.
"A supposed Aegon Targaryen just defeated Stannis Baratheon's army. He has now disembarked at Griffin's Roost," he bellowed. I regretted asking this in front of the whole army.
Hushed whispers could be heard in the vicinity, and Kevan shot me an alarmed look.
"What army does he have?" Kevan asked, and I praised him in my head. With the shock of this news, I had completely forgotten about that key point.
"It is supposedly the Golden Company, milord," he said seriously.
"Well… fuck," I thought.
If you want to support me or read up to 25k words ahead, you can find me on patr*e on . co m (slash) Infinityreads99
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Jon Snow
"Dacey, Smalljon," I greeted them, happy to see my friends, but that ceased as I saw how ragged they were running. "Is everything all right?" I asked.
"Jon," she nodded in response. "Just tired. There are a lot of wounded, and our supplies have taken a hit."
"Anything of note?"
"No, we can take it. It's just that it will probably be a while before we can set the supply line," Smalljon noted.
"How long are we talking about?" I asked, wondering if the bottom part of the Riverlands would be secured enough for us to leave them be.
Robb had decided to use the King's Road for our supply line since the Vale hadn't done anything since the conflict started, and the Lannisters only controlled the upper part of the land.
There would be a mix of northern soldiers and Riverlander lords taking care of it until the Crossroads Inn. Then, the River road would be protected by a small part of the army.
I agreed with him, the same as most lords since it would help us greatly to have an ongoing supply of food and medicine, even if Robb could produce it by himself.
I shuddered, remembering the scene at Winterfell where Robb showed me his "breeding pit." The number of insects present there scared and disgusted me. And the worst part of it was that the amount I saw was insignificant compared to what he had at his disposal now.
I didn't know how many he had, and to be honest, I was afraid of the answer. I couldn't deny that his power was impressive, even better than the songs of magic I've heard in my short life.
Chuckling weakly at our plight, I shook my head. Going to war at fourteen name days wasn't something I dreamed of, but I was going to do my best for the North and the realm.
"Make sure you tell Robb in the war council later tonight," I ordered. "We could use some of the ravens here to send orders to Winterfell."
"Aye," Dacey replied. "It's a good thing our king decided to help the lords with our grain and fertilizer. With the number of soldiers we have, food would become a problem sooner than we could imagine."
"Aye, and winter is coming," said Smalljon. "I'm sure of it, and that will make it worse."
"Thankfully, Father bought enough food from the Reach," I agreed. "Also, the new crops that are resistant to the cold will be useful."
"Well, I just wanted you to know that there will be a war council tonight, and Robb wants us to be there," I continued. "We will take the Wight for the lords present."
"I'm getting tired of dragging that thing," said Dacey, shivering in disgust. "I hope our king can destroy them for good."
"I believe in him," I nodded. "And you should too. I'm sure he will be sitting on the throne before long."
Bidding my farewells, I started searching for the rest of the heirs that had come with us. This war was for the young of the North since all the northern lords stayed there to protect it. I was sure it was going to be difficult since we didn't have experience in these kinds of battles, but we would prevail. I was sure of it.
Robb Stark
Before the war started, I couldn't even imagine the amount of suffering people endured during a conflict. As I observed with all my senses the entire castle, I saw smallfolk, soldiers, and highborns doing whatever they could to support their liege lords. It was almost heartwarming to see them work in tandem, without thinking about their origins.
Obviously, not everyone was like that, but most were helping wherever they could. Women, either peasants or highborn, helped the septas or healers with the wounded. Children carried small crates of food for people who needed it.
This scene made me realize that I needed to step up my game. Not only for my future subjects but for my own peace of mind. I had the power to put a stop to this faster than in canon, but I wasn't doing much at the moment.
Shaking my head, I went back to the room where the war council would be held. I needed to learn about what was happening to make plans and provide ideas. My great-uncle, Jason Mallister, and maybe even my grandfather could provide better plans, but I wanted to ensure I contributed something besides the strength of my army.
Thinking about the situation we were in, I realized that Riverrun was surrounded from the south, with half of the Lannister army sieging the castle. Thanks to my great-uncle, they weren't capable of pushing for a full siege, but this would not last. With Jaime destroying the rest of the Riverlands with the other half, we couldn't focus on a single army and leave the other to its devices.
It was a difficult situation, but I had an idea that might help us. Since we were here with a big army, we could probably decimate the Lannisters. It would be risky since I would need to approach them because right now they were just outside my range. I needed to get closer to start spoiling their supplies.
But before making any decision, I needed to talk with the generals. I was sure they would push for a meeting, even if it would be for nothing. Tywin was in a bad spot. They started this conflict because of the queen and the new son. They needed to show force, so he could not back down even if he wanted to. The Riverlands were vying for their blood, so even if they decided to cut their losses, we couldn't allow them to escape without problems.
Well, whatever. What is done is done. For now, I just needed the throne, to fight against the rest of the "kings," and make myself the most important person in the realm.
Two hours later.
Thankfully, we had enough supplies to prepare a banquet to raise the morale. It would only be done this one time since we couldn't waste our resources, but it was needed. There was an air of depression and defeat in the castle, even after we arrived to help. The name of Tywin Lannister sowed fear inside the Riverlands, and a newly appointed King in the North didn't rouse their spirits as I had hoped.
We needed victories, and we needed them now. That's why I spent the whole banquet in silence, trying to form plans, but it was for naught. There weren't any more ideas than the ones I had before.
It was a dire situation, and I could see I wasn't the only one in the hall with grim faces, even if the smallfolk present or the ladies were happy with the feast. Most lords, soldiers, and even children were serious.
"There must be something we can do to calm everyone down," I told my great-uncle, who was sitting next to me.
He snorted with grim humor. "If you have something, go ahead, Robb," he shook his head. "They don't understand war, and since we have been pushed to this castle, they only hear about our defeats, even if they cost the Lannisters way more than what they intended."
"Aye, you did a wonderful job, Ser Brynden." I nodded. "By the way, I meant to ask this before, but with everything going on, I forgot," I continued. "Did you truly cut the arm off a general?"
"Aye," he nodded. "The bastard was a damn good fighter, enough for me to respect the cunt even after everything they have done."
"Warriors of that caliber deserve respect," I nodded. "Do you know who he was?" I asked.
"Have you heard of the Strongboar?" he huffed. "Damn, an apt name for the fucker. Almost killed me before I cut his arm."
I let out a dumbfounded chuckle. "You cut Ser Lyle Crakehall's arm?"
"I also find it hard to believe," he huffed. "I'm a good swordsman, but even I know it was mostly due to luck."
I nodded since it was true. He was damn good, but he wasn't at that level. My great-uncle excelled in warfare as a general, not as a frontline fighter, even if he could defend himself.
"We didn't hear much since we were on the move," I continued. "What can you tell me about the Lannister forces? At least the ones we will fight first."
"Tywin and his brother Kevan are at the lead," he started explaining, happy to help me get a clue about the situation at hand.
"They cut their army in half, as you heard, but even like that, they outnumbered us since I couldn't call the bannermen in the short amount of time I had," he continued. "We set a trap at the entrance of the Golden Tooth, but it wasn't enough."
"Aye, but you gave your best," I consoled when I noticed him dipping his head to the table. "We were on the back foot, but no more. We'll punish them for their sins, great uncle. I give you my word."
"What happened next?" I asked.
He grunted and looked at me. "We had multiple skirmishes, but they managed to defeat us thanks to their superior numbers. I'm not one to boast, but I know if I had similar numbers as Tywin, we wouldn't be in such dire circumstances."
"Understandable, great uncle," I replied. "How many soldiers are laying siege to the castle?"
"Tywin has twenty-five thousand soldiers outside the castle, and Jaime has a little bit under fifteen thousand at Mummers' Ford," he said with a grim tone.
"I've been thinking of how to proceed with this war, great uncle. But I need someone with more experience to give me some ideas," I said with a tilt of my head. "What would happen if we win a fight against Tywin and force him to retreat to Jaime?"
"It would give us time, Robb. But if we don't deal significant damage to the army, we will be on the losing end even if we win that battle," he said, shaking his head.
"What kind of damage would we need to do for it to be worthwhile?" I asked.
I wasn't sure about this. Conflict of this level was something new for me, and I didn't want to get some victories that ended with us being at a disadvantage once again in the future.
"If we were to at least deprive them of half of his forces, we would have an advantage," he replied. "But that is a fool's dream; they would retreat before coming to that. Tywin is an asshole, but he knows his stuff. He also has his brother Kevan at his side."
"Would it be possible if I had a way to cut their retreat?" I asked seriously, already having some ideas. The main one would be to use my wildfire insects to set ablaze their backs and separate the force into cubicles, so they wouldn't be able to escape while our army destroyed them.
The only problem I had with this was how to convince the Riverlords that we needed to keep some of the invaders alive. They wanted blood, but that didn't mean we could kill them indiscriminately. Every able soldier would be a boon for the fight against the others, and if I couldn't help the Wildlings before the Night King got them, we would need them a lot more. Just thinking of an undead army of over a hundred thousand made me shiver in fright.
"Hah," he laughed. "If you could do that, the army we have now could decimate them. Do you have some ideas?"
"Aye," I replied. "Just the bare bones for now, but I'll surely talk about them in the war council."
After that, our conversation halted since there wasn't much more we could plan without the input of the rest of the generals. There were a lot of lords in Riverrun right now, most of them if I was being honest, so I was sure we could plan something truly devious against Tywin's army.
Looking around, I smiled seeing how the people danced and drank, forgetting the bad times. This alone was worth it. And knowing I was the reason for this made me really happy.
As I was talking with different people at the table, I frowned, since I could feel a contingency of people running toward the hall as if their lives depended on it. I got on guard, calling my insects to use at a moment's notice just in case something bad happened.
As they entered the hall, almost dropping the large wooden door in their haste, I wondered what had happened to make them like this.
"My lords," the one in the lead said, "I bring really dire news," he finished panting.
There was absolute silence in the hall, but Edmure stood up instead of his father. "What happened, Ser Ebron?" he asked.
"My lord," he panted, "this is bad, really bad," he continued mumbling, and I could see multiple lords frowning in distaste.
"Out with it, boy," shouted Lord Ser Raymun Darry, Lord of Castle Darry.
"The Targaryens have returned!" he shouted in fright. "A supposed Aegon Targaryen fought against Stannis Baratheon!"
There was chaos in the hall, and I couldn't deny I felt perplexed myself. Since I didn't have spies in Essos and beyond, I was going only by my canon knowledge, but I barely remember that there was a supposed Aegon in the books. Since there were multiple mystical elements in this world, I had already inferred that I was at least in a mix between the books and the series, but this was the nail in the coffin.
If this Aegon, and it didn't matter if he was FAegon or legitimately Aegon, was here, it meant that our fight just got more difficult since there were new variables I hadn't taken into consideration.
"What are his forces?" I asked in a calm voice, trying to hide my shock at the news.
"He brought the Golden Company, my lord," the boy replied. "He beat Lord Stannis. He had to retreat since they fought him when he least expected it."
"This is bad," I murmured, and I could hear my great-uncle snort in disbelief.
"This is worse than bad, Robb. There are a lot of Targaryen loyalists left in Westeros," he replied softly so that only I could hear.
Thinking about it for a minute, I stood up. "This chaos isn't helping," I bellowed. "Do not worry, we will protect these lands against whoever attacks, it doesn't matter if it is the Lannisters, the Tyrells, or a new Targaryen. I give my word as the King in the North that we will not let them damage these lands without paying the price."
It was small, but thankfully the Northerners started cheering after my shout, and little by little, the rest followed. This barely-thought speech didn't mean much, but at least it calmed the people down.
"It appears that we need to have the war meeting done quickly," I said to the lords sitting at the main table. "We have much to discuss. Meet me there in half an hour." I stood up, with my people following after me.
The Riverlands
Tywin Lannister
The scent of unwashed bodies mixed with sweat permeated my nostrils, and I grimaced—a grim reminder of the war I had to fight thanks to the stupidity of my daughter. This could have been squashed at the beginning, but Cersei was so headstrong, thinking she was smarter than most, that she forced my hand.
Now, it didn't matter if we were in the right; the people of Westeros would see us as the villains. It didn't matter much; I had gained my infamy with the Rains of Castamere, but it would leave a bad taste in the mouth of the rest. But it didn't matter; a lion doesn't care about the sheep's opinion.
Maps and parchments were sprawled before me, detailing the Riverlands and the positions of my army. My council stood around me—Kevan, Gregor Clegane, Adam Marbrand, and the one-armed Strongboar.
Looking at him, I shook my head in disgust. One of the best swordsmen of the Westerlands reduced to a cripple by someone who shouldn't have been there in the first place. I still didn't know how the Blackfish knew we would attack the Riverlands with enough time to set a trap, but he had done so. Even with his small army, he was capable of damaging my army more than it should have been possible.
I knew he had problems with his brother, Hoster Tully, but I had already planned for his return. I just didn't expect it to be even before we passed the Golden Tooth.
Each of my commanders, including myself, knew the gravity of the situation. Riverrun had held longer than expected, thanks to Brynden Tully, but everyone knew the Riverlords were beginning to buckle.
"We should strike now," Gregor Clegane growled, towering over others with his usual impatience. "We need to attack before they can regroup. The castle supplies must be running thin."
I glanced at the Mountain with calculating eyes. The brute appetite for destruction was useful, but the timing was the most important thing in a war, and I had not held my position by being reckless. My army had thinned since I gave fifteen thousand men to Jaime, and while we outnumbered the Tully forces and had them pinned in one place, I couldn't deny I was feeling something was wrong.
"They are weak, yes," I began, with a measured voice to project the implacable image I had cultivated since my youth, "but that doesn't mean they will crumble with the first strike. Our scouts have already reported that the Riverlords are digging in, trying to fortify Riverrun to the high heavens. If we press them too hard, we risk scattering our forces and stretching our supply lines."
Kevan, my brother, was someone whose counsel was important to hear, even if I wouldn't admit it out loud. Out of all my family members, he was the one I trusted the most. So as he spoke, I listened. "We've already cut off several of their food supplies and scorched the southern part of their farmland. It's only a matter of time before they starve or turn on each other."
"Is there someone inside the castle that we could use to sow chaos or buy?" he asked.
I nodded. Kevan was right. The Riverlands were suffering, and his strategy had been to bleed them out slowly, leaving no room for them to recuperate. "There is some merit in your idea, brother," I replied. "The Brackens could be bought. Their enmity with the Blackwoods is known to all. If the Blackwoods choose to support their liege lords, the Brackens would join us just to spite their enemies."
Kevan nodded. "I'll test the waters, brother. If I find it is possible, I'll make a deal with them. If they are capable of sowing chaos in the castle, our victory is imminent."
"You have my permission, Kevan," I nodded. "We need to ensure that when we strike, it is decisive."
"What about the Starks?" asked Emmon Frey, Genna's husband and an insult to the honor of my family name. What Tytos Lannister had in his head while he made that offer escaped me.
But he had a point. We haven't had much news of the North in the last five years. We didn't know much about their numbers, their supplies—nothing at all. It was irritating, and Cersei went out of her way to make an enemy out of them. And the worst part was that she lost the only hostage that could have stopped them from marching south, who disappeared after leaving a bloodbath through the capital without anyone the wiser.
I suspected that Eddard Stark had already reached the North, but I was not sure what he was going to do in the future. Would he march against us? I suspected he would. The honorable fool would try to support the Riverlands and bring peace to the realm, but who would he support? Renly was out of the question, and the most probable one was Stannis. But I didn't know if his lords would support him in these endeavors.
The North was the kingdom that gave the most in the last two wars and received nothing in return. It was possible that the Northern lords would not march once again, or if they did, they would do so begrudgingly.
"The Freys would not let him pass before bleeding him dry," Kevan said out loud. "Everyone here knows the weasel your father is, Emmon. You know he would stop them if they don't pay tribute, and the North would not have the coin necessary to pass a sizable army."
"You are wrong, Kevan," I reminded him lightly. "The North is not as impoverished as before. With the sales from their vodka and other products, I'm sure they have enough coin to buy passage."
"This is bad, then," Kevan replied. "Emmon, make sure you send a raven to the Twins. Explain the situation to your father. I'm sure he will understand that it's better to ally with us than with the dying Tully."
Emmon nodded, but before he could reply, the flaps of the tent rustled as a rider burst through, dirt and exhaustion painted across his face. The man bowed hurriedly, catching his breath.
"My lord," the rider panted, "I bring urgent news."
I arched an eyebrow, gesturing for him to speak. My patience was as thin as the Riverlords' morale, and I wouldn't take interruptions lightly.
"Robb Stark," the rider continued, his voice trembling. "He has arrived at Riverrun. He has crossed the Twins with a very large host and has already entered the castle. Our scouts estimate over twenty-five thousand men, probably closer to thirty."
For a heartbeat, the entire tent was silent.
My face remained impassive, but inwardly, my mind raced. I had expected Eddard Stark to make a move, not his son. And never this soon—nor with such numbers. That the famous Ghost of the North had mustered a force this size so quickly was a surprise, though not an insurmountable one.
Emmon stood up frantically. "Thirty thousand men? My father would have never allowed this, even without my raven. There is no way he would have permitted an army that size to enter the Riverlands."
The rider got his breathing under control. "That's not all, my lords. I'm afraid the Twins have fallen."
"What do you mean the Twins fell?" roared Emmon, charging at the rider like a bull.
"Control yourself," I barked, and some guards grabbed him by the arms, pulling him away from the scout.
"Explain everything," I ordered simply.
"From what we've heard from some merchants on the King's Road, the newly appointed King of the North has invaded the South," the scout said in fright. "They tell tales of plague following him, of how he killed every male Frey in the Twins, including Lord Walder Frey, and took control of his castle."
Kevan stepped forward, concern etched on his face. "He has been named king? Is the boy mad? He has no claim to the Iron Throne!"
"Thirty thousand men?" he mumbled. "If he joins with the Blackfish, Riverrun will be reinforced beyond what we anticipated."
The Mountain grunted, his fingers itching to draw his sword. "Let me ride out and crush him. The supposed king is just a boy playing at war. His army will break."
My lips thinned, the weight of the situation bearing down. "No," I said quietly but firmly. "Eddard Stark is no fool. If he allowed his son to lead such a big army south while he's nowhere to be seen, it must mean he trusts him completely. The fact that he is a proclaimed king while his father is still alive must mean something."
The Strongboar grunted. "Do you remember the songs of his achievements in the North? Maybe there was some truth in them."
I did my best to ignore the pathetic sight of Emmon crying his eyes out, and I studied the map again, considering the various routes Robb could take. The Twins had been a critical point of entry, and Robb had seized it before my forces could even hear about what was happening. Curse the Blackfish. If he wasn't there, I was sure we could have been in control of Riverrun long before Robb Stark arrived.
It was a testament to the young Robb Stark's growing acumen in warfare. If Robb joined forces with the remnants of the Riverlords and his uncle, I would have a greater battle on my hands than I anticipated.
"We cannot underestimate him," I continued. "This won't be a mistake on my part. He now has the counsel of the Blackfish and multiple lords experienced in warfare. He will be a true threat whom we'll crush like a bug."
Kevan spoke in a low but steady tone. "If Robb Stark helps Riverrun, our siege will be drawn out, and we'll face a worse conflict than intended. Riverrun might hold, and with his reinforcements, our position will weaken."
I nodded in understanding; this was bad. "Then we must ensure Stark doesn't have his full strength when he fights against us." I tapped the map, my fingers tracing along the Riverroad. "We will harry his forces, make him overcommit to save the lands closer to Jaime's."
"Send riders to Mummer's Ford; Jaime's forces can be used to press Stark to protect that part of the Riverlands, while we bait him into a trap here while he is weakened."
The Mountain's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "I can ride out, my lord. My men can cut his supplies just to add more chaos."
I shook my head. "No, Gregor. You are too valuable to risk in an early skirmish. Robb Stark would retreat if he knew we were coming for him in full force. Instead, we will use our lighter forces to harass him and wear down his army while he marches. We'll draw him into the river valleys, where his numbers will work against him." I glanced at Kevan. "Ensure the archers and cavalry are prepared. I want every crossing of the Red Fork covered."
Kevan nodded and began issuing orders to the other commanders before stopping cold in his tracks, looking almost mechanically at the scout. "What do you mean, plague following him, lad?" he asked.
"That's what the merchants said, milord," the scout nodded profusely. "That the sun dims in his presence and the sound of doom can be heard while his army fights."
"Bahaha!" The Mountain laughed loudly at that. "I'm going to show the pup what it means to dim the lights."
Kevan snorted. "Snarks and grumpkins."
With everything he needed to say, the scout left the tent, leaving a weird atmosphere with the last part. Some people laughed, others got confused, but none believed those high tales.
I turned back to the map, a slow, deliberate smile forming on my face. Robb Stark had proven to be a more resourceful adversary than I had believed, making people spread lies to build his reputation. But resourcefulness did not guarantee victory. The Riverlands were still bleeding, and I had every intention of letting that bleed continue—until there was nothing left but ruin. My grandson would be king, a feared king, just like me. And we could see that it worked. No one had even tried to rise against me in the Westerlands after Castamere, and this war would set that song to the past, birthing new ones for my family.
"Stark is coming," I said, my voice cold. "But he will not find the Riverlands as easy a victory as he hopes. Prepare the men. The young wolf is walking into the lion's den."
The commanders nodded and moved to execute my orders. As they left the tent one by one, I stood by the table, my hands gripping the edge as I stared down at the map. The war was going to take another turn, and I would ensure it favored House Lannister.
"Let the boy come," I muttered to myself. "He'll soon learn the cost of playing with the grownups. He cannot win the Game of Thrones."
With that, I stepped outside into the camp, which was a sea of crimson banners, with the lion of Casterly Rock fluttering proudly in the wind. It was a marvelous sight, and I would make sure it was the last thing Robb Stark and the Riverlanders saw before it all came crashing down for them.
As I was about to show a small smile, it froze on my face at the scene in front of me. Another group of scouts rode in as if their lives depended on it, fear etched on their faces.
"What is the meaning of this?" Kevan thundered, where he was talking with the rest of the commanders.
"You are part of the Lannister army," he boomed. "There is no reason for you to act so unsightly."
"Milord, bad news," the rider screamed with all his force. "There is a Targaryen army in Westeros once more."
Whatever Kevan was about to reply with stopped in his tracks, and I could feel a bead of sweat on my brow.
"What Targaryen army, boy?" I asked, my voice as cold as the North.
"A supposed Aegon Targaryen just defeated Stannis Baratheon's army. He has now disembarked at Griffin's Roost," he bellowed. I regretted asking this in front of the whole army.
Hushed whispers could be heard in the vicinity, and Kevan shot me an alarmed look.
"What army does he have?" Kevan asked, and I praised him in my head. With the shock of this news, I had completely forgotten about that key point.
"It is supposedly the Golden Company, milord," he said seriously.
"Well… fuck," I thought.
If you want to support me or read up to 25k words ahead, you can find me on patr*e on . co m (slash) Infinityreads99
Discord link: discord .gg/ 85WTCT5G
ATP
Muted
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Golden Company would fall like everybody else.But - they would be useful fighting both Lannisters and Renly for Robb.The more of them die fighting each other,the better.
Only problem - Robb do not have rights to iron Throne.What about using Jon as puppet?
Only problem - Robb do not have rights to iron Throne.What about using Jon as puppet?
Tahlreth
Making the rounds.
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I thought his current plan is to have a political marriage with Daenerys.
Tsumegothorns
Know what you're doing yet?
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That's real nice.
Lord Akuma
Know what you're doing yet?
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I am pretty sure that covering all of Kingslanding in insects under his control is all the right to the throne Robb needs. When you have the biggest stick everyone listens. The Targs had no claim to Westeros at first.
Shaedy Hoe
Thicc Shaedy
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Take a shot every time someone responds with an "aye" and see if your body can survive the alcohol poisoning.
PLEASE try and switch yo vocabulary every now and then cos your characters can sometimes sound a tad bit monotonous. Love the story, though!
Do you mean "the new king"?
Why the hell is fAegon here all of a sudden? The boy's barely got hair on his balls and unlike Rob, he don't got the clout or the mystical mojo necessary for people to look past his age. Also, the civil war had barely kicked off for him to even be able benefit from all the chaos which was the OG Plan. Don't tell me that all of Rob's shenanigans these past few years had spooked Varys sooo much that he'd finally decided to rush his plan for his nephew?
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Thanks ! that should work...if she is not mad arleady.
Chapter 58: War Council and the Reach.
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Chapter 58: War Council and the Reach
Author's note: Last chapter before the battle between Robb and Tywin! That will be chapter 59. I'm still not sure if I'll include the Edmure battle in the same chapter or something else, but rest assured, it will be a juicy chapter!
Riverrun
Robb Stark
I didn't know how to feel about what happened in the hall. On one hand, another player in the game would make my enemies split their attention even more than before, but I couldn't deny that having such a large force attacking the land was daunting.
The Golden Company was founded by Ser Aegor Rivers, a legitimized Targaryen bastard. He was also called Bittersteel, and he created the company after the defeat of the Blackfyre Rebellion. He mainly (according to the books I'd read in Winterfell) did so to continue the fight against the Targaryens in exile.
They were known as one of the most disciplined, loyal, and powerful sellsword companies in the Free Cities. Unlike other sellsword companies, they were famous for not breaking contracts and for being more honorable in their dealings than most, at least until now. If they were supporting Aegon in his conquest it must mean that they left their last contract uncompleted, and I didn't know how that made me feel.
It was a problem since the company typically numbered around ten thousand men, including cavalry, infantry, archers, and even war elephants. They were well-trained and heavily armored, making them a formidable force. But that wasn't the main problem, at least for me, since I knew I could swarm them to death with some trouble.
What complicated things was that, as my great uncle said, some houses were Targaryen sympathizers even after Robert's Rebellion. So, it was adding chaos to an already sensitive political tightrope that Westeros had become. Now, I couldn't be so sure which houses would decide to support him while under my supposed rule, and that truly did piss me off. I didnt have the time to waste checking everyone at any time.
I knew from the series that some houses in the Riverlands were like that, including House Tarbeck, which were inside the castle right now. I would need to keep a close eye on them, but hopefully, with a significant show of force against the Lannisters, I could change their thoughts.
From what I inferred, the war elephants wouldn't be of much use in Westeros' terrain, but if we fought on a plain, my normal insects would be incapable of doing much damage even if I attacked in droves. My only plan against them was to fill their mouths and trunks with my wildfire insects. The problem was that the number of them I had at my disposal was abysmal. Even with the added millions I had under my control, I couldn't increase my biomass supply without affecting the environment.
Thankfully, I remembered something important—something disgusting that made me facepalm when I thought about it. The fastest way to increase my energy supply without affecting the environment was something I had never considered before, something that every single human being produced: poop. The answer was right in front of me all this time. In the Middle Ages, not many places had a plumbing method, and from what I knew about King's Landing, there was an excess of excrement so monumental that it made the capital city reek of shit.
I began using that as fuel since I couldn't consume the flora and fauna of the places I visited without affecting them for the future.
Shaking my head to clear those disgusting thoughts, I focused on the table, where a map of the Riverlands was spread out. The Northerners were already with me, besides Jon and Dacey who were bringing the Wight for the final part of the meeting, and my men filled a big part of the room. For now, I was just waiting for the riverlords to arrive so we could begin planning. I didn't doubt that Tywin Lannister already knew about my arrival since we hadn't been silent about it.
I wondered how they would react to the news. Would I be underestimated by him? Or would he see me as a threat? I didn't know for sure, but the biggest possibilitywould be the former. As much as I disliked the man, I couldn't deny that he had a good head on his shoulders.
Little by little, the riverlords began entering the room, and after ten minutes, it was brimming with people. There were over seven thousand soldiers from the Riverlands in the castle, all from different lords, plus my thirty thousand, of which twenty were from the North and the rest from the Twins, Brackens, Mallisters, and the lords who chose to follow me, not counting the small group led by Bronn, who was also present.
I could see some of my Northern brethren disliking the man, but even they couldn't deny that he was good with a sword. Smalljon had tried to fight him, and Bronn had defeated him quickly. He'd been gaining popularity among the ranks, and that was fine by me. If he felt that wanted, it would be easier to keep him in line.
When Hoster Tully entered the room, everyone went silent. The old lord was helped by my uncle Edmure and his brother, Ser Brynden. His old age was plain for all to see, but the fact that he tried to keep himself involved despite his health raised morale.
Since everyone of importance had arrived, I motioned to beggin the war council.
"My lords," I stood up, "It's been some hours since we arrived, so let me explain what has happened during our travels."
"First of all, the Freys are no more," I stated, and I saw some of the lords smile at my declaration, though there were some who didn't.
"You had no right!" exclaimed Karyl Vance, the newly appointed lord of House Vance after the death of his father during the fight at the Golden Tooth.
With his shout, I saw some of the riverlords agreeing with him, and I also noticed that my grandfather was watching me closely to see how I would respond under pressure. Mentally rolling my eyes, I spoke before my men could become rowdy due to the perceived slight.
"Lord Vance?" I asked, just to buy time. I knew who he was, but he didnt know that. His house was so small that I could feign ignorance of who he was while using the time provided to formulate a response. "I had every right. The Freys, led by the late Walder Frey, decided not to join the defense of their liege. I don't know how things are done here, but in the North, a house ignoring their land burning for petty reasons is considered treason."
Before he could reply, I continued, "But that's beside the point." I shook my head. "If he didn't wish to join the fight against the Lannisters, I wouldn't have cared. But he denied my army passage, insulting the brave Northern men behind me who were coming to support you. He claimed it would take time and asked for outrageous things just for passage. The bastard even had the gall to ask for my sister's hand in marriage."
I was lying through my teeth, but they didnt know that and my men wouldn't tattle on me.
As I said this, I saw my grandfather nod in satisfaction. And with a little effort, he intervened. "The Freys have been a thorn in the Riverlands for a long time, and they won't be missed," he said curtly.
"I trust nothing of note happened in the castle?" he asked me seriously.
"Nothing at all. The women and children were spared, and my men will continue to protect them." I assured him, raising my hands in defense. "I gave my word. For now, the Twins are under the command of Robin Flint of Widow's Watch. He'll use the lands across the Twins as farms with our inventions and equipment. That way, we'll have even more supplies for the war."
He nodded in satisfaction and took his seat once more.
"I've been meaning to ask for a while, Robb," Edmure rose from his seat, "what different method does the North use for its lands? It's been more than four years since the North started buying less and less food from the rest of the kingdoms, and I'm sure you would not let the smallfolk starve."
"It's something only the North can make, uncle," I grunted. "But since it's important for the future, I'll answer what I can."
Closing my eyes just for show, I called a small part of my swarm.
"This is the reason for the North's success in recent years. I can control them," I said, nodding toward the small cloud of insects flying inside the tent.
Gasps of surprise and a whimper of disgust could be heard, and I snorted. "This is what will help us win this war with little trouble."
"Insects?" my great-uncle grunted, slightly dismissive.
"Ha!" I laughed. "Yes, Ser Brynden. Do you think they won't be of help?"
He was silent for a few seconds before asking, "How many can you control?"
I gave a sadistic smile. "All of them. Right now, I have over twenty million insects under my control."
No one scoffed or gasped this time, but I heard some lords whimper in their seats, and most of them fidgeted uncomfortably.
Ser Brynden stood up in alarm. "What the fuck do you mean, twenty million?" he asked in disbelief.
"Haha, I love seeing these reactions," I smiled. "But that's not all," I ordered two specific insects to land on my side of the room, where there was some space.
"Look at this. An insignificant little insect, isn't it?" I said softly. "Would any of you look at it differently before knowing my power?"
The lords with more willpower calmed down and scrutinized the beetle.
"It's just a normal beetle," said my uncle after examining it.
"Aye, a normal one," I laughed. "Now look at this beauty." With a thought, I ordered the beetle to crash at its maximum speed against the floor, which was thankfully made of stone.
As everyone observed the beetle fly faster than a normal one, I could barely hear the splat as it hit the floor. But what truly grabbed everyone's attention was a flicker of green light.
"Fucking wildfire?" shouted some lords from the back, and everyone made space, backing up as fast as they could.
The second beetle I had called earlier flew toward the small spark of wildfire, splatting against the ground and dousing the flames. Since I had an instinctual understanding of my creations, I was able to craft insects that could extinguish the fire. Using them was no longer a risk, at least not as much since it still was one of the most dangerous concoctions made in Planetos.
"Now imagine," I intoned as I saw them inch closer to inspect the now empty spot, the only evidence a burn mark on the stone. "The Lannister army attacking with their full force, wanting to execute the newly crowned King in the North and erase the threat against his grandson. Now, a sizable part of their army can't advance more because the path is burning green, and they get attacked from behind." I smiled deviously. "He'll try to run, maybe he'll manage, but I'm sure he'll lose many men, possibly even important ones."
I could see my plan dawning on them, and my grandfather burst out laughing. "It's a damn good plan, even just the outline makes my heart race, grandson," he said, nodding with respect. "I'm sure we could bounce some ideas around to improve it."
My great-uncle nodded. "Aye, we can work with this. But how do we move a sizable part of the army behind their back without being seen?"
"Anyone willing to let me use them as an example?" I asked aloud, receiving deadpan stares in response.
Snorting, I added, "I promise nothing bad will happen to you. You have my word."
"What do you need me to do, nephew?" asked Edmure seriously. I gave him a happy smile. I knew that if none of the Riverlords stood up, my men would. But his willingness to show complete support with this action paved the way for the Riverlords to bend the knee to a Stark rule in the future.
"Just sit down and press your back against the seat," I said calmly, as everyone followed the mosquito flying through the air. When it finally reached Edmure, it bit him, and everyone leaned in to see what would happen.
"I barely felt that," he said loudly, just as the mosquito's prick pierced his skin.
As soon as he spoke, his entire demeanor shifted. His eyes darted around, glassy as though he was seeing things the rest of us couldn't. He blinked rapidly, his brows furrowing in confusion.
"What's… happening?" he slurred, the words coming out slowly, as though he'd drunk like Lord Umber in a wild night.
His body buckled, and he swayed in his seat, reaching out to the table in front of him for support, but his world was already fading. From what my studies suggested, the colors were blending together under my psychedelic concoction.
A murmur passed through the small crowd of Riverlords, some exchanging worried glances, others watching with fascination. Thankfully, everyone knew I wouldn't cause lasting harm to my kin, so no one reached for their swords.
Edmure's eyes, wide and full of panic, searched the room one last time, but I knew he could no longer form words. This was my most potent drug to induce unconsciousness, and nothing more. It wouldn't harm him, and he would wake up when I injected the antidote.
Finally, his body gave in, crumpling into his seat in slow motion. His breathing slowed, and a deep, dreamless sleep claimed him. The room fell silent, save for the quiet exhale as his body relaxed completely.
Giving it a moment, I continued, "What do you think scouts will report to Tywin Lannister if they fall asleep during their work? They wouldn't say a thing, afraid of what he would do to them. His ruthlessness will work against him." I chuckled.
After injecting the antidote with another mosquito, everyone relaxed as soon as Edmure woke up, looking around in confusion. "Thank you for your trust, Uncle," I said with a smile.
"What happened?" he asked grogilly as he finally gathered himself.
"You fell asleep," I snorted.
"Now, what do you all think?" I addressed the assembled lords.
"If we could lead ten thousand men behind the Lannister army without being seen, as you said before, they would not see it coming at all and we could inflict significant damage," nodded Ser Brynden, a cold glint in his eyes.
"It would take hours to do that," I continued, "since I need to be present to knock out the scouts. If they find out while I'm not with you, we could suffer significant losses."
A buff man stood up. I wondered why the master-at-arms of Riverrun decided to interject.
"My lord," he said to me, "You may not know who I am, but my family has lived near the Tumblestone for over a thousand years. I've been the master-at-arms of this castle for the last forty years, but I remember some caves that we could use to hide the army led by Ser Brynden." He nodded at my great-uncle. "The Lannisters burned my family's lands, forcing them to leave. But I'm certain we know the terrain better than Tywin and his generals."
Thinking for a moment, I looked at Ser Brynden. "What do you think?"
He grunted thoughtfully. "Doable. If they don't find us before we hide, we'll be at an advantage. But we can only take infantry to move silently."
"That won't be a problem, great-uncle. I can make most horses sleep when the conflict starts, don't worry about that," I assured him. "Maybe I can time it right so some soldiers suffer injuries from their falls."
"There's another topic we must discuss," rasped my grandfather. "Jaime's army is at the Mummer's Ford, and I'm sure Tywin will use them to split our attention."
"I have failed in protecting my people, but now that you are here, I ask for your help," he said, bowing his head.
"You are family, Grandfather," I smiled. "Of course, I will help against them. It will also sell my inexperience, which we can use to our advantage."
"What do you mean, Robb?" asked Edmure.
"Think about it. I'm the son of one of the most honorable men in the realm. What am I expected to do if Jaime is causing destruction in the Riverlands while his father remains idle in his camp?"
"You would send a sizable part of your army and overcommit," whispered Edmure. "That's what your father would do; he wouldn't stomach leaving people to suffer for the sake of victory."
"Aye, but I don't need such a large army," I smirked, pointing to my insects. "We'll send twenty thousand soldiers to confront Jaime and bring him to justice. Among them will be the green men of the Isle of Faces. They aren't many, but their magic will help you win, or at least force Jaime to retreat to his father."
"I won't knock out the scouts on that side of the Riverlands, so Tywin will know I've overcommitted and will attack us when he sees I have fewer men than he does."
"So, ten thousand men will follow my great-uncle to attack the Lannisters from behind. Another seven thousand will stay with me on the front line, and the rest will confront Jaime," I concluded.
"What do you all think?" I asked with a smile.
"I like it," grunted my great-uncle.
"I can see it working," said Jason Mallister, shaking his head. "You truly had an ace up your sleeve, King Robb."
"But who will lead the army against Jaime?" asked Hoster. "I'm afraid I can't do it," he chuckled.
"Leave that to me, Father," said Edmure seriously. "I'll lead the fight against him and make him pay for his sins against the Riverlands."
"There is one more thing we must discuss before we execute our plans," I interjected. "Some of the lords who came with me already know, but we'll need to keep many soldiers alive."
"After everything they've done, you come here and ask us to spare them?" spat the Lord of Pinkmaiden.
"Aye," I nodded. "I know it will be hard, but there is a threat beyond the Wall, and we will need everyone on board to defeat it."
At that moment, Jon entered the room, accompanied by Dacey and some soldiers carrying the Wight. "As you can see," I began, ignoring the shouts of shock, "the Long Night is approaching, and we need the kingdoms to unite."
"Their army could number over a hundred thousand of these creatures. They don't tire, they don't hunger, and you can't harm them without fire, Valyrian steel, or dragonglass. Every person who falls to them joins them in death," I continued gravely.
"Do you know how many people live in the North?" I asked, and when no one answered, I said, "Over three million."
"Think about it. If we fail, the South will have to fight over three million undead soldiers."
Those who understood the threat of the White Walkers were aghast, and even the slow ones began to pale in fright.
"The Lannisters will pay for what they've done, I assure you, but they will do so by giving their lives for the living," Jon declared firmly, and I nodded. "You lords must understand the gravity of the situation. The reason I'm pushing for the throne is to unite the Seven Kingdoms, and maybe even beyond, to fight the Long Night."
Highgarden
Renly Baratheon reclined comfortably on a cushioned bench. The atmosphere inside the great hall of Highgarden was harmonious, even as they prepared for his bid for the Iron Throne. It was a feast worthy of the Reach, with platters full of fruit, more meat than the people in the room could eat, and the finest wines from the Arbor. Around him, the lords and ladies of the south laughed, drank, and celebrated, despite the war looming on the horizon.
Renly chuckled; this was the reason he acted the way he did. People loved him, even going against the line of succession to support him. He was the better of the two living Baratheon brothers. Stannis never understood the importance of the smallfolk, with his grumpy demeanor that did nothing to endear him to the masses. There was no way in the seven hells that he would be a good king, and most people realized that.
He was sure he'd be a better king than ten Stannises. It wouldn't even be that difficult—he had the support of the Stormlands and the Reach, giving him the largest army in the conflict. All Renly needed were a few victories to sway other kingdoms to his side.
However, despite his relaxed appearance, he wasn't entirely at ease. His eyes flickered occasionally toward the entrance, hoping for news from his scouts. The war was ongoing, and every moment wasted in Highgarden, waiting for the Tyrell armies to assemble, grated on him. Yet, he understood that patience was necessary. The Reach had promised him their strength—over eighty thousand strong—but mobilizing such a force and setting up supply lines to support them took time.
"More wine, my king?" Loras Tyrell offered from his side with a warm smile. Renly's lover truly knew how to soothe his nerves, but he shook his head lightly.
"No, thank you, Loras. I've had enough for now," Renly replied, scanning the room once more. The lords of the Reach feasted around him—Randyll Tarly, Lord Hightower, and several others. Their voices were raised in conversations about alliances, harvests, and other matters. Yet none spoke of the most important issue—the conflict between the Lannisters, led by Tywin himself, and the Riverlands.
"What of the war, Lord Tarly?" Renly asked, raising his voice just enough to cut through the conversation. His tone was casual, but it carried weight. There was a need to discuss the less pleasant happenings in the realm.
Randyll Tarly, one of the finest commanders in Westeros, looked up from his cup. "The Riverlands burn, my king, as they have since the beginning of this mess," he said gruffly. "The Lannisters have the upper hand, no surprise there. Tywin knows how to wage war. But the appearance of the Blackfish has them advancing slowly. Even with one-third the number of men Tywin has, he was able to stop them at Riverrun."
"It's a shame it wasn't enough," Lord Hightower commented lightly. "For now, the Riverlords are besieged by Tywin while the Kingslayer razes multiple keeps unopposed. Riverrun will fall before long if they don't receive assistance, obviously."
Renly hummed thoughtfully. "Who could assist the Riverlands, my lords?"
Most kingdoms already supported one contender or another, but there hadn't been any news from Dorne, the North, or Vale.
"Only the Vale or the North, my king," replied Randyll Tarly. "But there has been no word of Eddard Stark since he escaped from the Red Keep, and the Vale has remained silent since all this began."
Just as Renly went to reply, the great doors of the hall creaked open, and Maester Alwyn entered in haste, clutching a message.
Renly stood from his seat, his lazy countenance vanishing. "You have news, Maester Alwyn?" he asked sharply.
"Indeed, King Renly," the maester replied. "Several ravens arrived today, and most of them are of great importance."
"Get on with it," Renly smiled genially.
"First of all," the maester began, "Lord Stannis has suffered a resounding defeat at the hands of the Golden Company."
"The Golden Company should be in Essos, Maester Alwyn," grunted Lord Hightower. Known for his thirst for knowledge, he knew the Golden Company had a contract in Essos and was famed for their loyalty.
"I'm afraid not anymore, my lord," the maester replied. "They are supporting a supposed Aegon Targaryen. Some say he is the son of the late Rhaegar Targaryen, who was spirited away during the sacking of King's Landing by Tywin's forces. Others say he is a mummer or another Blackfyre."
"That shouldn't be possible," Lord Hightower shook his head. "Would the Golden Company break a contract for this?" he muttered under his breath.
Randyll Tarly snorted. "If they have more to gain from this, I don't see why not. As honorable as they claim to be, I wouldn't be surprised. They are just sellswords, after all."
"What about my brother, Maester?" Renly asked, only somewhat concerned for him—after all, Stannis was family, even if he was on the wrong side of the war.
"He has been utterly defeated, my king," the maester replied. "The Golden Company arrived at Griffin's Roost unexpectedly and attacked when Lord Stannis was least prepared. He lost a quarter of his army—almost two thousand men, according to the messenger."
Renly snorted. "Perhaps now he will bend the knee and support my claim. I don't see how he thinks he can win this war with a tenth of my army."
Mace Tyrell laughed boisterously. "Indeed, my king. My grandsons will sit on the Iron Throne in the future."
Lady Olenna remained silent in her seat, as she often did when important matters arose, her sharp eyes calculating the repercussions of this new player in the Game of Thrones.
"What do we know of this supposed Aegon's forces, Maester?" she asked lightly, tapping her fingers on the table. Margaery sat beside her with a soft frown on her admittedly pretty face.
"The entire company has come to Westeros, my lady," the maester replied. "Their commanders are this supposed Aegon, the exiled Jon Connington, and Harry Strickland."
"How old is he, Maester?" Renly asked, trying to determine if his age matched his claim.
"We don't know for certain, my king," he replied. "Some say he's less than twenty-name days old."
"Bah, a Blackfyre pretender," snorted Mace Tyrell. "Trying to take the throne away from our family."
Renly's eyes tightened at this, but he quickly relaxed his demeanor. "It's a possibility, my lords."
"You mentioned multiple urgent messages, Maester. What are the others?" Renly asked lightly, changing the topic before anyone could get ideas. He knew the Tyrells only supported him because he was a candidate for the throne and unwed, with Margaery's hand as the price. But if there were better options, he wasnt sure they wouldnt betray him.
"The other message is that the North is finally moving, your grace," said the maester, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
"Oh?" asked Lord Tarly. "Did Eddard Stark make a move? I didn't have the honor of fighting him during Robert's Rebellion, but I've heard he is a magnificent general."
"There is no news of Lord Eddard Stark's whereabouts, my lord," the maester shook his head. "I'm afraid the one leading the Northern army is his son, Lord Robb Stark."
"The Ghost of the North?" asked Margaery in a soft voice, her dainty hand covering her mouth as she laughed.
"Indeed, my lady," Maester Alwyn nodded seriously. "I wouldn't underestimate him. He took control of the Twins without any losses and killed every male Frey older than five and ten name days. He is capable and ruthless, according to the message."
Lord Tarly raised his eyebrows. "He is leading the army?"
"Yes, my lord. From what our informants in the Riverlands were able to see, there is no lord of the North in the army. Only the heirs. It appears everyone trusts him with their lives. But that's not all," the maester said with a complicated expression.
"What else could it be?" asked Mace Tyrell impatiently.
"They call him the King in the North, and he is moving to support the Tullys against the Lannisters," said the maester. "This message must have taken some time to arrive, so it's possible he's already reached Riverrun."
"What of it? Just another thorn in our side. He's young and stupid if he thinks he's going to win," Mace waved his hand dismissively.
"Shut up, Mace," Lady Olenna snapped. "He may be young, but he has the North behind him. And if he shows promise, the Riverlands will follow. They might not have an army comparable to ours, but whenever the North joins a conflict, they make a massive impact."
"I remember reading about Cregan Stark during the Dance of the Dragons," said Margaery softly. "The Hour of the Wolf was one of the most important parts of the conflict, even if it came near the end."
"Indeed, silly girl," Lady Olenna smiled softly at her before frowning. "We cannot underestimate this Robb Stark. We know nothing about him besides the songs of the past few years."
Renly stood up. "There will be hardships for all of us during this war for the throne, my lords. But I must say this: everyone here is my friend, my ally, and my future subject," he began his speech. "We stand on the brink of a new era. Our cause is just, and our resolve is unshakable. Here in this magnificent hall, surrounded by the finest of the Reach, I see the strength and determination that will lead us to victory!"
He paused before continuing, "The false kings who sit upon their thrones—Joffrey with his incestuous parents and polluted blood, Robb Stark with his wild ambitions, my brother Stannis with his rigid fanaticism, and this supposed Aegon—will either bend the knee or meet their ends at our hands!"
"But they won't matter," he declared, raising his cup of wine, with the lords following his lead. "We will be victorious. We will bring justice and lead the Seven Kingdoms to a brighter future for everyone!"
The hall erupted in applause and cheers from the ladies, and solemn nods from the lords, each of them promising to do their best in the coming conflict for their just cause.
"As soon as the army is ready, we march! The Seven Kingdoms await us!"
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Author's note: Last chapter before the battle between Robb and Tywin! That will be chapter 59. I'm still not sure if I'll include the Edmure battle in the same chapter or something else, but rest assured, it will be a juicy chapter!
Riverrun
Robb Stark
I didn't know how to feel about what happened in the hall. On one hand, another player in the game would make my enemies split their attention even more than before, but I couldn't deny that having such a large force attacking the land was daunting.
The Golden Company was founded by Ser Aegor Rivers, a legitimized Targaryen bastard. He was also called Bittersteel, and he created the company after the defeat of the Blackfyre Rebellion. He mainly (according to the books I'd read in Winterfell) did so to continue the fight against the Targaryens in exile.
They were known as one of the most disciplined, loyal, and powerful sellsword companies in the Free Cities. Unlike other sellsword companies, they were famous for not breaking contracts and for being more honorable in their dealings than most, at least until now. If they were supporting Aegon in his conquest it must mean that they left their last contract uncompleted, and I didn't know how that made me feel.
It was a problem since the company typically numbered around ten thousand men, including cavalry, infantry, archers, and even war elephants. They were well-trained and heavily armored, making them a formidable force. But that wasn't the main problem, at least for me, since I knew I could swarm them to death with some trouble.
What complicated things was that, as my great uncle said, some houses were Targaryen sympathizers even after Robert's Rebellion. So, it was adding chaos to an already sensitive political tightrope that Westeros had become. Now, I couldn't be so sure which houses would decide to support him while under my supposed rule, and that truly did piss me off. I didnt have the time to waste checking everyone at any time.
I knew from the series that some houses in the Riverlands were like that, including House Tarbeck, which were inside the castle right now. I would need to keep a close eye on them, but hopefully, with a significant show of force against the Lannisters, I could change their thoughts.
From what I inferred, the war elephants wouldn't be of much use in Westeros' terrain, but if we fought on a plain, my normal insects would be incapable of doing much damage even if I attacked in droves. My only plan against them was to fill their mouths and trunks with my wildfire insects. The problem was that the number of them I had at my disposal was abysmal. Even with the added millions I had under my control, I couldn't increase my biomass supply without affecting the environment.
Thankfully, I remembered something important—something disgusting that made me facepalm when I thought about it. The fastest way to increase my energy supply without affecting the environment was something I had never considered before, something that every single human being produced: poop. The answer was right in front of me all this time. In the Middle Ages, not many places had a plumbing method, and from what I knew about King's Landing, there was an excess of excrement so monumental that it made the capital city reek of shit.
I began using that as fuel since I couldn't consume the flora and fauna of the places I visited without affecting them for the future.
Shaking my head to clear those disgusting thoughts, I focused on the table, where a map of the Riverlands was spread out. The Northerners were already with me, besides Jon and Dacey who were bringing the Wight for the final part of the meeting, and my men filled a big part of the room. For now, I was just waiting for the riverlords to arrive so we could begin planning. I didn't doubt that Tywin Lannister already knew about my arrival since we hadn't been silent about it.
I wondered how they would react to the news. Would I be underestimated by him? Or would he see me as a threat? I didn't know for sure, but the biggest possibilitywould be the former. As much as I disliked the man, I couldn't deny that he had a good head on his shoulders.
Little by little, the riverlords began entering the room, and after ten minutes, it was brimming with people. There were over seven thousand soldiers from the Riverlands in the castle, all from different lords, plus my thirty thousand, of which twenty were from the North and the rest from the Twins, Brackens, Mallisters, and the lords who chose to follow me, not counting the small group led by Bronn, who was also present.
I could see some of my Northern brethren disliking the man, but even they couldn't deny that he was good with a sword. Smalljon had tried to fight him, and Bronn had defeated him quickly. He'd been gaining popularity among the ranks, and that was fine by me. If he felt that wanted, it would be easier to keep him in line.
When Hoster Tully entered the room, everyone went silent. The old lord was helped by my uncle Edmure and his brother, Ser Brynden. His old age was plain for all to see, but the fact that he tried to keep himself involved despite his health raised morale.
Since everyone of importance had arrived, I motioned to beggin the war council.
"My lords," I stood up, "It's been some hours since we arrived, so let me explain what has happened during our travels."
"First of all, the Freys are no more," I stated, and I saw some of the lords smile at my declaration, though there were some who didn't.
"You had no right!" exclaimed Karyl Vance, the newly appointed lord of House Vance after the death of his father during the fight at the Golden Tooth.
With his shout, I saw some of the riverlords agreeing with him, and I also noticed that my grandfather was watching me closely to see how I would respond under pressure. Mentally rolling my eyes, I spoke before my men could become rowdy due to the perceived slight.
"Lord Vance?" I asked, just to buy time. I knew who he was, but he didnt know that. His house was so small that I could feign ignorance of who he was while using the time provided to formulate a response. "I had every right. The Freys, led by the late Walder Frey, decided not to join the defense of their liege. I don't know how things are done here, but in the North, a house ignoring their land burning for petty reasons is considered treason."
Before he could reply, I continued, "But that's beside the point." I shook my head. "If he didn't wish to join the fight against the Lannisters, I wouldn't have cared. But he denied my army passage, insulting the brave Northern men behind me who were coming to support you. He claimed it would take time and asked for outrageous things just for passage. The bastard even had the gall to ask for my sister's hand in marriage."
I was lying through my teeth, but they didnt know that and my men wouldn't tattle on me.
As I said this, I saw my grandfather nod in satisfaction. And with a little effort, he intervened. "The Freys have been a thorn in the Riverlands for a long time, and they won't be missed," he said curtly.
"I trust nothing of note happened in the castle?" he asked me seriously.
"Nothing at all. The women and children were spared, and my men will continue to protect them." I assured him, raising my hands in defense. "I gave my word. For now, the Twins are under the command of Robin Flint of Widow's Watch. He'll use the lands across the Twins as farms with our inventions and equipment. That way, we'll have even more supplies for the war."
He nodded in satisfaction and took his seat once more.
"I've been meaning to ask for a while, Robb," Edmure rose from his seat, "what different method does the North use for its lands? It's been more than four years since the North started buying less and less food from the rest of the kingdoms, and I'm sure you would not let the smallfolk starve."
"It's something only the North can make, uncle," I grunted. "But since it's important for the future, I'll answer what I can."
Closing my eyes just for show, I called a small part of my swarm.
"This is the reason for the North's success in recent years. I can control them," I said, nodding toward the small cloud of insects flying inside the tent.
Gasps of surprise and a whimper of disgust could be heard, and I snorted. "This is what will help us win this war with little trouble."
"Insects?" my great-uncle grunted, slightly dismissive.
"Ha!" I laughed. "Yes, Ser Brynden. Do you think they won't be of help?"
He was silent for a few seconds before asking, "How many can you control?"
I gave a sadistic smile. "All of them. Right now, I have over twenty million insects under my control."
No one scoffed or gasped this time, but I heard some lords whimper in their seats, and most of them fidgeted uncomfortably.
Ser Brynden stood up in alarm. "What the fuck do you mean, twenty million?" he asked in disbelief.
"Haha, I love seeing these reactions," I smiled. "But that's not all," I ordered two specific insects to land on my side of the room, where there was some space.
"Look at this. An insignificant little insect, isn't it?" I said softly. "Would any of you look at it differently before knowing my power?"
The lords with more willpower calmed down and scrutinized the beetle.
"It's just a normal beetle," said my uncle after examining it.
"Aye, a normal one," I laughed. "Now look at this beauty." With a thought, I ordered the beetle to crash at its maximum speed against the floor, which was thankfully made of stone.
As everyone observed the beetle fly faster than a normal one, I could barely hear the splat as it hit the floor. But what truly grabbed everyone's attention was a flicker of green light.
"Fucking wildfire?" shouted some lords from the back, and everyone made space, backing up as fast as they could.
The second beetle I had called earlier flew toward the small spark of wildfire, splatting against the ground and dousing the flames. Since I had an instinctual understanding of my creations, I was able to craft insects that could extinguish the fire. Using them was no longer a risk, at least not as much since it still was one of the most dangerous concoctions made in Planetos.
"Now imagine," I intoned as I saw them inch closer to inspect the now empty spot, the only evidence a burn mark on the stone. "The Lannister army attacking with their full force, wanting to execute the newly crowned King in the North and erase the threat against his grandson. Now, a sizable part of their army can't advance more because the path is burning green, and they get attacked from behind." I smiled deviously. "He'll try to run, maybe he'll manage, but I'm sure he'll lose many men, possibly even important ones."
I could see my plan dawning on them, and my grandfather burst out laughing. "It's a damn good plan, even just the outline makes my heart race, grandson," he said, nodding with respect. "I'm sure we could bounce some ideas around to improve it."
My great-uncle nodded. "Aye, we can work with this. But how do we move a sizable part of the army behind their back without being seen?"
"Anyone willing to let me use them as an example?" I asked aloud, receiving deadpan stares in response.
Snorting, I added, "I promise nothing bad will happen to you. You have my word."
"What do you need me to do, nephew?" asked Edmure seriously. I gave him a happy smile. I knew that if none of the Riverlords stood up, my men would. But his willingness to show complete support with this action paved the way for the Riverlords to bend the knee to a Stark rule in the future.
"Just sit down and press your back against the seat," I said calmly, as everyone followed the mosquito flying through the air. When it finally reached Edmure, it bit him, and everyone leaned in to see what would happen.
"I barely felt that," he said loudly, just as the mosquito's prick pierced his skin.
As soon as he spoke, his entire demeanor shifted. His eyes darted around, glassy as though he was seeing things the rest of us couldn't. He blinked rapidly, his brows furrowing in confusion.
"What's… happening?" he slurred, the words coming out slowly, as though he'd drunk like Lord Umber in a wild night.
His body buckled, and he swayed in his seat, reaching out to the table in front of him for support, but his world was already fading. From what my studies suggested, the colors were blending together under my psychedelic concoction.
A murmur passed through the small crowd of Riverlords, some exchanging worried glances, others watching with fascination. Thankfully, everyone knew I wouldn't cause lasting harm to my kin, so no one reached for their swords.
Edmure's eyes, wide and full of panic, searched the room one last time, but I knew he could no longer form words. This was my most potent drug to induce unconsciousness, and nothing more. It wouldn't harm him, and he would wake up when I injected the antidote.
Finally, his body gave in, crumpling into his seat in slow motion. His breathing slowed, and a deep, dreamless sleep claimed him. The room fell silent, save for the quiet exhale as his body relaxed completely.
Giving it a moment, I continued, "What do you think scouts will report to Tywin Lannister if they fall asleep during their work? They wouldn't say a thing, afraid of what he would do to them. His ruthlessness will work against him." I chuckled.
After injecting the antidote with another mosquito, everyone relaxed as soon as Edmure woke up, looking around in confusion. "Thank you for your trust, Uncle," I said with a smile.
"What happened?" he asked grogilly as he finally gathered himself.
"You fell asleep," I snorted.
"Now, what do you all think?" I addressed the assembled lords.
"If we could lead ten thousand men behind the Lannister army without being seen, as you said before, they would not see it coming at all and we could inflict significant damage," nodded Ser Brynden, a cold glint in his eyes.
"It would take hours to do that," I continued, "since I need to be present to knock out the scouts. If they find out while I'm not with you, we could suffer significant losses."
A buff man stood up. I wondered why the master-at-arms of Riverrun decided to interject.
"My lord," he said to me, "You may not know who I am, but my family has lived near the Tumblestone for over a thousand years. I've been the master-at-arms of this castle for the last forty years, but I remember some caves that we could use to hide the army led by Ser Brynden." He nodded at my great-uncle. "The Lannisters burned my family's lands, forcing them to leave. But I'm certain we know the terrain better than Tywin and his generals."
Thinking for a moment, I looked at Ser Brynden. "What do you think?"
He grunted thoughtfully. "Doable. If they don't find us before we hide, we'll be at an advantage. But we can only take infantry to move silently."
"That won't be a problem, great-uncle. I can make most horses sleep when the conflict starts, don't worry about that," I assured him. "Maybe I can time it right so some soldiers suffer injuries from their falls."
"There's another topic we must discuss," rasped my grandfather. "Jaime's army is at the Mummer's Ford, and I'm sure Tywin will use them to split our attention."
"I have failed in protecting my people, but now that you are here, I ask for your help," he said, bowing his head.
"You are family, Grandfather," I smiled. "Of course, I will help against them. It will also sell my inexperience, which we can use to our advantage."
"What do you mean, Robb?" asked Edmure.
"Think about it. I'm the son of one of the most honorable men in the realm. What am I expected to do if Jaime is causing destruction in the Riverlands while his father remains idle in his camp?"
"You would send a sizable part of your army and overcommit," whispered Edmure. "That's what your father would do; he wouldn't stomach leaving people to suffer for the sake of victory."
"Aye, but I don't need such a large army," I smirked, pointing to my insects. "We'll send twenty thousand soldiers to confront Jaime and bring him to justice. Among them will be the green men of the Isle of Faces. They aren't many, but their magic will help you win, or at least force Jaime to retreat to his father."
"I won't knock out the scouts on that side of the Riverlands, so Tywin will know I've overcommitted and will attack us when he sees I have fewer men than he does."
"So, ten thousand men will follow my great-uncle to attack the Lannisters from behind. Another seven thousand will stay with me on the front line, and the rest will confront Jaime," I concluded.
"What do you all think?" I asked with a smile.
"I like it," grunted my great-uncle.
"I can see it working," said Jason Mallister, shaking his head. "You truly had an ace up your sleeve, King Robb."
"But who will lead the army against Jaime?" asked Hoster. "I'm afraid I can't do it," he chuckled.
"Leave that to me, Father," said Edmure seriously. "I'll lead the fight against him and make him pay for his sins against the Riverlands."
"There is one more thing we must discuss before we execute our plans," I interjected. "Some of the lords who came with me already know, but we'll need to keep many soldiers alive."
"After everything they've done, you come here and ask us to spare them?" spat the Lord of Pinkmaiden.
"Aye," I nodded. "I know it will be hard, but there is a threat beyond the Wall, and we will need everyone on board to defeat it."
At that moment, Jon entered the room, accompanied by Dacey and some soldiers carrying the Wight. "As you can see," I began, ignoring the shouts of shock, "the Long Night is approaching, and we need the kingdoms to unite."
"Their army could number over a hundred thousand of these creatures. They don't tire, they don't hunger, and you can't harm them without fire, Valyrian steel, or dragonglass. Every person who falls to them joins them in death," I continued gravely.
"Do you know how many people live in the North?" I asked, and when no one answered, I said, "Over three million."
"Think about it. If we fail, the South will have to fight over three million undead soldiers."
Those who understood the threat of the White Walkers were aghast, and even the slow ones began to pale in fright.
"The Lannisters will pay for what they've done, I assure you, but they will do so by giving their lives for the living," Jon declared firmly, and I nodded. "You lords must understand the gravity of the situation. The reason I'm pushing for the throne is to unite the Seven Kingdoms, and maybe even beyond, to fight the Long Night."
Highgarden
Renly Baratheon reclined comfortably on a cushioned bench. The atmosphere inside the great hall of Highgarden was harmonious, even as they prepared for his bid for the Iron Throne. It was a feast worthy of the Reach, with platters full of fruit, more meat than the people in the room could eat, and the finest wines from the Arbor. Around him, the lords and ladies of the south laughed, drank, and celebrated, despite the war looming on the horizon.
Renly chuckled; this was the reason he acted the way he did. People loved him, even going against the line of succession to support him. He was the better of the two living Baratheon brothers. Stannis never understood the importance of the smallfolk, with his grumpy demeanor that did nothing to endear him to the masses. There was no way in the seven hells that he would be a good king, and most people realized that.
He was sure he'd be a better king than ten Stannises. It wouldn't even be that difficult—he had the support of the Stormlands and the Reach, giving him the largest army in the conflict. All Renly needed were a few victories to sway other kingdoms to his side.
However, despite his relaxed appearance, he wasn't entirely at ease. His eyes flickered occasionally toward the entrance, hoping for news from his scouts. The war was ongoing, and every moment wasted in Highgarden, waiting for the Tyrell armies to assemble, grated on him. Yet, he understood that patience was necessary. The Reach had promised him their strength—over eighty thousand strong—but mobilizing such a force and setting up supply lines to support them took time.
"More wine, my king?" Loras Tyrell offered from his side with a warm smile. Renly's lover truly knew how to soothe his nerves, but he shook his head lightly.
"No, thank you, Loras. I've had enough for now," Renly replied, scanning the room once more. The lords of the Reach feasted around him—Randyll Tarly, Lord Hightower, and several others. Their voices were raised in conversations about alliances, harvests, and other matters. Yet none spoke of the most important issue—the conflict between the Lannisters, led by Tywin himself, and the Riverlands.
"What of the war, Lord Tarly?" Renly asked, raising his voice just enough to cut through the conversation. His tone was casual, but it carried weight. There was a need to discuss the less pleasant happenings in the realm.
Randyll Tarly, one of the finest commanders in Westeros, looked up from his cup. "The Riverlands burn, my king, as they have since the beginning of this mess," he said gruffly. "The Lannisters have the upper hand, no surprise there. Tywin knows how to wage war. But the appearance of the Blackfish has them advancing slowly. Even with one-third the number of men Tywin has, he was able to stop them at Riverrun."
"It's a shame it wasn't enough," Lord Hightower commented lightly. "For now, the Riverlords are besieged by Tywin while the Kingslayer razes multiple keeps unopposed. Riverrun will fall before long if they don't receive assistance, obviously."
Renly hummed thoughtfully. "Who could assist the Riverlands, my lords?"
Most kingdoms already supported one contender or another, but there hadn't been any news from Dorne, the North, or Vale.
"Only the Vale or the North, my king," replied Randyll Tarly. "But there has been no word of Eddard Stark since he escaped from the Red Keep, and the Vale has remained silent since all this began."
Just as Renly went to reply, the great doors of the hall creaked open, and Maester Alwyn entered in haste, clutching a message.
Renly stood from his seat, his lazy countenance vanishing. "You have news, Maester Alwyn?" he asked sharply.
"Indeed, King Renly," the maester replied. "Several ravens arrived today, and most of them are of great importance."
"Get on with it," Renly smiled genially.
"First of all," the maester began, "Lord Stannis has suffered a resounding defeat at the hands of the Golden Company."
"The Golden Company should be in Essos, Maester Alwyn," grunted Lord Hightower. Known for his thirst for knowledge, he knew the Golden Company had a contract in Essos and was famed for their loyalty.
"I'm afraid not anymore, my lord," the maester replied. "They are supporting a supposed Aegon Targaryen. Some say he is the son of the late Rhaegar Targaryen, who was spirited away during the sacking of King's Landing by Tywin's forces. Others say he is a mummer or another Blackfyre."
"That shouldn't be possible," Lord Hightower shook his head. "Would the Golden Company break a contract for this?" he muttered under his breath.
Randyll Tarly snorted. "If they have more to gain from this, I don't see why not. As honorable as they claim to be, I wouldn't be surprised. They are just sellswords, after all."
"What about my brother, Maester?" Renly asked, only somewhat concerned for him—after all, Stannis was family, even if he was on the wrong side of the war.
"He has been utterly defeated, my king," the maester replied. "The Golden Company arrived at Griffin's Roost unexpectedly and attacked when Lord Stannis was least prepared. He lost a quarter of his army—almost two thousand men, according to the messenger."
Renly snorted. "Perhaps now he will bend the knee and support my claim. I don't see how he thinks he can win this war with a tenth of my army."
Mace Tyrell laughed boisterously. "Indeed, my king. My grandsons will sit on the Iron Throne in the future."
Lady Olenna remained silent in her seat, as she often did when important matters arose, her sharp eyes calculating the repercussions of this new player in the Game of Thrones.
"What do we know of this supposed Aegon's forces, Maester?" she asked lightly, tapping her fingers on the table. Margaery sat beside her with a soft frown on her admittedly pretty face.
"The entire company has come to Westeros, my lady," the maester replied. "Their commanders are this supposed Aegon, the exiled Jon Connington, and Harry Strickland."
"How old is he, Maester?" Renly asked, trying to determine if his age matched his claim.
"We don't know for certain, my king," he replied. "Some say he's less than twenty-name days old."
"Bah, a Blackfyre pretender," snorted Mace Tyrell. "Trying to take the throne away from our family."
Renly's eyes tightened at this, but he quickly relaxed his demeanor. "It's a possibility, my lords."
"You mentioned multiple urgent messages, Maester. What are the others?" Renly asked lightly, changing the topic before anyone could get ideas. He knew the Tyrells only supported him because he was a candidate for the throne and unwed, with Margaery's hand as the price. But if there were better options, he wasnt sure they wouldnt betray him.
"The other message is that the North is finally moving, your grace," said the maester, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
"Oh?" asked Lord Tarly. "Did Eddard Stark make a move? I didn't have the honor of fighting him during Robert's Rebellion, but I've heard he is a magnificent general."
"There is no news of Lord Eddard Stark's whereabouts, my lord," the maester shook his head. "I'm afraid the one leading the Northern army is his son, Lord Robb Stark."
"The Ghost of the North?" asked Margaery in a soft voice, her dainty hand covering her mouth as she laughed.
"Indeed, my lady," Maester Alwyn nodded seriously. "I wouldn't underestimate him. He took control of the Twins without any losses and killed every male Frey older than five and ten name days. He is capable and ruthless, according to the message."
Lord Tarly raised his eyebrows. "He is leading the army?"
"Yes, my lord. From what our informants in the Riverlands were able to see, there is no lord of the North in the army. Only the heirs. It appears everyone trusts him with their lives. But that's not all," the maester said with a complicated expression.
"What else could it be?" asked Mace Tyrell impatiently.
"They call him the King in the North, and he is moving to support the Tullys against the Lannisters," said the maester. "This message must have taken some time to arrive, so it's possible he's already reached Riverrun."
"What of it? Just another thorn in our side. He's young and stupid if he thinks he's going to win," Mace waved his hand dismissively.
"Shut up, Mace," Lady Olenna snapped. "He may be young, but he has the North behind him. And if he shows promise, the Riverlands will follow. They might not have an army comparable to ours, but whenever the North joins a conflict, they make a massive impact."
"I remember reading about Cregan Stark during the Dance of the Dragons," said Margaery softly. "The Hour of the Wolf was one of the most important parts of the conflict, even if it came near the end."
"Indeed, silly girl," Lady Olenna smiled softly at her before frowning. "We cannot underestimate this Robb Stark. We know nothing about him besides the songs of the past few years."
Renly stood up. "There will be hardships for all of us during this war for the throne, my lords. But I must say this: everyone here is my friend, my ally, and my future subject," he began his speech. "We stand on the brink of a new era. Our cause is just, and our resolve is unshakable. Here in this magnificent hall, surrounded by the finest of the Reach, I see the strength and determination that will lead us to victory!"
He paused before continuing, "The false kings who sit upon their thrones—Joffrey with his incestuous parents and polluted blood, Robb Stark with his wild ambitions, my brother Stannis with his rigid fanaticism, and this supposed Aegon—will either bend the knee or meet their ends at our hands!"
"But they won't matter," he declared, raising his cup of wine, with the lords following his lead. "We will be victorious. We will bring justice and lead the Seven Kingdoms to a brighter future for everyone!"
The hall erupted in applause and cheers from the ladies, and solemn nods from the lords, each of them promising to do their best in the coming conflict for their just cause.
"As soon as the army is ready, we march! The Seven Kingdoms await us!"
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Chapter 59: A Clash of Wolves and Lions.
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Riverrun
Robb Stark
Two days later.
Providing cover to my great-uncle and ten thousand men was easy, thanks to my insects. We moved when the sun set two days ago, and no one was the wiser. With everything going on around Westeros, it was easy to do so.
Everyone had a lot on their minds. Even those who didn't care who sat on the Iron Throne were paying attention to what would become a turning point in this war. With the news from Griffin's Roost and Stannis' defeat at the hands of the Golden Company, the smallfolk wondered who would be the eventual winner, and most of them hoped for someone better than the last three kings.
It wouldn't even be that hard, since the predecessors were the Mad King, Robert, who left the realm in debt and filled with problems, and his "son," whose legitimacy was still in question. People were already leaving King's Landing in the wake of Joffrey's rule. The capital of the Seven Kingdoms was already in a bad spot, with food scarce and Joffrey's tyranny growing worse by the day.
Worst of all, they were surrounded by enemy forces, even if not directly. Their support was stopped in the Riverlands by House Tully, and now they needed to get past my superior army if they wanted to reach the capital. Renly was amassing his forces in Highgarden with the numerically superior army of the Reach. Stannis, even as weakened as he was, remained a threat with his cunning and superior war mindset. The Golden Company was near them, though they still had to fight through a couple of keeps in their way.
With my great-uncle's battalion already waiting for the conflict, we just needed to sell the scouts the information that Uncle Edmure was leading the biggest part of our combined army against Jaime's. He and multiple lords of the Riverlands would lead the attack, followed by Sylvyrn and his people to add an extra oomph. The Green Men's magic, while not army-destroying, could change the tide of a battle in a heartbeat. With over twenty wargs working as scouts, they could find out enemy movements even better than I could, since their range was greater.
Every time a new weirwood was planted in our path, the power of the Old Gods increased, and so did the Green Men's magic. They were powerful wargs, and their healing abilities were some of the most potent I've seen in both lives, capable of healing someone on the verge of death. But that wasn't all; the most impactful thing they could do was change the terrain and environment when they had sufficient prep time.
They couldn't do something like the Children of the Forest did to destroy the Arm of Dorne, and even if the Old Gods returned to their full power, I doubted Sylvyrn and the rest would reach that level. However, they could control nature to some extent: making it rain, softening the land, creating pitfalls without burrowing in the dirt, summoning mist, and things like that.
Seeing what they were capable of scared me the most because if they could do things like that, I couldn't even imagine what more evil sorcerers were capable of. I had no idea what Euron was doing at the moment, nor Melisandre, for that matter. They were the biggest threats I had in the present since I didn't know much about them, and I was sure the show knowledge I had was completely wrong.
They needed to disappear as soon as I could manage it, for my peace of mind.
Shaking my head, I finished my morning rituals before checking the breeding pit I had in Riverrun. Thanks to my grandfather, I was gifted a large piece of land just outside the castle, and Sylvyrn and Elyndra were tasked with building a subterranean room for my insects. The important people in Riverrun knew about my powers, as I had explained them in the war council, but the rest of the inhabitants hadn't seen me in action. This was done mostly because we still didn't know if there were spies in the castle. I didn't have time to focus on that at the moment, and I knew the lords were batshit scared of what I had shown them, so they wouldn't be the ones to leak information.
But just in case, I didn't give them all the details. They didn't know my range limit, nor the extent of my creations.
Nodding in satisfaction, I observed millions upon millions of insects working on different tasks, from breeding to increase my numbers, to producing products that could be useful in the future. From chitin to make armor—better than the natural chitin thanks to my modifications. It was denser and thicker than normal chitin but didn't become much heavier. It was particularly effective against slashing and blunt weapons but weak against piercing weapons like arrows. That's why the first thing I needed to defeat were the archers in the approaching battle. Besides the chitin, I had asked my grandfather to get me as many containers as he could manage, which would be used to store various kinds of venom for the arrows. Those would only be used in the opening salvo, as they could be deadly for both sides.
I knew my request to leave some soldiers alive was not well received, but even with that order, I could only imagine the kind of bloodbath the Riverlands would become in the future.
Taking a deep breath, I left my room and headed to the courtyard, where Uncle Edmure was already waiting for me to leave. We would do this in the light of day since we needed Tywin to see it. Hopefully, he would buy it.
Arriving at the courtyard, I nodded to everyone I could recognize. Finally approaching my uncle, I cleared my throat to get his attention.
"Are you ready for this, Uncle?" I asked though I knew it wasn't necessary. He had his game face on.
I had learned that if this was the book universe, or at least a crossover between both, the series completely butchered Edmure Tully's character. He was rigid, a damn good commander, and just. He treated the smallfolk as they deserved, even inviting them inside Riverrun during this conflict to give them food and a safe place.
"I am ready, nephew." He gave me a brief smile. "Is there anything you want to tell me before my departure?" he asked.
"Aye, as I said in the war council, Sylvyrn and the rest of the Green Men will follow your lead," I said seriously. "I hope you understand the value they represent. I'm sure you've heard tales of their might—use them cautiously. Sylvyrn will give you some options for what they can do to your advantage, besides warging to scout great distances."
"Aye, I think everyone in the Riverlands has at least heard how they repelled the Andals during their first invasion. According to the legend, that's why they're the only ones who pray to the Old Gods in the South," he replied with a firm nod. "Do not worry, nephew. We will be victorious."
"I trust you," I smiled lightly. "When we finish the battle against Tywin, we will march to support you."
"Understood. Do you know for sure when you'll attack?" he asked. "It's a shame I'll miss it. I'd pay a king's ransom to see his face when you use that little trick of yours."
"Ha! I get happy just imagining it," laughed Karyl Vance, who would go along with Edmure against Jaime. In these days he warmed up to me, understanding that the killings of the twins were necessary and that I didn't do it just to be cruel.
"I'm sure when you all come back, the jesters and bards will have multiple songs about it," I laughed. "You'll probably see him sitting in the cells."
"I'll be sure to pay him a visit," nodded the new Lord Vance seriously. "The bastard ordered the death of my father at the Golden Tooth," he said through gritted teeth.
"As long as you can control yourself," I replied with a mild glare. "He's more useful alive."
He glared back but subsided when Edmure hit him in the back of the head. "I'll make sure he knows how to act toward our prisoners," Edmure said mildly, his face understanding.
"I know it's hard to leave them alive after what they've done," I replied, shaking my head calmly. "I know, believe me, I know. But you must understand that this is just the beginning. We need every advantage we can get."
With that said, I bid farewell to my uncle and the lords accompanying him. It would take a few days for them to reach Mummer's Ford, so there was a slim, really slim chance that we could arrive to support them before their battle was over. Most battles took weeks to conclude, but the one we'd have with Tywin was an exception, as it would be all or nothing.
I couldn't deny that I was nervous about it, but I also felt excitement. This would be my first major battle, and I needed it to be perfect.
For now, I just needed to prepare my swarm and the terrain. One thing my grandfather asked me after the war council struck a chord. There were insects capable of destabilizing the terrain, making burrows underneath, so I would focus on that before the battle.
I would leave a thin film of dirt on top of the holes, using my insects to support it so that it didnt feel or be seen differently. I couldnt show my hand before the Lannister army committed to the attack, I needed to wait for the perfect moment.
Two days later.
Robb Stark.
Everything was ready. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, and the seven thousand men behind me were ready to commit violence against Tywin and his ilk. Jon and the rest of the heirs were at my side, waiting for orders, prepared to delegate them to the troops. I didn't want to risk them at the beginning of the fight, as it would be the most chaotic part.
I had four thousand infantry, and one thousand cavalry, and the rest were archers. The archers already had venoms to coat their arrows. Everything was ready, and everyone waited for my orders to begin.
Tywin Lannister had gathered his forces, as our scouts reported after hearing movement in the gates. His twenty-five thousand men were ready, waiting for me to make the first move. The Lannister banners flew proudly, and I couldn't help but feel nervous seeing the many people who wanted me dead. It was one thing to know about them to see them in person.
It was different fighting from the shadows, as I had done before; there was no way to compare the two types of conflict.
"Remember the plan," I said with a stoic face. "We need them to advance if we want them to fall into my traps."
Jon and the rest nodded resolutely, grim faces all around. Some were exhilarated to be part of a great battle against one of the most famed lords in the realm, while others—the more sensible ones, in my opinion—were nervous but would do what was asked of them in the name of their king.
"Remember not to advance beyond the range of the arrows," shouted Jon, having understood most of my plan.
There were holes in the ground capped by a thin layer of dirt. My insects had worked hard to make this happen before the battle, and while I hadn't been able to do as much as I wanted, there were more than enough to cause disarray in their army.
"May the Old Gods take care of us," murmured Dacey, nervous but with a feral smile on her face.
"Aye," grunted Smalljon, gripping his battle axe hard until his knuckles turned white.
I nodded and said a small prayer for the battle. I knew the Old Gods were watching, and while I didn't know if they would do anything, it wouldn't hurt to ask.
"Give the signal," I shouted.
War horns began to sound in the castle, and the infantry started advancing.
As my men moved forward, slowly but surely, I observed the Lannister army doing the same. Both sides had sent only part of their forces, saving men in case additional support was needed.
I began gathering my insects within the castle, and the faint sound of buzzing could be heard from outside. But now wasn't the time to use them. I needed Tywin to send more soldiers first.
The battle would take place on flat terrain, thankfully, and I could barely sense the front of their camp. My range couldn't reach inside the tents, but I could feel enough.
My four thousand men advanced, ready to fight to the death against the people who had burned their lands, or the lands of their allies. The bloodlust could be easily felt even from here, with shouts demanding vengeance.
Finally, the clash began, Lannister soldiers pushing against my men. With the first blood, everything started advancing faster.
Using my insects discreetly, I started pumping my soldiers with stimulants, giving them an edge against the Lannisters.
"Send the first volley!" I shouted. "Make the Lannisters pay for their sins!"
As my commanders began to relay the orders, the rest of us started moving. Thankfully, I could multitask enough to take care of my commanders while fighting an army.
Advancing slowly, I took Ice from its scarab, hoping that when Tywin saw us advancing, he would send a larger force, if not all of them.
I injected all of us with my usual stimulants. My vision became sharper, and my breathing steadied, making it easier to maintain my pace for some hours. My brain received the needed oxygen, which would keep me alert even if my body was tired. I could feel my body trembling with anticipation, and observing my commanders, I saw the same feral smiles on their faces.
The Lannisters wouldn't expect what was coming.
Kevan Lannister
Lannister camp.
"It seems they are ready to start," I murmured, putting the Myrish glass on the table.
"It appears so," Tywin replied, a frown on his face. "But why does he have such a small army?"
"What did the scouts say about Edmure?" asked the Strongboar, also frowning.
"According to our reports, he was seen leaving for Mummer's Ford with over twenty thousand soldiers," said Lord Marbrand.
"I don't like this," I murmured. "Do you see his command? There are only green kids ordering the army."
"Aye," grunted the Strongboar. "The Riverlords followed Edmure. I just don't understand why they trust him so much when he doesn't have any victories under his name."
I shook my head. The battle was just starting, and I was already getting bad feelings about this.
"What do you want us to do, Lord Tywin?" asked Lord Marbrand, looking at the four thousand soldiers advancing.
I don't know if Robb was plain inexperienced or stupid to think he could win with less than half of our army, being led by one of the most dangerous men in Westeros.
"Send five thousand infantry," replied my brother, his face set in a firm line. "Let's see how he responds."
"You heard your lord, get to it!" I shouted, and Emmon Frey ran out of the tent to carry the orders.
Since the news of his family's death, he had been praying to spill more northern blood than the rest. It's a shame he would die before approaching the newly crowned king. As good a fighter as he thought he was, I was sure he wouldn't be capable of approaching the enemy line and damaging Robb in any way.
"What do you think, brother?" I asked Tywin, who was silently calculating with cold eyes.
"He's hiding something, I'm sure of it," he replied. "There's no way he believes he can defeat us with such a small force."
"Could he be just a distraction while the rest of his army fights Jaime?" I asked. "I don't see the Blackfish with him, and as we know, he's missing a lot of men he should have."
"Our scouts would have seen them," Tywin shook his head.
"They know the land better than us, Tywin," I reminded him. "It's possible they used some hidden way to reach Edmure's army without our knowledge."
Tywin exhaled softly. "Ser Marbrand, take ten thousand soldiers and march toward his infantry. If he's just a distraction, he'll retreat to the castle against such a force."
I nodded—it was a good plan. If he had truly sent most of his army against my nephew, there was no way he could hope to defeat us. Seeing all these brave men running toward him would make him retreat.
"Aye," nodded Ser Marbrand. "I'll take some cavalry to disrupt their first line of defense."
"See that you do so," nodded Tywin.
Taking back the Myrish glass, I pointed it toward the entrance of the castle and gasped in surprise.
"Brother, look at that," I said urgently, handing him the glass.
"He's not retreating. In fact, he's advancing with all his forces," I said quickly as Tywin snatched the glass from my hand.
"I don't understand what he's doing," I continued.
Tywin was using the glass to observe them, and I grabbed the one Ser Marbrand left in his seat.
"He's truly a great warrior," I whistled, watching Robb cut through soldiers like he was the Warrior incarnate.
"He's way too strong for his age," replied Tywin softly, with a tinge of respect.
"He's better than Jaime was at his age, brother," I murmured. "There's no way in the seven hells he should be that good at four and ten name days."
"Five and ten," Tywin murmured back.
"It doesn't matter, brother. He shouldn't be that good," I replied heatedly. "Just look at him!"
Tywin stayed silent, and I observed the rest of the commanders in the tent, all watching the scene with varying levels of awe.
"My lord, let me ride," said Gregor Clegane.
"No," snapped Tywin. "You will not fight right now. Your time will come."
I placed the Myrish glass back on the table and rubbed my eyes. When I looked again, I still couldn't believe what I was seeing.
"How are the rest of his fighters so fierce?" I asked aloud.
Tywin began pacing in the tent. "How the fuck are our men losing?" he demanded, his voice tight with anger. "If he doesn't retreat when Ser Marbrand approaches, we'll attack with everything we've got. We cannot allow him to live, he is a great danger to my grandson."
Ser Marbrand was already advancing with the ten thousand soldiers, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The northern army was stronger than we had anticipated, and the one who surprised me the most was Robb Stark. Watching him cut through Lannister's men like a hot knife through butter, never pausing as he continued his relentless advance—it was almost unreal.
"Ser Marbrand is approaching," said the Strongboar, now standing, unable to sit still. He hadn't been much help in battle since the Blackfish cut off his arm, but his insight remained valuable.
"Let's see what the Young Wolf does," I replied, bringing the glass back to my eyes and focusing on the young wolf.
As we watched Ser Marbrand approach Robb, I noticed something unsettling—a smile spread across Robb's face. I wondered what he had planned since he showed no fear of the approaching force.
"He has something planned," Tywin murmured, frowning.
"Aye," I replied, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down my brow. The closer Ser Marbrand got, the more uneasy I felt.
"Fuck!" I shouted. There were hidden pits in the ground, likely uncovered by the weight of the cavalry, and at least forty percent of the horses fell into them. The northern soldiers wasted no time exploiting the chaos.
I couldn't fathom when Robb had managed to prepare these traps, but now wasn't the time for questions. Through the Myrish glass, I watched as Robb Stark decapitated Ser Marbrand with a single blow.
"What are we going to do?" I asked Tywin. "We either commit fully to the battle or order a retreat. We'll lose too many soldiers if we don't act now."
Tywin shook his head in anger, his whole body trembling. "He's making a fool out of me. This cannot stand. Send in the rest of the army—we're going to fight."
Nodding in grim acceptance, I began relaying orders to the soldiers and commanders. "Move! We need to save our men from Robb Stark's hands."
"Are you sure this is the best course of action?" I asked my brother.
"No," he murmured, "but we have no choice. If we lose fifteen thousand men here, we won't be able to face the Starks again."
"Even if we manage to retreat to Jaime's host, we'll be at a disadvantage with half our numbers," he continued.
Nodding in defeat, I prepared to follow my brother's decision. It was my duty, and I would not fail my family.
"Is it time?" asked Gregor Clegane, a feral smile spreading across his face.
"Yes, Ser Gregor, bring me his head," Tywin replied.
The horns of war blared, signaling our march. Every soldier in the camp knew what it meant—we were going to face Robb's army head-on. There was no other option left. We had to commit if we wanted to save our men.
"I want his head on a spike!" Tywin shouted, standing tall. "Today, we defeat the pretender and bring peace to the realm."
"Watch out for the pits in the ground!" I called. "It's possible the cavalry didn't uncover them all."
This battle was going to be worse than I had imagined. I hadn't expected Robb to be this cunning or be such a skilled swordsman. I hadn't lied when I said he was better than Jaime at this age. Jaime, who had joined the Kingsguard in his youth, wasn't even close to being this formidable at five and ten.
I didn't know what they were feeding the people in the North, but almost all of Robb's commanders were going toe-to-toe with our more experienced soldiers, despite their youth.
"This is a trap," I said softly to Tywin. "And we're walking straight into it."
"We have no choice," he replied grimly. "I just hope we can overwhelm him with our superior numbers."
"When we manage to take our men back, we will retreat to Jaime," he said firmly.
Galloping on my horse, I observed the battlefield. We were fast approaching Robb's army, and I noticed something was wrong.
"Why is it getting darker?" I asked out loud. "What is that sound, for that matter?"
It was then that I started hearing the screams of fright in our lines. Looking up, I almost fainted.
The sun was covered with thick clouds of something, and the sound was all-encompassing.
"What the fuck is that?" the men shouted.
I didn't have the faintest idea of what was going on, but I didn't like it, not one bit.
"What do we do, brother?" I asked Tywin. "This is not a natural occurrence."
Tywin was dumbstruck, looking at the sky with a perplexed face.
"What did the scouts say about Robb's siege of the Twins?" asked the Strongboar, riding at my side. Even with only one arm, he was prepared to give his life for the Lannisters.
It suddenly struck me—the scouts had said something about the sky going dark during his siege at the Freys' ancestral home.
Robb Stark.
Riverrun.
It was time. The Lannisters needed to attack en masse if they hoped to save their men. With that in mind, I ordered my insects to make their first appearance in a public fight.
After I cut Ser Marbrand's head off, I could see the rest of the Lannister army moving. With that in mind, I prepared my wildfire insects to be ready. I couldn't risk my men with the fire, so I ordered a brief retreat.
"Retreat one mile!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.
Thankfully, everyone followed the order and started retreating.
I could see with my senses that every one of my commanders survived since I was taking care of them with my insects, just in case something happened.
Dacey had a close call when one Lannister soldier managed to get close to her back without anyone seeing, but I was able to incapacitate him before he could harm her.
Besides that, the rest of my commanders had fought bravely, and I couldn't be more proud of them.
"You listen to your king!" shouted Jon, with the rest of my commanders relaying the order.
"It's almost time," I told them as we ran away. "When the wildfire spreads along the battlefield, the Blackfish will know it's the moment to attack," I said grimly. "Be ready to go back and defeat this army."
Everyone nodded in understanding, trying to calm their erratic hearts.
As the Lannister army approached us, I waited for the moment to act. I needed to cut their army in half, or at least do what I could manage.
I ordered my insects to cover the sun, just as I did at the Twins. This was mostly to instill fear in the hearts of my enemies but also to cut their visibility of the terrain.
"Get ready," I shouted. "It's almost time."
Using my senses to check my army, I nodded in satisfaction, seeing everyone gripping their weapons and shouting to raise morale. We had managed to defeat a big part of Tywin's army during the brief skirmish, and right now, everyone was excited to be able to defeat one of the most feared men in Westeros.
Seeing that some of the cavalry fell into new holes, I thought it was the moment to strike.
Ordering my insects, I set the field ablaze, and with it, I sent the signal to the Blackfish that it was time to appear at the rear of the army.
"For the North and the Riverlands!" I shouted. "Earn your honor, bring the Lannisters down!"
With my shout, I signaled my people to begin their attack. The Lannister army was confused and scared by what was happening on the field, and I couldn't fault them. I would be, too, if I were in their place.
Thankfully, my men were ready and knew the plan beforehand.
"Charge!" shouted Rickard Karstark. "Bring honor to the Starks!"
"For the King in the North!" shouted Smalljon with a loud laugh.
"Destroy the Lannisters!"
Smiling, I charged toward the soldiers in front of me and started cutting down everyone I could. I would have my breakdown later—right now wasn't the time to think about the people I killed and the people who died for my cause.
I just hoped this would be worth it, and that I was doing the right thing.
"Remember your orders!" I shouted. "Do not become the animals the Lannisters are!"
Seeing the edge of my range, I smiled, spotting the Blackfish with his ten thousand men attacking from the rear, and hearing the panicked shouts from the army.
Advancing slowly but surely, we defeated every soldier that came across us, using a combination of insects, weapons, and horses to gain an advantage against the Lannisters.
Seeing something that surprised me, I called my guard. "Follow me, there's a pest that needs to go down."
My commanders, hearing my order, followed me with zeal, and together we advanced toward the soldier who had been killing our men.
"Today, we will bring down the Mountain!" I shouted. "We won't fight with honor against such a beast—he doesn't deserve it," I said seriously.
Everyone nodded in understanding, and we approached our prey.
Shadow was behind us, his fur coated in blood, with even more blood dripping from his fangs. He was truly a killing machine, and I couldn't be more proud of my familiar.
"I want him alive," I said. "He will be useful as a bargaining chip with Dorne."
I used my insects to inject him with multiple different poisons—not lethal, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt like a bitch.
Smiling, hearing his screams, we started raining blows against him with blunted weapons.
Seeing him crying brought a smile to my face. "Take him back to the castle," I ordered, and Torrhen Karstark nodded, starting to tie him up to his horse, along with his eldest brother.
"I made sure to inject him with milk of the poppy, but make sure the maester keeps him alive," I smiled. "It's time to finish this battle."
While I wasn't watching, the Blackfish broke through the Lannister line and was just finishing his battle against Tywin. The Strongboar lay dead at his side, and Kevan was nursing his ribs from a particularly rough fall after a soldier dismounted him.
"Drop your weapons!" I shouted with all my might. "There's no need for more bloodshed."
The rest of my army started circling the remaining Lannister men, and they could see they were finished.
There was no way they could defeat us, so one by one, they started dropping their weapons.
Smiling, I watched as Jon and the rest of my friends celebrated the victory with the group. Even my great-uncle had a small smile while he manhandled Tywin and his brother to secure them.
"This is a victory for all of us!" I shouted. "The feared Tywin Lannister, brought to his knees by the very men of the lands he burned!"
"You have brought honor to the Riverlands, and it is time we start taking our land back from the invaders!"
"King in the North!"
"The Riverlands!"
"King Robb Stark!"
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Robb Stark
Two days later.
Providing cover to my great-uncle and ten thousand men was easy, thanks to my insects. We moved when the sun set two days ago, and no one was the wiser. With everything going on around Westeros, it was easy to do so.
Everyone had a lot on their minds. Even those who didn't care who sat on the Iron Throne were paying attention to what would become a turning point in this war. With the news from Griffin's Roost and Stannis' defeat at the hands of the Golden Company, the smallfolk wondered who would be the eventual winner, and most of them hoped for someone better than the last three kings.
It wouldn't even be that hard, since the predecessors were the Mad King, Robert, who left the realm in debt and filled with problems, and his "son," whose legitimacy was still in question. People were already leaving King's Landing in the wake of Joffrey's rule. The capital of the Seven Kingdoms was already in a bad spot, with food scarce and Joffrey's tyranny growing worse by the day.
Worst of all, they were surrounded by enemy forces, even if not directly. Their support was stopped in the Riverlands by House Tully, and now they needed to get past my superior army if they wanted to reach the capital. Renly was amassing his forces in Highgarden with the numerically superior army of the Reach. Stannis, even as weakened as he was, remained a threat with his cunning and superior war mindset. The Golden Company was near them, though they still had to fight through a couple of keeps in their way.
With my great-uncle's battalion already waiting for the conflict, we just needed to sell the scouts the information that Uncle Edmure was leading the biggest part of our combined army against Jaime's. He and multiple lords of the Riverlands would lead the attack, followed by Sylvyrn and his people to add an extra oomph. The Green Men's magic, while not army-destroying, could change the tide of a battle in a heartbeat. With over twenty wargs working as scouts, they could find out enemy movements even better than I could, since their range was greater.
Every time a new weirwood was planted in our path, the power of the Old Gods increased, and so did the Green Men's magic. They were powerful wargs, and their healing abilities were some of the most potent I've seen in both lives, capable of healing someone on the verge of death. But that wasn't all; the most impactful thing they could do was change the terrain and environment when they had sufficient prep time.
They couldn't do something like the Children of the Forest did to destroy the Arm of Dorne, and even if the Old Gods returned to their full power, I doubted Sylvyrn and the rest would reach that level. However, they could control nature to some extent: making it rain, softening the land, creating pitfalls without burrowing in the dirt, summoning mist, and things like that.
Seeing what they were capable of scared me the most because if they could do things like that, I couldn't even imagine what more evil sorcerers were capable of. I had no idea what Euron was doing at the moment, nor Melisandre, for that matter. They were the biggest threats I had in the present since I didn't know much about them, and I was sure the show knowledge I had was completely wrong.
They needed to disappear as soon as I could manage it, for my peace of mind.
Shaking my head, I finished my morning rituals before checking the breeding pit I had in Riverrun. Thanks to my grandfather, I was gifted a large piece of land just outside the castle, and Sylvyrn and Elyndra were tasked with building a subterranean room for my insects. The important people in Riverrun knew about my powers, as I had explained them in the war council, but the rest of the inhabitants hadn't seen me in action. This was done mostly because we still didn't know if there were spies in the castle. I didn't have time to focus on that at the moment, and I knew the lords were batshit scared of what I had shown them, so they wouldn't be the ones to leak information.
But just in case, I didn't give them all the details. They didn't know my range limit, nor the extent of my creations.
Nodding in satisfaction, I observed millions upon millions of insects working on different tasks, from breeding to increase my numbers, to producing products that could be useful in the future. From chitin to make armor—better than the natural chitin thanks to my modifications. It was denser and thicker than normal chitin but didn't become much heavier. It was particularly effective against slashing and blunt weapons but weak against piercing weapons like arrows. That's why the first thing I needed to defeat were the archers in the approaching battle. Besides the chitin, I had asked my grandfather to get me as many containers as he could manage, which would be used to store various kinds of venom for the arrows. Those would only be used in the opening salvo, as they could be deadly for both sides.
I knew my request to leave some soldiers alive was not well received, but even with that order, I could only imagine the kind of bloodbath the Riverlands would become in the future.
Taking a deep breath, I left my room and headed to the courtyard, where Uncle Edmure was already waiting for me to leave. We would do this in the light of day since we needed Tywin to see it. Hopefully, he would buy it.
Arriving at the courtyard, I nodded to everyone I could recognize. Finally approaching my uncle, I cleared my throat to get his attention.
"Are you ready for this, Uncle?" I asked though I knew it wasn't necessary. He had his game face on.
I had learned that if this was the book universe, or at least a crossover between both, the series completely butchered Edmure Tully's character. He was rigid, a damn good commander, and just. He treated the smallfolk as they deserved, even inviting them inside Riverrun during this conflict to give them food and a safe place.
"I am ready, nephew." He gave me a brief smile. "Is there anything you want to tell me before my departure?" he asked.
"Aye, as I said in the war council, Sylvyrn and the rest of the Green Men will follow your lead," I said seriously. "I hope you understand the value they represent. I'm sure you've heard tales of their might—use them cautiously. Sylvyrn will give you some options for what they can do to your advantage, besides warging to scout great distances."
"Aye, I think everyone in the Riverlands has at least heard how they repelled the Andals during their first invasion. According to the legend, that's why they're the only ones who pray to the Old Gods in the South," he replied with a firm nod. "Do not worry, nephew. We will be victorious."
"I trust you," I smiled lightly. "When we finish the battle against Tywin, we will march to support you."
"Understood. Do you know for sure when you'll attack?" he asked. "It's a shame I'll miss it. I'd pay a king's ransom to see his face when you use that little trick of yours."
"Ha! I get happy just imagining it," laughed Karyl Vance, who would go along with Edmure against Jaime. In these days he warmed up to me, understanding that the killings of the twins were necessary and that I didn't do it just to be cruel.
"I'm sure when you all come back, the jesters and bards will have multiple songs about it," I laughed. "You'll probably see him sitting in the cells."
"I'll be sure to pay him a visit," nodded the new Lord Vance seriously. "The bastard ordered the death of my father at the Golden Tooth," he said through gritted teeth.
"As long as you can control yourself," I replied with a mild glare. "He's more useful alive."
He glared back but subsided when Edmure hit him in the back of the head. "I'll make sure he knows how to act toward our prisoners," Edmure said mildly, his face understanding.
"I know it's hard to leave them alive after what they've done," I replied, shaking my head calmly. "I know, believe me, I know. But you must understand that this is just the beginning. We need every advantage we can get."
With that said, I bid farewell to my uncle and the lords accompanying him. It would take a few days for them to reach Mummer's Ford, so there was a slim, really slim chance that we could arrive to support them before their battle was over. Most battles took weeks to conclude, but the one we'd have with Tywin was an exception, as it would be all or nothing.
I couldn't deny that I was nervous about it, but I also felt excitement. This would be my first major battle, and I needed it to be perfect.
For now, I just needed to prepare my swarm and the terrain. One thing my grandfather asked me after the war council struck a chord. There were insects capable of destabilizing the terrain, making burrows underneath, so I would focus on that before the battle.
I would leave a thin film of dirt on top of the holes, using my insects to support it so that it didnt feel or be seen differently. I couldnt show my hand before the Lannister army committed to the attack, I needed to wait for the perfect moment.
Two days later.
Robb Stark.
Everything was ready. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, and the seven thousand men behind me were ready to commit violence against Tywin and his ilk. Jon and the rest of the heirs were at my side, waiting for orders, prepared to delegate them to the troops. I didn't want to risk them at the beginning of the fight, as it would be the most chaotic part.
I had four thousand infantry, and one thousand cavalry, and the rest were archers. The archers already had venoms to coat their arrows. Everything was ready, and everyone waited for my orders to begin.
Tywin Lannister had gathered his forces, as our scouts reported after hearing movement in the gates. His twenty-five thousand men were ready, waiting for me to make the first move. The Lannister banners flew proudly, and I couldn't help but feel nervous seeing the many people who wanted me dead. It was one thing to know about them to see them in person.
It was different fighting from the shadows, as I had done before; there was no way to compare the two types of conflict.
"Remember the plan," I said with a stoic face. "We need them to advance if we want them to fall into my traps."
Jon and the rest nodded resolutely, grim faces all around. Some were exhilarated to be part of a great battle against one of the most famed lords in the realm, while others—the more sensible ones, in my opinion—were nervous but would do what was asked of them in the name of their king.
"Remember not to advance beyond the range of the arrows," shouted Jon, having understood most of my plan.
There were holes in the ground capped by a thin layer of dirt. My insects had worked hard to make this happen before the battle, and while I hadn't been able to do as much as I wanted, there were more than enough to cause disarray in their army.
"May the Old Gods take care of us," murmured Dacey, nervous but with a feral smile on her face.
"Aye," grunted Smalljon, gripping his battle axe hard until his knuckles turned white.
I nodded and said a small prayer for the battle. I knew the Old Gods were watching, and while I didn't know if they would do anything, it wouldn't hurt to ask.
"Give the signal," I shouted.
War horns began to sound in the castle, and the infantry started advancing.
As my men moved forward, slowly but surely, I observed the Lannister army doing the same. Both sides had sent only part of their forces, saving men in case additional support was needed.
I began gathering my insects within the castle, and the faint sound of buzzing could be heard from outside. But now wasn't the time to use them. I needed Tywin to send more soldiers first.
The battle would take place on flat terrain, thankfully, and I could barely sense the front of their camp. My range couldn't reach inside the tents, but I could feel enough.
My four thousand men advanced, ready to fight to the death against the people who had burned their lands, or the lands of their allies. The bloodlust could be easily felt even from here, with shouts demanding vengeance.
Finally, the clash began, Lannister soldiers pushing against my men. With the first blood, everything started advancing faster.
Using my insects discreetly, I started pumping my soldiers with stimulants, giving them an edge against the Lannisters.
"Send the first volley!" I shouted. "Make the Lannisters pay for their sins!"
As my commanders began to relay the orders, the rest of us started moving. Thankfully, I could multitask enough to take care of my commanders while fighting an army.
Advancing slowly, I took Ice from its scarab, hoping that when Tywin saw us advancing, he would send a larger force, if not all of them.
I injected all of us with my usual stimulants. My vision became sharper, and my breathing steadied, making it easier to maintain my pace for some hours. My brain received the needed oxygen, which would keep me alert even if my body was tired. I could feel my body trembling with anticipation, and observing my commanders, I saw the same feral smiles on their faces.
The Lannisters wouldn't expect what was coming.
Kevan Lannister
Lannister camp.
"It seems they are ready to start," I murmured, putting the Myrish glass on the table.
"It appears so," Tywin replied, a frown on his face. "But why does he have such a small army?"
"What did the scouts say about Edmure?" asked the Strongboar, also frowning.
"According to our reports, he was seen leaving for Mummer's Ford with over twenty thousand soldiers," said Lord Marbrand.
"I don't like this," I murmured. "Do you see his command? There are only green kids ordering the army."
"Aye," grunted the Strongboar. "The Riverlords followed Edmure. I just don't understand why they trust him so much when he doesn't have any victories under his name."
I shook my head. The battle was just starting, and I was already getting bad feelings about this.
"What do you want us to do, Lord Tywin?" asked Lord Marbrand, looking at the four thousand soldiers advancing.
I don't know if Robb was plain inexperienced or stupid to think he could win with less than half of our army, being led by one of the most dangerous men in Westeros.
"Send five thousand infantry," replied my brother, his face set in a firm line. "Let's see how he responds."
"You heard your lord, get to it!" I shouted, and Emmon Frey ran out of the tent to carry the orders.
Since the news of his family's death, he had been praying to spill more northern blood than the rest. It's a shame he would die before approaching the newly crowned king. As good a fighter as he thought he was, I was sure he wouldn't be capable of approaching the enemy line and damaging Robb in any way.
"What do you think, brother?" I asked Tywin, who was silently calculating with cold eyes.
"He's hiding something, I'm sure of it," he replied. "There's no way he believes he can defeat us with such a small force."
"Could he be just a distraction while the rest of his army fights Jaime?" I asked. "I don't see the Blackfish with him, and as we know, he's missing a lot of men he should have."
"Our scouts would have seen them," Tywin shook his head.
"They know the land better than us, Tywin," I reminded him. "It's possible they used some hidden way to reach Edmure's army without our knowledge."
Tywin exhaled softly. "Ser Marbrand, take ten thousand soldiers and march toward his infantry. If he's just a distraction, he'll retreat to the castle against such a force."
I nodded—it was a good plan. If he had truly sent most of his army against my nephew, there was no way he could hope to defeat us. Seeing all these brave men running toward him would make him retreat.
"Aye," nodded Ser Marbrand. "I'll take some cavalry to disrupt their first line of defense."
"See that you do so," nodded Tywin.
Taking back the Myrish glass, I pointed it toward the entrance of the castle and gasped in surprise.
"Brother, look at that," I said urgently, handing him the glass.
"He's not retreating. In fact, he's advancing with all his forces," I said quickly as Tywin snatched the glass from my hand.
"I don't understand what he's doing," I continued.
Tywin was using the glass to observe them, and I grabbed the one Ser Marbrand left in his seat.
"He's truly a great warrior," I whistled, watching Robb cut through soldiers like he was the Warrior incarnate.
"He's way too strong for his age," replied Tywin softly, with a tinge of respect.
"He's better than Jaime was at his age, brother," I murmured. "There's no way in the seven hells he should be that good at four and ten name days."
"Five and ten," Tywin murmured back.
"It doesn't matter, brother. He shouldn't be that good," I replied heatedly. "Just look at him!"
Tywin stayed silent, and I observed the rest of the commanders in the tent, all watching the scene with varying levels of awe.
"My lord, let me ride," said Gregor Clegane.
"No," snapped Tywin. "You will not fight right now. Your time will come."
I placed the Myrish glass back on the table and rubbed my eyes. When I looked again, I still couldn't believe what I was seeing.
"How are the rest of his fighters so fierce?" I asked aloud.
Tywin began pacing in the tent. "How the fuck are our men losing?" he demanded, his voice tight with anger. "If he doesn't retreat when Ser Marbrand approaches, we'll attack with everything we've got. We cannot allow him to live, he is a great danger to my grandson."
Ser Marbrand was already advancing with the ten thousand soldiers, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The northern army was stronger than we had anticipated, and the one who surprised me the most was Robb Stark. Watching him cut through Lannister's men like a hot knife through butter, never pausing as he continued his relentless advance—it was almost unreal.
"Ser Marbrand is approaching," said the Strongboar, now standing, unable to sit still. He hadn't been much help in battle since the Blackfish cut off his arm, but his insight remained valuable.
"Let's see what the Young Wolf does," I replied, bringing the glass back to my eyes and focusing on the young wolf.
As we watched Ser Marbrand approach Robb, I noticed something unsettling—a smile spread across Robb's face. I wondered what he had planned since he showed no fear of the approaching force.
"He has something planned," Tywin murmured, frowning.
"Aye," I replied, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down my brow. The closer Ser Marbrand got, the more uneasy I felt.
"Fuck!" I shouted. There were hidden pits in the ground, likely uncovered by the weight of the cavalry, and at least forty percent of the horses fell into them. The northern soldiers wasted no time exploiting the chaos.
I couldn't fathom when Robb had managed to prepare these traps, but now wasn't the time for questions. Through the Myrish glass, I watched as Robb Stark decapitated Ser Marbrand with a single blow.
"What are we going to do?" I asked Tywin. "We either commit fully to the battle or order a retreat. We'll lose too many soldiers if we don't act now."
Tywin shook his head in anger, his whole body trembling. "He's making a fool out of me. This cannot stand. Send in the rest of the army—we're going to fight."
Nodding in grim acceptance, I began relaying orders to the soldiers and commanders. "Move! We need to save our men from Robb Stark's hands."
"Are you sure this is the best course of action?" I asked my brother.
"No," he murmured, "but we have no choice. If we lose fifteen thousand men here, we won't be able to face the Starks again."
"Even if we manage to retreat to Jaime's host, we'll be at a disadvantage with half our numbers," he continued.
Nodding in defeat, I prepared to follow my brother's decision. It was my duty, and I would not fail my family.
"Is it time?" asked Gregor Clegane, a feral smile spreading across his face.
"Yes, Ser Gregor, bring me his head," Tywin replied.
The horns of war blared, signaling our march. Every soldier in the camp knew what it meant—we were going to face Robb's army head-on. There was no other option left. We had to commit if we wanted to save our men.
"I want his head on a spike!" Tywin shouted, standing tall. "Today, we defeat the pretender and bring peace to the realm."
"Watch out for the pits in the ground!" I called. "It's possible the cavalry didn't uncover them all."
This battle was going to be worse than I had imagined. I hadn't expected Robb to be this cunning or be such a skilled swordsman. I hadn't lied when I said he was better than Jaime at this age. Jaime, who had joined the Kingsguard in his youth, wasn't even close to being this formidable at five and ten.
I didn't know what they were feeding the people in the North, but almost all of Robb's commanders were going toe-to-toe with our more experienced soldiers, despite their youth.
"This is a trap," I said softly to Tywin. "And we're walking straight into it."
"We have no choice," he replied grimly. "I just hope we can overwhelm him with our superior numbers."
"When we manage to take our men back, we will retreat to Jaime," he said firmly.
Galloping on my horse, I observed the battlefield. We were fast approaching Robb's army, and I noticed something was wrong.
"Why is it getting darker?" I asked out loud. "What is that sound, for that matter?"
It was then that I started hearing the screams of fright in our lines. Looking up, I almost fainted.
The sun was covered with thick clouds of something, and the sound was all-encompassing.
"What the fuck is that?" the men shouted.
I didn't have the faintest idea of what was going on, but I didn't like it, not one bit.
"What do we do, brother?" I asked Tywin. "This is not a natural occurrence."
Tywin was dumbstruck, looking at the sky with a perplexed face.
"What did the scouts say about Robb's siege of the Twins?" asked the Strongboar, riding at my side. Even with only one arm, he was prepared to give his life for the Lannisters.
It suddenly struck me—the scouts had said something about the sky going dark during his siege at the Freys' ancestral home.
Robb Stark.
Riverrun.
It was time. The Lannisters needed to attack en masse if they hoped to save their men. With that in mind, I ordered my insects to make their first appearance in a public fight.
After I cut Ser Marbrand's head off, I could see the rest of the Lannister army moving. With that in mind, I prepared my wildfire insects to be ready. I couldn't risk my men with the fire, so I ordered a brief retreat.
"Retreat one mile!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.
Thankfully, everyone followed the order and started retreating.
I could see with my senses that every one of my commanders survived since I was taking care of them with my insects, just in case something happened.
Dacey had a close call when one Lannister soldier managed to get close to her back without anyone seeing, but I was able to incapacitate him before he could harm her.
Besides that, the rest of my commanders had fought bravely, and I couldn't be more proud of them.
"You listen to your king!" shouted Jon, with the rest of my commanders relaying the order.
"It's almost time," I told them as we ran away. "When the wildfire spreads along the battlefield, the Blackfish will know it's the moment to attack," I said grimly. "Be ready to go back and defeat this army."
Everyone nodded in understanding, trying to calm their erratic hearts.
As the Lannister army approached us, I waited for the moment to act. I needed to cut their army in half, or at least do what I could manage.
I ordered my insects to cover the sun, just as I did at the Twins. This was mostly to instill fear in the hearts of my enemies but also to cut their visibility of the terrain.
"Get ready," I shouted. "It's almost time."
Using my senses to check my army, I nodded in satisfaction, seeing everyone gripping their weapons and shouting to raise morale. We had managed to defeat a big part of Tywin's army during the brief skirmish, and right now, everyone was excited to be able to defeat one of the most feared men in Westeros.
Seeing that some of the cavalry fell into new holes, I thought it was the moment to strike.
Ordering my insects, I set the field ablaze, and with it, I sent the signal to the Blackfish that it was time to appear at the rear of the army.
"For the North and the Riverlands!" I shouted. "Earn your honor, bring the Lannisters down!"
With my shout, I signaled my people to begin their attack. The Lannister army was confused and scared by what was happening on the field, and I couldn't fault them. I would be, too, if I were in their place.
Thankfully, my men were ready and knew the plan beforehand.
"Charge!" shouted Rickard Karstark. "Bring honor to the Starks!"
"For the King in the North!" shouted Smalljon with a loud laugh.
"Destroy the Lannisters!"
Smiling, I charged toward the soldiers in front of me and started cutting down everyone I could. I would have my breakdown later—right now wasn't the time to think about the people I killed and the people who died for my cause.
I just hoped this would be worth it, and that I was doing the right thing.
"Remember your orders!" I shouted. "Do not become the animals the Lannisters are!"
Seeing the edge of my range, I smiled, spotting the Blackfish with his ten thousand men attacking from the rear, and hearing the panicked shouts from the army.
Advancing slowly but surely, we defeated every soldier that came across us, using a combination of insects, weapons, and horses to gain an advantage against the Lannisters.
Seeing something that surprised me, I called my guard. "Follow me, there's a pest that needs to go down."
My commanders, hearing my order, followed me with zeal, and together we advanced toward the soldier who had been killing our men.
"Today, we will bring down the Mountain!" I shouted. "We won't fight with honor against such a beast—he doesn't deserve it," I said seriously.
Everyone nodded in understanding, and we approached our prey.
Shadow was behind us, his fur coated in blood, with even more blood dripping from his fangs. He was truly a killing machine, and I couldn't be more proud of my familiar.
"I want him alive," I said. "He will be useful as a bargaining chip with Dorne."
I used my insects to inject him with multiple different poisons—not lethal, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt like a bitch.
Smiling, hearing his screams, we started raining blows against him with blunted weapons.
Seeing him crying brought a smile to my face. "Take him back to the castle," I ordered, and Torrhen Karstark nodded, starting to tie him up to his horse, along with his eldest brother.
"I made sure to inject him with milk of the poppy, but make sure the maester keeps him alive," I smiled. "It's time to finish this battle."
While I wasn't watching, the Blackfish broke through the Lannister line and was just finishing his battle against Tywin. The Strongboar lay dead at his side, and Kevan was nursing his ribs from a particularly rough fall after a soldier dismounted him.
"Drop your weapons!" I shouted with all my might. "There's no need for more bloodshed."
The rest of my army started circling the remaining Lannister men, and they could see they were finished.
There was no way they could defeat us, so one by one, they started dropping their weapons.
Smiling, I watched as Jon and the rest of my friends celebrated the victory with the group. Even my great-uncle had a small smile while he manhandled Tywin and his brother to secure them.
"This is a victory for all of us!" I shouted. "The feared Tywin Lannister, brought to his knees by the very men of the lands he burned!"
"You have brought honor to the Riverlands, and it is time we start taking our land back from the invaders!"
"King in the North!"
"The Riverlands!"
"King Robb Stark!"
If you want to support me or read up to 25k words ahead, you can find me on patr*e on . co m (slash) Infinityreads99
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Shaedy Hoe
Thicc Shaedy
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Thanks for the update. Also... you kept calling the Green Men 'wargs' when what they are is 'skinchangers'. Wargs are a specific group of skinchangers that control wolves/direwolves like the Starks. Like, how in Avatar, some (not all) waterbenders can also bloodbend or how some earthbenders are lavabenders.
Chapter 60: Aftermath and Edmure.
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InfinityReads999
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Riverrun.
Robb Stark.
"What are our losses?" I asked Torrhen Karstark, who had finished tallying our forces and the newly acquired prisoners.
"It was a resounding victory, Your Grace," he replied with a wide smile, before frowning. "But even so, we suffered losses… Over five hundred dead, and a thousand injured."
"What kind of injuries, Torrhen?" I asked.
"Of the thousand injured, six hundred won't be able to continue with our war effort," he shook his head. "At least not without the help of Lord Sylvyrn and his people."
I nodded with a deep frown on my face. War was a costly effort, and it hurt me knowing so many of my people died, even if they did so for a good cause. I quietly observed the battlefield from the top of the castle, the bodies littering the expanse, and I felt bile rise in my throat. I was the one who caused most of the deaths, and that sickened me.
But I couldn't waste time with my angst; I had two kingdoms to take care of and a bunch of enemies surrounding me. I didn't know much about the moves the rest of the kings were making, and I needed to be in top shape for that.
"What about our prisoners?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. I had been using my swarm to make sure nothing dishonorable was happening on the grounds since I knew tensions were high. But thankfully, I didn't need to intervene, at least for now. Since the army here consisted mostly of Northerners, they weren't as angry as the Riverlanders.
"They are behaving themselves," Torrhen snorted. "I'm not sure if it's because of the guards or the damn insects buzzing around them."
I huffed. "I need to make sure everyone knows what would happen. I'm doing it for all our sakes."
"If they are to fight alongside us in the future, they need to know I'm not a bad king," I shook my head. "There are more important things for us than some bloodthirsty Riverlanders."
"Aye," he replied. "I understand, Robb. But there will be a moment when you won't be able to stop them. The Riverlands have been burning for weeks; there's no way to control them all."
"I know that," I snapped. "But that doesn't mean I won't try to stop it."
Sighing, I turned my back to him, once again looking at the battlefield. Thankfully, the fires had been controlled, so I didn't need to worry about that, but I still needed to go down there and pick out the important corpses before burning the rest.
I knew it was customary in Westeros to retrieve the bodies of the defeated, but I would only do so for the lords and knights.
I didn't know what my next moves would be at the moment, so I needed to consult the council after we dealt with the Lannisters here. For now, we would rest before marching tomorrow to help Edmure. I wouldn't take the whole army, as we needed to protect the capital.
"What about the Lannisters?" I asked Torrhen. "What have they been doing?"
Torrhen snorted. "Nothing at all, as far as Tywin is concerned. He knows he's too important to harm, so he's been relaxing in his cell."
I shook my head. To be honest, I was impressed with him. He had lost completely, and he had seen my power in action. I would bet my kingdom he was already coming up with countermeasures, and if he couldn't, he was surely thinking of ways to save his family.
He deserved my respect, even if he was a complete ass. I knew the most important thing to him was his family; his own life wasn't worth much compared to that.
"And Kevan?" I asked.
"He's been more vocal," Torrhen shook his head. "But, as I said, they're behaving."
"Bring Kevan to me," I ordered. "There are some things I want to discuss."
"At once, Your Grace," Torrhen nodded, and with a shallow bow, he left my side.
As soon as he left, the next guard took his place, and I shook my head. My friends—best friends, really—were very protective of me. Even though I kept saying nothing would happen to me without me finding out beforehand, all of them rebuked me, their king, insisting I couldn't stay alone for even a minute. I didn't know where they got the gall to say something like that to me, but I couldn't deny it felt good to have such loyal friends, even if it pissed me off sometimes.
"How are you doing, Dacey?" I asked with a smile. She had been such a wonderful friend during this war, giving it her hundred and twenty percent in everything she did.
Before saying anything, she walked next to me and gave me such a tight hug that I felt my ribs crack. "Thank you for saving me, Robb," she smiled. "I didn't see that bastard sneaking behind me. I truly thought I was dead for a moment."
Returning the hug with equal force, I patted her head. Even though she was older than me, she saw me as a dependable big brother. "You know I would never let anything happen to any of you in my sight, Dacey. Before being my guards, you are my friends—my family."
I felt her shaking a bit, probably remembering the Lannister soldier brandishing his sword at her, and I could see her eyes starting to mist. "I am your king, Dacey. Trust me, I'll do my best to keep you all safe."
"Thank you," she smiled prettily. "Really, thank you, Robb. I don't know how my mother would react if I didn't make it back home."
"But even knowing it would hurt her, I would give my life to keep you safe, Your Grace," she smiled again. "We really need a name for the guard," she frowned before pouting. "I wouldn't like being called a Kingsguard. You're better than the last kings and deserve something more imposing."
"Bah, you can think of one while you're alone, I don't care much about that," I snorted. I didn't see the need to focus on that while we were in the middle of a conflict. For now, I needed to wrap up things here in Riverrun. We captured Tywin's entire army during the battle, but that didn't mean much since we were blind to the situation south of Riverrun. We didn't know if more soldiers were marching to join the main host through the Golden Tooth or anything like that.
That was why I was waiting for Kevan before making more plans. I needed to have a serious talk with him and also have him check the dead before we started disposing of the bodies. If there were any high-ranking persons among the dead, we needed to make sure we did the right thing. As for the rest? Individual burials for our people, and burning the dead from the Westerlands.
As we talked, I saw Kevan being led toward my position by Brynden. My great-uncle had been busy with the aftermath of the battle, and I should have been too, but honestly, I didn't care much. That's the importance of delegating things to trusted people. If I tried to be involved in everything, I was sure I'd end up mad.
My great-uncle had done a wonderful job during the battle. His men cut through the Lannisters and delivered a devastating blow to their morale. Finding out they were outclassed and in the middle of a pincer attack was what broke the camel's back. Besides that, from what I've heard, he was the one who decimated the commanders, having killed the Strongboar in single combat. Even if that wasn't that impressive, thanks to Strongboar's missing arm, he also killed Emmon Frey and defeated Tywin.
They weren't great fighters, but the importance of their names wasn't insignificant. He'd earned a lot of praise, and I could see the bards writing songs or poems about the Blackfish.
Looking toward the door that was opening, I smiled at the new arrivals.
"Congratulations, great-uncle. You've brought justice to the Riverlands," I nodded.
"Justice will be served when these pigs end up dead," he grunted in reply, pushing Kevan inside the room.
I took the moment to inspect the Lannister lord as they entered. He was disheveled, and his attire was in disarray. But what caught my attention was that he wasn't afraid. He hadn't been killed during the battle, and he either thought he was worth more alive, or that my honor, instilled by my family, wouldn't permit me to harm him now that the battle was over.
It wouldn't stop me, of course. If I ever saw the need for him to die, my "honor" would be the last thing I'd think about before cutting off his head. But to be honest, Kevan Lannister deserved to live. He was one of the few people with that last name I respected, and I knew he could be useful in the future.
"Is there a reason our guest is wearing different clothes than before?" I asked with a frown, even though I already knew the answer. I couldn't let them learn more about my abilities than necessary, so I had to keep hiding certain things, like my range.
The Blackfish snorted, "He needed to change his small clothes. I think he had quite a fright during the battle."
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the image. That wasn't something I wanted to picture.
"How have the Riverlands been treating you, Lord Kevan?" I asked him in a mild tone. I wouldn't start this conversation with threats.
"They've been surprisingly polite," he replied just as mildly, watching me like a hawk, trying to see through me.
"It's good that my men follow orders," I smiled, showing my teeth. "Could you imagine what would happen if my men acted the same as the Mountain and Ser Amory Lorch?"
He visibly slumped his shoulders. "No… my lord… I don't want to imagine that."
"Good, good," I replied. "It's better this way. We can avoid so many difficulties when our men listen to orders."
"Now…" I continued, "You know what to expect as my prisoner?"
"Aye," he replied. "I won't make things difficult for your guards, Robb Stark. I don't want to see a repeat of that battlefield."
"I'm sure all your men will be just as tame," I snorted. "But yes, you'll be taken care of, and your men will go north and join the Wall."
"But before we determine your fate, I need you to do a simple task for me," I continued with a calm face, showing that I wasn't going to ask for anything unreasonable. "I need you to follow a retinue of my men and gather the bodies of the important people in your army so we can return their remains."
Kevan opened his mouth to ask something but thought better of it and nodded. "When you return, I'll ask some more questions before you can go back to your cozy little cell, Kevan Lannister. I give you my word if you behave, nothing untoward will happen to you. Make sure you tell your brother that."
"Thank you," he replied firmly, and with as much dignity as he could feign, he walked outside where another guard started leading him to the battlefield along with some soldiers.
"It's been a busy day," I sighed, taking a seat in one of the chairs my men had set up while I was here.
I signaled Dacey and my great-uncle to take a seat as well and uncorked a wine bottle I had on hand, serving three cups for all of us.
"For victory," I deadpanned and raised my cup languidly.
Dacey snorted and downed her cup in one gulp, while the Blackfish sipped his slowly.
"We lost a lot of people," I muttered, feeling a small amount of shame, "but we won in the end."
My great-uncle chuckled, swirling his cup of wine. "People die in a war, who would have thought? But yes, we won, and it was a fine victory under your name, Robb. But never forget, Tywin Lannister is a snake, and I'm sure he's plotting from his cell how he can move next."
"Aye, I know, great uncle… But there's not much we can do to him right now. He's far too valuable to kill, and I cannot lie and say he wouldn't be useful in the fight against the Others," I nodded.
"And I bet he knows that," grunted Dacey, already on her third cup of wine. I was beginning to worry about what she might do. I didn't know what it was like to come so close to death, but I needed to take care of her in any way I could. For now, though, I'd let her drink—maybe that would help her sleep tonight.
"But that doesn't matter much," grunted the Blackfish. "We won, and he's our prisoner. After we're done with Jaime's host, we'll start your campaign for the Iron Throne."
"Oh?" I smiled. "Will you follow me?"
The Blackfish grunted. "It's a moot point, nephew. You brought the Riverlands back to victory after so many defeats. The Riverlords will support you. I will support you."
I just sipped my wine. "I would have done the same even if I needed to fight alone for the throne. The Riverlands are family, and there's no way in the Seven Hells I would leave them burning."
"That's why you're a better pick for the throne, lad." He smiled genuinely. "The past and current kings don't care for the people of the realm, but you do. You helped us, and even if we didn't help you in the future, you wouldn't turn your army against us. That's something they're missing."
"Before you leave, I need to ask something," I continued. "What's the best course of action after defeating Jaime's host?"
"You have some options, but before I tell you, I want to hear your plans. I aim to be a counselor for you, nephew, and I want you to grow as a ruler." The Blackfish shrugged.
"The first thing to do after returning is either to take the Golden Tooth and secure it, or simply arm a strong enough force to keep the Westerlands alienated from King's Landing," I started. "After that, I'd need to march to Harrenhal. Since the castle is close to the Isle of Faces, we can send our wounded there to be treated by the rest of the Green Men. Afterward, we'll take Duskendale to be closer to the capital."
Ser Brynden nodded. "Aye, you're on the right path, nephew. But you forgot something."
Raising my eyebrow, I motioned for him to continue.
"There are multiple participants in this war. You cannot overcommit to some of them while leaving the rest unobserved," he snorted. "The Reach, for all their posh and flimsy loyalty, are supporting Renly, and they have the biggest army in Westeros."
"Aye, I know that, but since their army is so big, they cannot move swiftly. We have time to plan against them," I replied. "But that's beside the point. I'm pretty sure Stannis and Renly will fight before going for the throne. They'll gain the most from that battle, and whoever wins could gain the allegiance of the families supporting the losers."
The Blackfish nodded in acceptance. "Aye, that's true. What about the Targaryen?"
"He has no support besides the Golden Company for now, and the houses still loyal to the Targaryens wouldn't dare act in the open while they're sworn to a king. He'll need time to consolidate the Golden Company under him—time I'll use to infiltrate the Vale," I smirked. "Aunt Lysa has to pay for her crimes, and I'm sure her madness has been spotted by her men. So while my army is settling in Harrenhal and Duskendale, I'll enter the Vale and test the waters. If I can get their support, I'll have three kingdoms under me. I'm sure the Royces, the Waynwoods, and the Corbrays would be happy with my assistance."
"Good," the Blackfish grunted. "I'm happy you have a good head on your shoulders. It'll serve you well in the future."
"What do you think?" I asked him. "Is there anything we could change?"
"Aye…"
The next day
Robb Stark
The castle was bustling with activity. In the courtyard, the small group of Green Men that stayed by my side were working hard to treat the wounded. Having lost over a thousand soldiers for the foreseeable future was something I needed to change, since for now, this was all I had.
I had no way to ally myself with anyone, and my trip to the Vale would take a while. So for now, the five Green Men and multiple maesters were hard at work trying to save as many as they could.
Thankfully, magic and my insects were capable of speeding up the process, but not everything was right.
"How many Lannister men do we have here?" I asked aloud, hoping that some of my commanders knew the answer since I didn't want to waste time counting them myself.
"There are over ten thousand Lannister soldiers in the camp, Robb. This cannot continue. Besides the risk we're taking by keeping them grouped up, we don't have enough food to keep them fed," replied Jon with a frown. "We need to move them as soon as we can, but we can't send them all to the Wall at once. I don't think we can risk arming so many enemies there—the Night's Watch would get overrun."
I frowned deeply at that. Jon was right, and as much as I hated it, I needed to act soon. That meant losing some of my forces before marching, and I also needed to support my uncle Edmure to gain the respect of the lords that followed him.
There were so many things to do and so many places to be, but I couldn't do everything myself.
"Torrhen, I need you to do something for me," I grunted. "Jon is right, we can't allow so many Lannister men to stay here. We risk them doing something foolish, forcing my hand to act, or the Riverlanders taking advantage of them. I need at least half of them gone."
"What do you need, your grace?" he nodded, "I'm pretty sure I know, but I'd prefer for you to tell me."
"You need to make a detour home," I sighed. "I know none of you want to leave my sight, but there are no more trusted men than you."
"Aye," he grunted. "I don't want to leave, but I understand."
"Good," I nodded. "Take ten thousand men with you. I'll speak to the Blackfish later. I want you to do some things for me before going to the Wall. I want you to take the men to Harrenhall. I'll have Grandfather pen a message for Lord Whent. There, you will leave five thousand men, under Ser Brynden."
"After leaving the men there, you will travel north. I want you and the ten thousand men to support the Wall for a while. After that's done, you can come back here. I know it will be a long journey, but I trust you," I continued, looking at him with a smile. While he wasn't the best fighter, he was damn intelligent and loyal to both.
"Understood, your grace. I'll leave at dawn," he nodded, and I could see he was mad because he had to leave my side, but he also understood it was for the best.
"Good," I smiled. "I'm sure you will do a wonderful job. Remember to send me a raven with news from that side of Westeros."
"Now for the rest of us, I will leave the rest of the army here, and we will leave today to help my uncle against Jaime. After we defeat his host, we will march to Duskendale and take the castle. I want to have the three kingdoms on my back; that way we can increase our numbers before battling the rest," I smiled. "Before we leave, is there something we need to talk about?"
"Aye, what of the Mountain?" asked Jon with surprising vitriol, but I somewhat understood where he was coming from. He was raised by my father, and what the Mountain had done during the Sack of King's Landing and this war was atrocious. Jon wanted blood, and I wasn't about to deprive him of that.
"I already thought about that. He will be a gift for Dorne, but you can rough him up a bit before we send him," I replied, looking at him with understanding. "Just be careful. He will wake up soon, and I want him mostly sedated, but awake. Make him feel pain."
"It would be my honor," Jon bowed dramatically, and I snorted. "Anything else?"
There were shakes of their heads in answer, and I stood up, satisfied. "Then get moving, we leave in three hours."
The Riverlands
Edmure Tully
I rode at the head of my host, the banner of House Tully moving along with the wind. Behind me, an honestly impressive gathering of brave men followed me as far as the eye could see—twenty thousand strong, all marching to bring peace back to the Riverlands, to finish the root of everything evil in these lands.
The Lannisters had damaged so much since before they had an in with the throne, since as much as Tywin tried, the Mad King would not give him access. But the old lion was finally capable of grazing the throne thanks to the dumb Robert Baratheon.
I was too young to participate in Robert's Rebellion, but I remember vividly, and I honestly thought he was a bad choice as a king even back then.
Shaking my head, I focused on the problem at hand. Robert, as bad a king as he was, couldn't do any more damage now that he was dead, and he didn't even leave a legitimate heir for the throne if what Ned discovered was the truth. Not that I didn't believe him; the character of my brother-in-law was known in the Seven Kingdoms, and I was sure he wouldn't lie about something this big.
If I knew him as well as I believed, I was pretty sure he was feeling pretty bad about having started this conflict, even if it wasn't his fault. Hopefully, being along with Cat would help him feel better.
Having seen how Robb was raised, I couldn't help but smile. He wasn't even a man by our standards, and he was already named king by his people, even knowing his father was still alive. Being capable of that was something to be proud of.
Smiling at the thought of my nephew sitting on the Iron Throne, I looked at my side, focusing on something else entirely.
The Green Men.
They had appeared just as Robb had sent me on this mission. The mysterious figures, rumored to be older than even the First Men, had pledged themselves to follow me just because my nephew asked. Hearing about him being the champion of the gods he revered was something that I couldn't stomach easily. I was a firm follower of the Seven, and while not as pious as some of the Riverlanders, I was proud of my faith, even when I hadn't seen anything to show of their existence.
But hearing from Robb that he communicated directly with his gods was hard to believe, even with the proof of his gifts.
The Green Men, led by Lord Sylvyrn—who just grunted when he heard someone call him a lord—were cloaked in robes of dark green and brown, their faces hidden behind carved wooden masks. They traveled at my side, silent.
At first, I had been suspicious of them. They were no more than legends, and people even doubted they existed in the first place. What could they offer besides healing in a battle against the likes of Jaime Lannister?
Yet their powers had become evident early during our travels. The land itself seemed to bend to their will. Roads that had been perilous and muddy now firmed underfoot. Streams of water that should have slowed our march flowed in narrower, more manageable paths. Food seemed to last longer than it should, and every night, campfires burned brighter, giving comfort to the soldiers.
I turned my saddle, glancing at Sylvyrn, who was watching me with a smile that unsettled me. He knew I was watching and thinking about him; he always seemed to know things in his surroundings.
Some of my soldiers whispered in fear, others in awe—mostly the men from the North who were following the Green Men under Robb's orders. I wasn't sure what to make of them. Magic wasn't something I put much stock in, but Robb had spoken of them with respect, and the Green Men followed him as the champion of their gods. If my nephew trusted them, so would I.
"Edmure," a voice called from the side. Ser Vance, the newly appointed Lord of his house after his father's death under my uncle, had ridden up beside me.
He was frowning more than usual, which had become his default expression since his father's death, but now there was something else—a hint of concern in his tone. "The men are talking. Some are saying it's unnatural, the way the weather favors us."
I nodded, having already heard the rumors. I couldn't help but feel a surge of irritation. "I've heard the talk. Let them gossip—it's not our concern."
"And yet, it could be," Lord Vance replied, his eyes narrowing. "Superstition can turn a man's heart cold faster than steel. You need to address this before it becomes a problem."
I sighed, glancing back at Sylvyrn, who was watching me with that small, unsettling smile of his—maybe enjoying the fact that I was in a difficult spot. I didn't doubt their loyalty as much as I probably should. They had traveled far from their home to join this war, and they hadn't asked for anything in return. But the whispers of my men were growing louder, and fear had a way of spreading like wildfire.
"I'll speak with them," I said after a moment of thought. "But I won't have my men turning their backs on help when we need every advantage we can get."
Lord Vance grunted. "I hope you can talk some sense into them. I'd hate to see good men falter because of a few ill-timed rumors. Yes, it's unnatural, but they're helping us and don't deserve this treatment from the Riverlanders. I'm beginning to understand why they stayed hidden if this is how we treat them after all they've done."
"Aye," I nodded, and with that, Lord Vance rode back to check on the rear of the formation.
The march, which should have been slow and arduous, had been swift and easy thanks to the Green Men. My men were in good spirits, and we were making better time than I had hoped. Every now and then, I caught sight of one of the Green Men raising a hand or whispering something under their breath, and the world would shift in response—a tree bending aside to clear a path, a gust of wind parting the mist. Unbelievable things happened with just a small gesture.
"Magic," I snorted to myself. "I never thought I'd see the day."
Even with our speed, it would still take time to reach Mummer's Ford. And despite my earlier bravado, I couldn't deny the fear gnawing at my confidence. Jaime was a knight of unparalleled skill, a man with a reputation as golden as his hair. I, on the other hand, had never proven myself in battle. The Riverlords followed me because of my name, not because of any deeds.
I clenched my fists until they turned white. This was my chance—my chance to prove to everyone that I was worthy of leading the Riverlands.
"Lord Edmure," a soft voice called from behind. One of the Green Men, Lady Elyndra, if I remember correctly. Her mask was shaped like a snarling wolf. "We are nearing a place where the earth is old. There is power here. We can use it to hide our approach from the enemy."
I frowned, glancing at her. "What do you mean by that?"
Lady Elyndra tilted her head. "There are places in the world where magic still lingers, where the weirwood roots run deep. We can draw on that power to cloak your men, so Jaime will never see you coming until it's too late."
"Do it," I replied after a moment of hesitation. "Just make sure my men aren't harmed by whatever you do."
Lady Elyndra nodded once. "I would never harm the army of our champion if I can avoid it." With that, she turned and disappeared into the ranks.
If magic could give me the edge I needed against someone of Jaime's caliber, then so be it. My pride wasn't big enough to refuse the help I desperately needed.
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Robb Stark.
"What are our losses?" I asked Torrhen Karstark, who had finished tallying our forces and the newly acquired prisoners.
"It was a resounding victory, Your Grace," he replied with a wide smile, before frowning. "But even so, we suffered losses… Over five hundred dead, and a thousand injured."
"What kind of injuries, Torrhen?" I asked.
"Of the thousand injured, six hundred won't be able to continue with our war effort," he shook his head. "At least not without the help of Lord Sylvyrn and his people."
I nodded with a deep frown on my face. War was a costly effort, and it hurt me knowing so many of my people died, even if they did so for a good cause. I quietly observed the battlefield from the top of the castle, the bodies littering the expanse, and I felt bile rise in my throat. I was the one who caused most of the deaths, and that sickened me.
But I couldn't waste time with my angst; I had two kingdoms to take care of and a bunch of enemies surrounding me. I didn't know much about the moves the rest of the kings were making, and I needed to be in top shape for that.
"What about our prisoners?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. I had been using my swarm to make sure nothing dishonorable was happening on the grounds since I knew tensions were high. But thankfully, I didn't need to intervene, at least for now. Since the army here consisted mostly of Northerners, they weren't as angry as the Riverlanders.
"They are behaving themselves," Torrhen snorted. "I'm not sure if it's because of the guards or the damn insects buzzing around them."
I huffed. "I need to make sure everyone knows what would happen. I'm doing it for all our sakes."
"If they are to fight alongside us in the future, they need to know I'm not a bad king," I shook my head. "There are more important things for us than some bloodthirsty Riverlanders."
"Aye," he replied. "I understand, Robb. But there will be a moment when you won't be able to stop them. The Riverlands have been burning for weeks; there's no way to control them all."
"I know that," I snapped. "But that doesn't mean I won't try to stop it."
Sighing, I turned my back to him, once again looking at the battlefield. Thankfully, the fires had been controlled, so I didn't need to worry about that, but I still needed to go down there and pick out the important corpses before burning the rest.
I knew it was customary in Westeros to retrieve the bodies of the defeated, but I would only do so for the lords and knights.
I didn't know what my next moves would be at the moment, so I needed to consult the council after we dealt with the Lannisters here. For now, we would rest before marching tomorrow to help Edmure. I wouldn't take the whole army, as we needed to protect the capital.
"What about the Lannisters?" I asked Torrhen. "What have they been doing?"
Torrhen snorted. "Nothing at all, as far as Tywin is concerned. He knows he's too important to harm, so he's been relaxing in his cell."
I shook my head. To be honest, I was impressed with him. He had lost completely, and he had seen my power in action. I would bet my kingdom he was already coming up with countermeasures, and if he couldn't, he was surely thinking of ways to save his family.
He deserved my respect, even if he was a complete ass. I knew the most important thing to him was his family; his own life wasn't worth much compared to that.
"And Kevan?" I asked.
"He's been more vocal," Torrhen shook his head. "But, as I said, they're behaving."
"Bring Kevan to me," I ordered. "There are some things I want to discuss."
"At once, Your Grace," Torrhen nodded, and with a shallow bow, he left my side.
As soon as he left, the next guard took his place, and I shook my head. My friends—best friends, really—were very protective of me. Even though I kept saying nothing would happen to me without me finding out beforehand, all of them rebuked me, their king, insisting I couldn't stay alone for even a minute. I didn't know where they got the gall to say something like that to me, but I couldn't deny it felt good to have such loyal friends, even if it pissed me off sometimes.
"How are you doing, Dacey?" I asked with a smile. She had been such a wonderful friend during this war, giving it her hundred and twenty percent in everything she did.
Before saying anything, she walked next to me and gave me such a tight hug that I felt my ribs crack. "Thank you for saving me, Robb," she smiled. "I didn't see that bastard sneaking behind me. I truly thought I was dead for a moment."
Returning the hug with equal force, I patted her head. Even though she was older than me, she saw me as a dependable big brother. "You know I would never let anything happen to any of you in my sight, Dacey. Before being my guards, you are my friends—my family."
I felt her shaking a bit, probably remembering the Lannister soldier brandishing his sword at her, and I could see her eyes starting to mist. "I am your king, Dacey. Trust me, I'll do my best to keep you all safe."
"Thank you," she smiled prettily. "Really, thank you, Robb. I don't know how my mother would react if I didn't make it back home."
"But even knowing it would hurt her, I would give my life to keep you safe, Your Grace," she smiled again. "We really need a name for the guard," she frowned before pouting. "I wouldn't like being called a Kingsguard. You're better than the last kings and deserve something more imposing."
"Bah, you can think of one while you're alone, I don't care much about that," I snorted. I didn't see the need to focus on that while we were in the middle of a conflict. For now, I needed to wrap up things here in Riverrun. We captured Tywin's entire army during the battle, but that didn't mean much since we were blind to the situation south of Riverrun. We didn't know if more soldiers were marching to join the main host through the Golden Tooth or anything like that.
That was why I was waiting for Kevan before making more plans. I needed to have a serious talk with him and also have him check the dead before we started disposing of the bodies. If there were any high-ranking persons among the dead, we needed to make sure we did the right thing. As for the rest? Individual burials for our people, and burning the dead from the Westerlands.
As we talked, I saw Kevan being led toward my position by Brynden. My great-uncle had been busy with the aftermath of the battle, and I should have been too, but honestly, I didn't care much. That's the importance of delegating things to trusted people. If I tried to be involved in everything, I was sure I'd end up mad.
My great-uncle had done a wonderful job during the battle. His men cut through the Lannisters and delivered a devastating blow to their morale. Finding out they were outclassed and in the middle of a pincer attack was what broke the camel's back. Besides that, from what I've heard, he was the one who decimated the commanders, having killed the Strongboar in single combat. Even if that wasn't that impressive, thanks to Strongboar's missing arm, he also killed Emmon Frey and defeated Tywin.
They weren't great fighters, but the importance of their names wasn't insignificant. He'd earned a lot of praise, and I could see the bards writing songs or poems about the Blackfish.
Looking toward the door that was opening, I smiled at the new arrivals.
"Congratulations, great-uncle. You've brought justice to the Riverlands," I nodded.
"Justice will be served when these pigs end up dead," he grunted in reply, pushing Kevan inside the room.
I took the moment to inspect the Lannister lord as they entered. He was disheveled, and his attire was in disarray. But what caught my attention was that he wasn't afraid. He hadn't been killed during the battle, and he either thought he was worth more alive, or that my honor, instilled by my family, wouldn't permit me to harm him now that the battle was over.
It wouldn't stop me, of course. If I ever saw the need for him to die, my "honor" would be the last thing I'd think about before cutting off his head. But to be honest, Kevan Lannister deserved to live. He was one of the few people with that last name I respected, and I knew he could be useful in the future.
"Is there a reason our guest is wearing different clothes than before?" I asked with a frown, even though I already knew the answer. I couldn't let them learn more about my abilities than necessary, so I had to keep hiding certain things, like my range.
The Blackfish snorted, "He needed to change his small clothes. I think he had quite a fright during the battle."
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the image. That wasn't something I wanted to picture.
"How have the Riverlands been treating you, Lord Kevan?" I asked him in a mild tone. I wouldn't start this conversation with threats.
"They've been surprisingly polite," he replied just as mildly, watching me like a hawk, trying to see through me.
"It's good that my men follow orders," I smiled, showing my teeth. "Could you imagine what would happen if my men acted the same as the Mountain and Ser Amory Lorch?"
He visibly slumped his shoulders. "No… my lord… I don't want to imagine that."
"Good, good," I replied. "It's better this way. We can avoid so many difficulties when our men listen to orders."
"Now…" I continued, "You know what to expect as my prisoner?"
"Aye," he replied. "I won't make things difficult for your guards, Robb Stark. I don't want to see a repeat of that battlefield."
"I'm sure all your men will be just as tame," I snorted. "But yes, you'll be taken care of, and your men will go north and join the Wall."
"But before we determine your fate, I need you to do a simple task for me," I continued with a calm face, showing that I wasn't going to ask for anything unreasonable. "I need you to follow a retinue of my men and gather the bodies of the important people in your army so we can return their remains."
Kevan opened his mouth to ask something but thought better of it and nodded. "When you return, I'll ask some more questions before you can go back to your cozy little cell, Kevan Lannister. I give you my word if you behave, nothing untoward will happen to you. Make sure you tell your brother that."
"Thank you," he replied firmly, and with as much dignity as he could feign, he walked outside where another guard started leading him to the battlefield along with some soldiers.
"It's been a busy day," I sighed, taking a seat in one of the chairs my men had set up while I was here.
I signaled Dacey and my great-uncle to take a seat as well and uncorked a wine bottle I had on hand, serving three cups for all of us.
"For victory," I deadpanned and raised my cup languidly.
Dacey snorted and downed her cup in one gulp, while the Blackfish sipped his slowly.
"We lost a lot of people," I muttered, feeling a small amount of shame, "but we won in the end."
My great-uncle chuckled, swirling his cup of wine. "People die in a war, who would have thought? But yes, we won, and it was a fine victory under your name, Robb. But never forget, Tywin Lannister is a snake, and I'm sure he's plotting from his cell how he can move next."
"Aye, I know, great uncle… But there's not much we can do to him right now. He's far too valuable to kill, and I cannot lie and say he wouldn't be useful in the fight against the Others," I nodded.
"And I bet he knows that," grunted Dacey, already on her third cup of wine. I was beginning to worry about what she might do. I didn't know what it was like to come so close to death, but I needed to take care of her in any way I could. For now, though, I'd let her drink—maybe that would help her sleep tonight.
"But that doesn't matter much," grunted the Blackfish. "We won, and he's our prisoner. After we're done with Jaime's host, we'll start your campaign for the Iron Throne."
"Oh?" I smiled. "Will you follow me?"
The Blackfish grunted. "It's a moot point, nephew. You brought the Riverlands back to victory after so many defeats. The Riverlords will support you. I will support you."
I just sipped my wine. "I would have done the same even if I needed to fight alone for the throne. The Riverlands are family, and there's no way in the Seven Hells I would leave them burning."
"That's why you're a better pick for the throne, lad." He smiled genuinely. "The past and current kings don't care for the people of the realm, but you do. You helped us, and even if we didn't help you in the future, you wouldn't turn your army against us. That's something they're missing."
"Before you leave, I need to ask something," I continued. "What's the best course of action after defeating Jaime's host?"
"You have some options, but before I tell you, I want to hear your plans. I aim to be a counselor for you, nephew, and I want you to grow as a ruler." The Blackfish shrugged.
"The first thing to do after returning is either to take the Golden Tooth and secure it, or simply arm a strong enough force to keep the Westerlands alienated from King's Landing," I started. "After that, I'd need to march to Harrenhal. Since the castle is close to the Isle of Faces, we can send our wounded there to be treated by the rest of the Green Men. Afterward, we'll take Duskendale to be closer to the capital."
Ser Brynden nodded. "Aye, you're on the right path, nephew. But you forgot something."
Raising my eyebrow, I motioned for him to continue.
"There are multiple participants in this war. You cannot overcommit to some of them while leaving the rest unobserved," he snorted. "The Reach, for all their posh and flimsy loyalty, are supporting Renly, and they have the biggest army in Westeros."
"Aye, I know that, but since their army is so big, they cannot move swiftly. We have time to plan against them," I replied. "But that's beside the point. I'm pretty sure Stannis and Renly will fight before going for the throne. They'll gain the most from that battle, and whoever wins could gain the allegiance of the families supporting the losers."
The Blackfish nodded in acceptance. "Aye, that's true. What about the Targaryen?"
"He has no support besides the Golden Company for now, and the houses still loyal to the Targaryens wouldn't dare act in the open while they're sworn to a king. He'll need time to consolidate the Golden Company under him—time I'll use to infiltrate the Vale," I smirked. "Aunt Lysa has to pay for her crimes, and I'm sure her madness has been spotted by her men. So while my army is settling in Harrenhal and Duskendale, I'll enter the Vale and test the waters. If I can get their support, I'll have three kingdoms under me. I'm sure the Royces, the Waynwoods, and the Corbrays would be happy with my assistance."
"Good," the Blackfish grunted. "I'm happy you have a good head on your shoulders. It'll serve you well in the future."
"What do you think?" I asked him. "Is there anything we could change?"
"Aye…"
The next day
Robb Stark
The castle was bustling with activity. In the courtyard, the small group of Green Men that stayed by my side were working hard to treat the wounded. Having lost over a thousand soldiers for the foreseeable future was something I needed to change, since for now, this was all I had.
I had no way to ally myself with anyone, and my trip to the Vale would take a while. So for now, the five Green Men and multiple maesters were hard at work trying to save as many as they could.
Thankfully, magic and my insects were capable of speeding up the process, but not everything was right.
"How many Lannister men do we have here?" I asked aloud, hoping that some of my commanders knew the answer since I didn't want to waste time counting them myself.
"There are over ten thousand Lannister soldiers in the camp, Robb. This cannot continue. Besides the risk we're taking by keeping them grouped up, we don't have enough food to keep them fed," replied Jon with a frown. "We need to move them as soon as we can, but we can't send them all to the Wall at once. I don't think we can risk arming so many enemies there—the Night's Watch would get overrun."
I frowned deeply at that. Jon was right, and as much as I hated it, I needed to act soon. That meant losing some of my forces before marching, and I also needed to support my uncle Edmure to gain the respect of the lords that followed him.
There were so many things to do and so many places to be, but I couldn't do everything myself.
"Torrhen, I need you to do something for me," I grunted. "Jon is right, we can't allow so many Lannister men to stay here. We risk them doing something foolish, forcing my hand to act, or the Riverlanders taking advantage of them. I need at least half of them gone."
"What do you need, your grace?" he nodded, "I'm pretty sure I know, but I'd prefer for you to tell me."
"You need to make a detour home," I sighed. "I know none of you want to leave my sight, but there are no more trusted men than you."
"Aye," he grunted. "I don't want to leave, but I understand."
"Good," I nodded. "Take ten thousand men with you. I'll speak to the Blackfish later. I want you to do some things for me before going to the Wall. I want you to take the men to Harrenhall. I'll have Grandfather pen a message for Lord Whent. There, you will leave five thousand men, under Ser Brynden."
"After leaving the men there, you will travel north. I want you and the ten thousand men to support the Wall for a while. After that's done, you can come back here. I know it will be a long journey, but I trust you," I continued, looking at him with a smile. While he wasn't the best fighter, he was damn intelligent and loyal to both.
"Understood, your grace. I'll leave at dawn," he nodded, and I could see he was mad because he had to leave my side, but he also understood it was for the best.
"Good," I smiled. "I'm sure you will do a wonderful job. Remember to send me a raven with news from that side of Westeros."
"Now for the rest of us, I will leave the rest of the army here, and we will leave today to help my uncle against Jaime. After we defeat his host, we will march to Duskendale and take the castle. I want to have the three kingdoms on my back; that way we can increase our numbers before battling the rest," I smiled. "Before we leave, is there something we need to talk about?"
"Aye, what of the Mountain?" asked Jon with surprising vitriol, but I somewhat understood where he was coming from. He was raised by my father, and what the Mountain had done during the Sack of King's Landing and this war was atrocious. Jon wanted blood, and I wasn't about to deprive him of that.
"I already thought about that. He will be a gift for Dorne, but you can rough him up a bit before we send him," I replied, looking at him with understanding. "Just be careful. He will wake up soon, and I want him mostly sedated, but awake. Make him feel pain."
"It would be my honor," Jon bowed dramatically, and I snorted. "Anything else?"
There were shakes of their heads in answer, and I stood up, satisfied. "Then get moving, we leave in three hours."
The Riverlands
Edmure Tully
I rode at the head of my host, the banner of House Tully moving along with the wind. Behind me, an honestly impressive gathering of brave men followed me as far as the eye could see—twenty thousand strong, all marching to bring peace back to the Riverlands, to finish the root of everything evil in these lands.
The Lannisters had damaged so much since before they had an in with the throne, since as much as Tywin tried, the Mad King would not give him access. But the old lion was finally capable of grazing the throne thanks to the dumb Robert Baratheon.
I was too young to participate in Robert's Rebellion, but I remember vividly, and I honestly thought he was a bad choice as a king even back then.
Shaking my head, I focused on the problem at hand. Robert, as bad a king as he was, couldn't do any more damage now that he was dead, and he didn't even leave a legitimate heir for the throne if what Ned discovered was the truth. Not that I didn't believe him; the character of my brother-in-law was known in the Seven Kingdoms, and I was sure he wouldn't lie about something this big.
If I knew him as well as I believed, I was pretty sure he was feeling pretty bad about having started this conflict, even if it wasn't his fault. Hopefully, being along with Cat would help him feel better.
Having seen how Robb was raised, I couldn't help but smile. He wasn't even a man by our standards, and he was already named king by his people, even knowing his father was still alive. Being capable of that was something to be proud of.
Smiling at the thought of my nephew sitting on the Iron Throne, I looked at my side, focusing on something else entirely.
The Green Men.
They had appeared just as Robb had sent me on this mission. The mysterious figures, rumored to be older than even the First Men, had pledged themselves to follow me just because my nephew asked. Hearing about him being the champion of the gods he revered was something that I couldn't stomach easily. I was a firm follower of the Seven, and while not as pious as some of the Riverlanders, I was proud of my faith, even when I hadn't seen anything to show of their existence.
But hearing from Robb that he communicated directly with his gods was hard to believe, even with the proof of his gifts.
The Green Men, led by Lord Sylvyrn—who just grunted when he heard someone call him a lord—were cloaked in robes of dark green and brown, their faces hidden behind carved wooden masks. They traveled at my side, silent.
At first, I had been suspicious of them. They were no more than legends, and people even doubted they existed in the first place. What could they offer besides healing in a battle against the likes of Jaime Lannister?
Yet their powers had become evident early during our travels. The land itself seemed to bend to their will. Roads that had been perilous and muddy now firmed underfoot. Streams of water that should have slowed our march flowed in narrower, more manageable paths. Food seemed to last longer than it should, and every night, campfires burned brighter, giving comfort to the soldiers.
I turned my saddle, glancing at Sylvyrn, who was watching me with a smile that unsettled me. He knew I was watching and thinking about him; he always seemed to know things in his surroundings.
Some of my soldiers whispered in fear, others in awe—mostly the men from the North who were following the Green Men under Robb's orders. I wasn't sure what to make of them. Magic wasn't something I put much stock in, but Robb had spoken of them with respect, and the Green Men followed him as the champion of their gods. If my nephew trusted them, so would I.
"Edmure," a voice called from the side. Ser Vance, the newly appointed Lord of his house after his father's death under my uncle, had ridden up beside me.
He was frowning more than usual, which had become his default expression since his father's death, but now there was something else—a hint of concern in his tone. "The men are talking. Some are saying it's unnatural, the way the weather favors us."
I nodded, having already heard the rumors. I couldn't help but feel a surge of irritation. "I've heard the talk. Let them gossip—it's not our concern."
"And yet, it could be," Lord Vance replied, his eyes narrowing. "Superstition can turn a man's heart cold faster than steel. You need to address this before it becomes a problem."
I sighed, glancing back at Sylvyrn, who was watching me with that small, unsettling smile of his—maybe enjoying the fact that I was in a difficult spot. I didn't doubt their loyalty as much as I probably should. They had traveled far from their home to join this war, and they hadn't asked for anything in return. But the whispers of my men were growing louder, and fear had a way of spreading like wildfire.
"I'll speak with them," I said after a moment of thought. "But I won't have my men turning their backs on help when we need every advantage we can get."
Lord Vance grunted. "I hope you can talk some sense into them. I'd hate to see good men falter because of a few ill-timed rumors. Yes, it's unnatural, but they're helping us and don't deserve this treatment from the Riverlanders. I'm beginning to understand why they stayed hidden if this is how we treat them after all they've done."
"Aye," I nodded, and with that, Lord Vance rode back to check on the rear of the formation.
The march, which should have been slow and arduous, had been swift and easy thanks to the Green Men. My men were in good spirits, and we were making better time than I had hoped. Every now and then, I caught sight of one of the Green Men raising a hand or whispering something under their breath, and the world would shift in response—a tree bending aside to clear a path, a gust of wind parting the mist. Unbelievable things happened with just a small gesture.
"Magic," I snorted to myself. "I never thought I'd see the day."
Even with our speed, it would still take time to reach Mummer's Ford. And despite my earlier bravado, I couldn't deny the fear gnawing at my confidence. Jaime was a knight of unparalleled skill, a man with a reputation as golden as his hair. I, on the other hand, had never proven myself in battle. The Riverlords followed me because of my name, not because of any deeds.
I clenched my fists until they turned white. This was my chance—my chance to prove to everyone that I was worthy of leading the Riverlands.
"Lord Edmure," a soft voice called from behind. One of the Green Men, Lady Elyndra, if I remember correctly. Her mask was shaped like a snarling wolf. "We are nearing a place where the earth is old. There is power here. We can use it to hide our approach from the enemy."
I frowned, glancing at her. "What do you mean by that?"
Lady Elyndra tilted her head. "There are places in the world where magic still lingers, where the weirwood roots run deep. We can draw on that power to cloak your men, so Jaime will never see you coming until it's too late."
"Do it," I replied after a moment of hesitation. "Just make sure my men aren't harmed by whatever you do."
Lady Elyndra nodded once. "I would never harm the army of our champion if I can avoid it." With that, she turned and disappeared into the ranks.
If magic could give me the edge I needed against someone of Jaime's caliber, then so be it. My pride wasn't big enough to refuse the help I desperately needed.
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Chapter 61: The North.
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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.
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?"
If you want to support me or read up to 25k words ahead, you can find me on patr*e on . co m (slash) Infinityreads99
Discord link: ht tps/ / disc ord . gg (slash) mfsJGtuY
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.
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?"
If you want to support me or read up to 25k words ahead, you can find me on patr*e on . co m (slash) Infinityreads99
Discord link: ht tps/ / disc ord . gg (slash) mfsJGtuY
Alex1402
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Well…. Gotta to fulfill the pact of ice and fire. (Him being a red head has nothing to do with it)
But there is still the issue of Daenerys being barren. So future heirs are going to be an issue.
ATP
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Barren thanks to magic.If Robb have better magic,it woud be no problem.
That aside - Westerland foloow Tywin becouse of fear,not love,so he could gave living Tywin to Martells,and tell westerlands Lords that they would be next if they do not behave.
Alex1402
Getting sticky.
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I can see that working. He has the blessing of the old gods. And there was the legend of Greenhand Gardener, who was able to increase the fertility of land and make woman pregnant just by touching them. He just needs the increased fertility part.
Honestly it will ideal to wipe out House Lannister for Tywin's actions during the sack of Kingslanding. But Robb is not the affected party so a few additional taxes should do.
Still he must work out the laws of succession. His kids are going to sit on the iron throne. Then Brandon will have Winterfell. If author agrees, then Edmure Tully dies and Rickon inherits Riverlands.
MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot
I am INVINCIBLE... and a loony!
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I just read the first chapter of this and I'm not sure I want to continue. The premise is cool, but the writing style is very offputting. It jumps from one POV to the next, sometimes in first person and sometimes third, FOR THE SAME CHARACTERS even, so it feels really choppy. The A/N said the first few chapters were bad, but I didn't expect them to be this bad. Those of you who read the whole thing, does it improve from there? Does the premise gets its reasonable due?
ATP
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No,not wiping out Lannisters.Simply let Oberyn torture Tywin to death.And say to all westerlands Lords,that the same would happen to any future rebel.
Alex1402
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It would have been effective had Tywin just murdered any random member of the royal family. But he was cruel enough to try and eradicate entire family. Even children were not spared. And he almost succeeded.
Doing anything less to him is a sign of weakness. Especially in Westeros. Best would be to wipe out all male descendants and marrying a female ones to a loyal banner man. Making Westerlands like Reach and Riverlands, where Lord Paramounts are wayyy weaker than other regions.
Chapter 62: The Ironborn Entrance
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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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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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