Jon

The road south had been long and hard. They had been marching along the Kingsroad with a host of almost nineteen thousand men, but it had proven troublesome with the Green Fork as flooded as it was, and the rains had made much of the ground into soft mud.

Worse was that they had yet to even catch wind of the Lannister forces. Ser Addam Marbrand's outriders had managed to mask everything more than half a day's match south of the Stark forces, and Jon had too little cavalry to risk anything in an attempt at reprisal.

Two days past had been the worst day, when of the hundred outriders that had gone out, only a little more than fifty of them had returned, and many of the corpses of the rest they had found when marching through the next day.

But as little as he wished to commit to using the rest of his meager cavalry, he knew that he needed to try to have eyes on the Lannister host. They still had little on the amount of men that Lord Tywin had in his host, or where Lord Tywin truly was, which had made this much more difficult.

It almost made Jon miss Robb's uncle, the Blackfish, even if he had been cold towards Jon. He was a well-seasoned man, and capable, who had done a far better job at masking their movements and host than Robett Glover had managed.

Jon hoped that perhaps if they captured Ser Addam Marbrand, who they had learned was in command of the Lannister outriders, that it would make things better. A man who seemed to be of high birth and wore the Marbrand arms had been spotted several times by his men, but they hadn't been able to engage with him yet.

Lord Jorah Mormont had urged him to commit his vanguard to the fight to break through the Lannister screen, but Jon had refused, fearing that Lord Tywin and his host would descend on them if they did. Yet Jon had come to rue his choice, wishing that he had.

News of his blunders had mercifully not yet spread amongst the men, but within his command tent it was well known, and they all had their own ways of questioning him with it.

Hosteen and Aenys Frey were by far the worst he had found, but the rest cut deep as well. Lord William Dustin and Halys Hornwood seemed to think he needed every basic element of strategy explained to him, and Robett Glover and Harwood Stout were always quick to give skeptical glances whenever he gave orders. Jorah Mormont said little about it, but his council always ringed in Robb's head when they were together. The Ryswells and Harrion Karstark at least always were willing to obey him without protest, though often with hesitation.

Jon wondered how many of his lords he could truly trust. Ser Wylis Manderly showed little distrust in Jon, but he figured that was because the man had been given command of the baggage train, and wished to wed his daughter to him to curry favor with Robb and Lord Eddard.

He supposed he should be thankful that he had the Greatjon's brothers with him. The Greatjon had proven to be Robb's greatest champion, and his two brothers that were with him, Osric and Cregan had not questioned his actions. Would that I had more of them, Jon wished, but he knew such thoughts were folly.'

The only man that he had come to trust in his camp was not even among them, Ser Oswell Whent. He had been one of Prince Rhaegar's companions, and remained at the Tower of Joy. Though Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur Dayne had chosen to go west with Daemon, Ser Oswell insisted on going south with Jon.

Ser Oswell claimed it was because he was a Whent of Harrenhal, but Jon was certain it was because of him.

Jon had kept private council with the one time knight of the Kingsguard, but had not put him amongst his council and commanders, seeing how ill the others had taken to have two Freys amongst them, even with the men they provided. Another southerner who brought no men with him would be too much.

He knew he had to make do with what he had, as he turned his focus to the present, when the last of his commanders entered his tent. "Is there any news from the outriders?" Jon asked. He did not think it likely there would be much good.

"Yes," replied Rickard Ryswell, the second of Lord Rodrik Ryswell's sons, who Jon had given joint command of his outriders along with Robett Glover after the disaster. "We lost another six today. Three were found strung up from trees, two died in a skirmish, and one died from an infected wound. Two more failed to report and I fear the worst."

Jorah Mormont began to speak. "I understand that any information we can discover about the Lannisters is valuable, but this is surely too high a price. If we continue to lose outriders at this rate we will have none left in a few days."

"Be that as it may," William Dustin replied. "We cannot proceed blindly. If we have no knowledge of the Lannister host's position, we will be caught in the dark." The Lord of Barrowton had been one of father's men that had traveled with him to recover Lyanna at the Tower of Joy, Jon remembered. He was certain the man knew who he truly was, but Lord William had given little indication that he did.

"How many outriders, proper outriders, not drafted freeriders, are left?" Ser Wylis Manderly asked.

"Two score at most," Jon replied. Would that I had two hundred, and Ser Addam or the Blackfish commanding them instead, he thought. Robett Glover and Rickard Ryswell were capable enough, but they couldn't hold their own against the likes of Lord Tywin he had quickly learned. "We cannot keep sustaining these casualties, nor leave ourselves blind."

"Then what will we do?" Asked Lord Halys Hornwood.

"From now on, when our outriders depart, they will travel only half as far as they did." Jon announced to them.

"It will make little difference," replied Harwood Stout, "Marbrand will still set upon them, as before, perhaps less will die, but we will still lose them, and gather even less information."

I know that, he thought to himself a little angrily. He had grown a little resentful towards the lords for not showing even the least bit of trust in him. "That is not all… Lord Jorah had suggested we engage with Ser Addam's screen with the Vanguard, and I mean to."

"We will be blind then!" Said Aenys Frey, incredulously. His eyes were red like Ghost's, but Ghost seemed to like him the least of all the commanders there.

"No more than we are now Ser," Jon said back. Lord Tywin could descend on them with his host if they did, it was true, but Jon knew they would be ready to face such a force, and they would have to go into battle blind regardless. He hoped Lord Tywin would be caught off-guard by it at least.

"When will we strike?" Harrion Karstark asked. He was the heir to Karhold, a man of two and twenty, whose father and brothers had gone west to Riverrun with Robb, and was in command of the most men in their host save for the Freys.

Jon paused for a moment, considering the possibility. They couldn't attack tonight, as much of the host was still asleep now. "On the morrow," Jon finally decided. It would be best to attack as soon as they could though.

He could only brace himself for what came next, when all the men in the tent began to speak their concerns at once. Jon thought to allow them to quiet down on their own, but before he could, he heard a horn blast.

"Lannisters?" Asked Roger Ryswell.

"Our outriders to the south had not reported Lord Tywin approaching," Robett Glover said, a little defensively, as though the lord were being questioned.

"It's not Lord Tywin," Jon said, realizing where the horn had been blown from. "Unless he got north of us somehow."

Before they had split their host, Robb had been posting outriders in all directions, even to the North, but with how few he had, and with the inability to spare men not dealing with the Lannisters, Jon had rarely sent men in that direction. Now he wished that he had though.

He and the other lords began exiting the tent to see what was the matter, and he saw all around them the host was stirring. His tent was in the heart of the host, which meant if someone was attacking it would take some time for them to reach him, but even so, he felt his heart starting to race.

Jon noticed what the matter was to the North, with hundreds, perhaps thousands of men, riding into their camp. Thankfully they didn't seem to be attacking, but he still wasn't sure what to make of them.

However it was though, Jon knew he ought to remain where he was, and be ready for the commander of this host, who would no doubt be looking to see him. His silk tent had a white direwolf's head sewn into it, one of the only ones in the camp.

He waited near the tent for some time, as the moon grew higher in the sky, and more of the stars came out. The host took some time to sort itself out, as most of these new men began to set up tents in his camp, while Jon eventually spotted men coming to his tent.

After some time, he decided it would be best to greet them inside the tent with the rest of his commanders, to meet who this new force was from.

When the flaps to the tent were pushed open, a man stepped in that Jon didn't know, escorted by several northmen. "Here he is, Ser," one of the northmen said as they left.

"I had thought to find the Young Wolf here… Where else could he be?" Asked this stranger addressing him.

Jon wasn't sure how much he could trust this man, or how to answer. But if this man who he guessed to be of House Belmore from the arms on his surcoat didn't know that they had, he took it to be for the better.

"He's not here," Jon told him.

"Might I ask where he is… I suppose I forget my courtesies. I am Ser Marwyn Belmore, my lords, heir to Strongsong." The knight said.

"Well met ser, I am Jon Snow. But it is best not you ask where my brother is," Jon said.

The man nodded. "Your father is a friend of mine… When my father and I heard what had happened, we knew we had to come at once. I gathered a good deal of our strength, and rode west through the Mountains of the Moon to join with your host."

"You have my thanks then," Jon answered. "How many men did you bring?"

"A thousand knights, all mounted and seasoned. Most of them fought alongside your father in Robert's Rebellion," Ser Maryn told him.

"Good," Jon said. He felt some relief knowing that he had a thousand more men, and even better that they were all mounted. But it also meant he had more men in his command that were strangers to him, and would have little trust in him.

There had been two other heirs to great houses in the Vale who had come to Winterfell after Robb had called his banners he remembered, Ser Morton and Ser Mychael, and Lord Eddard had been fostered with Jon Arryn in his youth. He wondered if there would be others. "You traveled through the Mountains of the Moon though? Not through the Bloody Gate and the High Road?"

"Aye," Ser Marwyn said. "The Bloody Gate and the High Road are many leagues south still, and Lady Lysa refused to send men to war, which left that as the only way."

Jon nodded. He supposed it might have been good if Lady Lysa had sent men that would be able to take Lord Tywin from the south, but if Lady Lysa was refusing to send men, then that meant they wouldn't be getting aid from there. Their only hope would be for other lords in the Vale to send men on their own, or for some of the Riverlords further south to march on Lord Tywin to take him from the rear.

"It is good to have you here Ser," Jon said, trying to be as courteous as he could. "Perhaps you should get some rest before our march tomorrow."

"Aye, thank you," Ser Marwyn replied.

Jon turned to the rest of the commanders in the tent. "We're done here," he told them, and the men all knew what to do. Most of them were already showing signs of being tired he could see, and if it should come to battle on the morrow, he wanted them to be better rested.

They all filed out of his tent, and Jon quickly changed into some nightclothes and laid down to fall asleep.

He thought about Jeyne before he fell asleep, wondering where she was now. Are you safe behind the walls of Raventree Hall still? Have you seen Robb yet?

Thinking of her was how he had been able to sleep ever since he had made it back to Winterfell, and he felt angrier more than anything. To know that she had been so close, if Robb had only allowed him to go west.

Instead, he had been given command of a large host that looked down on him for being a bastard, and took poorly to any mistake he made.

Jon had been telling himself for days though that the war would be over soon. Once their battles had been won, peace could be made, and he could go to her, but he was still mad at Robb for it.

He found himself drifting off to happier dreams, where he and Jeyne were still at Winterfell. Lord Eddard was there too, though he was walking with a cane, and when Lady Catelyn looked at him and Jeyne, there wasn't any trace of malice.

A little further off he spotted Robb and Myrcella together with a babe that he could only guess to be their son, and the rest of the children he had grown up calling brother and sister.

Arya came to him giggling after she had done something to Sansa, and Jon mussed her hair as he always did, before she spoke with a boy's voice. "Wake my lord… Wake up…"

Jon woke to find a familiar lad's face looking at him. It was Cregan Dustin, who he had agreed to take on as a squire after he had been named the commander of the host going south by Robb.

"What… What is it?" Jon asked groggily. "What hour is it?"

"The sun hasn't yet risen, but there's something you have to see," Cregan told him.

Despite how tired he was, Jon managed to get up, and he quickly dressed himself. When they finished, Jon left the tent with the heir to Barrowton, and followed him throughout the dark camp.

The moon was almost full tonight, and helped to light up the entire camp, enough that they didn't need a torch.

Jon didn't have the faintest idea where they were going, but he did, and so they went until finally the lad stopped. "What is it?" He asked, but he saw there was a man in irons sitting on the ground in front of them, wearing rich burnished and bronze armor, with a grey cloak.

He was a comely man, with copper red hair that ran down to his shoulders, and there was a shield that lay not far from him, that had a orange burning field on a smoky grey field.

"Who…" Jon started to ask, before he realized who it was.

Author Notes:

So that's that for this chapter.

I had to cut the Battle of the Green Fork due to budgetary reasons, which means that our next time we see Jon shall be after the battle (JK, it's just cause I kinda suck at writing battle scenes, and with us seeing the Battle of the Whispering Wood a little more vividly than in canon, I decided not to show the Battle of the Green Fork).

But yeah, you'll notice there's a few more men in Jon's host than in canon, even prior to the Belmore arrival, but this is mostly because William Dustin brought a few more men than before.

Our next chapter is back with a certain pregnant Princess at Winterfell.

Thank you guys for reading, and for all your feedback. Seeing your guy's critiques and encouragement always makes my day, so please keep it coming.

There is one person out of over seven billion who owns the rights to ASOIAF, and I am not that one person.