—The Riverlands—

Near the outskirts of Lambswold…

Rain… it was supposed to rinse away the filth. It was supposed to cleanse and renew. And yet for all the water that poured from the sky, it could not wash away death. The maesters and scholars were no doubt coming up with some flowery name to give it, but to the men fighting and dying, it was war. It was a war between two brothers for the throne of their mother. The throne that had been held by their family for eight hundred years. A war between the last two members of House Baratheon for the throne of Westeros. And although the poets and historians made wars seem glorious and beautiful, it was dirty and bloody.

So very, very bloody…

Captain Gawain Thayne in the Royal Army, Lord of Redmont since the death of his father three months prior, sat on a stump ignoring the rain that soaked his mud and blood-stained uniform. He was staring out at a field that was quickly becoming marsh. The bodies of dead soldiers, both rebel and loyalist were slowly sinking into the mud.

"Captain?" A voice behind him asked tentatively.

Gawain did not even have to turn around to know who it was. "Yes, Kay?" he responded.

Private Kay, a recently conscripted peasant boy from the Stormlands, wearing an ill-fitting uniform, wiped the rainwater from his eyes. "Ser, are you alright?" He asked.

Gawain was silent for a moment then with a deep sigh before rising from the stump he had been sitting on and turned to look at the private, who gave his best salute. Gawain gave a thin smile "I'm fine." He said solemnly as he turned and headed back to camp, with the private following a few steps behind.

The arrival of Stark reinforcements had currently brought the advancement of the Royal Army to a halt. However, the loyalist forces had still managed to maintain their siege of Riverrun. The ancient seat of House Tully was indeed a unique and formidable fortress. But was not stopping the loyalist forces from trying. Surrounding the castle with a series of trenches, barricades, and hammering the defendants with heavy cannon bombardments. Though word had reached the loyalists of Daemon's victory at the Iron Islands, Colonel Loreon Lannister, the commander of the royal forces in the Riverlands was confident that once Riverrun fell that total victory would follow soon afterward. Many high-ranking officers in the Royal Army shared this view; that when Riverrun falls, order would then be restored.

Though, some thought, out of fear of being heard, that a reign under King Argilac could be called anything but peaceful.

"Captain!" arrived a scout. "We scouted the area along the kingsroad. Riverrun is not too far from here. If we hurry, we can make it on foot."

"And do what?" questioned another incredulously. "The minute we set foot in the Riverlands, we'll all be caught in the middle of the crossfire! Both sides are wary of the other based on double agents in their midst. Look, I do not know about you gents, but I have a wife and child! Desertion was one thing, but if we are caught then we will all die anyway! I mean, why did you drag me along with you? Surrender seems reasonable—"

"We're all technically traitors anyway!" exclaimed a recruit. "We surrender to the crown, we die. We surrender to the rebels, and we die. My honor was sullied since... since that fateful night."

"Orders were orders, right?!"

"Every man, woman, and child in that village were slaughtered! Every one of them... I can still see their faces in my sleep, their voices begging for mercy..."

Kay turned to Gawain. "Well, captain... What are your orders?" he asked with uncertainty in his voice. "Do we seek the rebels or camp out here?"

Gawain was silent, the voices of the men behind him becoming background noise as he thought deeply. Three months… it had been three months since he had thought of this plan. The plot for it came to fruition when he had stood over the body of his father, crammed without care into a cheap pine box. His father, who had called him a disappointment. His father, whom he could barely stand, had been in the same room as him. His father… over whose corpse Gawain had mourned.

Lord Elyan Thayne, Brigadier General in the Royal Calvary had been loyal to Argilac. He had called the King cruel, lustful, and a brute, but he had remained loyal. And what did Argilac along with his advisors do? They spat on his loyalty and sent Elyan to his death in a battle that should never have happened.

On that day, Gawain had sworn vengeance. It had been slow and grinding work, seeking out allies amongst his fellow captains. Those who shared his beliefs. Meeting in secret and planning their next steps with careful precision. Three long grueling months of playing the faithful captain to the King on the Andalosinian Throne while he and his compatriots prepared themselves and got their loved ones out beyond the reach of the King and his vengeful Talons. Mere desertion was not enough; Gawain had decided he would create an opportunity to deal the loyalists a firm kick in the balls. Only this morning had he received confirmation from the twelve other captains who chose to accompany him, informing him they were ready. Coming out of his thoughts, he looked over his shoulder at his men.

"Get some rest lads. We will not be moving again until nightfall."

Their group would not be officially declared AWOL until morning but come the dawn of tomorrow…it would not matter anymore.

Riverrun…

The sound of a cannon from the battlements of Riverrun seemed to shake the very walls from which it was launched. The iron sphere sailed through the air and exploded as it crashed to the earth, flinging loyalist soldiers into the air. The rebel force within the battlements of Riverrun, over which the personal banner of Daemon Baratheon fluttered proudly in the breeze, were intent on holding the castle against the enemy for as long as necessary.

Though, some could not help but wonder just how long that would be?

"Get those cannons unfucked and lay down some suppressing fire!" shouted Colonel Vargo. "Plug that hole!"

"Come on, you lot! You want to live forever!?" ordered General Willem Tully, the new Lord of Riverrun. "Then give it everything you've got!"

Mortar fire, cannons, muskets, and swordplay, whatever method of combat was used were thrown at both sides. With communications cut, one could only hope for word from either their northern bases in the Riverlands or from headquarters in the Eyrie.

For now, the rebel troops are keeping the Royal Army bogged down in a nasty ground war.

"We need reinforcements!" shouted a corporal.

"Cut the chatter!"

"Hold the line! Do not let any of those bastards get close to Riverrun!"

It was hard brutal fighting. Most had barely two hours of sleep, but they kept themselves moving by reminding themselves that if they lost, that death certainly awaited them. The stories of what happened to captured rebels were well known at this point.

And certainly, none of them wanted to give Gerion Lannister's preening son the pleasure of claiming to have brought Riverrun. The Seven hells would freeze over before a Tully surrendered to a Lannister.

As if to emphasize that point, Willem, after reloading his rifle, took careful aim at an officer wearing the red coat laced with gold, the uniform of House Lannister, and fired. The back of the officer's head exploded in a shower of blood, bone, and brain. "Ha! Take that, runts!" he shouted, and his men cheered around him before they dropped down to avoid a hail of musket fire.

From a distance, Gawain Thayne and his men observed the battle from afar.

"Seven hells," a corporal exclaimed, "it's a slaughterhouse down there!"

"There's so many of them down there!" Kay observed.

Gawain calculated the number of troops and field artillery both sides had. He could see the Lannister army consisted of over 50,000 troops plus two hundred siege cannons/mortars whereas the rebels had 35,000 men, 1,700 militia, and one hundred artillery cannons since the battle had continued for almost one month. And yet still, the loyalists maintained a strategic advantage.

"Halt!"

Gawain and his men were caught off-guard by the arrival of forty-five rebel sentries circling them. They had spotted them.

"Lower your weapons. Now!"

Instead of complying, Gawain's men instantly raised their weapons. Rifles and pistols were cocked, while swords were drawn. Both sides pointed their weapons at each other. It was a standoff, with each side seeming to dare the other to make the first move.

However, Gawain was having none of it. "Come on children. Play nice," he said with some mild mirth as he unhooked his belt, which held his holstered pistol and his sheathed sword and let it drop to the ground.

His men stared at him in shock and then they begrudgingly lowered their weapons. Gawain then turned his attention to the rebel who had first spoken. He raised his arms in the air making sure to keep his hands visible and open as he walked toward the man. "You in charge of this lot?" he asked casually. The rebel said nothing, only frowned. Gawain took his silence as affirmation. "Good cause I am in charge of this lot." He said as he cocked his head to his group. "Now that we have got that settled, I need you to take me to your lead Commander."

"And why should I do that?"

Gawain smiled patiently. "Because I am going to tell them how they can break the siege and light a fire under Argilac's kingly ass, savvy?"

"That'll be up to the general to decide," the lead rebel scout said, his eyes darting him suspiciously. "Clamp them in irons. Take their weapons."

"Yeah, yeah. The general will decide what to do with them!"

"Not a wise decision to go against the general."

One by one, the rebel sentries seized their armaments and clamped iron chains around each of their wrists, including Gawain's, despite his men's protestations.

As they were dragged roughly through the battlefield, behind the raging battle all around them, Gawain and his men were pulled into Riverrun. The castle was a strong three-sided castle, although not especially large. It is a tenth the size of Harrenhal, bordered on the north by the Tumblestone and on the south by the Red Fork, while on the west a third side faces a massive, manufactured ditch. In a time of danger, the sluice gates can be opened to fill a wide moat and leave the castle surrounded on all three sides by water, turning Riverrun into an island and leaving it unassailable.

Before long, Gawain noticed a middle-aged man in his late fifties holding a cane in one hand and a musket pistol in the other.

"I want each of our scouts to escort our engineers behind enemy lines to disable those mortars," he instructed. "Sergeant Fuller, have your men stationed here and take the heat off our Stark allies."

"Yes, ser!"

"Lieutenant Raymond, get your men and munitions up that northern barricade."

"Aye, ser!"

The sentries hurled Gawain and his men forward roughly.

"General Samson," the lead rebel called out. "We've caught these intruders near our southeastern flank. Could be another pretense for assassins to sneak inside our base. What shall we do with them?"

"Did... Did he say... G-General S-Samson?" Kay said with quiet awe.

Samson turned his attention towards them. Eyeing them up and down, he stroked his beard. "You're a Thayne, aren't you?" he said with an authoritative tone.

Gawain smiled and nodded his head. "Yes, ser. I'm Gawain Thayne, Lord of Redmont and Captain of the 34th Infantry Corps. I would salute you properly, ser, but as you can see…" he gestured to his manacled hands. When Samson did not respond, Gawain continued to speak. "You don't remember me, but I sat in the back of your class at the academy and slept mostly. Though I think you knew my father, Brigadier General Elyan Thayne."

Samson arched a brow, he recalled Elyan Thayne quite well, an excellent cavalry officer. And he remembered Gawain, though more by reputation. He had been a brilliant but unfocused student at the Royal Military Academy in King's Landing, graduating third in his class but with more demerits than anyone else. There had been rumors that Gawain had been responsible for sneaking a live horse into the Commandant's office, though nothing was ever proven. During the graduation ceremony, in which the top students received their knighthood from a member of the Kingsguard, Gawain had instead chosen to be knighted by an over-the-hill tourney hedge knight.

The officer who had brought Gawain and his men to Riverrun walked forward and offered Samson Gawain's sword. The Master of War unsheathed the blade, instantly recognizing it for what it was: Valyrian steel.

There was a collective gasp and even a few whistles of amazement among everyone. Valyrian steel is worth more than a hundred gold mines and the mountains on top of them. They were beyond rare and highly sought after. There was no mistaking this sword, with the moonstone pommel and the purple ripples on the black metal, this was Nightfall. The legend said that Greyson 'The Guardsman' Thayne, the first Master of War, took the sword off a dead ironborn warrior he had slain. Nightfall was mentioned in the song 'The Gold and the Black' along with the Lannister sword, Brightroar. The song told of two knights locked in eternal battle due to pride and loyalty.

"If you are done looking at my sword. You and I should talk," Gawain said. "Because I think, General, you are going to want to hear what I propose."

"Hmm. Ah yes, I remember you now. Ironside's boy," Samson stated. "Always had to smack you upside your skull just to make you pay attention in my classroom." He turned to the sentries. "Unbind them."

The sentries grumbled and begrudgingly unhook the shackles from their wrists. Hearing the chains fall and its grip loosened, comfort finally arrived.

"However, trust is hard to come by. We have already had plenty of Argilac's men feigning defection only to try to kill me. And with communications severed, we are on our own for now. But if it is important, speak. If not, don't waste my time, lad."

"If I wanted you dead, General, I wouldn't resort to faking defection to do it," Gawain said as he massaged his wrist. "But you are right. To the point, Argilac and his cronies sent my father to his death. He gave them loyalty and they spat in his face. I want revenge and I will not serve that tyrant any longer."

That didn't surprise most of the people who heard, Argilac was becoming rather infamous for killing anyone he suspected of treason or having rebel sympathy.

"I've got twelve other captains who are on my side, each one of them in command of about 250 to 300 men – all of them are spread along the siege line that surrounds Riverrun. We have been working and planning for three months, we can help you end this stalemate."

"You'd need to be reminded that while most people you see here share your sentiment, more remain warry of your intentions, captain," Samson stated.

Gawain could see all eyes remained firmly locked on them. He could see it in their eyes. They did not trust him or his men. So much distrust and suspicion were in the air.

But as Grand General of the Rebel Army and Master of War, all military decisions lay solely with Samson.

"But if are serious, then you will need to prove yourself. Speak plainly. What do you propose?"

Gawain crouched down to the ground and began to draw in the dirt, creating a rough drawing of the siege around the castle. "Tonight is a new moon. The sky is going to be pitch black. Now my compatriots have been positioned at these exact locations," he made X-marks on the map. "They managed to get most of the men placed on sentry duty at key places, like the caches of black powder and ammunition." He drew the spots where they were stored. "At the hour the wolf, I am to send off a colored flare which will be the signal. My men will launch off two other flares," he grinned at Samson. "They would have been meant to get your attention."

Samson said nothing and continued to stroke his beard, so Gawain returned to the map.

"When those flares go off, it is a sign to begin. The sentries will set fire to the powder kegs and blow them to hell. While the rest will have been going to the tents to slit the throats of the officers and throwing oil-filled bottles at the tents of sleeping soldiers, turning the whole siege line into a burning furnace of confusion. And that was where you lot are meant to come in." He drew an arrow from Riverrun to the encampment, "I assumed that from the battlements you would see the blaze, hear the bloody scream, and take advantage of it. You lot send out your calvary and cut through them like piss through the snow." He said as he looked around at the crowd of people who were now listening. "They will scatter and run, straight to the Lion cub Colonel himself. A disorganized army on the route, the line surrounding the castle broken, and unaware that a suitable number of his captains mutinied. Lannister will have only two options: stand and fight or withdraw down south. Either way by the time he gets reorganized, your lot could be reinforced and ready to tie his tail into a knot."

"Hmm," Samson hummed. "An interesting proposal. Though I must warn you, anything we throw at them they will seek to counter. And remember this: Loreon Lannister is an experienced commander and deadly with both gun and sword. General Rodrik and Colonel Brandon Stark are doing all they can just to slow him down on the field. Do NOT underestimate him. So, you will only get one try."

A private ran in. "General! Ser, our men on the frontlines report suspicious activity from the enemy! They are preparing another push!"

"They're up to something," Samson suspected. "Send word to our battalion leaders at once." He turned to Gawain. "You want to help? Then get a move on, captain. That's an order."

Gawain gave a cocky smile and took back his sword and gun belt and then gave a smart salute with a click of the heels, "Yes, General!"

Chapter End

Author's Note: And here we are with a new chapter and introducing a brand-new character, Gawain Thayne. Now to give a little run down, Gawain is not my OC – he belongs to another user I've been writing some Game of Thrones roleplay on DeviantArt, Knight-Bishop. Here's some info he managed to provide to us:

Name: Gawain Thayne
Age: 25
Height: 5' 11"
Hair: Dark brown
Eyes: Amber
Ethnicity: Andal
Allegiance: Argilac (formerly), Daemon (current)
Noble Status: Lord (attained) & Ser
Military Rank: Royal army Captain (stripped)
Personality: Described as intelligent, driven, and courageous by some or gruff, blunt, and stubborn by others. He is fiercely loyal to his friends and the men under his command. He does not shy away from danger and though he values honesty, he is not above using subterfuge to achieve victory.

And that's that. Given his introduction into the story, how will this intervention affect the civil war between the Baratheon brothers? Stay tuned for the release of the next chapter.