Robb
The eve of battle was upon them. It was a cool night, with the moon clear in the sky, illuminating the world enough at night, while he waited.
Rob had remembered a notion Myrcella had given him, that he take up a guard of his own, as Joffrey had his Kingsguard. At first he had ignored it, but he decided to do it to put her mind at ease, even if she wasn't there.
It wasn't quite what she had suggested though. He kept twenty men, a little more than what she had suggested, and he each that he had chosen was of good birth, along with Greywind. His company was able to serve as noble companions who he could keep with him even when they weren't on the battlefield he decided.
Her favor remained on him as well, a golden and black scarf in the colors of House Baratheon, and the sword that she had found was in a scabbard that hung from his belt.
Riverrun itself was still far out of sight, but they would be there soon. First though, they had to defeat the Kingslayer.
The Whispering Wood was where he and his uncle had agreed that they would fight the Kingslayer, where he would be lulled into their trap easily and destroy whatever guard he had brought with him to pursue the men raiding his camp.
There had been raids against the Kingslayer's camp by the remnants of Lord Hoster's host. It was no more than a few hundred men at a time usually, but most times the Kingslayer rode to personally deal with them, and he hoped that this time would be no different.
That had not been the only blessing in their favor though. He had found that the Lightning Lord, Beric Dondarrion and men from King's Landing had formed a brotherhood of sorts, with a large following. They plagued the Kingslayer's foraging parties and outriders, which along with his uncle's screening had kept the Lannisters unaware of his movements.
Robb was atop his horse, waiting nervously. He could feel his heart beating faster and faster as time passed. He had spoken to men beyond count, jested, listened, and waited. Now he could hear that they were close by.
Greywind stood at his side, ready, while he looked around him. Daemon and Aegon were in his company, and the Smalljon too. Ty and Olyvar were good lads, but the rest Robb hardly knew.
There was Warren Manderly who looked every bit the proper young knight too, hardly as fat as his grandfather, father and uncle, and the Karstarks looked more like true Starks than he did. And the rest were half strangers to him. 'A lord ought to know his men, don't let them die for a stranger,' he remembered his father had told him and Jon once when they were young, and so he had.
Robb had given command of the vanguard to the Greatjon, his staunchest champion, and he had chosen to give the right flank to his uncle, Brynden, while Ser Barristan was given charge of the left. The rear was held by Lord Roose Bolton, while Robb himself held the center.
His uncle had assured him that they would win, but Robb still felt uncertain. Only the battle would be able to prove that.
He had hoped to meet Jeyne at Raventree Hall, but he had learned that Jeyne had gone to Riverrun a little before the siege had begun, and was trapped there.
It made him wonder if he had sent too many of his friends away. Theon and Jon he had sent away, he had left Myrcella and so many others behind at Winterfell and Daemon was half a stranger to him now.
He wondered if this had been what it was like for his father when he was at war. Father had spoken little of what it was truly like during the Rebellion, and most of what Robb had ever learned from what others had told him.
Robb decided that it was best not to dwell too much on that now though, as battle was soon to begin.
And within a few minutes, they were there. Trumpets began to blow, as men began to charge forward. He could see how shocked the Lannister host was, as Robb and his men began to advance forward against the Kingslayer and his host.
Archers hidden in the woods were raining arrows down on their host, while their men were doing far better in battle.
He could hear the sounds of dying men all around him, some calling out to their mother, others begging for mercy, but it didn't matter. They outnumbered the Kingslayer's host quite heavily, and held favorable ground.
The Kingslayer himself was unmistakable, wearing his gilded armor that made him shine, even in the moonlight that illuminated the battlefield. Myrcella's uncle.
Robb and his company began to ride forward towards the thick of battle. He could see all the chaos unfolding around him. He saw the lines of Lannister men all in the valley, and even some of the lines of his own men, lain out below, men doing battle with each other. It made for a strange sight, but it didn't matter, as soon he was dueling a Lannister man.
His armor was green, and he didn't seem to hold any particular heraldry, but he seemed to be a lordling or knight, which puzzled Robb a little. He had managed to slip through Robb's guard too, and he found that to be more troubling.
Their swords clashed together, and Robb could see the man was faster than him, though he was stronger. The knight made several attacks at him, which Robb parried, and the two went back and forth for what felt an eternity, until Robb suddenly gained the upper hand, and was able to strike a blow on the man's sword arm.
It didn't cut through his armor, but it was enough that the man couldn't block him as Robb thrust his sword into a hole in the man's plate in his chest, and he had won. The man fell from his horse, and Robb rode forward.
He looked around. In the chaos of the battlefield he didn't know where he truly was, so he just looked for foes.
Robb was confronted by a common man at arms that he dueled with for not long before he was able to strike a blow that nearly took off the man's head.
Soon another man challenged him, one who wore common red armor that he shared with many others. Their duel was much shorter than the one Robb had with the other man, since he seemed to already be wounded, and before long who he guessed to be Hendry Bracken of his noble company came to aid him, and together they quickly overpowered him, and cut the man down.
With all the noise, Robb wasn't sure of where everyone else was in the field, but he looked around and saw the Lannister lines were mostly failing. For just a moment he made the mistake of thinking he was safe before an arrow whizzed past him, and he realized he wasn't.
He was only thankful that the arrow managed to land harmlessly in the ground behind him, while he looked ahead, watching the battle ahead again.
The Greatjon was leading men fearlessly forward, booming as he killed men, while in the left and right flanks he couldn't see his uncle or Ser Barristan as well, but they had all but collapsed on the Lannister host.
Robb waited for the rest of the battle, though near the end, he heard a familiar voice calling out to him. "Stark!" The Kingslayer shouted. Not a battle cry like Robb's own men were using, but a challenge.
Wolf's Blood remained firmly in his hand, as he spotted the Kingslayer, and saw that he had gathered his retainers and knights and was starting to make for him. He knows the battle is lost, and now he means to kill me, Robb realized, feeling a sense of fear.
He only watched as the Kingslayer and his men were able to cut through a dozen of Robb's men before they had made it to Robb's personal guard, where clashes began.
Almost all of the Kingslayer's host was finished, but Robb knew that this was his final charge, his final chance at winning. All around, men were converging on the Kingslayers retainers and men, while Robb himself soon found himself dueling one of them alongside the Smalljon.
Together they quickly overpowered the man, while Robb spotted the Kingslayer was dueling with several of his guard, all the while he kept shouting Robb's name, calling for him to come.
Robb started to, until he heard the Smalljon call out to him. "No my lord… It's you he wants, and if you should fall…"
Instead he could only watch reluctantly as the Kingslayer cut down what seemed to be three more men, before finally his horse fell out from underneath him, and he was completely surrounded, while the rest of his retainers were cut down or yielded.
It was not long after that the rest of the Kingslayer's host was defeated, leaving Robb to look over a battlefield. I won, he thought to himself, feeling a little excited. He had beaten the Kingslayer in battle.
Robb spoke to various men, praising them for their courage and valor. All around him, men who had yielded were being chained and taken away, and wounded men were being tended to.
He looked, perhaps in hopes that he would find someone that he knew, someone who he had spoken with before the battle, wondering how many men he had come to know had died today, but almost all the corpses he saw were of Lannister men.
After wandering for some time, he came upon Ser Barristan wandering as well. The man had his fair share of blood on him, and even an arrow protruding from his shoulder, but none of it seemed to bother him.
"Ser," Robb greeted when he spotted him.
"It is good to see you lad," Ser Barristan said to him, when he realized who he was talking to. Robb realized he must have had his fair share of blood on him too, and wasn't mounted anymore, so he wasn't so easily recognized, were it not for the men chanting whenever he passed.
"We won," Robb said, a tinge of surprise in his voice.
"Aye. Men will sing of your victory here, my lord. They lost ten men for our every one, and their full force was slain or captured. A victory as great as the Field of Fire, though you did not have dragons as Aegon the Conqueror did. Men will know and respect your name as they do Lord Tywin's," Ser Barristan told him.
As they do yours. "Thank you Ser," he said.
"Ser Jaime was once a brother of mine, I ought to see him for myself."
Robb nodded, and together they began to go afoot to where the Kingslayer was being kept. He could tell because it was where the largest ring of men was being kept, and because he remembered where he had left the Kingslayer before.
"My lord, perhaps it would be best if you don't see him now," Lady Maege Mormont said to him, but he only shook his head.
The Kingslayer had been bandaged and chained. He was covered in blood and dust from the battle, though he still wore his gilded armor. It gleamed in the early morning light, and the dawn seemed almost as red as the blood throughout the valley.
Robb saw Greywind, for the first time, after he hadn't spotted the wolf much during the battle. His mouth was red with blood, and dimly he remembered having seen the wolf kill a man during the battle, and together they entered the circle around him.
"There you are Stark… I looked for you on the battlefield. Thought you were hiding," The Kingslayer said.
"Guard your tongue Ser," Aegon chided the man.
"Do you mean to have my head then?" The Kingslayer asked Aegon. "It was your grandfather who was the King I slew." When Aegon didn't respond though, he turned to Robb. "Or do you, since I tried to kill you?"
Robb wondered if perhaps Aegon held a grudge against the Kingslayer for slaying his grandfather.
"You fought well, Kingslayer, but you lost," Robb said.
"We should kill him," he heard Daemon say. Robb knew that Daemon would certainly wish to avenge his grandfather, and realized he should've looked for him before he had come here.
"No… He is more use alive than dead. Alive he will buy us back my father, and allow us to make peace with Lord Tywin. Dead and he only serves to increase the chance that the Lannister make my father a corpse as well," Robb told them. "Ser Arthur," he called, watching the purple eyed knight step forward. "I will leave you to guard him for the nonce, until we are in Riverrun, and can put him in a cell there.
The Sword of the Morning nodded his head at Robb's command, and Robb left, trailed by most the lords and commanders who had been standing around the Kingslayer, and he spotted some others were approaching.
Some of them were cheering as they followed, but Robb made a gesture and they were silent. "Our battle is not won," he told them. "Riverrun still remains under siege, my uncle a prisoner in the Kingslayer's host. I wish to speak with my commanders in an hour's time. We are marching on Riverrun today."
The men nodded, and some of them started to scatter, though Robb gave a look to his uncle, who followed him.
"It is good to see you are well," the Blackfish told him when they were together. "Your mother would be proud of you… And your grandfather."
"Thank you," he said, nodding. It had been his uncle's work that had truly won the battle, but most left that unspoken.
"Our scouts reported that the Kingslayer had fifteen thousand men laying siege to Riverrun, and he only brought two thousand with him, all his cavalry from his northern camp, while the eastern camp had none," his uncle said.
"But they still have thirteen thousand men," Robb said grimly. "How many men did we lose here?"
"A hundred or two, but not many more," Ser Brynden answered.
"They still have us two to one then, don't they?"
His uncle only chuckled. "Oh to be sure, but don't fret. Their camps are split by wide and deep rivers, and to aid one another they'll need to cross with little warning on their rafts while arrows and rocks rain down on them from the castle above. The Kingslayer had personally commanded his camp, so they will be without anyone to command them, and the west when our men descend on their camp, they will not be prepared."
"Will they know of our approach though?" Robb asked. "Might they have heard the sounds of our battle?"
"Perhaps they will have heard some sounds, but they won't know what happened until it's our banners that return. If the Kingslayer hadn't been sending outriders out before, they will not now, and we made certain that no men fled the battlefield to return to their camps."
"Good," Robb said. He felt more confident they could win now.
"You wanted captives, we have them. We took perhaps a hundred knights captive, a dozen lords and three Lannisters, captive besides the Kingslayer, all Lord Tywin's nephews. Two of them Freys by his sister, and the other one a son of his brother,' his uncle said.
Ty's uncles, he realized. He wanted to feel good about holding them captive, but he only felt worse, remembering how men had encouraged him to use his own squire as a hostage.
Robb decided none of this would matter soon enough. Once they had made peace, what captives he had held would only have little meaning, and they'd all be ransomed or exchanged all the same.
His uncle left him for some time, alone amidst the battle field, and he seemed to lose track of time. Myrcella had pleaded with him to be safe when they had parted ways at Winterfell, and now he was. She would learn soon enough he supposed, but before he could give much thought to her, he had to win here.
After some time his lords gathered around him. His uncle the Blackfish, Ser Barristan, Rickard Karstark, Galbart Glover, Lady Maege Mormont, Stevron Frey, the Greatjon, Roose Bolton and Ryswell, and all the rest.
His uncle had placed a map that he had drawn on the ground, and placed some pieces on it, showing the lands around Riverrun. "At sundown we will descend on the remnants of the Kingslayer's host," Robb announced them. "Until the sun begins to set, remain just out of sight, but we will need some men to cross the Tumblestone."
"How many will be in each camp?" Lord Roose Bolton asked, his cold eyes making Robb almost want to shudder.
"The Kingslayer left only perhaps three thousand in the northern Camp that will be in disarray. The western and southern camps will have five thousand each though." Robb told them. "Half our forces will cross with my uncle in command to attack the Tumblestone, while I will command the half that remains and attacks the Northern camp."
He saw encouraging nods from his lords, which made him feel better. "Lord Rickard, you will command my vanguard."
"Their strength will break quickly enough," Roose Ryswell said. "What of the southern camp?"
Robb hadn't given much though to the southern camp before this, and silently cursed himself for it. "Once we have taken out the camps to the north and east, the camp in the south won't be a threat. Perhaps they will retreat, and if they do, we will pursue them, but we only need to break even one of the camps to lift the siege. Our strength will grow once we lift the siege, and we will be able to make plans from within the castle instead."
He could only pray that his plans would work. But thirteen thousand men didn't seem so intimidating when it was split in three.
Author Notes:
Yeah, so the Battle of the Whispering Wood wasn't too terribly different than in canon. The only difference here is that the Karstark brothers and Daryn Hornwood still survived.
Thanks for reading guys, and as always I do not own ASOIAF.