Three battles were fought at Darry before the Knights of the Vale could sweep the Royal Army aside and take the castle. By the time the army of the North arrived, most of the damage sustained during the siege had been repaired. But there was no time for a happy reunion since messengers brought news from the South. After a series of inconclusive skirmishes, Robert had met the army of the Reach at Ashford. The battle had been a draw, but the superior numbers of House Tyrell forced him to concede the day. Randyll Tarly harassed them for miles, forcing Robert to abandon much of the baggage train and all who could not keep up the pace of their retreat.
The Riverlands should have been a safe refuge since Lord Tully had not declared for the Mad King. However, the remnants of the Royal Army had regrouped at Sow's Horn. Reinforcements, led by the Hand of the King, bolstered their numbers and Jon Connington was eager to prove his worth. At Tumbler's Falls, he checked Robert's retreat and forced him west. They met again at Stoney Sept. The Stormland banners needed to rest after weeks of marching and the small city was the best place they could have reached. With ten thousand men, they were considerably outnumbered, yet with proper supplies they could have held for months. But Stoney Sept had been surprised by the return of the winter in the Year of the False spring, its stores were empty and now had to feed three times as many people.
Jon Arryn and Eddard Stark took their horse and rushed towards Stoney Sept, hoping to relieve Robert before royalist reinforcements arrived. At Lychester they learnt that the retreat had become a siege and picked up another three hundred riders as Lord Lychester declared for the rebels. They rested a day at Acorn Hall; Lord Smallwood was sympathetic to their cause but unwilling to commit to a side before his liege did.
A fortnight later Jon Connington woke to the sound of horns as the relief force was spotted five miles to the east of his siege lines. Men grabbed swords and spears as their outriders were swept away. The Hand of the King managed to bring order to the chaos and form a wall of death, daring the rebels to charge into their doom. It was at that moment the gates of Stoney Sept opened and Robert Baratheon marched out.
Even faced with foes on two sides, the Royal Army outnumbered the rebels by a wide margin. However, the siege had been tedious, with neither side prepared for its hardships. Three times the Loyalists had taken the walls, and three times Robert Baratheon reclaimed them at the cost of half his army. That more than anything else prompted Jon Connington to charge the sallying forces. Intent on decapitating the Rebellion once for all, he sought out Robert, but their clash of arms proved him to be the lesser warrior. Lord Darry attempted to take command, to avenge the loss of his home, but all he achieved was to spread the word that their commander had been slain just as 8000 horsemen began their charge. The Battle of Stoney Sept became a slaughter, barely four thousand escaped from an army of more than thirty thousand.
In the aftermath of the carnage, Ned found his friend in a Maester's tent, his shield arm fixated by metal bars and an ugly gash along his calf.
"Your grace!"
"Robert, there - there is no need," Ned trailed off when his friend burst out laughing and then clutched his leg.
"You should have seen your face, not that it is not good seeing it. Did you bring Jon as well?"
"He is dealing with the highborn prisoners, mostly second and third sons from Crownland houses. How are you?"
"Hungry. We had half-rations for another fortnight, but it was not looking good for us. The walls were weak and Connington a persistent bugger. He took half of my army with him, and I already lost half to Tarly."
"How did that go?"
"Not as well as I had hoped. The passes to the Reach were open, so I hoped to march to Bitterbridge, far from both King's Landing and Highgarden, but we got harassed by a bunch of small armies, each less than five thousand strong. They were merely buying time, when I reached Ashford the van of the Reach was already waiting for me. I tried to get around them, but Tarly matched every move I made. We both had 20000, but he was in my way and storming his positions would have been costly."
"And yet you made it here."
"I paid the price for that, and had Connington set off a day sooner, he could have run me down before I made it to this shithole," Robert grumbled.
"The men say you slew him in single combat."
"I got him in the battle, but it was not single combat. I lost my horse not long after we sallied, so I continued on foot. Probably saved me my life, since what was left of our horse was washed away by their charge. Connington did not have his lance when he got to me, I grabbed a pike from a dead man and brought down his horse. A green boy lasts longer during his first time than the cunt did, but his squire got a dirk under my greave. I'll make the lad a knight for that, as soon as the Maester is done cleaning the wound."
"You want to knight a boy who almost killed you?"
"He showed more balls than the rest of that army. Nearly three times our number, and yet they threw down their weapons and begged for mercy. But enough about me and Connington, what about you? Does your neck hurt from wearing a crown all the time?"
Ned froze for a moment, but there was no malice in his friend's voice, not even a hint of an accusation, only badly restrained laughter.
"It gets rather uncomfortable with time, and I am glad that the Kings of Winter used a narrow circlet of bronze rather than some elaborate southern style."
"Great, now I have something to look forward to. Or maybe I'm lucky and I will find the crown of Aegon the Unlikely in some vault beneath the Red Keep."
"I thought you'd be more eager to get your hands on Aerys than on some jewellery."
"Aerys is yours, yours and Jon's. I'll have my revenge when Rhaegar grows a pair of balls or we root him out of whatever hole he had dragged Lyanna to. And then he will regret the day he was born."
"I do not know if she would want to be wed after what Rhaegar did to her," Ned said carefully, the words making him feel as if someone choked him.
"I have two brothers, I can wait. And if those wounds never heal - I won't force her to say the vows, I would not be better than that whoreson Rhaegar otherwise," Robert said solemnly and grabbed the drinking horn Ned carried on his hip. "To Lyanna, wherever she might be."
"To Lyanna, so that we find her swiftly," Ned added as he observed the second time a drink did not raise his friend's spirit. The other occasion had been the raven from Storm's End, Stannis telling his brother what had befallen their parents.
"You managed to snag yourself one crown already, you wouldn't do a friend a favour and take a few more?" Robert said eventually, a desperate attempt to lighten their dark mood.
"Unfortunately, that is a burden you will have to carry yourself."
"Hopefully, Lyanna will be at my side."
"She would be miserable in King's Landing."
"Then that would make two of us. There will be changes once I sit on that bloody chair. I still remember how my father talked about court, how he loathed all the backstabbers and bootlickers - And that was before Duskendale - before Aerys went mad."
"I dread what my Lords will come up with once we have won this war," Ned said and then all merriment disappeared from his voice. "It should never have been me. Brandon was the born leader. I can fill in for a time, but my brother left a hole too large for me to fill."
"Horseshit, you looked plenty regal when you and Jon led the charge. The crowned direwolf on your banner, the dragon host melting like summer snow, arrows raining down on you as you pressed on - It was a sight no bard or Maester could do justice."
"Aye, Jon taught us well. But court is not the field of honour."
"Hah, your vassals strike me as a bunch more impressed by feats of valour than by honeyed words. I am the one who gets the Conqueror's throne and the Mad King's lickspittles."
"Moaning does not become you, your Grace."
"Oh bugger off. And send Jon to me, I would rather have my lecture when I look pitiable."
"You expect to get lectured?"
"Jon will find something, he always does. If nothing else, it will be how we should deal with your new Kingdom."
"Deal with it?"
"I can hardly expect that you will pay taxes, as ludicrous as that idea would have been in the first place. You are my brother-by-choice, not my moneylender. Then there are tolls, customs and all those things related to counting coppers," Robert snorted. "We fought together, we should not have our merchants fight each other when we lay down the swords and return home."
"Then let us not. No tolls or customs other than what is customary when a ship docks in a harbour or a merchant brings his wares to the market. We might have two crowns, but we are hardly strangers."
"Aye, that we are not. And now you have the topic of Jon's lecture, be so good and fetch the man."
It took the victorious armies over a month to regroup with their detached foot. Lord Umber had not been idle, from Darry to Maidenpool he set the lands ablaze until no castle there flew the dragon banner. War had come to the Riverlands, and therefore Hoster Tully summoned them to his home.
When the Rebel lords entered Riverrun, they did in a grand display of strength. Eddard Stark with his crown of bronze, Robert Baratheon in full plate and with his antlered helmet. The two Kings were led by Jon Arryn and escorted by fifty of the Vale's finest knights, their armour gleaming in the sunlight. Awaiting them were the banners of House Tully, their liege Lord flanked by his brother, with twenty thousand swords encamped around the castle.
Ned looked at the assembled noblemen and tried to get a measure of them. Some, like Lord Lycester or Blackwood, had openly declared for them, or at least opened storehouses and taken in their wounded. Others had clashed with their outriders or sent men to the Royal Army and stared at the rebels in the hope that the gods would smite them down. About one in five of the Riverlords were absent, slain, captured or in the Crown's service. Bread and salt were offered and accepted, and then the three leaders of the rebellion were whisked away to the Lord's study before someone could avenge a kinsman.
"You brought war to my lands," Hoster Tully accused as soon as the door shut close behind them.
"With all due respect, Lord Tully, we fought the Mad King and his dogs."
"That you have. Afterwards, you scoured the eastern Riverlands with sword and torch and made my sworn vassals forsake their oaths of fealty."
"We forced no one to say vows, not that those made at the point of a sword would hold in the eyes of the gods. Any men who pledged his sword did so because our cause is righteous," Eddard replied.
"That it is, otherwise we would not be talking here but face each other on the battlefield. But your actions, no matter how rightful they were, brought suffering to me and mine," Lord Tully said and paused to sip his wine, his guests had not been offered a drink of their own. "I demand that you will wed my daughter in your brother's stead, as custom demands."
"I have a wife."
"And her father is fighting you," the Lord of Riverrun pointed out, his voice cold as ice.
"The match was made before the Rebellion."
"As was your brother's. There is plenty of precedent for annulments over less - "
"You expect me to cast aside my wife when she is with child? For what kind of oathbreaker do you take me?"
"Peace, Lord Stark," the Blackfish interceded before his brother could say something that could escalate the argument beyond words. Eddard had his fists balled and Robert looked like he would like to do nothing more than shatter Lord Tully's skull with his ornate chair.
"I would wed your daughter if it pleases you, Lord Tully. House Arryn might not be as old as the Starks of Winterfell, but we were the ones who brought the faith of the Seven to Westeros long before the Targaryens forged the Seven Kingdoms. Your daughter would feel more at home there than alone amongst heathens," Jon intersected, trying to keep the talks going.
"Septs can be built, and some of your bannermen follow the Seven, do they not Lord Stark?"
"Have you seen what passes for the Faith of the Seven there, brother? The Snowy Sept is surrounded by a Godswood and the Septons might as well preach to worship the Old Gods with the faces of the Seven. The only reason they are not branded as heretics is that the High Septon knows that no one would heed his call to enforce doctrine."
Hoster Tully shot the Blackfish a look of pure betrayal, but he merely shrugged it off.
"Lord Stark and his sister are spoken for, but he has a younger brother."
"Aye, Benjen. He was thinking about joining the Night's Watch, but he is too young to make that decision."
"Then let's make it simple, Lord Stark, if you want the Riverlands to join your rebellion, your brother will take my younger daughter as his wife. You will find them lands as befits their station and then you will get twenty thousand swords."
"Aye," Ned said after a long moment of thought. This was a situation where he held no power. Benjen would curse him for this, but he had no other choice. They needed the swords, the secure flank, if they had any hope of winning against the Dragons and, more importantly, against the Reach. Benjen wanted to find redemption with the Night Watch, but now fate had another path for him. For his father and his brother, for Lyanna.
After the wedding of Lord Arryn and Catelyn Tully and the betrothal of Prince Benjen to Lysa Tully, the rebels set out to secure the Riverlands and bring the loyalists to heel. A dozen small battles were fought from Wendish Town to Crossed Elms while the Royal Army was raised again. Reinforcements arrived from all corners of the realm still loyal to the Targaryen cause, ten thousand Dornish spears, five thousand knights and men-at-arms from the Reach and levies to swell their numbers beyond sixty thousand. Prince Rhaegar appeared for the first time in many moons and took command just as the Rebels marched south to meet the Dragons in battle.
Near Brindlewood, the two armies clashed. The first day was made up of several skirmishes as men arrived at the battlefield from both sides, and before a decisive engagement could commence, darkness fell. The night proved restless for most, and by dawn's early light, battle was joined. The Knight of the Vale and grim Northern axemen clashed with the infamous Dornish spear wall and the chivalry of the Reach. Men died by the thousands, Lords perished and noble lines spanning back to times immemorial were ended, yet the battle was decided in single combat. During the previous fighting, Jonothor Darry and Barristan Selmy gave their lives for their Prince, but that meant that they were not at his side when Rhaegar faced his most lethal foe, who fought with the righteous fury of the Father himself.
The sun was at its zenith when Robert Baratheon and Rhaegar Targaryen met near the burnt-out husk of an inn that had changed hands three times over the day. Bards would compose many songs about this titanic clash, and even on the same evening there were already five different tales floating around, but they all agreed on one thing. Their duel ended with the Prince falling into the dust, his chest plate carved in. And with his death, his army shattered.
However, Robert, who had been wounded several times and never allowed himself to rest long enough to heal, barely made it off the battlefield before he collapsed. His injuries were not life-threatening, but they were symbolic of the state of his army. Once the pursuit ended with the Royal Army scattered to the winds, the Rebels were forced to regroup for several days as the wounded were tended to and the baggage train caught up with the host and absorbed the loot from the Targaryen camp. Only a small Vanguard under the command of Lord Bolton probed south, to raise the alarm if another host marched up the Kingsroad.
Their plan was sheer insanity, but Lady Stark had asked if her friend could be helped before she left for Greywater Watch. The crannogmen were queer folk, but they knew more of healing herbs than even the Maesters, and it was hundreds of leagues closer than Winterfell. Therefore, Theo Wull and a few like-minded men from the mountains decided to attempt the impossible and fulfil the wish of their liege's wife. Come success or failure, their tale would be sung by their kin for generations, of men who would leave no stone unturned in the service of House Stark, of the Kings of Winter.
Getting into the capital had been easy, surprisingly so, but the goldcloaks were preparing the defences for a siege and therefore the gates were not sufficiently manned to deal with the stream of people flooding into the city. The Red Keep was better protected, but men were needed to carry out building work before the city was invested, and a group of strong men was always welcome. They had to spin a tale of how they were from the Riverlands, their village burned down by Bracken men who wanted their cows and their silver, but in the end, strong men were needed and no further questions were asked. None of the Northmen knew a trade, but they had been raised for fighting as much as for ruling, and they got their employment for their muscles, not their brains. Carrying timbers was back-breaking work, but their overseer was happy to answer questions about the Red Keep and the Maidenvault. The builders had split them up, Norrey and Flint were somewhere near the Mud Gate, but the remaining handful of men knew that this was their only chance. As dusk fell, they were tired but alert and ready. With a wooden beam on their shoulders, no servant questioned their party as they entered the Maidenvault and quickly made it to the Princess' corridor. Not knowing which room they needed to find, they simply tore all doors open until they were face to face with Elia Martell, who, to her credit, pushed her children behind her and drew a dagger.
The Dornish princess had never heard of their houses, but the mention of Ashara's name and an oath by the old gods and the new convinced her that she was among friends. As time was of the essence, she quickly stripped down to her smallclothes before putting on riding trousers and a dark tunic, leaving the men in the room to awkwardly admire the masonry of the Red Keep. Clansmen were not knights in the light of the Seven, but even they knew not to stare at a noble lady, at least one they respected. However, just as they left Elia's room a minute later, they found themselves face to face with the last Kingsguard, who was too surprised to do more than stare at their party.
"Ser Jaime."
"Princess," he replied dumbstruck before his mind caught up with his eyes and his hand was at his sword. "Are you, are you alright?"
"I am leaving," she announced with an air of authority, which more than anything else convinced Jaime that she was not under duress. Still, he spent an awfully long moment deliberating his next action, all eyes on him as he closed his own.
"The Prince ordered me to protect you as he rode off, and I intend to honour his last order. My father's army is only four days west of here," Jamie pointed out, his chest feeling light after the decision he had just made. He had not slept much since news of the loyalist defeat at Brindlewood had reached the capital, not after seeing how the King had reacted. That, more than anything else prompted him to join the rescue party.
"Begging your pardon Ser Kingsguard, but we do not know who your father would declare for, and freeing the Princess just so that she is returned a week later would be pretty pointless."
"Where are we heading then?"
"Hayford, and if that has not fallen by the time we reach the castle, we follow the Kingsroad north."
"I will prepare some horses, you stay with the Princess! Are there any other conspirators?"
"Two more, but we got separated hours ago and they will be down in the city. They will find a way out on their own."
"Seven horses then - prepare to ride hard."
Ser Jaime proved true to his words and led seven horses out to the courtyard, helped by a confused stablehead who found himself a dragon richer as the rescuers helped the Princess mount up, and then her children before they set off like the wind. However, this late into the day, the gatehouse had its portcullis lowered, leaving them with no way out.
Despite the roadblock, the young man pushed his horse forward and shouted at the watchmen with all the authority he could muster. "In the name of the King, open the gate!"
Against all expectations, the guards heeded the command. Perhaps they recognised Ser Jamie and his white cloak, or they were terrified at Aerys title being invoked. The iron grid was not even fully raised when the Princess rode past her rescuers and through the city as if the stranger was on her heels, her companions barely keeping up. Despite their haste, it took them almost an hour to clear the city gates, and they were barely out of bowshot from the walls when the bells began to ring.
AN: Beta'ed by LifeEquals42.