BLACK-OP1: She is still in King's Landing, with Joffrey and the Lannisters. However, slight spoiler, she'll be a POV next book, so we'll get to see her experiences first hand.
Omega Gogeta: Well nothing has changed that would make the North do anything different at this point. But when it comes to seceding, they were an independent Kingdom for thousands of years, and in canon Robb was winning for most of the early war. Stannis is going to think the same as he does in canon about Renly and Robb crowning themselves, but he doesn't have Daenerys or Tristan, Dany's in King's Landing and Tristan's with Robb. If you mean Lyonel and Shireen, then you'll see.
Tarabas: She's in King's Landing.
Also, this is the last chapter of the first book. I'll admit that here and for a good chunk of the next book, thing's have been towing the canon line a little. The main reason being that I'm not just going to change things from the Canon because I can, it has to be as a consequence of what has happened because of the introduction of these characters. While this may mean that it sticks to that line a little too much, overall it should be for the best since if I was to just change things to be different, especially with binary events like battles, the changes would be more predictable. But a lot of this setup pays off by book three where we see real and profound differences from then on.
Since this first book is done, it would be really useful if people could tell me what worked, what they liked and didn't like just to give me more to go on from here. I hope you've enjoyed it so far and will continue to stick with me.
Psykic Ninja
"They have my son," Lord Tywin said.
Only one, Loren thought angrily as he sipped at his wine.
"They do, my lord," the messenger spoke, the boar of Crakehall on his surcoat half obscured by caked blood.
His father's bannermen and captains had fallen silent as the messenger told his tale, with only the crackling of the fire to break the silence.
The hard march south had been strenuous and Loren suspected that he was not the only one who was silently grateful to be in an Inn for even one night. Unlike his time in the company, there wasn't time to set up properly most nights and the discomfort was getting to him. But it was hardest on the men. Those wounded in the battle had fallen behind, Loren had taken it upon himself to set up a reserve force that marched more slowly, able to pick up those the main host left behind. But some who collapsed on the march never rose again, and some fell asleep for the final time, and every night a few more men would sneak out of camp into the darkness. It had all been for nought. By the time they reached the Inn at the Crossroads again, Robb Stark had already liberated Riverrun, days and days ago.
"How could this happen?" Ser Harys Swyft moaned. "How? Even after the Whispering Wood, you had Riverrun ringed in iron, surrounded by a great host . . . what madness made Ser Jaime decide to split his men into three separate camps? Surely he knew how vulnerable that would leave them?"
"Jaime is impetuous," Loren spoke up. "But he is not a complete fool. To split and create three camps requires effort I'd not expect of him unless it was essential, especially to ring them with stockades. I suspect there was reason to this so called madness."
"There was," Kevan said. "You have never seen Riverrun, Ser Harys, or you would know that Jaime had little choice in the matter. The castle is situated at the end of the point of land where the Tumblestone flows into the Red Fork of the Trident. The rivers form two sides of a triangle, and when danger threatens, the Tullys open their sluice gates upstream to create a wide moat on the third side, turning Riverrun into an island. To cut off all the approaches, a besieger must place one camp north of the Tumblestone, one south of the Red Fork, and a third between the rivers, west of the moat. There is no other way, none."
"Ser Kevan speaks truth, my lords," the messenger said. "We put stakes and palisades around the camps, but there was no warning given when the Northmen attacked, only slaughter and destruction. Ser Brynden Tully led the first assault on the northern camp, clearing out the outriders and barricades, by the time anyone knew what was happening, we were overwhelmed. Lord Brax attempted to lead a force across from our camp to the west, but the current carried the rafts within range of Riverrun's walls, and they sent stones and arrows our way, turning many rafts and shattering others. This left the camp open to attack. The Mallister Eagle and Umber Giant could be seen, but it was the boy who led them, his great wolf at his side. I didn't see it, but I heard it killed four men and a dozen horses. The spearmen tried to form a shield wall, but a sortie from Riverrun led by Tytos Blackwood took it from behind. A few of the rafts made the journey, but the Starks were waiting for them on the far bank."
"My father?"Ser Flement Brax asked. "He led the sortie on the rafts."
The messenger nodded sadly, his head bowed. "I'm sorry my lord, but I saw his raft get turned to splinters by a catapult. He was clad in full plate mail."
Loren was saddened by that, such a pointless death, now his body was resting at the bottom of the river.
"Gods save us," his father in law, Lord Lefford swore.
"The Greatjon Umber fired the siege towers we had built," the messenger continued. "Lord Blackwood found the prisoners we had taken so far and liberated them all. Ser Forley Prester saw this and held his men back. He was able to retreat to the Golden Tooth with two thousand spearmen and as many archers. But the Tyroshi that Jaime left to command his outriders went over to the Starks when he saw the completeness of the victory."
"Curse the man," Kevan said. "I told Jaime not to trust a sellsword, a man who fights for gold is loyal only to his purse."
"I fought for gold once, Uncle," he reminded the table darkly, making them all look at him sharply. "I never betrayed a contract. Perhaps Jaime should not have been so eager to ride out against raiders," he turned to the messenger. "Did the outriders see nothing of this assault incoming?"
"They had been vanishing, my lord," the messenger told him. "We had thought it to be the work of Marq Piper and other raiders, not the Stark host. We had been told they were marching down the eastern side of the Green Fork. Ser Jaime led the horse out to pursue raiders the night before, Marq Piper we thought, not the Starks. Outriders still returned, but those who did had not seen anything."
"A man who sees nothing has no use for his eyes." Ser Gregor thundered. "Cut them out and give them to the next man, tell him you hope four eyes see better than two... if not, the next man will have six."
"Threatening outriders serves no purpose Clegane," Loren replied, shaking his head at the stupidity, were there really only two men in the whole Lannister host who understood how to use outriders? "If you threaten them as such, they will see something. Far better that they see nothing truly than something falsely. The outriders are supposed to give you what they see, what happens after that is the fault of the man who has the information and squanders it."
The Mountain didn't reply.
"How could it happen?" Ser Harys Swyft muttered again. "Ser Jaime taken, the siege broken . . . this is a catastrophe!"
"That is true," Loren said. "But the information is ours, what are we going to do with it, that is what we should be asking."
"What can we do? Jaime's host is all slaughtered or taken or put to flight, and the Starks and the Tullys sit squarely across our line of supply. We are cut off from the west! They can march on Casterly Rock if they so choose, and what's to stop them? My lords, we are beaten. We must sue for peace."
"Peace," Tyrion spoke for the first time, and Loren looked to him. His dwarf brother drained his wine and threw the cup to the ground where it shattered. "There's your peace. Our good King Joffrey saw to that when he turned Eddard Stark's head into an ornament for the Red Keep's walls. You have better chance drinking from that cup than you will bringing Robb Stark to talk now. He is winning, or have you so swiftly forgotten?"
"Two battles don't make a war," Ser Addam replied. "I would relish the chance to test my own steel against the Stark boy."
"By now Stark will have gathered to him the scattered Riverlords, and be calling those who had not been called initially to join them. If we want to march against him, we will have to force the Trident against an opposing host. I would not relish doing so," Loren said.
Lord Lefford offered his own suggestion. "Perhaps they would consent to exchange prisoners."
"Unless they trade four for every one, we will come of worse," Tyrion replied.
"What about Ser Jaime. We need to ransom him, I hear we have Lord Stark's daughters."
"It would be possible if we had Lord Stark himself," Loren said. "But Stark would be laughed out of his lordship if he traded Jaime Lannister for two girls."
"We aren't out of this war yet," Ser Flement said. "We control the capital, we could surely prevail on the queen to raise a fresh host from there, and we still have reserves at Casterly Rock."
"They have my son!" Lord Tywin's voice cut across the babble like a lance through lard. "Kevan, Loren, Tyrion, you stay, the rest of you, out." Not one of the others hesitated in obeying Lord Tywin.
Kevan crossed to the wine casks. "Uncle, if you could," Tyrion began, but Lord Tywin cut across him.
"Here," he passed his dwarf son his full cup of wine.
"I will have another cup, if you would be so kind uncle," Loren said. When Kevan had returned, Tywin sat down.
"You two are right about Eddard Stark. Alive, we might have used him to broker a peace settlement with Winterfell and Riverrun. A peace would give us the freedom to deal with Robert's brothers but now... dead... madness, rank madness and bold stupidity." He shook his head. "I thought you were a drunk stunted fool and a headstrong, naive adventurer," he said to Tyrion and Loren. "Perhaps I was wrong." He perked up. Had his father just praised him, in front of Kevan and at the cost of Jaime? "But our situation is worse than you know, we have another king to deal with."
"Another?" Loren asked. "Has something befallen Joffrey?"
Tywin shook his head. "No... not yet, Renly Baratheon has married the daughter of Highgarden, her father, brothers and their bannermen have sworn him their swords, the banners of Storm's End were already his, and now they gather to make him king."
"That bodes ill," Loren commented wrly. Renly Baratheon had just gathered the largest host in Westeros to him.
"Cersei commands us to ride for King's Landing and defend it against Renly and the Knight of the Flowers," he scoffed. "Commands, mind you, in the name of King Joffrey, as his regent."
"How is King Joffrey taking the news?" Tyrion asked, seemingly with a certain black amusement.
"Cersei has not seen fit to tell him, she fears he will lead an army against Renly."
"What army?" Loren asked. "You don't mean to give him this one, surely?"
"He talks about leading the Gold Cloaks."
Tyrion scoffed. "Stannis Baratheon sits at Dragonstone and he would leave his throne undefended."
"What of Stannis?" Loren asked. "He is the eldest Robert's brothers, if we could get him to voice support for Joffrey..."
"Stannis Baratheon," Tywin mused. "Robb Stark, Renly Baratheon, Stannis Baratheon. From the start, I have seen Stannis as the greatest threat to Lannister power. But what does he do? Sits on Dragonstone? Oh Varys hears whispers sure enough. Stannis Baratheon is seizing ships, Stannis is building ships, Stannis is hiring Sellswords, Stannis has brought in a Shadowbinder from Asshai. What does it mean? Is any of it true, or all of it?" He shook his head. "Kevan, bring me the map."
Kevan did so. Lord Tywin unrolled the leather, smoothing it flat. "Jaime has left us in a bad way. The younger Stark twin and the remnants of his host are north of us. Our enemies hold the Twins and Moat Cailin. Robb Stark sits to the west, so we cannot retreat to Lannisport and the Rock unless we choose to give battle. Jaime is taken, and his army for all purposes has ceased to exist. Thoros of Myr and Beric Dondarrion continue to plague our foraging parties. To our east we have the Arryns, Stannis Baratheon sits on Dragonstone, and in the south Highgarden and Storm's End are calling their banners."
"With the Lords of the Trident, Robb Stark may well match us in numbers, and with his brother to the north, we may soon find ourselves trapped between three different armies if we stay here," Loren commented.
"We won't," his father replied simply. "Despite my daughter's commands, we must finish our business with Stark before Renly assaults the capital. The host to the north will be reforming and won't be ready to pursue for a while, besides, it is at the mouth of the Causeway now, too far to trouble us. We will regroup at Harrenhal, Loren," Loren looked at his father's eyes. "Who would you trust to best lead the Outriders in your place?"
"Ser Addam," he answered at once, though slightly curious as to why someone should be leading them in his place.
"Kevan, inform Ser Addam that he is to screen our advance, in groups of four so we will have no vanishings this time. Then unleash Ser Gregor and send him before us with his marauders. Send out Vargo Hoat and his freeriders as well, and Ser Amory Lorch. Each is to have three hundred horse. Tell them I want to see the riverlands afire from the Gods Eye to the Red Fork." That was quite the level of destruction his father was ordering. "Would your savages be willing to join the plundering?" He asked Tyrion.
"That's like asking me if I am willing to drink," Tyrion japed. "But I would rather keep them with me."
Lord Tywin didn't object. "Very well, but keep them in check, I don't want your brother#s men to have to keep them in check as well as perform his other duties."
"What other duties?" Loren asked.
"You have some men of your own, two hundred, am I wrong."
"You aren't," Loren said.
Tywin nodded. "Good, they will help you, and I'm sure you'll find some use for the savages in the city, as long as they don't burn it down."
"Which city would that be father?" Tyrion asked.
"King's Landing. I am sending the two of you to court."
Loren couldn't keep his eyebrows from shooting towards his hairline. "To do what?" He asked his father.
"Rule," Lord Tywin said.
Tyrion let out a hoot of laughter. "Cersei may have words about that."
"Let her have them, she cannot be trusted with power, it seems. You two will bring the boy king to heel before he ruins us all, and his mother if it should come to that. But those lickspittles on the council are just as to blame; our friend Petyr, the venerable Grand Maester, and that cockless wonder Lord Varys. What sort of counsel are they giving Joffrey when he lurches from one folly to the next? Whose notion was it to make this Janos Slynt a lord? The man's father was a butcher, and they grant him Harrenhal. Harrenhal, that was the seat of kings! Not that he will ever set foot inside it, if I have a say. I am told he took a bloody spear for his sigil. A bloody cleaver would have been my choice." He shook his head. "And Selmy, what was the sense in dismissing him. He leant honour to whomever he served, the name Barristan the Bold means more than Cersei seems to know. Who says that of the Hound? Feed your dog under the table, I doubt Stark sits his Direwolf beside him for his lords to see." He pointed at the two of them. "Loren, you will serve as Hand of the King in my stead, Tyrion shall take Renly's vacated Master of Laws position. Together you will take the King in hand. If Cersei cannot curb the boy, you must, and if you have doubts about the loyalties of these councillors..."
"Treat them as Joffrey did lord Stark," he finished.
Tywin nodded. "It seems you have learned more lessons than I expected." He rose to his feet. "Set off at first light with your men. And Tyrion, the whore stays here." With that Tywin departed the inn.
Loren sat back in his chair, his mind still working over the events of the last minute. Him. Hand of the King.
"I should go and inform Shagga," Tyrion said, downing the last of father's wine. "I shall see you tomorrow, my lord Hand," and with that, he waddled from the room.
He was alone and the smile finally came. This was his chance, his chance to prove that he was more worthy than Jaime to inherit Casterly Rock. Jaime had failed at Riverrun, he would succeed at King's Landing and then father would be forced to recognise that Jaime's oaths meant he could not inherit, and he would be accepted as the heir to Casterly Rock.
This was his chance, and he would not squander it.
