Chapter 31: The family grows

Jon

They had been marching for just over two days. Their pace had significantly increased, now that all the loot and wounded had left with Robb.

This morning he rode with Lord Flint. His father had thought him that it was important for his men to know their commander. Therefore, he adopted his tactic of rotating the men he ate and rode with every day. As such, he was starting to understand the priorities of all the Northern nobility a lot better.

Lord Flint was, not so subtly, inquiring to him about his prospects after the war. He had just started talking about his idea of "helping Ned's son to look for a wife", when a dust cloud was seen on the horizon. Both stopped talking, as they stood up on their stirrups to get a better look.

Quickly enough, it was clear that it was Ser Brynden returning with some more men at his back. He signaled to his men to stand down, although he kept them close.

It took a few minutes to reach the group of men, as they slowly road towards them. All this time, he was relieved Lord Flint didn't start talking about a possible wife for him again.

When the group finally arrived, he saw how the Greatjon was proudly riding next to Ser Brynden. Although he seemed somewhat restless, as he kept looking over them in search for something, or someone.

"Jon, Lord Flint, it's good to see you." The Greatjon boomed as he nodded to both of them.

"As good as it is to see you again, Lord Umber." He responded cordially. The Greatjon was probably the biggest contestant to his command. He couldn't show any weakness now or he could be in trouble.

"I am sorry for your loss. We will avenge her and make the ironborn pay. Robb swore to it." He said, better to be done with it now. He couldn't let the subject sour relations within the force.

The Greatjon snapped his neck towards him with a scowl. The anger and sadness in his face was clear for all to see at the mention of his daughter. After staring for a while, he replied. "Aye? That's good. That's good. House Umber can always count on the Starks. That's for sure. She was a good and lively little thing, my Allara."

His voice sounded distant while he said it, as he started staring over the horizon. Soon he came back to himself. "Aye, we'll make them pay! Robert Baratheon made a mistake leaving those squids in control of those islands. We won't make that mistake again. I helped capture those islands before under Ned, I can do the same under his son. I will make those rocks burn in a way that the story of 'Rape of the Sisters' sounds like a fucking children's tale." The giant man said as his voice filled again with anger and bravado.

"Aye, we will Lord Umber, but for now we have the Lannisters to deal with." He simply replied. He was glad that the man was still so openly loyal to Robb, even combined with his antics. He and Robb had discussed the possibility that he could be angry with them, as Allara had been under House Stark's guardianship.

"Aye, that's why I'm here. Now if you'll excuse me, I want to see my son. Where is that boy?" The lord boomed. Although it could be perceived as a slight to be dismissed like that, he didn't respond. The man had just lost his daughter and had all the while been separated from his other children. It was only logical he wanted to see his heir at the first chance he got.

He was just about to answer that Smalljon was further back down the line, when he heard a few horses race next to the column behind him. As he turned around, he saw the Umber heir and three of his guards storm towards them.

"Good to see you, father!" Son called towards father with a grin, as he pulled hard on the reins.

A huge smile broke out on the Greatjon's face, as he saw his son was unhurt. The man jumped from his horse, as his son followed suit. The two giants crashed together in a bear hug hard enough to knock even the sturdiest warriors out cold.

"How are you doing lad?" The Greatjon asked.

"Fine, father. I took the news hard, but I let of some steam since." His heir replied with fire in his eyes.

"Aye? You did? The Starks let you?" The Lord of Last Hearth inquired with mild surprise in his voice.

"Aye, they gave me a mission for it. I took out some knightly house that was tampering with our supply and communication lines together with the Mormonts. Safe to say they won't hurt anyone anymore." The Smalljon replied grimly.

"Good, good." The father mused as he stroked his beard. "Mormonts are good folk, that they are. I won't forget that." Then the man turned and looked straight into his eyes. "Won't forget that you gave him something to put his mind off either. I did so myself as well."

He just stared back at the Umber lord. He couldn't say anything in front of the other men, so he just stayed silent.

"How's uncle Rodrik?" The Smalljon asked his father. "He's fine. I gave him control of the force as I rode towards you."

"Did you hear anything from you brother or other uncle?" The Greatjon asked, still clearly concerned about his family.

"Aye, it seems Harmond helped Lord Karstark win a minor victory in Maidenpool. Took out some sellswords or the like. They were back safe at the Twins when they sent word. Uncle Osric stayed there to keep the remaining men in check." His friend replied.

"Your brother won a battle eh? Great! Then we have something to drink to tonight. Now let us discuss the rest along the road, son. Seems like we're holding up an entire army." The giant man grinned as he looked around him.

He clapped his son on the back once more and got back on his horse. They fell in behind all the other nobles, which they greeted quickly before chatting away amongst one another. He'd give them their time together. They would have to be serious again soon enough.

(Five days later)

Jon

He walked outside his tent, after he had donned on his armor. The camp felt empty, as most of the men had already left to take up their positions. He met with his commanders at the front of the camp for a final time to discuss their attack as they looked upon their objective.

The castle of Sarsfield was situated on the southside of the green and fertile valley that dominated the northern Westerlands. To the north of the castle lay fertile plains. House Sarsfield, as made evident by their sigil, was specialized in archers and more specifically horse archers. Usually, these field were used to breed the horses for House Sarsfield's army but now they served as the perfect place for their camp. Besides that, they had captured some of the war horses as well. They would be very useful in the upcoming campaigns.

Sarsfield lay closely along the River Road, which ran from west to east along the castle's southside. Its main gates had been built along the east and west sides of the castle to accommodate easy travel along both sides of the River Road. A smaller, well protected gate also stood on the northside, to ease travel to the pastures over there.

They had chosen to swing around and attack the castle from multiple sides. The Umbers and Mormonts would lead the attack on the northside of the castle, just opposite their camp. They would scale the wall with ropes and makeshift ladders under the command of the Greatjon. The Freys, under Black Walder, would do the same thing on the southside.

He himself would lead the main assault with a ram on the east gate, while the Karstarks and Glovers assaulted the east walls next to the gate to deny the veteran archers a possibility to fire on him and his men and stop their gate from falling.

Ser Brynden was in control of the reserve cavalry and it was his task to be alert to the possibility of any relief forces arriving, although he seriously doubted that possibility.

He talked to all the nobles gathered and when no objections were made to the plan, he tasked everyone to go to their respective detachments. He himself rode to the troops gathered on the eastside. He rode on until he reached the big direwolf banner in the center and dismounted. There he met Lords Flint and the heir to House Slate, who would assist him in his task to capture the gate.

He looked upon the grey granite walls of the castle and inhaled slowly. He waited so Black Walder could return to his men in time for the attack. Above the castle, he saw an eagle fly peacefully and he wished he could have its view. After a few more deep breaths, he closed his visor and gave the order to blow the horns.

The sound of a dozen Northern warhorns filled the valley, as men immediately started marching towards the castle. The sound of hundreds of boots marching quickly replaced the dying toons of the horns. It was an impressive sight and he still couldn't believe that they were under his control.

The wooden ram was brought forth, while Karstark and Glover men ran towards the gates with ropes and ladders of their own. The initial men were welcomed by the defenders with a hailstorm of arrows. Many men fell, but others immediately took their place.

He halted his own contingent of men just outside of arrow range. There was no need for even more casualties. The ram slowly made its way towards the gate, while arrows, stones and other projectiles flew past the attackers pushing it. He saw many a good Northener fall, but the ram never stopped moving.

Soon the Karstarks and Glovers were seen scaling the walls and the sound of clashing steel was soon heard above everything else. The ram inched closer and closer towards the gate. It was clearly being targeted by the defenders, although its rain of projectiles had lessened now that their troops were attacking the walls.

He and his men waited until the ram slowly reached the portcullis, some twenty feet in front of the gate. The defenders had lowered it and soon the clangs of wood on iron were heard. Still his countrymen fell, as the defenders used the murder holes at the gate to full effect.

In the meantime, he saw how more and more men were scaling the walls. It became clear that the Karstarks had managed to capture parts of the wall already and the Glovers weren't too far behind to do the same.

There was nothing he could do for them and his eyes turned to the gates once more. Soon the sound of iron twisting could be heard, as the hardened wooded tip of the ram pounded on it relentlessly. Suddenly, out of a hole above it, boiling oil came down upon the attackers. The screams of the men cut straight to the bone and he shivered slightly. Still other soldiers took their place and the ram was pushed again against the iron bars.

After what seemed like an age, his men got through the thin portcullis and were clearing the twisted pieces of iron from the ram's path towards the main gate. He knew that a possible trap could have been laid in the gatehouse, so he kept his men back for now.

After a while, his men in front had cleared the iron and pushed the ram to the front of the gate. To his horror, he had been right. Another portcullis was suddenly dropped in front of the gate and there the whole story repeated itself again. More boiling oil was dropped upon the Northern soldiers as they positioned the ram. Now they were a little better prepared, having their shields up and being able to jump out of the way. Still, some screams could be heard from the men that had been right below the hole from where it was dropped.

He started to worry, as the ram still hadn't made contact with the gate. He started looking around and saw that the fighting on the walls had lessened considerably, with around half of it having been secured by either Glovers or Karstarks. He suddenly saw how fighting broke out in one of the towers above the gate.

Maybe they can open the gate. He thought hopefully and sure enough he saw how the second portcullis was raised from the inside not long after. Still, the gate remained closed and his men pushed the ram against it for the first time.

The pounding of wood on wood sounded like music to his ears as too many men were already lost in the attack. It seemed like most of the defenders had been cleared out of the gatehouse, as the ram now freely pounded away. Soon the sound of splintering wood was heard, as he and his men waited for the inevitable fall of the gate.

After what felt like an age, a sickening crunch could finally be heard, as the battered doors slammed open. "Forwards men! Attack!" He screamed as he charged at the front.

He ran under the gatehouse, sword and shield in hand, and screamed "For Winterfell, for the North!". The war cry was taken up by hundreds of men behind him as he and Ghost ran through the gate into the courtyard.

He arrived in the middle of a fierce melee, as he saw how the vanguard had clashed with the Sarsfield troops. To his surprise he saw how many Frey soldiers were also pouring in from the left, as they fought their way towards the keep. Ghost ran past him and jumped an unsuspecting Westerlander knight in the back, mauling his neck until his head was severed from his body. All that remained of him, after a few seconds, was the bloodied surcoat with the Sarsfield coat of arms on it.

He ran after his direwolf and cleaved the hand of a guard that had wanted to pierce his companion with his halberd. He followed this up by slamming the pommel of his sword into the screaming guard's nose, before ending him with a slash across the neck.

Hundreds of men came through the gate from behind him and pushed both attackers and defenders towards the keep. He was in the middle of the fight, as he blocked the axe of one defender with his shield and deflected the sword of another with his own.

He slashed his sword up towards his second assailant, hitting him hard across his sword arm. He immediately turned around to block the attacker with the axe but saw how a Frey soldier had stabbed the man through the back.

He turned back towards the other one and launched a quick succession of blows on his shield, before slashing at his knee. The guard fell to the ground and he put him out of his misery by piercing his neck with his blade.

He looked around the courtyard and saw how the Westerlanders were falling like flies. They were simply being overrun. Suddenly shouting was heard from the steps of the keep. He saw an elder knight and a woman next to him, both dressed in Sarsfield colors, scream and soon the remaining defenders laid down their weapons.

"Who is it that leads this force?" The older man asked loudly with authority.

He pushed his way through his men, a thing not too difficult when you were flanked by a direwolf almost the size of a pony. "I lead this force." He shouted out as he got close towards the keep and jumped up the stairs to what was probably the blacksmith.

"May I have your name, my lord?" The elder knight asked.

"My name is Jon Snow, brother to His Grace Robb Stark, King in the North and of the Trident." He responded loudly and the sight of Ghost even silenced the elder man in front of him. "May I have yours?"

"My name is Ser Tyrek Sarsfield, uncle to Lord Jason Sarsfield and castellan of Sarsfield castle." The man responded with a certain pride in his voice.

"Do you surrender, Ser Tyrek?" He simply replied.

"Yes, we do. We surrender, Sarsfield is yours Lord Snow." The knight admitted and he nodded. Seeing Lord Flint in the masses below, he shouted towards him. "Lord Flint have all soldiers that surrender here disarmed and brought to the dungeons. Put a heavy guard on them. Keep the knights separate in the courtyard." The middle-aged lord nodded and started directing his men.

He looked around once more and saw Torrhen Karstark, who had probably come down from the walls to help in the courtyard. "Torrhen, you and Harry will do the same to the remaining defenders on the walls."

As Torrhen left with a nod, he saw the Greatjon arrive in the courtyard with some of his men. "Lord Umber, you secure all the buildings in the castle. I don't want any surprises. Have all the servants searched, confiscate any weapons you may find and make it clear who controls this castle now." The Umber Lord grunted and shouted to his arriving men to start entering the buildings.

Finally, he shouted at the mass of troops in the middle. "Fifty Stark guards with me, all others may rest. You deserved it men, go celebrate your victory!" He shouted, emphasizing the last word. A sound of cheers and shouts of "victory" erupted from the army, as soldiers started walking out.

He waited for a few seconds until some of the Stark guards had joined him, before walking up to the keep. He walked up the stairs to the old castellan. He looked to him and the young timid woman beside him and only now saw that she was clutching a baby in her arms. "Ser, my lady, I promise you that you and your family will not be harmed."

The old knight nodded in thanks. "May I present you to Lady Johanna Sarsfield, wife of Ser Tyland Sarsfield, heir to Lord Jason and her newly born daughter, Cerissa Sarsfield."

"It is a pleasure, my lady." He responded with a slight bow. He knew how much these houses cared for decorum and everything that facilitated a smooth takeover of the castle was worth doing. "Would you be so kind to tell me who else of the Sarsfield family is in the castle?"

"Lord Jason and Ser Tyland are away with Lord Tywin. Lord Jason's remaining young children are inside of the castle with his brother's wife, my daughter and my grandchildren. His brother Ser Melwyn was leading the defense at the gatehouse, while my son-in-law was holding the northern wall." Ser Tyrek responded, grimacing a little at the mention of his nephew and son-in-law leading the troops. He would too, if he were him. The chance that Ser Melwyn was still alive was slim, to say the least. The chance his own son-in-law still lived with the Umbers as opponents was maybe even smaller.

He simply nodded. "If you would be so kind as to show me around the keep and introduce me to the rest of the family?" He asked, although he made it clear that they had little choice.

The Sarsfield knight nodded defeated and gestured for him to follow inside.

(Five days later)

He had called a meeting with his commanders. He was standing around a big round wooden table in the Sarsfield solar with Lords Umber, Glover, Deddings and Flint. The other attendants were the Smalljon, Dacey Mormont, Lucas Blackwood, Ser Brynden Tully, Ryman and Black Walder Frey, the Slate heir and Harrion Karstark.

All looked over the maps at hand, which showed the central and northern Westerlands in detail. He had found them in Lord Sarsfield's rooms and had immediately made good use of them. They showed the area in extraordinary detail and he could only thank the Sarsfields for their existence.

By now the army had rested while the wounded were all treated and recovering well. It was time to plan their next move. He had already sent out small parties to force the surrender of all the small holdfasts less than half a day's ride from the keep and they had all come back successfully. Now the big decisions needed to be made.

"A rider has come from Roose Ryswell this morning. He had been tasked by the King with raiding the entire area from Tarbeck Hall down to the coast. Everything between the river here" he said, as he pointed to the map. "and these mountains. Considering the low number of troops that he had, he did surprisingly well. He managed to get to fifteen miles from the coast. There he was reportedly turned back by a Westerlander force."

"The Westerlanders seemed to have been a combination of Lannisters from Casterly Rock and Presters from Feastfires, just over a thousand men in total. Heavily outnumbered, Roose retreated and only suffered minor casualties in a few skirmishes with their vanguard. He sends worth that he has retreated back to Tarbeck Hall and will march to Ashemark to join Robb when his troops are rested. He has managed to loot many villages, small towns and petty holdfasts along the way and mentions that he has made the Westerlands considerably poorer and our Kingdom considerably richer." He explained.

This was met a number of smiles, as the amount of riches they had gathered on this campaign was becoming a real fortune. "The Lannisters finally march then?" Ser Brynden asked, studying the map with a pensive expression on his face.

"Yes, they probably crossed a bridge here." He said pointing to one of the two bridges north of Casterly Rock. "The position Roose reported wasn't that far from the Rock, so it isn't all that surprising. The Prester support came more as a shock to me, as I would have expected them to be dealing with Dom's raiding force."

At this most men nodded. "Could this leave Lannisport or Feastfires open?" Lord Deddings asked, his intentions clear.

"It could, yes. However, we are in no position to take advantage of it now. Before reaching Lannisport, we still have to go through the keep of House Stackspear at the very least. Leaving them open in our rear to sabotage our supply lines would be suicidal. This will give that force more than enough time to return. Same goes for Feastfires, as we would first need to storm Kayce, to be able to take it." He responded.

Again, most of his commanders hummed their agreement. It gave him confidence, knowing they agreed with his observations.

"What's the plan then? The Greatjon asked gruffly.

He looked again towards the map. "Lord Umber, you and Lord Glover, together with your combined men and those of House Slate will start raiding the last remainders of the River Road. You will go up to the keep of House Stackspear. Your main task is to scout ahead. Try to get as much information about the Lannister army that's building up as you can. His Grace wants their strength assessed before making any moves." He explained, as he looked around the room.

"You'll have close to a thousand men with you, so if you have a chance to surprise the castle and take it, go ahead but it is no priority. However, you are explicitly ordered to never make a move without knowing where the Lannister army is. I don't want you and your force surprised and annihilated against the walls of an unimportant keep like the one of the Stackspear's. Am I clear?" He said as he looked seriously over to the Greatjon. The man just shrugged his shoulders and nodded. Lord Glover next to him nodded dutifully as always.

"The first objective is scouting, the second, as always in this gold infested land, is raiding. So, take all you can and move it here to Sarsfield, before moving it on to Ashemark." He finished his orders. These last words earned him a grin of the Umber giant and his son, while Galbart Glover had a small smile playing on his mouth. Both houses weren't exactly rich, the Glovers even a lot less so than the Umbers, so all coin, food and livestock stolen felt like a small victory to them, he knew.

"In the meantime, Lord Deddings has another mission. I was going through the Sarsfields personal correspondence and I found out that they have a small secluded silvermine in the mountains to the south somewhere. My lord, you are to take three hundred men and take all the silver you can carry with you back here." This earned him another grin from a lord, as Lord Deddings was still eager for revenge after losing his home and his family and the silver could give him the ability to start rebuilding his lands.

"Ser Brynden will take a hundred outriders and go east. He is to scout the Riverroad towards the Golden Tooth. I want all information I can get on House Lefford and its lands. They have lost their lord at the Fords and his only heir is his unmarried daughter. The chance is that the house's hold on its lands is weak and we might be able to exploit it." The Blackfish quickly agreed and promised to get them all the information they needed.

"The rest of us will remain here for another week, before moving back to Ashemark with the army. The King wants to lead the next attack himself. We will take with us all the loot and wounded and leave only a small garrison of men which will join Lord Umber and Glover on their return to Ashemark. You are to burn the castle and make it impossible for them to use it against us in the near future. If you were to take Stackspear's keep you are to do the same." He said as he looked at the two lords to the right of him once more. Both seemed to understand the objective.

"We will all gather at Ashemark. Lords Umber and Glover, as well as Ser Brynden are expected to be back at Ashemark in three weeks. Domeric Bolton, Roose Ryswell and Lady Mormont will also rejoin the main force there with their troops. From there we will strike at another castle under the command of His Grace. Are there any questions?" He finished the plan he had worked out, partially by himself, partially with Robb on the march to the ruins of Castamere.

"Can we expect there to be any more raiding opportunities on the march back?" Black Walder asked arrogantly. His eyes shone with greed, as he was clearly thinking about more Lannister gold.

"Small parties will be sent out to both subdue any remaining Sarsfield vassals to the northeast and start small skirmishes on the border with House Lefford. However, no major targets or gains are to be expected though." He admitted honestly.

The Frey knight nodded, and it was clear that he would ask him for one of the commands soon enough. Ser Ryman's second son was like nothing he had ever seen. The man was a ferocious and capable warrior but a horrible man. Every time he was sent out, stories of horrible slaughter had reached back to him.

Many rumors were said about the man, even by his own kin. If the stories were true, he was bedding half the Twins. Allegedly, even the wives of his brothers and multiple of his cousins weren't safe from him and many of his kin hated him almost as much as they feared him because of that.

He ended the meeting and grabbed himself a glass of wine as all others left. It was an arbor gold, from a very nice vintage. It seemed the Sarsfields had expensive tastes. They had opened two of the barrels for the commanders after their victory and there was still some left. The other ones would be lifted on crates and moved with the rest of the loot.

He sat down in a chair as he drank deeply from the wine. He appreciated the taste, as it entered his throat. Robb never told him commanding would be so draining, he thought with annoyance. Still, he was happy with himself. He had done what he had to and was laying the foundations for the next step. What that step was, was for Robb to decide.

(More than two weeks later)

Robb

The bulk of his army had returned yesterday afternoon. The Ryswells and Mormonts had arrived earlier and soon his army would soon be complete again. They were only waiting for Dom and Lords Glover and Umber now.

The reunions in the force had been hearth warming, especially the one between Dacey and her mother. It was the first time they saw each other after getting the news of what happened to Lyanna.

The reunions he had looked most forward to were between himself and his brothers, by marriage or blood. Jon had done very well. It had been a difficult assault, but he managed to get the castle. He also discovered another silver mine and looted it and brought with him some looted livestock.

The vaults in Ashemark were overflowing and he didn't know what to do with it anymore. He had ordered the loot to be counted and they had come to the conclusion that they had almost two million golden dragons worth in gold, silver, trinkets and wine here now. To that sum you still had to add a huge amount of livestock and the loot now being brought with the different army groups.

He had already fantasized what could be done with that amount of coin. He could finish his father's plans with it. Build out the road system across the whole North, even to the wall. He could start rebuilding Moat Cailin when they got it back from the ironborn. Maybe he could even think of building a keep on the west coast to protect the Stony Shore or Sea Dragon Point.

However, he knew he had to temper his expectations. Most of the coin would need to go to rebuilding the Riverlands and paying for the army. The remnants would need to be split amongst his vassals as well but that wasn't a bad thing. It would allow the North to better prepare itself for the coming winter and allow more people to survive it. His father had always been clear that winter, and the loss of people that it brought with it, was the biggest threat to Northern prosperity.

More people needed to survive to repopulate and strengthen certain areas like the Gift, the Stony Shore or the territory around Moat Cailin. All information indicated that, due to the unusual long summer, there had been an unusual high birth rate and survival rate for children the last decade. If he managed to enlarge the North's food import and places for shelter, he might be able to save most of this generation and put those children to good use in later years of his reign as they came of age.

That were all things his father had been laying the groundwork for. He had even started with Moat Cailin, by establishing it as a supply post and allowing some small settlements nearby. The ironborn had destroyed it all though and by plundering and murdering they had also further depopulated the western coast. It would need a lot of work and take multiple decades but, together with the years of planning his father had done, he thought he could maybe start to change the situation for the better, due to the funds he got here.

This and more had been constantly on his mind this last month and he had discussed much of it with Os, who had stayed behind as castellan of Ashemark. It seemed that Os had a real talent in stewardship and he was a great help to him in discussing his ideas.

He had also spent a lot of time with Roderick Dustin, his very distant cousin of some sort. Roderick knew a lot of the trade and roads within the North. His family's business focused on trade between Barrowton, Ryshall, Torrhen's Square and Flint's Fingers and he told him much of the roads, towns and villages that lay in between. He had also talked very enthusiastically about what his father had been doing in Moat Cailin. He said it had even given even the incentive to start thinking about more trade between White Harbor and Barrowton. He was determined to reimplement everything his father had done and more, right after they got rid of the ironborn.

Be that as it may, they needed to win a war first. The last week he had spent dozens of hours above maps, books and scout reports about the Westerlands. When he had heard that Jon had sent Ser Brynden and the Greatjon to scout out the Golden Tooth and Lannisport, he had smiled. His brother knew he was still undecided about where to attack and he was gathering him more information to make his decision. Together with Dom's report from Kayce and Feastfires, he would have more than enough to decide upon their next plan.

Harry and Torr had also outdone themselves. The latter even leading a small raiding force of his own for a few days on their return march.

It was those three people, his brothers, that disturbed his thought process when they entered. He had invited them to spend some time together, as he had missed their company. He also wanted their opinions in private, on the campaign but also the home front and the Tywin Lannister situation.

They sat at a small table together, as Ghost and Grey Wind lay next to the fire crackling in the hearth.

They talked for over an hour about many things, from childhood stories to intricate political situations. Harry had been very interested in the situation of House Hornwood, while Torr made them laugh multiple times with anecdotes from when they were younger. Jon talked about the difficulties of his own command and the things he had noticed among the nobles. It was one of the nicest afternoons he had had in weeks.

This all changed, when a knock on the door was heard. "The Maester is here, Your Grace. A letter has arrived from Winterfell, he says." One of his trusted guardsmen called out.

"Let him in." He responded, eager for news from his wife and family. The bald, aging Maester entered and looked around the room to his companions. After a second or two, he bowed and handed him the letter. He thanked the man but waited until he had left before breaking the direwolf seal. He had learned too much about the Westerling Maester to fully trust others here in the west.

'To King Robb, to my husband', he read at the top of the parchment. The letters were written in the clear handwriting of Maester Luwin, but the words were clearly from Alys. This confused him, had something happened that she couldn't write anymore? He quickly read on, trying to make sense of this observation.

I dictate this letter to Maester Luwin, as I am sadly unable to write it myself. I am still bedridden after giving birth to our beautiful child three days ago. The birth was long and difficult, but I pulled through and I am recovering perfectly.

I send this letter to inform you that you are a father now, Robb. You are a father to a beautiful and healthy baby girl.

She has grey-blue eyes, which your mother informs me remind her of your uncle Benjen a bit. Her hair is brown in color, although in certain light a reddish shine can be seen in it. Her face is long, like mine, your father's and Arya's. She is everything we could ever hope for and more.

Her length and weight are average and the Maester informs me she is a perfectly healthy baby.

I have named our daughter Eddara, after your father and my brother. I hope you agree on the name, as we hadn't discussed any. I wanted to honor the people we both lost and that we miss every day.

Your family seems to love both her and the name. Your mother dotes on her granddaughter and her birth seems to have rejuvenated Lady Catelyn. Sansa cares for 'her little niece' as everyone would expect but it is Arya who surprises everyone. Your little sister seems to almost always be in Eddara's presence now that's getting better and Nymeria is as protective of her as of Arya herself.

Bran tells me it is because our daughter shares the Stark look, like Arya, and that she feels connected with her because of it. Your brothers visit Eddara every day. Bran has started to tell her stories already, although it seems Rickon likes them more than she does.

We all miss you and when you come home, both your girls will be waiting for you.

Your loving wife,

Alys Stark, Queen in the North and of the Trident

He stared at the paper as he read the words again and again. I am a father. I have a daughter and she is named … Eddara. The emotions that washed over him were like something he never felt before. From the corner of his eye, he saw a tear drop upon the parchment. Was he crying? He just stared at the words, over and over again.

Suddenly, he was pulled back to his surroundings as he felt Jon's hand on his shoulder. "What is Robb?" He asked him.

He looked at him, tears clouding his sight. "I … I am a father now." He almost whispered, but it was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. He felt something along his side, and as he looked down, he saw how Grey Wind was hugging him. When he looked into the direwolf's eyes, his companion understood. He could swear the wolf looked happy for him, as he licked his hand.

"A father? Did Alys give birth? How's she? Is everything good with her and the baby?" Harry, the concerned older brother, immediately fired questions in rapid succession. He could only nod, as he handed his brother-in-law the letter. The Karstark brothers read through it, while Jon hugged him fiercely. "You will be a great father, Robb. Your child will grow up healthy and surrounded by family." He comforted him. "Is it a boy or a girl?" His brother asked in his ear, neither of them loosening the hug.

"A girl", he responded. He felt his brother smile. "That will obviously please your mother and Sansa, but who knows maybe she'll be a little she-wolf like Arya." His brother said and his grin was clear. "She looks like you and Arya, apparently." He responded, the words sounding far away.

Jon pulled back slightly so he could look into his eyes. "She looks like father then …" He nodded and said, "There is more, Jon. Alys called her Eddara."

They just looked at each other in silence, before his brother nodded with a sad smile and hugged him again. "He would have loved that, Robb. He would be so proud of it."

Both stayed like that for a while, as Jon and Ghost joined in next to them and they petted their wolves. When they finally broke free, he turned around. He looked to the Karstark brothers and both smiled sadly to him. His daughter was also called after the brother they had lost, a man he had always considered his own brother.

He hugged both Harry and Torr and after another heartfelt moment between them. Harry called out, "This deserves a toast. To Princess Eddara Stark, the first of Robb's and Alys' many many many children." He said loudly, as he winked at him at the end.

"Aye, it does. A toast would be welcome." Jon said from behind him. "Aye," Torr joined in.

He opened the door with a smile and the guards looked weirdly at him. Then he realized his eyes were still full of tears. He laughed it off and asked the man. "Beric, bring us the best wine you can find in this damned castle and some cups to go along with. While you're at it, get some cups for you and Wyndal here too. There is cause for celebration."

Surprised the guard, Beric, looked at him. "Celebration, Your Grace? What are we celebrating?"

"I'll tell you when you come back with the wine, unless you don't want any luxurious wine to drink?" He laughed at the man.

The guard raised his eyebrows a little, before grinning. "Already on my way, Your Grace." The veteran soldier said, as he turned around with a small bow and walked with great strides towards the direction of the wine cellar and the servants.

He looked to his left at Wyndal and smiled at the guard. "Thank you for your generosity, Your Grace." The soldier said with a genuine smile. "Call on me when Beric arrives, I'll tell you what we're celebrating then." He responded with a chuckle, as he turned around and shut the door again with a smile.

"Sharing our expensive wines with the guards now, Redstark?" Torr teased him but he laughed it off.

"They have almost as much to celebrate as we do, little brother. Their princess has been born. The first princess born in the North in three hundred years." Harry said meaningfully, as he clapped his brother on the shoulder.

He looked strangely at Harry after those words. He knew them to be true, but it still surprised him. The first princess born in three hundred years … He just had to make sure it wasn't the last.

He thought back on the letter and on Winterfell and fear started to creep up on him. What if the ironborn returned? What if any of his enemies got to Winterfell? What would happen to his daughter then?

Grey Wind immediately noticed his discomfort and trotted over towards him. He nuzzled his head in his chest and he grabbed it gratefully, as the wolf soothed some of his fears. He squatted down and let the wolf lick his head and nuzzle his face. It seemed that Ghost had also noticed it as he slowly walked over towards him with Jon.

He looked up towards his brother and simply asked. "Is it worth it Jon? Is it worth it fighting this war and getting them in danger?"

Jon looked at him and sighed. "Yes, yes it is Robb. If we don't win here, we'll never be safe. Tywin Lannister will never forget what we did here. We need to end him and his cause or your daughter will never be safe. None of us or our families will ever be safe if Tywin or his spawn remain in power. We need to finish this, and it is the just thing to do. They put their incest bastard on the throne, killed father and many other innocent people. We need to bring them to justice."

He looked up at his brother once more and nodded, Jon was right. He would end Tywin and go home to meet his daughter. No one would come between that meeting, he decided. He had to survive and win this war so he could go home to his family and he would.

He hugged both wolves for a while more, as Ghost had joined his brother in helping him. When a knock on the door was heard, he stood up and thanked Grey Wind and Ghost for their support. He also promised them a big piece of meat later and both seemed to like that.

He walked up to the dark wooden doors and opened them wide. Beric stood there with a big smile. He had brought a servant along with him and they carried three bottles of arbor red and six glasses. He thanked the westerlander servant and let him go on his way, as he and Torr behind him accepted the bottles.

He looked over them, they were from a very old and expensive vintage. Good, the occasion called for it and better he drank it than the Marbrands. He opened the first bottle and poured the six glasses out. He gave two of them to his loyal guards and Torr gave the others one as well.

He raised his glass slowly. "To what are we drinking, Your Grace?" Beric asked.

He looked meaningfully at his guard, who was probably having the best guard duty of his life. "We are celebrating the birth of my daughter, Princess Eddara Stark." He smiled, as he tasted the sound of the name in his mouth. He decided he liked it. Both guards looked stunned at him, before grinning widely. Both had served under his father and were fiercely loyal to his house and they seemed genuinely happy because of the news.

"Aye, I'll drink to that Your Grace." Wyndal said respectively as he slightly lowered his head. "To the Princess!"

"To the Princess!", all of his friends said in chorus and they drank heavily. The wine was dry but very good and he let the taste savor in his mouth. He was a father now. He said to himself, as the truth finally started sinking in.

This is all for this chapter!

We see a House Umber reunion and a continuation of the Westerland campaign. More and more Lannister vassal are damaged and more loot is made from it.

Jon comes into his own as a commander and scores his first big victory. You can also see how he starts operating on his own, always with the aim of helping Robb's plans. Robb himself finally heals and is ready for battle once more. Where he will lead his army to will remain a mystery for now.

Most importantly, a new Stark is born. The North has their first royal birth since before the Conquest and, through Robb's deeds and Alys' her family, she is seen as one of their own. This will be a huge hoost to the army's morale, a boost from the homefront it always needed but never got in canon. Eddara might also start the slow process of healing for the Stark family after Ned's death.

Please let me know of your thoughts on it.

Fannic

Reviews:

- Kingmaneana: The Umbers are definitely mad. Theon (and the rest of the Greyjoys) have a sworn enemy now. However, their revenge is a long ways off. The North has no fleet in the Sunset Sea and they still have to defeat the Lannisters first, as well as rid the ironborn from their own lands before thinking of invading theirs.

- George Christian810: Thank you! Yes, the rapes happen of course. I didn't think it would be something that would be discussed when not present, so I left it out.

It is clearly stated in a Victarion Greyjoy chapter that many ironborn chose to armor lightly because of the danger of sinking. That's where I get my inspiration from.

It is true there are some questionable things in Asoiaf, chief among them the taking of Winterfell. Even so, I think you're overly harsh.

The thing is it doesn't matter. This is Asoiaf fanfiction and straying from canon because it would make more sense historically instead of the snowball effect I created is not done. I can't just change things because they would be more logical if the characters developments don't allow for the change. The canon is always the base material, flawed or not. Otherwise I could just change every variable I want, which would be stupid in my opinion. Still, I agree with you to a certain extent but it wouldn't be logical to stray from it either way.

- Greatazuredragon: Yes, some of those families are mad! Still, they aren't mad with the Starks so the internal dynamic isn't too dangerous anymore from now on. Thank you for the support!

- Angeluszuko-z: They might be, although they certainly don't realize it and it won't be for a long time. The Umbers and Mormonts will have to bide their time for now. Those other consequences will be seen later on! ;-)

- Supremus85: Well me too, but this is a medieval-like society in war. Things are just brutal ...

- Fahri Uchiha: Thank you!

- Tom123asdf: No, that just isn't possible. Even though Jon is a rising star, he is still the landless bastard brother of Robb while Ser Edmure is the second strongest man in Robb's kingdom (actually Hoster, but Edmure takes his place). Without Edmure, Robb could lose the Riverlands. He has to publicly praise him or else morale will fall apart and Jon can't go against him. Still, because of Jon's rising fame, it will be more and more difficult for Edmure to confront Jon too. Jon is becoming a name that Edmure can't just insult anymore, nor would Robb let him. They'll have to walk on eggshells around each other.

- ArchPsion: The plan was made AFTER Renly died and Stannis started marching on the capital. By that time, Robb was already in the Westerlands. He couldn't risk sending the news to Riverrun, as riders and ravens could be intercepted and his battle plans falling into enemy hands would be a disaster. Edmure had been told not to engage and stay in Riverrun, although that was originally only meant for not advancing on Harrenhall. Robb hoped/believed Edmure to be loyal and smart enough to keep to command until otherwise ordered. Edmure isn't. He wants glory and to prove himself but Robb should've known this. It was bad people management really, that's all but Robb couldn't do much about it without risking everything falling into Tywin's hand (through for example House Lefford). Edmure also isn't the commander of the eastern flank that's Rickard Karstark here (Roose Bolton in canon), Edmure is more in the middle.

- Force Smuggler: Yes, it is ...

- Osterreicher97: Yes, ... He is becoming a much harder and more pragmatic leader. If the situation requires harsh measures, he will implement them even if he doesn't like it.

- Poly19hum: Thank you so much! This command made my day :-)

- Wolflord456: Beric Dondarrion and Edric Dayne are captives of the Iron Throne. They will be used against Houses Dondarrion and Dayne (and Dorne) for raising their forces. You can expect those houses to be absent from Stannis Baratheon and Doran Martell's armies because of it.

The Three-eyed-raven plot is directly connected to the Others. Cutting one out would mean cutting out the other. I will soon make a decision on that.

- Guest1: Wow!

- Guest2: Thank you! Here you see Jon rise further and he isn't at his peak yet.

Robb did indeed. The Greatjon definitely needs a scolding, although it isn't Jon's place to do so. When he returns to Ashemark, Robb will need to have a talk with him.