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Chapter Four:

JON

There was a light mist in the air as Jon knelt in the underbrush, his hands slick with sweat as he stood on the edge of a waiting battle. Looking around him, Jon saw a few of the men around him with steeled looks, they were the veterans of the Whispering Wood and of the Battle of the Camps. He was with a mix of Glover, Umber, and Karstark men who made up the vanguard of Robb's right flank.

Looking out past the tree line, Jon could just make out the vast city of tents sprawled out before him through the thick fog that had settled over the encampment. The fires of Lannister soldiers doted the landscape as the soft mummer of men talking in the night and the whines of warhorses filled the air.

There was a crack of thunder somewhere off in the distance as Jon wondered if the weather might turn poor, but the battle wouldn't wait if it did. He wondered if he might be tossed into a mud, how he would fair in his first battle. A thought crossed his mind, that tonight he would kill his first man, and perhaps more. Some men relished in the idea of wetting their blade, it only made Jon more anxious, at the uncertainty, and while he didn't doubt his ability to do so, he questioned how easy, or hard, it would be to take that first life.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder Jon turned to see a man of House Glover over his shoulder. He was a thin man with a gruff leathery face that held a long scar across his left eye, which was now nothing but a socket. "We're moving soon, oathbreaker," The man said in a hushed tone. "Where's your beast off to, I'd feel better if it were here to rip out a few Lannister throats for us."

"I left him with his brother. He and Grey Wind will be alongside Robb in the carvery charge."

"So long as he's ripping into them and not us, I suppose."

AWOOOOOOOOO

Looking back into the woods, Jon heard the howl break through the night air. Pulling his sword Jon looked forward. It was the signal that Robb had assigned for his plan to begin. Jon watched as a small number of men slipped from the forest and moved quietly along the tree line where the Lannister army had tied their horses, each man cutting the lines one by one, setting the horse free from the trees.

There was a long pause before the men took up their places back in the ranks. Gripping his longsword Jon thought his blade felt awkward opposed to that of Longclaw. He'd only had the sword for a short time, but somehow it had felt natural in his hand whereas the steal he carried now felt like something Ser Rodrik would have trained him with.

AWOOOOOOOOO

Somewhere near the center of the forest Grey Wind, or perhaps it was Ghost, howled for a second time before a loud chorus of war horns blasted followed by a cry throughout the woods that fanned out to around Jon who joined in the cries of "The King in the North!"

Striking alongside the gruff Glover man, Jon charged out of the woods. Watching, Jon saw the horses panic as they thundered toward the camp. Spooked, the beasts bolted away from their horde of men, sending them right into the Lannister camp. Running stride for stride with the rest of the van, Jon watched as the Lannister's own horses topped tents and rappelled men in their craze adding to the chaos and confusion as their line slammed into the unsuspecting army.

Racing forward Jon watched as the first few Westmen fumbled at their belts before they were cut down. Blood splattered all around as Jon quickly found himself rushing into the city of tents as Lannister men poured out from their tents, most dying before they could pull even give a half-hearted swing of their swords.

Looking to his left, Jon spotted a man dressed in naught, but his small clothes come rushing toward him with an ax raised above his head. Without thinking, Jon swung his sword, and in an instant, he watched as the man cried out in pain, his hands flying to his gut as his insides spilled out. The shock of seeing such a thing washed over him as the realization that he'd done the man in hit him.

This isn't a battle, this is a slaughter, Jon thought as the screams of battle raged around him.

Though the feeling was gone nearly as quickly as it had come as more men had found their senses and weapons and had come charging at the Stark line. Quickly, Jon moved from clash to clash as he and the rest of the vanguard pushed through the Lannister camp. The battle seemed to blur together, as Jon slew his second and then third man before soon he'd lost count of the number he'd carved out. By this time the storm had reached the battle as the skies opened, lightning cracked as a wave after wave of rain fell upon them, turning the dirt to mud and washed off the blood and gore as quickly as Jon created it.

Somewhere in the campfire had caught and had begun to spread through, burning a good number of tents as Jon caught a glimpse of a man running out of one engulfed in an orange blaze. Opening an assailant's throat, Jon found that he had been separated from the rest of his men. Jon had remembered seeing Leatherface falling to the dirt after a man caught him in the neck with an ax.

Wiping his head around Jon saw that he had three men upon him. Quickly, Jon moved to engage the first, parrying his clumsy blow to the side before slitting open his neck. The other two rushed him from behind, but Jon was able to sidestep the blow of the first man's sword before he had started to engage the second man. There was a quick flash of swords and Jon spared with the man for a moment before the hilt of his blade found the man's nose, breaking it on contact. Jon Drove his foot into the man's balls before driving his sword down into his chest. Struggling with the blade, Jon found it had lodged itself into the man, and thinking of his surroundings Jon looked to his rear in time to see the last man raising his sword to cut him down.

Wide-eyed Jon tried to stagger to the side, but he knew it was far too late to avoid the blow. Just as the swing was falling toward him, a blur of white was upon the man. With a vicious growl and a bloody gargle, the man lay bleeding to death, his throat eviscerated by Ghost's razor-sharp fangs. Looking at his companion, Jon gave him a nod, but Ghost only returned a steely stare before his wolf burst rushed onto the next Lannister.

Reaching to the mud, Jon found a discarded sword, and upon reaching it, the battle was upon him once more. Running deeper into the center of the camp, Jon found Lannister's dying as a melee lead by Lord Rickard Karstark. Jon noted that the opposing Lannister's where rallying behind the leadership of their own commander who was at the rear of the battle, from what Jon knew he assumed the man to be Stafford Lannister. Running in, Jon joined with the battle, taking the place of a fallen Northman, Jon began to cut through the line.

"I want that Lannister," Jon could hear Lord Karstark shouting off to his left, "His head's mine!"

Falling yet another man, Jon and a few others broke through the line until they came upon the Stafford and his guard. There were five men counting Ser Stafford, all armed with sword and shield. Jon alongside three other men, one who was Lord Karstark, armed with a lance, engaged the men head-on. Jon was quick, slipping around the defense of the first man that approached him, stabbing the man in his left armpit, his blade driving up into the man's lungs. Pulling away, Jon helped a man bearing the sigil of House Glover fall his own man. The other Northman alongside Lord Karstark had been slain, but the Lord of Karhold had driven his lance through a last remaining Lannister Guard.

Jon watched as Ser Stafford came toward him. The Glover man stepped forward by swung high at Stafford's head and was repaid with a swift cut across his face. Engaging the man, Jon spared with him. Indeed, he was far better than anyone whom Jon had dealt slain in the battle, but not so good that he pressed him. It was a short bout, and before Jon knew it, he found his blade impaling Ser Stafford through his belly. Jon looked at him in his green eyes as they seemed to move far off as they glazed over. Removing his sword from the man's chest Jon watched as he fell to the mud, his golden hair turned brown from the muck.

"He was mine!" Turning Jon watched as a red-faced Lord Karstark came upon him. "He was mine to kill, oathbreaker!" The man spat into the mud.

"He engaged me, what was I to do!" Jon replied hotly.

"He was MINE. All the bloody Lannister's are mine!" Karstark shouted, and as if to prove his point he turned and spotted a feeling Lannister soldier and ran at him, thrusting his spear through the man's heart as he drove his body up into the air before tossing both he and his weapon aside. "No bastard will keep me from my vengeance." He declared before looking to the rest of his command, who had finished the last of the Lannister's in the immediate vicinity. "Follow me, we're looking for that cunt Ser Daven, I swear I'll kill at least one lion tonight!" Turning back to Jon the lord looked at him with a cold gaze. "Go somewhere you're wanted, bastard."

Feeling hot with anger, Jon wanted to reach out and strike the Lord Karstark but thought better of it as he watched the man lead his men toward the edge of the camp. Jon felt anger, but then a sense of shame as he looked around himself, seeing the blood and gore around him, and the dead pooled around himself. Looking down Jon saw the Glover man, laying in the mud, his face a mess of blood that pooled at his cut as he twitched, and for the first time Jon's head cleared of battle, as he heard the cries of the dying, and the song of battle raging, and he thought of all he'd done, all the killing, and he found it left a sour taste in his mouth.

SAMWELL

The Lord Commander had kept Samwell busy with his raven throughout their ranging. Two-hundred members of the watch had ridden north of the wall and he'd somehow ended up getting stuck with the rest of them. Sam did his best with writing Mormont's letters, sending his raven to castle black, hoping that they'd be back south of the wall before his thick fingers froze off from the old.

It was odd seeing the Lord commander walk around with Long Claw again, Sam had gotten used to the idea of the blade on Jon's hip, and the pommel was still a white wolf's head. Sam supposed the Lord commander had either kept it to remind him of Jon's desertion or hadn't bothered to have it replaced back to that of a bear yet.

Sam sloshed through the mud as he found Grenn huddled next to a smoldering fire. Sam had remembered the hours they had spent trying to get something to light, it wasn't until they'd found some dry sticks underneath a felled tree that they'd been able to get a fire going. Sitting alongside his friend Grenn dipped a ladle into a stew that was boiling over the embers of the fire and poured him a bowl. It was little more than a broth, but Sam's stomach growled at the waft of the hot liquid and his belly was glad at the warmth of it as he took a long drink.

"Edd was telling me that the Lord Commander offered his ax to Craster as a gift so we could stay on his land." Green sniffed before spitting into the mud. "I'd offer him my horse if I could get one or two of his daughters for a night, it's bloody cold, I could use someone to warm my bed."

"Don't let Craster hear you talking like that, man's crazy, I hear a wildling will eat men whole if they run out of food." Looking back over his shoulder Sam watched as Edd sat down across from him. "Plus, they're all inbred. It's rather unnatural don't you think?"

"I mean, some of them seem nice. Just because- because they were born… unnaturally, as Edd puts it, doesn't mean they're bad." Sam interjected.

"Looking to get with some of Craster's wives Tarly?" Green chuckled. "I bet they'd prefer you over that crazy bastard. I've heard some of the others say that he eats his son, that or he's afraid he might have to share his wives, so he chops up any boys he happens to spawn."

"Alright, that's enough of that." Edd declared wrapping himself in his cloak. "Craster's already threated a few of our brothers with that new ax the Lord Commander gave him, says he'd cut off a hand if he caught on one of his 'wives'."

"At least you get to spend some time where it's dry, even if it's with a man like Craster."

During the ranging Edd had taken the role that Jon should have held. Edd had been promoted to acting as the squire for the Old Bear on their great ranging. Truth be told Sam didn't think that Edd much liked the role, but he's not complained much when Mormont had let him sleep under a roof.

"Do you know how long will stay at Craster's?" Sam asked as he set aside his now empty bowl.

"I would guess we'll be off today, tomorrow at the latest. Craster is keen to see us off and Mormont's eager to move on. I don't blame him, despite the dry ground, there isn't much I like about this place."

Samwell remembered the girl, Gilly, one of Craster's wives. She was frightened, she'd told him about how Craster dealt with his son's, and how she feared she carried on in her belly. Sam had wished for more than anything that Jon was there, he supposed if anyone could have helped her it would have been him. But Jon was an oathbreaker and was south fighting his brother's war now, and Sam was left helpless to do anything for her. Despite this he'd promised to help her, he knew not how, but he'd pitied her situation and felt some semblance of, well duty to help her.

"I know what you mean," Sam offered a nervous smile. "That girl, Gilly, I told you about—"

"One of Craster's wives," Edd warned.

"Yes, one of his wives. Well, she told me, what happens to Craster's sons," Sam felt a hitch in his throat. "He- he, apparently, offers them to his gods."

"Offers? Like sacrificing them?" Grenn raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe, whatever he does they don't come back from wherever it is he sends them."

Edd looked at the dirt. "He's a wildling Tarly, they're savages, but like the Old Bear says, Craster is one of the few allies the Watch has north of the wall, it's not something we need concern ourselves with."

"There must be something we can do, it's not right. Maybe if you talked to Mormont—"

"He'd tell you the same thing," Edd barked. "Craster's as wild and vile as the rest of the wildling rabble, and the only law here what Craster decides."

"Well, at least maybe we help at least one of them when we head home. I made Gilly a promise. It'd only have to be as far as the wall."

Grenn rolled his eyes. "Gods Sam, use that big head of yours. Shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

"It was the right thing!"

"Doesn't matter if it was right or wrong, what matters is what's best for the Watch, and the Lord Commander would be furious if we alienate Craster, only one's might be madder than him is the rangers you'd fuck over."

The sound of horses entering camp put an end to their conversation as Sam watch Jarman Buckwell descend from his horse alongside the rest of his scouts, his black cloak dripping wet with mud from his ride. Rising, Edd walked over to the man through the now thawing mud, his boots squishing through the muck.

"No sign of any wildlings on the common paths further north. Path's cleared up enough, the ground's still slick with the mess, but we'll manage. Tell Mormont we should be good to travel on his command." Buckwell declared.

"I'll inform the Lord Commander then. Find any game?"

"A few rabbits, but not enough to share with the rest of the rabble. Besides, you've been enjoying Craster's grub, no reason for you to need any of my boy's hunt."

"Fair enough," Edd said before turning to head toward Craster's. "Don't mention that wildling girl to Mormont when we make ready to leave," Edd warned as he strode past.

"Fine," Sam said sullenly. I wish it where Jon and not Edd, he'd understand.

ROBB

The morning air was thick with the smell of rotting bodies as Robb stood over a long oak table in the tavern at Oxcross. The village had been all but burnt to the ground in the battle, but by some miracle, the inn had been spared. What little information was left behind by the now departed Ser Stafford had given them some semblance of information no the Lannister war plans, but Robb gleaned little from the piles of parchment he'd looked at.

Looking around the room, Robb noted the members of his war council as they talked amounts themselves. The Greatjon stood looming near the door of the as Lord Karstak and the Blackfish. "Will Lord Glover be joining us?" Robb asked.

"He's still recovering from his wound, same with Ser Stevron." The Blackfish answered. "Seems the old Frey has taken to a fever."

"If the gods are good, they will be back on the field before we're ready to move." Robb sighed. "What news of the remnants of the Lannister army?"

"Ser Devan Lannister managed to gather some two and a half thousand men in the chaos and is running back to Casterly Rock as we speak. There could be another thousand men who deserted the battle who might make their way back to the Rock as well."

"So, we might assume he has at least some three thousand men at his disposal."

"I doubt Ser Devan will be bold enough to march against us, especially after this defeat. If he's smarter than his father he'll remain behind his walls and wait for Tywin to march west."

"Then we'll split up our forces, raid the west as planned and pillage the Lannister mines."

"Cut off the lions gold and they become nothing more than kittens." The Greatjon boomed. "The only gold we'll leave the Lannister's with will be on their smug heads."

"I'd rather have their heads." Lord Karstark barked. "I lost that cunt Stafford to your bastard brother; I want my payment of Lannister blood."

"That boy was a terror on the field, he killed some twenty men, along with Ser Stafford, you can't fault a warrior for killing a man in a melee." The Blackfish replied. "Another Lannister is dead, at the end of the day what does it matter to you how he died?"

"It was my son they killed, I will be the one to repay the Lannister's until the king allows me to relieve the Kingslayer of his head, I will not rest until his kin are snuffed out."

"Be that as it may, leave Eddard's bastard out of this, he served King Robb well last night."

"So long as he doesn't kill what is mine to kill, I will leave him out of it!"

"Enough!" Robb declared. "I promised you that once we've won this war you will have your justice."

Robb looked over the map, the lines of rivers and creeks and dots of castles and villages. His plan was unfolding, he hoped that they would be able to apply enough pressure to force Tywin to withdraw himself from Harrenhall and push back into the Riverlands where he might put his foe to the sword and draw the war to a swift conclusion.

"What should our course of action be now," The Blackfish asked. "Have we any word from the Greyjoys?"

"None," Robb confirmed. "I've had no word from Theon. Until we know whether the Iron Fleet is behind us, we cannot hope to march on Casterly Rock." There where nods of agreement among the men as Robb studied the map.

"Lord Karstark as soon as Lord Glover is well you and he will take the Karstark and Glover armies and raid every mine and keep you come across on the northern coast. Take whatever you need to supply your armies and plunder every mine you come across. From there all the valuables you capture will be colleceted back at Riverrun, what you can't take with you, burn.

I along with Ser Brynden will take the bulk of our force and take more fortified positions to operate from. Lord Umber will focus on the gold supply, and Lady Mormont will take the forces of Bear Island alongside two-hundred men from winter town to bolster her numbers and raid around near Casterly Rock. That should keep Ser Devan occupied and put more pressure on Tywin to march west out of Harrenhall." Now the other matter. "Alongside the good lady, I plan to send Jon Snow to act as her second."

There was a moment of silence among his council as he declared in intention. Lord Karstark's face nearly turned red at that, while Ser Bryden let out a quiet sigh. They mistrust him, but he is my brother, and he's proven himself in battle. I need commanders loyal as him, and for that, he needs to help command.

"Your Grace—" Lord Karstark began, but Robb quickly cut him off.

"He's proven himself on the field, and he is the son of my father Eddard Stark. He wants Lannister's to pay as much as any of us, I will not hear anymore on this matter. He abandoned on Mormont, I see why he shouldn't be made to serve under another, and I am certain that the good lady can handle my brother."

There was a long pause before Karstark let out a loud huff. "If that will be all, your Grace."

"Yes," Robb decided. "You may all take your leave." How far will Karstark go with his slights before I should make an example of him?

One by one they left to room until it was only his great uncle and he remained. Studying the map, he could feel the old man's eyes upon him, despite his crown Robb still felt small under his gaze, though he didn't show it.

"You're giving him too much too soon." The Blackfish finally declared.

"He's paid for his desertion with a whip, and he got found us a path through the mountains. Along with slaying Ser Stafford, the victory at Oxcross is as much his doing as it is mine."

Brynden snorted at that. "You are really giving him too much credit. You drew up the battle plans, he was simply another sword in the fight. You'd have found that path without his wolf, I don't doubt Grey Wind didn't find it just as soon as his pup did, and Karstark would have killed Stafford as surely as Snow did."

He's not wrong. "My mind is made up; Jon will go with the Lady Mormont and prove himself capable."

"Clearly, it's not you who needs swaying, I and every lord under your command know you favor him, but you might state it too boldly. Where he, not a deserter of the Watch he'd be hailed as a hero, but the fact is he's mistrusted."

"I grow tired of this conversation. I will hear no more of it."

"As you say, your Grace." With a bow the Blackfish was gone, leaving Robb alone with naught but his thoughts.

As the evening drew Robb found himself walking across the muddy field of the battlefield, Grey Wind at his hip. Piles of bodies had been made as men carted logs of wood as they built pyres for the dead, stripping the dead of whatever they had of use. There was a great gathering of crows as they flew about, peeking at the dead flesh as silent sisters walked from body to body performing the duty of their order. The stench of the dead burned the nose, no matter how many battles Robb partook in he doubted he'd ever grow accustomed to the smell of rot.

Following the line where the Lannister camp once stood, Robb saw his brother sitting upon the broken remains of a cart taking a grindstone to his sword with Ghost lingering at his side. Looking up Jon saw him, his expression grim and sullen. Approaching, the King in the North reached out his hand as Ghost rose to sniff at it before giving his fingers tensive lapping with his rough tongue.

"I've heard you slew near twenty men in the battle."

"Twenty, thirty, I didn't keep count past five," Jon replied, though he seemed no pride in his words. "Most of them didn't even swing a sword, some didn't even have a sword when I slew them. Aside from Ser Stafford, there was very little fight in those who did clash with me."

"Did it bother you then? The killing?" Robb asked, remembering the first man he'd taken at the Whispering Wood, one of the men who'd taken part in the Kingslayer's charge. I'd seen his eyes in my dreams that night, Robb recalled.

"No," Jon admitted, "and in some ways, I feel like that's worse than feeling regret over it."

Robb nodded, "This is war, men die bloody, it's not like the songs or the stories father would tell. Honor is oft lost in the melee, what matters is coming out whole in the end."

Jon looked about, "You really shouldn't walk alone, you are a king after all."

Robb shrugged. "I doubt any many would be foolish enough to pull a blade with Ghost so near, and Grey Wind is lurking somewhere near as well. Besides, I am the king I can do as I please."

"As you say," Jon replied as he inspected his blade; seeming satisfied with his handy work he placed it back into his blade moleskin scabbard and rose. "Is there anything else, your Grace?"

"Yes, I've decided to place you directly under the command of Lady Mormont. You will serve as her second helping her in raiding the countryside. I'd have you go meet with her this evening." Robb flexed his hand.

"Why Lady Mormont?" Jon seemed tense at the thought of serving under the family of the head of his previous charge.

"As I see it you owe a debt to House Mormont, regain some honor by serving her. I doubt she'll have any love for you but prove yourself honorable. Prove yourself to the northern lords, if not your own sake, then for mine."

Hearing the familiar pattern of feet Robb looked over his shoulder as he watched Grey Wind come striding to his side. Placing his hand upon the tufts of his hair Robb felt whole as with his wolf at his side.

"I have my protection with me once more." Robb smiled, "I must attend to Ser Stevron and Lord Glove."

Jon gave a slight bow before Robb watched him leave, Ghost with him. I wish him good fortune; gods know my lords won't.

A/N:

School is almost over, so is sports, so I might have more time to write. Sorry for the long delay before chapters.

Q&A time.

Natzo- Mormont is kinda right, this is one more dishonorable decision that could affect Robb, but people are very hypocritical about the vows of the Night's Watch. Let's be honest, right now it's a penal colony and the desertion is more important should they had been sent there for a crime instead of willingly like Jon. It's not like the North actually CARES for the Night's Watch. Only House Stark.

That's the point, Jon is more of a crunch than a help to Robb at this stage of the game. To most of them he's the honorable Eddard Stark's shame, and on top of that now he's a deserter of the Night's Watch and yet Robb's giving him leniency. The point isn't really that he left the watch, it's that he broke vows, which give less credence to any vows he might give in the future. Also, the lords don't really have any reason to trust Jon at this point, aside from their king telling them to do so.

GodofKrypton- I'm interested in a conversation between Catelyn & Jon, besides Catelyn's moment in grief we know very little about their relationship outside of the thoughts of each other's POVs.

Cat and Jon won't meet until further into the war, she's still down treating with Renly and Jon's stuck in the Westerland's fighting with his brother. It'll be a bit before we have any interaction between the two of them.

If there's any POVs you guys want to see I can try and work them in. Right now it's just Jon, Robb, Bran, and Samwell with a few others already planned for down the road. Keep in mind that a lot of other events are going to be left unchanged (mainly the King's Landing plot line). Thanks!

-AA