A/N: What a doozy of a chapter to write! This was my first real battle chapter, so it's definitely an experience, but onto the Battle of the Twins! Hopefully it's realistic for you all to read and makes sense plot wise, but if not, I'll take any comments that can help me improve my battle writing! Let me know what you think of the chapter!

Also, HUGE thanks to Tertius711 and Ragusytlas over at AH for helping me with the chapter - they have their own glorious fics that you all can read, and I highly recommend it!


THE BATTLE OF THE TWINS

ROBB

The two towers of the Twins was an imposing sight in Robb's eyes as he prepared to set camp by the Twins, delaying his meeting with Emmon Frey out of worry it had been a trap. He had sent the Frey host off with excuses that they would negotiate in the morning, but Robb was uncertain as to whether that excuse was believable or not.

It is strange to think of this castle as my grave in a more horrifying future.

Conventional logic would have dictated that he would not attempt to siege the Twins, for the keep was almost impossible to launch a direct attack within. Not only that, he knew from his lessons and from his own eyes that there were two parts of the keep to consider in a siege. Had there truly been a powerful force, even if you defeated all the men inside one tower, you would have to defeat the men inside the other tower.

It would be utter foolishness to even bother launching an attack, and instead, aim towards negotiations. Yet, if his forces attempted to negotiate, the Lannister outpost would fall on the Lords there, and most likely slay Robb and his wife before they even realized there was a threat.

This, Robb realized, was Tywin Lannister's plan: Either the Twins would massively delay the Northern host aiming to siege the tower, long enough for the Westerlands host to reinforce the siege and make it impossible for the Northmen to join the Tyrell host. Or, Robb, Margaery, and any other important lord at the negotiation would be slain, allowing for Emmon Frey and his get a massive advantage in the fight ahead.

A sane tactician with this information would probably turn their troops straight to the Neck to rejoin the crannogmen and hope that Howland Reed could finagle a solution. Or, they would attempt to aim straight towards the Kingsroad, which would cost a few hundred extra miles of work and delay, something stymied further by the troops Tywin Lannister had laying in wait, no doubt.

The situation at the Twins, even devastated, still held a massive threat to the Northmen aiming to free Robb's father, and was a puzzle that would stun military strategists around the Seven Kingdoms. This plan was almost-perfect, and sure to delay the Northmen, if not for a single loophole, one that Tywin Lannister had never considered.

If the gates were opened by an insider looking to use the attack for their own gain, it would not be very difficult. A seasoned guide, who knew all of the attack plans of the people within the towers, and would set traps to delay the Twins from the inside - one, willing to betray their lord to the invaders outside - would give Robb and the Northmen a powerful victory.

Perhaps in a normal family, where betrayal was not so common and familial ties convinced lords and heirs to stay true to their house, this would not be a problem. Unfortunately for Tywin Lannister, a civil war had just occurred within the Twins, and had not truly stopped.

Rather, the "intervention" of House Lannister's forces only made the rebel side more sneaky in their efforts to reclaim their rights, and gain better prestige, all under the encouragement of Ser Stevron Frey's only surviving son, Lord Walton Frey - the only Frey with a better claim than Emmon Frey.

Lord Walton Frey, his wife, Deana, and his three children had a spate of luck during the early stages of the civil war, having narrowly avoided assassination by poison because of a trip to the Vale, where Deana Frey, nee Hardyng's, family lived.

Though Walton had a reputation of being a dour soldier with simple loyalty, even he could see the personal advantage in becoming the newest Lord of the Crossing, and keeping his head. Certain relatives that were not a fan of Emmon Frey, could find advantage in a new Lord of the Crossing that would grant them significant roles.

And so there Walton Frey was, discussing battle strategy at the eve of the battle with a war council.

"Ser Brynden, we will need a small force of men to join us in storming the East tower. The guards will open the doors and allow your men in. They will form the bulk of the forces, and draw the attention of the Lannister outpost. This will be a good distraction for your forces to begin crossing the bridge, and allow the rest of our forces to take control of the other tower." Walton Frey explained.

"The Water Tower will act as a deathtrap then, and our men would be massacred as we cross the bridge." Roose Bolton pointed out coldly. "We would not get within ten leagues of the Water Tower before the archers pick us apart."

"The Water Tower has already been taken by those loyal to me and mine, Lord Bolton," Walton Frey clarified.

"How will we be able to distinguish those Freys loyal to you rather than to Emmon Frey and his get?" Uncle Brynden asked curiously.

"Over the course of the past two moons, after Emmon and his Lannister wife sent an host to press their claim, certain members of House Frey began to show their discontent with the events in the civil war by wearing a patch of blue, one of the colors of House Frey. In response, those wishing to show their support to Emmon began wearing patches of crimson, to honor the Lannister host that stopped the war."

"The Blues and the Reds…" Margaery trailed off thoughtfully. "Just like in the Dance of Dragons, I suppose. Though, Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister may know who to target, if these patches are worn so indiscreetly."

"Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister have not noticed yet as members of House Frey begin to swear their allegiances, owing to the fact that they remain firmly ensconced in the Lord's solar and keep." Walton Frey replied.

"Even so, we should be cautious. It would be easy for a Frey wearing a patch of blue to take us all for fools, and take our forces from the outside." Jon said. "It would be a slaughter if we were caught in between Lannister forces."

"Lord Walton, how many men will we be fighting here?" Robb asked.

"Though House Frey can summon a levy of about 4000 men, only 1000 of House Frey's levies resided within the Twins prior to the civil war. About half of those men have either fled or died, and of the other half, about 250 of those men are sworn to Emmon Frey, backed by an outpost of about 500 Lannister men," Walton Frey answered. "Most of those men are gathered in the eastern tower, but if we were to take them by surprise, most of them will be sleeping."

"The odds are decent, nephew," Uncle Brynden noted. "If we attack them then, we should be able to get the advantage, though fighting in such close quarters will be bloody if we do not respond quickly enough."

"I say we pick those bloody bastards apart!" The Greatjon exclaimed. "The sooner, the better!"

This is a dangerous proposition. If we catch Emmon Frey by surprise it would be an easy victory, and the fastest way to aim towards Riverrun, but if this is a trap, we will be done for. No, I have to trust Uncle Brynden - if he thinks these are good odds, it's likely that there are good odds.

Robb sighed, and nodded.

"Lord Walton, prepare your men - we will attack on the Hour of the Wolf." Robb commanded. "I will lead the forces storming the Eastern tower, accompanied by Ser Brynden, Lord Bolton, and Lord Umber. A portion of our forces composed of fifty men will aim for the primary attack, while 700 men will enter afterwards to reinforce the attack."

The four men mentioned nodded in assent, before Lord Walton left the room to prepare his troops.

"Jon, Theon, I trust you two with a force to assault the Western tower, after the bridge is crossed. You two will lead the levy."

Jon nodded solemnly, and Theon's face sported a bloodthirsty grin at the thought of battle.

"Lady Mormont, I must entrust you with an important task. Dacey will join me in the primary force, but I will need experienced warriors to protect my wife and to protect the rear of our forces as well."

"We would be honored to do so," Maege Mormont responded. "They won't get within an inch of the rear."


ROBB

Battle, Robb found, was a confusing and terrifying thing. He had always assumed that his first battle would be a glorious thing in the middle of a field, where he bedazzled his opponent in a single move that would inspire songs for the ages, but his first experience in a battle had never proved him so wrong.

"There's more of these bastards coming!" he heard the Greatjon shout.

It had started off strong at first - the guards had let them in without a hitch, allowing the first of Robb's forces to arrive, and they had slowly snuck up the tower, opening the gate, and preparing for the second half of Robb's forces to lay in wait for a reinforcement.. Most of the Lannister men had been sleeping, giving Robb's strike force the perfect opportunity to ambush the Lord's solar, with Emmon Frey inside.

Yet, the moment they had arrived at the Lord's solar, the guards had made such a commotion that it had awoken Emmon Frey, who presumably sent guards down to the barracks, and so, forced with a reveal, Robb's strike force was forced to fight their way out. The acting Lord of House Frey and his wife didn't so much as put up a fight with Grey Wind, terrifying them into submission, the spineless cowards...

Robb's sword hand moved as an extension of his body, his superior skill easily dismantling his opponents. He had at first used non-lethal blows, not wishing to kill the guards, but his luck ended when a surprise attack was met with muscle memory, and Ice had ended up piercing through his opponent's armor and the delicate heart beneath it.

Suddenly, he heard a growl, alongside a tearing sound, as Grey Wind brutally ripped out his would-be assassin's neck from their shoulders. There was so much blood….

"Lad, you can't freeze up now, freeze up later!" Uncle Brynden shouted as he dodged a strike that would have impaled his neck. "You can panic after we kill these bastards!"

He looked at the favor on his arm, a sash of green and gold, and he thought. Of spring, and of his love's teary eyed pleas to come back safe and alive. Of Arya, Rickon, and his mother, in Winterfell, and Jon and Theon fighting on the bridge. Of Sansa, in Highgarden, waiting for an army, and of his father, and of Bran, who he loved dearly, and would save from King's Landing.

A man wearing a patch of Lannister red approached him with a clumsy overarm strike that was easily avoidable, and he steeled his resolve, dodging the strike and stabbing Ice directly into his opponent's eye, and a gush of blood streamed from the dead man.

"Good man," the Greatjon said grimly, as he disemboweled another opponent to his left, and Roose Bolton slit the throat of an opponent to Robb's right.

"WE MEET THE OTHER FORCES!" Robb shouted. "SANDWICH THOSE BASTARDS IN!"

"LANNISTER!", "KING JOFFREY!", "WE STAND TOGETHER!" was heard from the Lannister guards as they charged at Robb's strike force.

The four men and singular direwolf worked together as a brutal team at the front of the strike force, with skill and experience greatly outclassing the inexperienced Lannister and Frey levies, who sought to save their lord. Yet there was something to be said about numbers, as each was swarmed by multiple opponents and had to react quickly and effectively to keep their heads. Though their retinue of guards had worked to keep them alive, the small force that had joined them were all dead, save for those six.

Robb grimly ended every fight as quickly as he could, and Ice's steel quickly stained red with blood as it was used to claim the lives of his hapless opponents. His fighting gave Robb a view of the bridge, and he saw his forces, alongside a very familiar horse and a flash of green and gold that could only be his wife's distant figure, begin to cross the bridge.

"FOR EDDARD!" he could hear distantly, and with a single moment of clarity, Robb realized that the backup forces had broken through the ranks of Lannisters that had sandwiched them in. He fought harder as he struggled to rejoin his forces, adding force to his swing as the Valyrian steel easily beheaded two in a single strike. The other men seemingly realized this as well, and continued to fight with a vengeance; his Uncle a whirling force of death as he cut through his opposition, the Greatjon's axe painting the world red as he swung the axe with a finesse that belied its size, and Roose Bolton's precise rapier strikes carefully culling his opposition.

And then finally, the forces met in the center, with Ser Wylis, Dacey, and the Smalljon quickly and effectively maneuvering Robb's forces to the sides to cut off the stragglers. The forces thinned, as the Northern forces destroyed the greatly unprepared and mostly unarmored forces of men, who had just woken up from an unwelcome surprise. Lord Walton followed, protected by his retinue, and prepared to give orders and resolve the war once and for all.

Only him and Lord Bolton were still dueling their opponents, with Uncle Brynden and the Greatjon finishing off their opponents in dramatic fashion. Roose Bolton was engaged in the middle of a fast-paced duel, avoiding his opponent's frantic attempt to pierce his unprotected neck by swaying in a left-and-right fashion.

And yet, there was a flash of steel that caught Robb's eye on his right; a surprise attack from a guard hidden till now, so close that Grey Wind could not intercept the attacker. Robb attempted to dodge his attacker, but not nearly fast enough. The greatsword cleaved in slow motion as it aimed at Robb's right side, before the sword suddenly stopped as it found purchase in a body that had accidentally dodged too far to the left, splitting the already damaged plate mail that Roose Bolton used as armor. Robb, no fool that he was, used the opportunity to pierce his attacker's heart, as Dacey Mormont's morningstar brutally destroyed whatever was left of Roose Bolton's final opponent.

Robb looked at his right, to see a sword still inside of Lord Roose Bolton's body.

"Lord Roose!" Robb cried out, half in shock and half in worry. A faint and terrifying smile crossed Lord Bolton's face, as he clutched at his gut.

"Keep your blades sharp, Stark," Lord Bolton muttered. "You'll need them soon enough..."

The light left Lord Bolton's eyes, and Robb stood in the middle of the battleground, covered in blood. Grey Wind howled, a single, mournful note filling the Eastern Tower. The battle had been won.


JON

"Why can't you fools stay in the back? Let other men fight for honor and glory in the front, and protect me from the rear! You'll be safest that way!" Margaery had argued before they had left,

"Lady Margaery, we can't have your husband claim all the glory, now, can we?" Theon said with a roguish grin. "Besides, they're only a small force, we'll be fine charging the Western towers."

"All three of you are fools," Margaery nearly wept, as she looked worriedly at the Eastern tower, the one she knew her husband was in at this point of time. "But you must be careful, Jon, and Theon. Robb and I cannot lose any brothers, you hear me?"

"Ghost will be with you, Margaery," Jon said solemnly, "but we will stay safe. It should not be an issue."

Jon dearly regretted his statement as the Western tower loomed in his sight. Thank the gods Lord Walton had been correct, the Water Tower cleared of any archers save for those loyal to him, yet the situation had almost been worse, as the archers at the Water Tower had been aiming for those at the ramparts of the Eastern and Western tower. He thanked the Old Gods that the retinue at the back of the marching camps were well protected.

"Ready, Stark?" Theon asked softly, as they prepared to enter the tower and clear it of any opposition.

"No, but I will fight anyway." Jon said quietly. Perhaps if he had less experience, and less attention, he would have entered the battlefield with an arrogance to prove his worth beyond his bastardy and suffered for it, but time with Ser Wylis and Ser Wendel had beaten the overconfidence out of him, and had it replaced with a recognition of his skills.

I have not seen a battle, and so I must be careful. Everyone is depending on me.

He thought of beautifully braided brown hair, and piercing, pale blue eyes. Of a fire disguised by politeness and finery, and of silent beauty. Of the love and affection that Wynafryd granted him, and of his adoration of the quiet woman that he would one day be consort of.

I must make it home to her.

And so Jon charged into the fray, his speed and deadly skill coming in handy as he faced his opponents. Theon grinned from behind him, readying his bow and arrow with pinpoint accuracy to snipe any opponents Jon could not reach.

As Jon avoided an underarm swing to carefully aim into his opponent's unprotected head he almost laughed at how easy it was to fight.

None have the skill that Robb or Ser Rodrik have - I will finish this quickly and efficiently.

His confidence bolstered, he quickly cleared the room of opponents, allowing a distraction for Theon to carefully snipe a straggling soldier in the eye. The forces under Jon and Theon's commands had been ordered to begin clearing other rooms, and so Jon and Theon nodded, before heading into opposite rooms to climb the tower.

There was a strange quiet to the tower, even as the sounds of battle raged on and on. Jon found himself picking off whatever guards there were, going so far as to kick a straggler out of the window, before he ascended the ramparts. The battle on the Western edge of the tower had been an absolute slaughter, contrasting with the chaos that Jon knew Robb was facing on the Eastern towers.

"Stark, to me!" Theon shouted, and Jon nodded, joining the force of soldiers remaining to break their opposition in a dazzling finish. As Jon ran towards Theon, he saw Theon aim with his bow towards him, and paled, as the arrow flew towards Jon.

He wouldn't dare…

But the arrow missed Jon entirely, aiming for a spot somewhere above his left shoulder, as Jon's recklessness nearly made him miss the assassin aiming towards him.

"Watch where you're going, Jon!" Theon shouted, and Jon nodded as he arrived to Theon's side, demolishing any guard stupid enough to get within their range. From the ramparts, he could see Margaery's figure, Ghost by her side, as she prepared to enter the Western tower.

Jon finished a final opponent with a strike to the heart, and suddenly the bells rang, signaling the Stark forces to cheer loudly and their opponents to drop their weapons in surrender as the battle finished.


Ending A/N: Ah, Roose. Well, Robb certainly will need his blades soon enough, because we have Riverrun to consider. Before that though, a side story/interlude on the news that we all know about by now regarding House Stark, from the perspective from each of the Starks. Also, if anyone has any ideas of nicknames from Robb after this battle or just in general, it would be nice to give him an epithet!