I'm honestly so sorry about how long it's been! I've been exceptionally busy with uni work having to focus on assignments and once I finished those, every time I came to write this I got writers block. I'd also just gotten the idea of the Black Wolf Rises one shot where Torrhen and Dany get together before I began to focus on assignments and I just had to write it. Considering that ended up coming out at almost 9000 words you can see why it took me ages to finish. If you haven't checked out 'Fire and Ice' then make sure you do! Now I'm back with this story however, and it's an important chapter!

Hopefully my update schedule will be a lot better than it has been recently, but I have an essay due in in a couple of weeks so we shall see what happens. I've definitely not lost faith in this story though, I've planned up to Chapter 40 and there's still more to come after that!

As always, I own nothing but Durran, everything else belongs to George RR Martin or HBO.

The first night the 12,000 men of Durran's forces had stopped at Hayford Castle, and from there it was only a couple of days march up the Kingsroad towards the village of Brindlewood where a further 10,000 Westermen were holding up. Durran had ordered the town evacuated before the Baratheon army had arrived, and had passed a steady stream of villagers the day before arrival.

He set up camp in the village square, with Renly, Randyll Tarly and Daven Lannister, the new Lannister commander. As soon as the command tent was erected, Durran called a council meeting. He looked around the room and noticed a distinct lack of Westerners. Ser Daven had managed to keep a host of 5,000 away from the Northerners, but others hadn't been so lucky. Ser Addam Marbrand had been slain, as had the Strongboar, Ser Lyle Crakehall, and Ser Robert Brax. Three important families of the West had been torn apart by Robb Stark's assault.

"What happened?" Randyll Tarly asked.

"We marched East after Lord Tywin was killed, not really knowing what to do." The bearded Lannister said. "The indecision cost us, as soon as we had a plan, they decimated us. I was lucky enough to be leading the van, we were already on the move."

Durran clenched his teeth in annoyance. "We need to do something quickly. They have the numbers right now."

"We keep marching up the Kingsroad." Randyll told them. "We break off at the turn towards the Riverlands and march to Antlers. The Northmen will either need to face us as we get behind them or march to King's Landing, where repairs will be done by then and we can take their rear."

Daven nodded. "I like it. Catch them in two minds."

"If they choose to meet us, Lord Mace should have formed a second, larger host by then." Randyll continued. "Which can then take the Northerners in the rear."

"We should move tomorrow at first light then, ensure we can get as close to Harrenhal as we can in a single day." Daven said, and the council room nodded.

"Very well. See to your men." Randyll said, and the room began to disperse. Durran followed his uncle into his tent however, concerned at his lack of input.

His Uncle was just lying on the small bed staring up into space. Leaving Ser Barristan outside the tent, Durran made himself known. Renly looked over, and sat up.

"Your Grace, I thought the meeting was over." Renly said monotonously.

"It is Uncle." Durran said, pouring two glasses of wine and handing one to Renly. Renly took it and sipped is cautiously. "I'm here because I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine." Renly said quickly.

"No, you're not." Durran said. "It's clear to see that you are suffering from after we took King's Landing."

Renly sighed, and took a larger gulp of his drink. "We won the day."

"And yet you have acted like we lost." Durran tried to sound kind. "I know Loras was once your squire, is it his death? I understand if it is…"

"You understand." Renly scoffed. "You understand nothing."

Durran bit back an angry retort. "Then explain." He said.

"I grew up with Loras. He was my first real friend, he was my confidante. He was my lo… he was the only man I felt like I could trust unconditionally." Renly said, tears forming in his eyes. "And I watched him die. I watched him get engulfed by wildfire and melt. How am I meant to move on from that and be happy?"

Durran understood now. The slip of the tongue had given Renly's true relationship with Loras away. "You're not meant to move on." Durran said, sitting down. "You fight. You channel that rage, that hurt into something positive."

"I won't let you down in the war nephew." Renly said.

"I know." Durran smiled. "If you need to go back to King's Landing though…"

"I'm fine." Renly said sternly.

Durran nodded. "Ok." He said. They fell into silence for a moment, just staring at the tent sides when Durran spoke again. "I understand more now. If I lost Dany, I don't know how I'd go on."

Renly looked at Durran aghast. "I… I don't see how it's comparable Your Grace." He said nervously.

"Yes, you do, and so do I." Durran smiled. "I have no feelings against it Uncle, you love who you love. I love a Targaryen, my family's sworn enemy. I understand a bit about forbidden love."

Renly sighed. "When he died, I lost myself. I'm not the same man I was."

"I know, but you don't have to be. Be better in his memory." Durran said, standing. He placed his hand on Renly's shoulder comfortingly.

"Thank you, Your Grace." Renly nodded.

"Get some rest. I want you sharp for the march." Durran said, before exiting the tent. Ser Barristan was stood facing away. "How much of that did you hear?" Durran asked his Lord Commander.

"All of it, Your Grace. Only I did though." Ser Barristan told him.

"Not a word." Durran ordered. "We shall respect his privacy and his grief."

"Of course, Your Grace." Barristan nodded. Durran began walking then, making his way back to his tent to rest up himself.

Dany looked out over the city as her dragons flew outside over Blackwater Bay. Melisandre had told her how quickly they would grow, but even the Red Woman had been surprised at the extent of the growth. Rhaellar was the calmest, and was just big enough to be able to ride, though Dany wouldn't do such a thing until Durran was back.

She was pulled back into the room as Sansa Stark had given a painful tug of her hair with the hairbrush.

"Sorry, Your Grace." Sansa apologised.

"It's ok." Dany told the girl. They fell into silence again as the only noise became the brush moving through Dany's silver blonde hair. Moments passed and Dany chuckled lightly at the sight of Aelyx and Dārys play fighting mid-air.

"What's going to happen to me?" Sansa asked from behind her. Dany froze. She had gotten to know Sansa fairly well over the last few weeks, and sometimes forgot that it was her brother that Durran was at war against.

"I know Durran, he won't want harm to come to Robb but he cannot be allowed to stay as Lord of Winterfell, not after carrying on his war." Dany told her. "Durran will send him to the Wall, and Winterfell shall pass to you. We'll find you a good match Sansa I promise." At that, she felt Sansa relax slightly behind her, and went back to watching her Dragons. "They'll be big enough to ride soon, and I can do my part for Durran."

Sighing, Dany began imagining herself as a fearsome dragon rider until a knock on the door came, and Ser Arys entered.

"Your Grace, a Small Council meeting has been called." The Kingsguard of the Reach said.

"Thank you, Ser Arys. I'll be right down." Dany smiled. The door closed behind him, and Dany felt Sansa finish tying up her hair in an intricate Southern style. "The black and red dress today please, Sansa."

Dany arrived in the Small Council chambers to see the meeting was already underway, with Mace Tyrell discussing food imports from the Reach.

"… we can increase the number of wagons to 80 a day if needs be, Lord Hand." The Fat Flower was saying.

"Very good." Stannis nodded. He looked up and saw Dany at the doorway and stood, with the rest of the remaining Small Council following suit. "Your Grace."

"Lord Hand." Dany said regally. "I apologise for being late."

"Not to worry, we've prepared a seat." He said, pointing to a newly fashioned seat to the right-hand side of what she presumed was Durran's empty chair. Whereas Durran's had the Baratheon sigil printed on the leather, Dany was touched to see the dragon of House Targaryen printed on her one, in the Baratheon colours. She took a seat, and the men followed suit.

"My Lords. Please carry on." She instructed.

Mace Tyrell looked nervously at her, but coughed and continued. "Yes, so more food can be brought into the Red Keep."

"Into the city." Dany interrupted, trying to assert some authority. "I've been speaking with your daughter, Lord Tyrell and she informs me that the poor of the city would benefit much more from the foodstock you can bring in than we would here in the Keep."

Stannis nodded. "We shall keep 20 wagons a day, the other 60 shall be distributed at specified areas within the city." He said, the regent's authority ringing around the room. "The matter is closed. Varys, any news from Brindlewood?"

"Whispers, my Lord Hand." Varys said silkily. "The King has arrived this morning I have been told."

"Good." Stannis said.

"He requires more men be readied. They're anticipating the Northman either following them or attacking the city. Either way we need another host as soon as we can." Varys said.

"Lord Tyrell, how many men have you available in the city?" Baelish asked.

"With the walls just about repaired…" Mace Tyrell said, thinking. "18,000 able to march?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Stannis asked snappily. Dany had to hide the grin that was forming on her face.

"Telling My Lord." Tyrell nodded. "18,000 men ready."

"See to it they are ready at a moment's notice." Stannis ordered. Mace Tyrell nodded. Minor other details were discussed as Dany listened on, such as the slow stream of refugees coming into the city and the lack of noise from the Vale and Dorne, when Dany brought up a topic.

"We need to discuss Sansa Stark." She said.

"We do?" Baelish asked amusedly.

"With Robb Stark soon to be sent to the Wall and the two younger boys dead, she is the heir to Winterfell." Dany told them. "A match needs to be made. A suitable match that ties the North to the heartbeat of our Kingdom. Stefan perhaps?" She asked Stannis.

"Stefan is to be the Lord of Storm's End, he can't be a Lord Consort as well." Stannis shook his head. "No, somebody else."

"The Reach perhaps?" Dany asked. "Lord Tyrell, your younger nephew, Harlan, is it?"

"Garlan." Mace Tyrell corrected. "Yes… Perhaps if we're sending him up North, then his elder brother Willas would be more ideal no?"

"Willas, the cripple?" Baelish asked. "Isn't he your heir?"

"Lord Tyrell hasn't named his heir yet." Varys reminded Baelish. "He can easily name Garlan."

"I can." Mace said. "He would do well in the North, Willas. Yes. I consent to Willas marrying the Stark girl matrilineally."

"I shall talk to Sansa about it, if the Lord Regent agrees." Dany nodded to Stannis.

"Yes. It ties House Stark to a loyal House." Stannis said, more accusingly at Tyrell than anything. "First, we shall see to it that Robb Stark is defeated. Then we shall discuss the marriage in more detail, but gage the girl's opinion."

"Lord Hand." Dany nodded politely.

"If there's nothing else." Stannis said. Nobody had anything else to say, and slowly the room thinned out. Dany went to leave after Pycelle had shuffled out, but Stannis stopped her just as she got to the door.

"Your Grace." He had called, his eye still on some paperwork in front of him.

"Lord Stannis?"

Stannis didn't move his head, but he lifted his eye up to meet Dany's gaze. "Well done today." Was all he said, before focusing once more on his paperwork. "Go and spend some time with your, pets."

"Thank you." Dany tried to stop from grinning, before walking out of the room with Ser Arys following behind her.

The night was quiet. Most of the men were resting for the long march ahead the next day, and Durran was in his personal tent quietly sipping some lemon water.

Finishing the drink, he called his squire in to take off his armour. His Uncle Tyrion had enjoyed the Payne boy, so Durran had picked him himself. He didn't talk much, but being away from Dany hadn't put Durran in a talkative mood. Once he was out of his armour, in just a baggy shirt and black trousers he went to lay down, and get a few hours' sleep. Tossing, it took him a while but finally sleep overcame him.

He did not, however, expect to be woken up by screaming men and the face of Podrick Payne shaking him vigorously.

"Your Grace! Your Grace!" The boy was shouting.

"What? What's going on?" Durran asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Ambush, Your Grace." Barristan said from the tent door, where he and Ser Robar were stood, panting.

"The Starks have us penned. They killed the scouts and the lookouts. They fenced us in and set half the camp on fire." Robar growled angrily.

"What? How?" Durran asked angrily, walking towards his armour.

"There's no time Your Grace!" Barristan said, handing Durran Stormbringer. "We have to leave!"

"We have to fight, Ser!" Durran shouted back.

"They're everywhere." Robar told him. "They've surrounded us. Randyll Tarly was leading an offensive to the south but…"

"We need to go." Barristan said insistently, practically dragging Durran out by the scruff of his shirt. Immediately Durran looked around and saw burning tents everywhere. Men were screaming, either trying to put out the flames engulfing their bodies, or trying to hold their entrails or body parts in to keep them alive. Northerners were running through the camp, slaughtering the half-asleep army.

"How did this happen." Durran growled.

"They must have snuck men in as refugees of the Lannister army." Robar surmised. "Planted them as scouts and lookouts, and disposed of our own."

"It's what I would have done." Barristan nodded.

There was no more time to talk. A group of five Northmen came charging at them and Durran readied himself. Barefooted and almost unprotected, he feigned an attack to get on the offensive, before twisting his body past the oncoming sword and swiping upwards. Sword connected with flesh and bone, as the Northman's sword arm came flying off of his body. There was no time to stop though, as another one roared, and Durran ducked underneath the sword swing and thrust Stormbringer into his gut. Wrenching it out, he kicked the Northman to one side before taking a fallen Stark shield.

Feeling more protected, he found another enemy and raised his shield to block an arrow coming for his chest, before rushing into battle once more.

The camp was like a maze, fire was everywhere and it took a good amount of time to find Randyll Tarly and Renly, fighting a group of Northmen. Durran and his small party helped, and with only minor cuts, they won and had a small rest bite.

"We've broken through the barriers but they've got the camp surrounded. We can make a break for it but it'll have to be quick." Randyll said. Men were trickling in to the large unburnt area, and Durran surmised about 12,000 people had to be there, holding off Northmen or looking after the injured.

"We need a distraction." Durran told them. "Look like we're making an offensive to the south, then break through somewhere else.

"East." Barristan nodded. "Stokeworth."

"Aye." The group agreed.

"I'll lead it." Renly said. Durran looked at him in shock.

"It's a suicide mission." He complained. "No."

"You're the only one that matters Durran!" Renly roared. "Ser Barristan, Lord Randyll. Get the King to safety. Ser Robar, with me." Ser Barristan was about to complain, but Renly cut him off. "The King is still a minor and I am the brother of the Hand and Master of Laws! Protect your King, Lord Commander."

Barristan looked towards Randyll Tarly, who just nodded solemnly. "Very well, My Lord."

"No!" Durran cried. "I won't leave you!"

Renly just looked strongly at his Nephew, before giving a final nod to Lord Tarly. Durran complained and went to follow his Uncle, but he didn't get a choice. Randyll and Ser Barristan dragged the struggling King between them, picking up men as they went. They could just about hear Renly giving a rousing speech to the men left behind before he fell out of sight through the fire.

He was angry, stupidly angry and he took it out on the oncoming Northman. The four of them and about ten Baratheon soldiers made it over the fence, and were pleasantly surprised to see most Northmen had fallen for the bait. He did, however, notice an older man in Stark armour bringing men to meet them.

"House Glover." Podrick Payne told them. "A silver armoured fist on a field of red. And House Cerwyn, the battle-axe on a silver field."

"Halt!" Lord Glover said. "Nobody leaves."

"I'll handle this this Your Grace." Ser Barristan said, gripping his sword tighter.

"No, hold the others off." Durran said. He stood in front of Lord Glover. "Let us go, My Lord, and I shall spare you my wrath after we win this war."

"Who is this?" The young man next to him laughed. "Some street rat by the looks of it."

"Speak carefully." Ser Barristan growled. "You're talking to your King."

"Our King is Robb, of House Stark, Ser Barristan." Galbart Glover said. Barristan was surprised at being recognised. "I remember you yes, I was there when Roose Bolton wanted your head after the Trident, but we talked King Robert out of it."

"For which I am grateful for my Lord, it allowed me to serve my rightful King, Durran." Barristan said.

"Treat them well." Glover told his men. "King Robb doesn't want Baratheon harmed."

Durran had had enough though. His anger was brimming to the surface and he had snapped. He grabbed Glover's armed hand with his left hand, and lashed out with his right. His fist met Glover's face, and the older man toppled to the floor.

Around him, swords began to clash as the Northmen and the Crown Loyalists met, but Durran's focus was solely on pummelling Galbart Glover's face to a pulp. Blow after blow came, before he was being dragged off by somebody. He grinned to himself to see nothing left but a mess of brain, blood and bone where the face of Lord Glover was once. Suddenly a blow to the face came from nowhere.

"You fucking cunt." The young man from before growled. "You'll die for that. Cley Cerwyn will be known as the man that cut down Durran Bara…"

His rant was cut short, as a pike protruded through the Cerwyn's face. The Northerner dropped to the floor with a thud, and holding the pike was none other than Podrick Payne.

"Come, Your Grace." He panted, blood pouring from a cut on his cheek. "We need to go."

Durran nodded. Looking around he saw Ser Barristan helping a wounded Baratheon man up, and Randyll Tarly leaning heavily on Heartsbane. Nodding, he let Pod help him up before he picked up Stormbringer and hobbled off towards the East, looking back once they were far enough away to see the final stages of the battle, a clear loss for his forces.

Being summoned to Stannis' chambers just as she was getting ready for bed wasn't ideal for Dany, but dutifully she made her way to the Tower of the Hand. She entered Stannis' solar to find Stefan and Stannis sat at his desk.

"Your Grace." Stannis said. "Please." He said, showing her to a chair to the side of Stefan. Dany took a seat.

"Stefan, how are you?" She asked.

"Healing, Your Grace." He smiled. "It's a challenge getting used to everything again, but I'm managing."

The smiths had forged an iron hand for the young man on Durran's orders, and he was sporting it currently. It was a fine piece of work, Dany could admit.

"What was so urgent?" Dany asked.

"This." Stannis said, handing her a raven message. "It came just a few moments before I asked you here."

Dany saw the broken seal of the lamb of Stokeworth. Opening it, she read the message, horrified at its message. "Only a handful survived?" She gasped.

"A cowardly attack." Stefan snarled.

"But a successful one. Robb Stark knew to meet us in the field was foolish and has taken out half of our army in one go." Stannis told them. "We're lucky the King survived."

"What of Uncle Renly?" Stefan asked, eyes widening.

"No word." Dany said, reading the parchment again. "That can't be good, they mention Tarly, Barristan, the Payne boy?"

"We can assume he died in the ambush." Stannis said, gritting his teeth. "I just thought you should know. Lady Tanda is sending them to King's Landing as soon as dawn breaks and I've already sent a hundred men to meet them."

"Very good." Dany sighed. "We shall find out everything on the morrow." Rising, she bid the Baratheon duo good night before returning to her chambers.

Sansa Stark was there to help her get ready for bed, and it took Dany a minute to compose herself in front of the Stark girl.

"Is everything alright, my Queen?" Sansa asked.

Dany snorted quietly. "Alright. No, not really Sansa." She sighed. "You mustn't go wandering now. Stick to your chambers and my own. Do you understand?"

Sansa was concerned. "Has something happened? Did Robb… did my traitor brother do something?"

Dany noticed the slip. "I can't tell you much of anything, you understand that, right?" Sansa nodded. "But yes. A battle of sorts was fought and Robb came out as victor. The King lives though, and I promise you he won't take this well at all."

There we are, strike one to Robb! I know many wanted me to have Durran hand Robb a new arsehole, but Robb was a very capable commander who only lost the war in my opinion due to his lust for Talisa. If he didn't marry her, as in this, then he would have kept the Karstarks for longer as they still would have respected him enough to keep his wishes about Jaime Lannister. Without Cat letting Jaime go too, Rickard Karstark wouldn't think him weak for keeping her as a prisoner. There's the added thing of keeping the Frey's too. All in all I blame Talisa for his losing the war in the show, and in the scenario this fic I genuinely believe he'd have had something up his sleeve.

The battle came from an inspiration given to me by a fellow fanfiction writer dustbutterfly, a user who has extensive history knowledge, giving me multiple ideas for things in both this story and my Lannister one. It's based off of the Massacre at Mystic in the Pequot War. I don't think I've done it too much justice, but I'm happy enough with the outcome.

I'll leave this Authors Note fairly short, but I hope you all enjoy this chapter and please remember to let me know what you think. I love hearing your views on the story and if there's anything I need to improve on, you're the best audience to let me know what that is.

Reviews:

vampwalker709: Think that's a bit harsh. Robb is a young man that's winning the war, of course he'd carry it on especially considering Durran is part Lannister.

Shini Kurogane: As said in the previous review, Robb is winning the war so would clearly carry it on rather than hang his tail in shame and run. He still is after justice, Cersei is still alive and they still have Sansa. Durran won't be going easy anymore that's for sure.

Guest (winning): Robb's caught in a dilemma, if he surrenders after winning so far, he'll be seen as a coward. I think he's a lot more complex than you're making out. He never chose to be King, it was forced upon him and now he thinks that he has to keep the crown for his people. Brandon, we have no idea what he was actually except rash. Lyanna married Rhaegar because he annulled his marriage to Elia, so he wasn't married.

trollzor69: Valar Morghulis.

jgs237: Robb is my favourite character. He wasn't overly full of himself to me, more lost in a dilemma of wanting his family back and fighting a war of independence he never truly wanted. Ser Kevan was a shame, but while he's a good character and I like him a lot, he's no Tywin, he's best at following not truly leading.

BLACK-OP1: Brindlewood doesn't have a castle, it's only a village so that's not the omen that came true this chapter, the tower has barely anything to do with the North.

Many Faced Mage: Maybe soon, maybe a long way off, or maybe they've already planted the seeds for a baby…

Guest (Dany baby): Stefan isn't going on any wars any time soon with one arm! I presume you mean Durran!

Hail King Cerion: I just thought if they were winning having thoroughly decimated the Lannisters three times, Robb's bannermen wouldn't allow him to give up.

Guest (Robb): Whereas he's my favourite! I'd say it's more his bannermen pressuring him than he thinks he's high and mighty.

Guest (Renly): I'm glad you've picked up on his change of personality! Not many have mentioned it in reviews.

OverlordMetatron: He's not blaming Durran, he's blaming the Lannisters, which Durran is half of. If he's seen bowing down to a Lannister while he's winning the war he'd be ridiculed by his bannermen. Robb is at war for independence now, not just for Ned.

Marinebrat25: I'd say the Littlefinger thing is more down to him not knowing Littlefinger's motivations, so there's still an ounce of trust there. I like the idea of that Baratheon Fury thing, but I'm not overly sure how it would work.

Michelledavidson: The North and Riverlands also bent to Aerys but broke that oath. The way I see it is that they are winning, and until it becomes impossible to them to win, they will continue that. The Northerners are proud, probably some of the proudest people in the realm and that's not always a good thing, as proven here. He's arrogant yes, as most Lords are, and most Northerners are. Lyanna Mormont is as arrogant as they come and she's a child. Dishonourable? I'd disagree. He's not sworn any vows himself, he was fighting for his Father and then he was crowned King in a move that wasn't really his choice. You're mistaken about honour too. Yes, they value honour, but not above survival. It was the Vale that are the most honourable Kingdom, a trait that was passed on to Ned yes, but most of the Starks in history couldn't give two shits about honour. Theon Stark invaded Andalos, killed everyone and placed the dead Andals heads on spikes all around the eastern coast. As for the Tyrells, I can't remember the story but I read somewhere something that resonated with me. They care about winning above most else, they sided with the Targaryen's and for 280 years the Targaryen's were clearly the strongest House going. Now that they've been proven to lose? I'm not so sure. Mace Tyrell cares about crowns, if Robb got him an alliance, Margaery would be a Queen, and Mace himself could declare himself King. You're overly harsh on the Tully's too, I presume you're of the mindset that Catelyn is a moron because of the way she treats Jon (fairly enough in my eyes) and because we understand the consequences of her actions, which at the time with her knowledge and personality, was just what I'd do. Also, Tywin is dead, the Lannisters only have Daven Lannister now.

HoneyBear94: Thank you for the kind words! I hope you like this chapter too!