A/N: Holy SHIT you guys. You REALLY like angry Tywin, huh? Because I got nearly double the reviews I usually get. You're all very good to me. And to all those expressing that: hey this plan by the Freys seems really dumb. Yes. It does. Indeed. But I promise all will make sense by the end ;) Come on this journey with me~

Also a note, in this chapter I actually get some into war details and like...I hate writing war. It's hard and I'm really not that great at it. But I am trying very hard (that's why this arc is kicking my ass). So if like...you notice an error in the Westeros geography or the strategies or anything like that... that's why. The war is all just an excuse for me to do character development stuff lol. In any case...enjoy!

Chapter 37: Return to the Riverlands

For Robb, there was only one path forward. But it was a desperately tricky path to walk.

Walder Frey's letter to Winterfell was an act of war against the Starks and Robb had to respond in kind, by calling his banners. But there was an immediate problem with that. Not one moon ago, many of the northmen had already pledged parts of their army to the Wall to help beat back Mance Rayder's army. And Robb could not call them back.

Mance was as much a threat to the north as Walder Frey. If he called his men away and marched south instead, the discontent would only grow. "Robb Starks thinks only of his family," they would say. "He pretends to care for the north, but when he faces a choice? He would damn us all for the lives of even one sister. Just like with the Lannisters."

But Robb could at least call on the men who had elected not to send men to the wall. He could not order them to fight for the Watch. But he could order them to fight for his family.

Every house sent some men, even if only a few. Some houses, like the Umbers had sent half their forces to the wall and sent their other half to Robb. Other houses, like Glover and Manderly, sent the majority of their forces to Robb, having doubts about the true threat of the Wildlings. Their loyalty, they said, belonged to House Stark first. Even the Boltons, who had sent most of their people to the wall, sent some people down south for the cause. It was fortunate that the northmen did not much like the Freys-especially after they had pulled their forces away in the War of Five Kings. They had no qualms with going to war with them. So Robb had at least some sort of army, even if it was small.

The Tullys would be another crucial addition to their numbers. Robb's mother saw to it that they joined them. Her brother Edmuere, who was Lord of Riverrun now, could not afford to let Frey treachery stand in the Riverlands. But there too, numbers were scant. More than one house had declared for House Frey. The Freys had been busy since the war ended, gathering sympathy and Edmuere Tully had largely ignored the rising discontent. The Riverlands was divided against the Starks and the Tullys alike.

"If they think that they can betray the Tullys and the Starks they are sorely mistaken," Robb muttered. "I'll kill every last man involved in this plot."

"If we get Bran and Arya back, we can," his mother replied fiercely. "And if they kill them, we will make them plead for death."

Sansa and Talisa were to stay behind at Winterfell to manage things there, but Robb's mother could not be persuaded to do the same. She was determined, just as with the last war, to accompany him. After all, this was a war against her homeland as much as it was a war against the north. And she would not leave Bran and Arya behind. Not after losing Rickon only a few moons past.

Robb was anxious to leave Winterfell. He was anxious to leave Talisa and the children. Little Ned and Lyanna wouldn't understand why their father was suddenly gone for so long, or why their uncle who had been living at Winterfell for as long as they could remember, was no longer in his chair. Little Ben would be too young to understand anything at all. And how could he begin to explain it to any of them? How could he begin to explain the cruelty of war?

"I'm sorry," Robb told Talisa before they said goodbye. "There was not supposed to be another war any time soon."

"It would have happened eventually. There are always more wars to fight," Talisa grasped his hands in hers. "If not for the children, I would go with you."

Robb looked glanced over her shoulder at where Little Ned was sitting cross legged on the floor, pushing a toy ship across the rug. "I wish I didn't have to go. I keep thinking that...that if I don't come back..."

Talisa shook her head and pulled his lips to hers. They had been wed for five years and still, her lips had not lost their power over him. From the first kiss they shared in his tent all the way to now...their feelings had not dulled or died.

After a long moment, she pulled back and looked up at him. "You will come back," she murmured. "I know you would not leave your children without their father."

My father did not mean to do that either. But he did all the same.

"Papa." Robb felt a tug at his cloak and he glanced down to see Lyanna staring up at him with big brown eyes. "Where go?"

Robb swallowed hard. One day, he would have to explain war to his children. He would explain the cruelty of some men and his duty to fight for his family and his people, just as his father once did. He remembered well when he first truly heard about the War of Five Kings and the destruction Aerys had reaped upon the world. As well as the crimes of Rhaegar Targaryen.

"When two of your family is killed and another taken captive...a man has no choice but to respond in kind. This world speaks a language of violence. So even if you fear war, you must be willing to master it. You must always master your fear in order to do what is right."

Robb had followed his advice, though he had not expected to do so at seventeen. Back then he had imagined going to war past his thirtieth year when he was wiser and understood the world like his father.

He was not supposed to become lord so early.

If Robb died, that would leave Little Ned as his heir. A four year old boy should never have to bare such a burden so early. So he had to come back. There was no choice.

Robb reached down and gently removed Lyanna's hand. "I'm going south. I'll be gone for a little while, but I'll be back." He smiled at her. "I promise."

Lyanna nodded once. She wasn't quite old enough to understand what a 'long time' meant.

Robb bid farewell to the rest of his children. Then gave one more kiss to his wife. As they rode out from Winterfell, he looked back over his shoulder to see her watching from the battlements, along with Sansa. They would manage affairs fine on their own.

He just had to return to them.

They took as straight a path as possible to the Riverlands. With the Frey's in open rebellion, the bridge would be closed to them. Instead they would have to attack from both sides. Robb and the northern army marched south and set up camp on the east side of the river. The Tully forces, meanwhile, sailed to the Cape of Eagles and setup camp in the west.

Seagard, of course, would be the ideal port from which the Tullys could launch their attack, but they were loyal to the Freys. It was not a surprise, Robb supposed. Seagard was close to the twins and the Mallisters and Freys had historically amiable relations.

An attack on Seagard would, perhaps, be a good first course of action. Otherwise, the Tullys could face an attack from two sides and on land and sea. But Walder Frey was not one to meet them in open battle. He would try to outlast them in a siege first, and rely on others to fight for him.

Then again, Walder Frey had struck first blood. If he had taken hostages, he would want to bargain. If he bargained, how could Robb be sure that Arya and Bran were unharmed beside their fingers? Walder was unlikely to play fair.

The debates with his bannermen were long and tedious. Umber, as always, favored direct action: An immediate attack on the Frey walls. The Glovers favored an attack on the Freys allies in order to cut off their possible supports. Edmuere Tully favored patience and a long siege, which would be equally difficult considering the wet winter the Riverlands was currently experiencing. Ice fell often and their men would weaken over time while the Freys stayed safe within their walls.

A notably absent voice was Roose Bolton's. He had sent men to represent him, but had not come himself. Apparently, he had elected to go to the Wall to fight for the north, along with his bastard son. Robb was made suspicious by their absence. But then, if they were in league with the Freys, why send men to the wall?

There were problems coming at Robb from all sides, just like the last war. The wet winter made poor conditions for a siege, his bannermen were constantly squabbling with the Tully bannermen, the common folk in the Riverlands hated the name Stark and Tully and seemed to blame them for their troubles. Multiple foot soldiers were attacked and some murdered when they tried to go to various towns for ale and women. And if the soldiers retaliated against the commoners, sentiment against them only increased.

They were short on man power. They were short on morale. They were short on resources. They were short on time.

There was one family that had the resources and the man power. But even if Tywin Lannister did arrive, the conflict amongst Robb's men would be immeasurable. Walder Frey was their opponent, but even in the peace, his banner men hated the Lannisters. The Riverlands hated them even more. Would they fight alongside them for the greater good?

Robb was wary enough of his bannermen's hatred of the Lannisters that he kept Jaime Lannister well away from them all and in constant disguise. He wore the colors of the north, and a helmet that obscured much of his face (and his golden hair) when he went around camp. The Karstarks would kill him if they knew he was here, after all. But Robb wouldn't very well leave Jaime Lannister at Winterfell when he was not there to watch him. He did not trust the Lannisters that much.

If Jaime Lannister had any plots, he did not make them known. Surprisingly, he was keen to help Robb with strategy after the other lords had left. Robb asked him more than once why he had not ridden back to King's Landing already.

"You are a King's Guard, aren't you?" Robb asked one evening. "Isn't your place by your nephew?"

"My father charged me to escort Lady Arya to Winterfell and to escort her back to King's Landing," Jaime said. "I've only done half of that job."

"There were extenuating circumstances," Robb said. "I'm sure your father would understand."

"Have you met my father, Lord Stark?"

Robb sighed, leaning over the map again. He had stared at this map for hours at a time, waiting for a clear path to present itself. He did not want to rush into a hasty attack that would lose them more lives, but he worried for Bran and Arya the longer they stayed in Walder Frey's hands. "It doesn't explain why you would risk staying amongst north men who loathe you."

"This helmet is actually working quite well as a disguise," Jaime said. "What do you care for my motives? I'm helping, aren't I?"

"Maybe I don't trust your help," Robb said.

"That is fair."

"I know it's fair. So what are your motives?"

Jaime paced around the table, tracing the fingers of his left hand along the edge. "You know...your sister is quite irritating."

Robb glared up at him. "What?"

"Irritating. Stubborn. Very few survival instincts. It's rather lucky that my father likes her so much."

"He owes her a debt, you mean," Robb muttered.

"No. That's not what I mean," Jaime said. "But if we're speaking of debts, I owe her one as well. After I lost my hand I was rather hopeless. You should have seen me, wandering about the castle like a ghost. I wasn't anywhere close to my usual charming self."

"Charming is a charitable word for you, Kingslayer," Robb said.

"Yes, yes," Jaime said. "The point is, I thought there was no point in picking up a sword with my useless left hand. Your sister...well she forced me to start practicing."

"Forced you?" Robb asked.

"Yes, she kept hitting me with a stick. Like I said: irritating." Jaime shrugged. "It would be poor repayment if I left her to the Freys."

Robb regarded him suspiciously. "Since when do you care so much about honor, Lannister?"

"Why is everything always about honor with you Starks?" Jaime asked. "This has nothing to do with honor."

Robb exhaled long and slow, looking down at the map again. "Everything in the north has to deal with honor. And everyone has a different definition of it. It's exhausting."

"Especially in war," Jaime said. "In war, it's dishonor and tricks that win. But you should know that. That stunt you pulled when you captured me. You sent two thousand men to their deaths."

"Shut your mouth," Robb said.

"That wasn't an insult. A compliment really. It was a brilliant move," Jaime said. "You did what you had to do to catch us off guard. The element of surprise gave you an edge in the war even when you didn't have the numbers or the experience. My father didn't know what to do with you because he knew nothing about you and he expected you to fight like your father in the War of Five Kings. Your father wasn't much older than you then, after all. It was an understandable assumption. But you didn't fight like him."

"Well that doesn't help me here," Robb said. "I don't have the element of surprise anymore. I'm a known entity. My strategies are known. My weaknesses are known." Robb looked up at the Kingslayer. "Walder Frey took my brother and sister because he knows I surrendered to Tywin Lannister for the sake of my family. He has been preparing for this day for sometimes. Preparing food for a siege. Preparing hostages for an attack. Preparing allies to attack us from all sides. Preparing for every move I made in the War of Five Kings."

"I suppose you'll have to make new moves then," Jaime said.

"Easier said than done," Robb said. "Any suggestions?"

"Maybe," Jaime said. "But I'm not the strategist. My father is. You'd be better off talking to him."

"He will be a whole new problem to deal with. He has the men we need, but if he comes, how will I keep my men from dissolving into a fight?" Robb asked.

"When he comes." Jaime paced over the table and poured a shallow cup of wine. "That's half the reason I'm here. I received word an hour ago. My father is coming. He'll be here in a few days' time."

Robb sank slowly into his chair. "Why didn't you lead with that?"

"You seemed very anxious."

"Did I? And do I seem relaxed now?"

"No," Jaime approached Robb and handed him the cup of wine "But at least you won't have to deal with me in your camp anymore."

Robb took a long draught of the wine, wishing for it to dull his nerves. "Small victories."

At dawn two days later, when Jaime saw the Lannister flags on the horizon, he stole away from the northern camp with his men and rode to meet his father. He did not want to be amongst the northmen when the chaos erupted. He felt rather sorry for Robb Stark. He was in a bad situation no matter which way he turned.

He discarded his helmet the moment he arrived and was quick to find his father's tent. His father was surveying a map much like Lord Stark's, a steely glint in his eyes. He did not look up when Jaime entered, but he saw him none the less.

"So. How did you come to misplace Arya Stark?"

"Are we truly blaming me for this?" Jaime asked. "There are at least five others you could blame before me."

"I'm not here to blame anyone. I'm here to pay back the Frey's for their defiance," Tywin said. "Tell me what happened, from the beginning."

"There's very little to tell," Jaime said. "The day before we were meant to leave, Arya was with her brother Bran in the godswood. Sometime between the afternoon and the evening, they went missing. The Starks received two of Bran's fingers from the Frey's a fortnight later. We assume Arya was taken with him. We have no way of knowing if they are alive."

"If they bothered to send fingers, they are alive," Tywin said, pacing around the table.

"They didn't send Arya's fingers," Jaime said.

"Yes. They did." Tywin replied.

Jaime was amazed. Were the Frey's truly that stupid? Even if his father did not have a fondness for Arya, such a gesture was an insult he would never let pass. It felt out of character for Walder Frey to behave so recklessly. Had age made him senile?

"Which hand?" Jaime murmured at last.

"Her right," Tywin said.

Jaime exhaled. "Well, that's some good news. She has her fighting hand still."

"She won't get a chance to use it if they are smart," Tywin said. "She's fought her way out of many situations. But she's not invincible. They will kill her if she puts up to much of a resistance."

"She's smarter than that," Jaime murmured.

His father nodded once. "I assume you warned Robb Stark of my arrival."

"Yes," Jaime said. "This is going to cause a bit of...a divide in the northern camp."

"Good," Tywin said. "Not everyone in the northern camp is to be trusted. Chaos will draw out the traitors like poison from a wound. Have the Boltons ridden south?"

"A small group," Jaime said. "It's actually a bit complicated. There are less northmen than usual because many able bodied soldiers left for the wall. Apparently Mance Rayder has an army of one hundred thousand wildlings."

"One hundred thousand? It's unlikely any man could force cooperation from even one thousand wildlings," Tywin said.

"Ned Stark's bastard seemed sure of the number," Jaime said. "Roose Bolton apparently sent a great deal of men to the wall. He went himself, if his men are to be believed."

"We'll investigate that claim," Tywin said. "This is too convenient a time for the northern forces to split in two. I wonder if Ned Stark's bastard has other designs in mind."

"Highly unlikely," Jaime said. "The boy is more like his father than any of the rest of them. Sincere to a fault. And he adores his sister. I think this might be an awful coincidence."

Tywin exhaled and sat at his desk. "Perhaps."

Jaime studied his father. "You don't seem well."

"I'm tired," his father muttered. "Every time I deal with one problem and two rise up in its place. After the War of Five Kings, I was forced to handle Joffrey. Then I had to handle your sister. Now that a more stable king is in place and she is home, the Freys are in open rebellion and the wall is in danger of being breached. By the time this war is over, I'm sure that Dorne will decide to take its turn at rebellion. Or perhaps the Targaryen girl will finally make her journey across the sea."

"Perhaps," Jaime agreed. He was beginning to understand why his father took such a brutal approach to dealing with enemies. He had massacred the Reynes and Tarbecks down to the last child. No one could return for revenge if they were dead. "I wonder father, do you still sleep?"

"Rarely," Tywin said. "I suppose Robb Stark will be riding to meet with me soon."

"Yes," Jaime said.

"Good," Tywin said. "We'll see how willing this boy is to do what is necessary."

A/N: Tywin is still fully willing to crush those who oppose him but also he's getting old and he's tired. He's been putting out fires since he was twenty and it has never really stopped lol. No rest for the wicked I guess.

I'm so happy I get to write Tywin again. I missed writing him. And next chapter is gonna be super fun. It will have some...moments some of you have been waiting for. And a lot of Tywin which apparently you guys like! Until then, REVIEW!