Author's Note: This is update 1 of 2 for today. Warning for language and violence.
Chapter 11
Old Allies, New Paths
Yohn
The Lord of Runestone has seen his fair share of battle. He has fought against the Clansmen of the Vale many times as well as fighting in both Robert's Rebellion and the Greyjoy Rebellion. He has killed men more times than he would care to remember, but he has never flinched from doing what must be done. But he was glad that common sense seemed to finally be prevailing where this new conflict was concerned. A few months ago Yohn and his sons Andar and Robar travelled to King's Landing to take part in the tourney that Yohn's friend King Robert had organised to honour Ned Stark's appointment as his new Hand. Ned being Ned did not take part in the tourney, but Yohn and his sons did. They all lost but Yohn did not mind as much as his youthful self would have done. Then weeks later during a hunt that Yohn and Andar took part in Robert was mortally wounded by a boar. Yohn and his son helped to bring Robert back to the Red Keep before finalising their preparations to leave the capitol. Robert died the next day, and Yohn heard that Ned had been arrested for treason. Fearing that Queen Cersei would give an order for him to be arrested as well Yohn rode for the Vale with Andar beside him. Robar had left much earlier to join Lord Renly, and Yohn learned much later that he was now a Kingsguard knight in service to Renly who named himself King.
Yohn had felt bad for leaving the capitol when Ned had been arrested; he knew Ned well enough to know that he would never commit treason, especially against Robert. He has known them since they were boys fostered with old Lord Jon at the Eyrie, and he knew that they were best friends. He would have helped Ned if he could but he only had his eldest son and a small guard so he could not do much good at all. When he returned to Runestone he gave the order for his bannermen to raise their levies, knowing that Ned's son would no doubt call his own banners. As he was getting ready he received a raven from Lady Lysa Arryn commanding him to stand down, declaring that the conflict had nothing to do with the Vale. Yohn was incensed at this command, but being an honourable man he followed his lady's order. For weeks he sat at his ancestral seat and spoke with his fellow lords and his vassals while at the same time trying to convince Lady Arryn to send aid to the Riverlands; they were her lord father's lands and they were being attacked by Lord Lannister's men. Still Lady Arryn did nothing, much to Yohn's annoyance.
After more than a couple of months of sitting around waiting Yohn had received another raven, only this time the message had the Stark direwolf upon the seal. He opened the letter and read that which seemed to be impossible; Lord Lannister was taken prisoner along with his second son Tyrion and two of his nephews by none other than Robb Stark himself. Ned's lad had asked him to come to Riverrun to discuss how to deal with the Lannisters and Yohn decided to urge Lady Arryn to allow him to go, and to send her own representative as well. He thought that she would stir now that her sister's son had achieved such a victory, but he could not be any more wrong. Lady Arryn threatened to have him arrested if he ever mentioned this matter to her again, and once again ordered her bannermen to stand down. However as he was growing impatient Yohn received a surprising visit from Lady Anya Waynwood and Lord Horton Redfort, both of whom declared their support for Robb Stark. Not long after that other Houses throughout the Vale declared their intent to march out to war. Lady Arryn commanded and threatened her lords from the safety of the Eyrie but most would not pay her heed. The Graftons and a few other Houses were refusing to gather their men and join the war, while Ser Lyn Corbray was challenging everyone who defied Lady Arryn and calling them oathbreakers; the fool even sent a challenge for a duel to Yohn which he promptly ignored.
After a few days of preparation the knights and men-at-arms of the Vale marched out with Yohn and Andar at the front with Lord Redfort and Lady Waynwood beside them. No one tried to stop them as they marched out, which Yohn was grateful for. His only concern was that he had left enough men to defend Runestone should any of the other Houses try to seize his lands. Nevertheless he trusted his master-at-arms and chosen castellan, Ser Samwell Stone, to defend Runestone should the worst happen. Barely four days after they had passed the Bloody Gate the Vale host was informed that Ned had escaped from King's Landing with his daughters. Yohn was grateful that his friend had managed to escape from Cersei, and the news did much to raise the morale of the men even more. When the host was two days ride from Riverrun Yohn heard something that he just could not quite believe; Ned was now the King in the North, with all of his bannermen swearing oaths to him along with the Riverlords. That night Yohn and the other lords of the Vale gathered to discuss this rather surprising news.
Just as Yohn had thought some lords declared that the Vale should bend to the Starks while most were immediately against the idea due to the blood soaked past between the Vale and the North from over a thousand years ago. Before Yohn could shout those fools down Anya stood and counselled that they speak with Ned first and then discuss the matter properly about whether they should bend to the Starks or the Baratheons after the war was won. Horton however pointed out that both Stannis and Renly were neither particularly suitable choices, with Renly being tied to the power hungry Tyrells whom most of the Vale lords were not too keen on and Stannis having taken to a foreign faith and intending to overthrow the faith of the Seven. That had angered every one of the gathered lords; when their ancestors came to Westeros from across the Narrow Sea the Andals landed in the Vale, and the faith had spread from there to begin with. One of the more pious lords had declared that they should not follow the Starks due to their insistence of following the old faith, saying that Ned would make them abandon the Seven. Yohn had added his voice at that point, silencing every one of the lords. He pointed out that the Manderlys of White Harbour and some of their vassal Houses who live in the North kept faith with the Seven and were not ever persecuted for it by the Starks or any of the other Northern Houses.
"I know Ned well enough to know that he would never make us bow before the weirwood trees and pray to the old gods," he told them. "Ned is a man of honour. He was raised by Lord Arryn alongside our late King Robert. He like so many others from the North keep the old gods as they have done since long before the Wall was raised to keep out the Others. His wife Lady Catelyn, or Queen Catelyn as I should probably say now, has worshipped the Seven all her life. Ned loves her dearly to the point that he had built a sept in Winterfell for her to pray in. Their children have been raised to respect both religions, with young Robb keeping his father's gods while showing respect to his mother's faith. The Seven will never become dominant in the North, but that does not matter." The same pious lord who spoke earlier was outraged by that statement, and Yohn had to calm himself before continuing. "You are all worried about loosing our gods if we support Ned when we would only loose our gods if we support Stannis. Ned rules with justice and honour, which to us of the Vale is far more important. Ned cares not for what gods we keep so long as one does not try to convert anyone from their faith to another." The lords fell quiet as they realised the truth to Yohn's words. "The choice before us is simple my lords; support those who do not care one whit for us and would enforce their will upon us without hearing us, or support those who care for justice and would listen to any of our grievances and not try to make us abandon thousands of years of tradition. The Baratheons who would do as they wish and ignore us, or the Starks who value tradition and honour and would treat us equally." After Yohn had put it across like that the decision was indeed very simple to make.
Now Yohn was placing his sword by Ned's feet along with Horton and Anya, who had taken her son's sword and placed it down herself. They had just rode through the gates of Riverrun with several of their knights accompanying them, and as they entered the courtyard Yohn saw Ned standing with a crown atop his head. He was stood beside Catelyn who looked as beautiful as ever and two girls who Yohn recognised as Ned's daughters. There was no sign of young Robb, but Yohn did notice Ned's bastard son Jon off in the distance. Once Yohn and the others had placed their swords down he spoke, his voice loud and clear.
"Your grace, I Yohn of House Royce, the Lord of Runestone, do hereby declare fealty to House Stark of Winterfell." Horton and Anya made their own declarations of fealty as well, and after they did Ned held his hand up.
"I accept your oaths my lords, my lady," he said to them. "And I welcome your support. Now, let us go inside." Yohn followed Ned with Anya and Horton on either side of him. They were joined by the other lords, including Yohn's bannermen Lords Royce Coldwater and Uthor Tollet, and Ser Damon Shett. Once everyone was gathered in the great hall of Riverrun Ned turned to his good-brother Ser Edmure. The Tully heir stepped forward along with some servants who either held dishes with pieces of bread and a dish of salt or held a carafe full of water and a plate with small cups.
"My honoured guests," Ser Edmure began, "I welcome you in my walls and at my table. I extend my hospitality and offer my protection in light of the Seven." As Ser Edmure spoke the servants offered the bread and salt to the Vale lords. Yohn took a piece of bread and dipped it into the dish of salt before putting it into his mouth and eating it, then he took a cup of water and drank. All of the other lords from the Vale did the same, as did the lords from the Riverlands and the North. Even though they were all allies here the custom of guest right was still to be observed.
"I thank you for your hospitality Ser Edmure," Yohn spoke after he finished his drink and returned the cup. He sat down just across from Ned as he also sat down with Catelyn and his daughters beside him. It was then that Yohn noticed some Dornishmen lingering nearby. "The Dornish offer to fight for you as well your grace?" he asked him, somewhat surprised. Ned looked over to the Dornishmen before looking back, his face as grim and stern as ever.
"Robb sent word to many strongholds including Sunspear after his victory over Tywin Lannister," Ned answered. "To the Dornish he offered them the head of Princess Elia's murderer as well as the killer of her daughter Princess Rhaenys." Yohn nodded his head at that. Smart lad that Robb, he thought. "As such we have reached an agreement with House Martell, and Prince Oberyn will send word to his brother Prince Doran to ask for Dornish spear-men. Now we just have to worry about ending this war." Yohn bowed to Ned and helped himself to a plate of fruit that was placed on the table between them.
"Ned, I am sorry about not being there to help you when you were falsely imprisoned," he told him. "I should have helped you somehow, even though I probably would've been of little help..."
"Nonsense Yohn," Ned interrupted. "You only had Andar and Robar with you as well as a small guard detail. I don't resent you for not being there. Truth be told I probably should've trusted others to help me remove Joffrey from the throne."
"So part of that is true then?" Anya spoke up in a stern voice. "You planned to remove Joffrey and his siblings?"
"And give the Iron Throne to Stannis," Ned added, his voice just as stern. "That was my intention Lady Waynwood. Although if I knew then what I know now about Stannis..." Ned left that hanging unfinished. After a moment he leant back in his seat. "Still, our paths are set. There's no point in looking back on what could have been. We need to focus on what lays ahead of us. With Tywin and his sons held in Riverrun's dungeons Cersei cannot retaliate against us. The Westerlands are still a threat that need dealing with, and Cersei has to worry about both Stannis and Renly. I have sent Robb ahead with a small force to scout the borders and see if he can find a path that can allow us to bypass the Golden Tooth. Meanwhile we will march out in a week's time at the latest. If Robb finds a way in I'll send more men to aid him and deal with the host that Tywin's cousin Stafford is trying to train up before laying siege to the Golden Tooth from both west and east. Then I'll march throughout the Westerlands and force the lords there to yield." Yohn smiled at Ned's thinking. Ever the general Ned, he thought with a smirk.
"Your grace, if you wish it my men will be honoured to assist you in this task," Ser Damon Shett spoke, an eagerness present in his voice. Ned chuckled at Damon's enthusiasm as he held his hand up.
"It is my hope that the sight of two hosts approaching from either side will force Lady Lefford to yield," he said. "We'll need what men we have to deal with Lannisport and then Casterly Rock, so the less battles before then the better." Yohn was surprised at this from Ned.
"You intend to take the Lannisters home from them?" he asked, his shock evident.
"Aye Yohn, that is what I plan," Ned responded. "I will not leave the Lannisters in a strong position of power after we are done with this war. At the very least I aim to weaken them enough so they cannot threaten us for a long time." Ned took a drink from his cup before setting it down and looking back at Yohn. "Perhaps I'll let them have it back after we've taken much of their wealth and distributed it across the Northern Kingdoms, which will include the Vale as well. Although the Riverlands will get the priority for recompense." Yohn nodded his head in understanding.
"The Riverlands suffered from this war first, so it is only fair to give them more gold to pay for more food from the likes of the Reach," he said. A logical move on Ned's part, and a good way of further humbling the Lannisters. Also it is the only reason Ned would have for plundering a castle; of all the reasons he could have personal gain is not one of them.
"Indeed Yohn," Ned replied. "I intend to sack the castles and mines of the Westerlands, but I won't put the small folk into the unpleasant situation of not having anything to survive come winter, so I'll be very careful with what we take."
"You could always bring the Westerlands under your dominion your grace," Horton suggested then. Ned looked at the Lord of Redfort and shook his head.
"The Northern Kingdoms will comprise of the North and the Riverlands, and the Vale as well if you all accept," he answered. "The Westerlands will remain under the control of the Iron Throne." Yohn shifted in his seat and clasped his hands together in front of him, looking at Ned with a serious look on his face.
"Ned, I feel that I need to bring up a very important matter with you," Yohn said uneasily. Ned looked at him and nodded his head, urging him to continue. "Lady Lysa has refused to lend aid to the Riverlands, as you already know. Some of the Vale lords have not bothered to summon their banners while Ser Lyn Corbray makes foolish challenges and declares all of us who have joined you oathbreakers, while Lady Lysa sits in the Eyrie with our young Lord Robert, coddling him and treating him like he is still a babe at her teat."
"Lord Royce!" Anya hissed in a scandalised tone.
"I beg your pardon Lady Waynwood, but it is sadly true," Yohn said in response.
"I have to agree with Lord Royce Lady Waynwood," Catelyn spoke up then. "When you and I were recently at the Eyrie when I took Lord Tyrion there Lysa was not seeing reason, claiming that the knights of the Vale should remain in the Vale to protect her son. I even witnessed her feeding little Robert from her breast. A six year old boy still at his mother's breast? It pains me to say it, but I fear that he may not be fit to rule unless he is taken from Lysa." Yohn looked at her and bowed his head, confused by what he had heard. To protect our lord? That's not what Lady Lysa has told me, he thought.
"Forgive me my Queen but we have been under the impression that Lady Lysa simply refused to get involved with this war not out of fear for her son but because, as one of her letters to me said, this war had nothing to do with the Vale whatsoever, and there was nothing to worry about," he told her. Catelyn looked astonished at Yohn's words.
"What?" she said disbelievingly, but upon looking at Yohn she seemed to realise that he spoke truly. "What in the Seven hells does my sister think she is playing at?" Yohn felt a little bit uncomfortable in telling her that, but he knew that he had to tell her. Looking at Horton and Anya who both nodded their heads to him, Yohn then went on to explain that Lady Arryn had denied her lords permission to take battle to the Lannisters even as her own childhood home was threatened. Yohn told Catelyn that her sister would send the lords and knights away with no more than an order to stand down, always telling them that this war would not involve the Vale so long as the Vale did not get involved, and that the Lannisters were not in the wrong here; those last words in particular shocked both Catelyn and Ned.
"Lord Royce," Ned spoke with a stern tone. "It was my good-sister who sent word to my wife that the Lannisters were responsible for the death of Jon Arryn. Furthermore as Catelyn told me and Lady Waynwood can attest to Lord Tyrion was accused of Jon's murder by Lysa, so that doesn't make any sense to me at all."
"I know your grace, but that is what Lady Lysa said to me the last time I confronted her," Yohn told him. "I think it's safe to say that we need to remove Lysa Arryn from the Eyrie and send young Robert to foster. I would suggest Winterfell as he is your nephew, but some others may prefer him to remain in the Vale." Ned looked to his wife who had a look of discomfort on her face.
"My nephew's birthright won't be in jeopardy will it?" she asked fearfully. Yohn shook his head while Anya answered.
"As long as he remains alive young Lord Robert's claim won't be removed from him," she said. "If anything were to happen then we would need to look for a new Lord of the Eyrie, but as it happens one of my own bannermen has a claim. Young Harrold Hardyng is a grandson of Jon's sister Alys, who married my Uncle Elys. If the worst should come to pass then Harrold would assume the name of Arryn and become the next Lord of the Eyrie."
"Of course that will not happen if we can help it," Horton cut in then. Yohn looked to him and saw the uncomfortable look in his eyes as he looked at Anya before he looked back at Catelyn, who looked uneasy at discussing the possibility of her nephew dying. "Personally I'd rather keep Lord Robert in the Vale myself, but we can discuss such after we have secured him. But as Lady Waynwood has already said my Queen your nephew's claim will not be taken from him."
"In any event, we would need to act soon your grace," Yohn cut in then. "I fear for the future of House Arryn, and would rather we deal with this as soon as we can. Lady Lysa won't hear reason from us, but she might if both of you were to approach her." Ned looked at Yohn then with discomfort in his eyes, shifting in his seat.
"Are you asking me to confront my good-sister in her home, talk sense into her and seize her and her son if she won't listen my lord?" he asked in that cold tone of his when he is annoyed. Yohn knew that he was treading on thin ice at the moment, but he needed to resolve what was going on in his homeland. Ned knew the Eyrie as well as any Arryn did, and he knew the mindset of the kind of people who served there, be they knights or maids or kitchen workers. Catelyn was Lady Arryn's elder sister, and she has already seen what her sister has become. If both of them go to the Eyrie and face Lady Arryn together then the matter will be resolved more quickly and with no harm befalling anyone.
"I am afraid that is exactly what I am asking your grace," Yohn answered. "My Queen, she is your sister and despite her refusal to help thus far she would never harm you even if she disagrees with you. My King, you will know some of the knights and servants who still serve at the Eyrie and they would remember you most fondly I should think." At that Ned gave a small smile.
"Not all of them may remember me fondly, given some of the pranks me and Robert used to pull on one or twelve of them," he said as he sat back in his seat. "This changes my initial plans, but I cannot deviate from the plan to march to the Golden Tooth. I shall send those men out under the command of Lord Mallister once he returns in the next couple of days. Then I shall ride with you to the Eyrie Yohn." Yohn nodded his head in thanks. "You and Lady Anya will ride with me and a few hundred men, a mix of your own and mine as well. We will speak to Lysa and get her to see reason, or remove her if we have no other choice. If that happens then we'll discuss where to foster Lord Robert after, not before." Yohn breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful that Ned would deal with this now instead of later.
With the matter of the Eyrie discussed all talk moved onto other matters, some of great importance and others nothing more than topics of general discussion. Yohn learned of Lord Hoster's poor health and offered his condolences to Catelyn, with Anya telling her that she would pray for her father. He also learned of the death of Lord Bolton, who had been injured by the Kingslayer during the battle of the camps many weeks ago. Horton asked about Lord Bolton's heir, and Ned looked at him with wide eyes.
"You do not know Lord Redfort?" he had asked. When Horton shook his head Ned answered him, his voice solemn. "Young Domeric Bolton died nearly a year ago now. Something to do with a bad belly." Horton was shocked by this news, and it took Yohn a few moments to remember that he had fostered Domeric Bolton at the Redfort for a few years. After a few hours some servants showed the lords from the Vale where their guest chambers would be located. Yohn and his son Andar were shown their rooms and both settled in. Yohn sat down and sighed, hoping that the next few weeks would not be too arduous. Of course they'll be arduous Yohn, we're at war, he reminded himself. He lay down and tried to get some sleep, but a noise outside in the courtyard drew his attention. He stood up from the bed and wandered over to his window, opening it slightly and peering out. He saw Ned's youngest daughter training with a wooden sword, moving around as if performing some dance from another land. How odd, he thought as he watched the girl spin on her heel and lunge the wooden sword forward before retracting her sword arm and waving the blade about. Does Ned know about this? After a few more minutes he decided to ignore the girl and close his window shut. He lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes, before finally falling to sleep.
Robb
The mountains to the west were coming in sight, and Robb was grateful for seeing them. It had been nearly a week since he rode out with Lords Karstark and Umber, along with a host of four-thousand men. If we come across Oxcross I'll be needing more men than this, he thought. He was not bitter about the situation; he was if anything glad that his father was back and taking charge of the war. It lifted the weight from his shoulders to know that his father was running things again. At the same time he was thankful that he was still being allowed to fight instead of being sent back to Winterfell which at one point he was certain his father would do. Why did I feel so certain of that? he had thought. I have fought beside my father's bannermen, there would be no point in sending me back and father would know that. Why did I think that that would've happened? Now though he was riding for the mountains that bordered the Riverlands and the Westerlands.
Robb and Grey Wind rode ahead with a dozen men, which included Smalljon and Harrion. They made their way towards the mountains, keeping an eye open for any Lannister scouts. It has been quiet for some time now, but Robb was still expecting trouble from them. He was confident about having an easy victory over Stafford Lannister though; his great-uncle Ser Brynden mentioned that Stafford's capabilities as a battle commander were very poor, which would work in their favour. As they rode Robb turned to Smalljon, who was looking all around them.
"You're not nervous now Smalljon, are you?" he teased his friend. The Umber heir laughed at him.
"Never Robb, just keeping my eyes open," Smalljon answered. "Can't rely on me father to look out for a possible ambush. Just don't tell him I said that." Harrion chuckled along with Robb.
"You think your father's bad just look at mine," he said. "I'm glad we were far away from Tywin Lannister's host at the Humbling, otherwise my father would've alerted them just with his breathing."
"Come on Harrion, it's not father's fault he's a shit hunter," Torrhen spoke up then. The second son of Lord Rickard had joined their group earlier that day after his father sent him to pass along a message about a small group of surviving Lannister men that they had caught. It was because of that group that Robb and his companions were staying alert.
"What does it matter Torr?" Harrion said. "He doesn't know the finer points of being subtle, unless it's to do with arranging marriages for our family."
"Even then father's not that subtle," Torrhen replied. Robb rolled his eyes at the Karstark brothers bickering.
"Ladies please if you're quite finished," Smalljon said, earning glares from both men. Lucas Blackwood quietly chuckled at their antics as he caught up with Robb. The younger brother of Lord Brynden Blackwood had dark hair and a clean-shaven face, and seemed to be a quiet sort of person. He was however quite good with a sword, but not as good with a bow as his elder brother.
"Do you think we'll come across any Lannister scum Robb?" Lucas asked. The one thing Robb loved about his little group was that they all dispensed with formalities when it was just them. Being forever addressed as 'my prince' always annoyed him, even when Jon did it. I hope he's doing more than just training men, he thought.
"I doubt we'll see anymore before we get to the Golden Tooth," was all he said before Grey Wind snarled lowly. Robb looked in the direction that Grey Wind was snarling at and narrowed his eyes. "I think I might have spoken too soon."
Robb sent three men to inform the other nearby groups and bring them to him while he sent Torrhen and Lucas ahead. He only had to wait for half an hour before he saw his reinforcements arrive, roughly two-hundred men, before Torrhen and Lucas returned. They told him that there was a group of about forty Westermen about two miles ahead, just past the rise of the hill they were about to go over. Robb gave the order for his men to dismount and make their way on foot to keep quiet. It took them all more than half an hour to get to the small camp, and Robb could see that they were battered survivors from the numerous skirmishes that have taken place since the Humbling. He looked around at his men and had them spread out to charge out from three directions. He looked back at his few archers and ordered them to pick off any Westermen they saw running for what few horses they had. Drawing his longsword out slowly Robb looked at Grey Wind and nodded his head to him. His direwolf quietly trotted over to the Westermen, sneaking up to them before pouncing on one lone sentry a few minutes later.
When Grey Wind tore out that sentry's throat Robb gave the signal and he charged down the hill along with his men. He heard arrows flying overhead and watched several Westermen drop as the arrows hit them. When he made contact with his foes he thrust his sword forward into the belly of one who was too slow to bring his shield up properly. As he drew the blade out another man rushed at him, swinging his sword in a bid to remove his head. Robb brought his sword up to block the blow and when their blades connected he swung to the left with as much strength as he could manage, sending his opponent staggering to the left. Robb slashed his sword into the man's neck and pulled it back, slicing his neck open. One more Westerman ran up to Robb with a pike in his hands, thrusting at him while screaming like a fool. Robb simply stepped to the side and swung his sword down onto the haft of the pike, breaking the head off. The Westerman looked shocked at what happened and threw his haft to the ground before dropping onto his knees.
"Mercy, I yield!" he yelled out in panic. Robb glared at the man, holding his sword against his throat. He felt a primal urge to kill this man there and then, but he held himself back. Slaughter him and you're no better than the Lannisters, a voice in his head told him. Robb lowered his weapon and stared at him.
"Be thankful that I know mercy," he told him before stalking off. As he looked around Robb saw the Westermen who survived had dropped their weapons and were surrendering, making him chuckle darkly. How many of these men would've been merciful to the small folk I wonder? he thought to himself.
The little skirmish had only lasted for a minute, and it was over very quickly. Only about seventeen Westermen had been killed while the rest just dropped their weapons and surrendered. A couple of his men were injured but none seriously, and Robb was pleased with that. As his men rounded up their prisoners Robb moved through the tents of the little camp and met up with Harrion.
"Not as exciting as I'd hoped for," he said. "I was looking forward to a good fight."
"There'll be plenty of opportunity for fighting Harrion," Robb told him. As they walked the sound of horses trotting grew louder, and Robb looked back at the hill from where his men had charged from. A moment later he saw more of his men riding towards him with Greatjon at their head. A few minutes had passed before Greatjon and Lord Rickard Karstark were standing before Robb.
"Any of ours dead?" Greatjon asked.
"None," Robb answered. "The Westermen stood no chance and surrendered without much of a fight. A few foolhardy men-at-arms and a couple of knights were all who stood with steel in their hands, but once they were dealt with the rest saw sense and pleaded for mercy." Lord Karstark grumbled at that.
"It'd be safer to kill them all my prince," he said. Robb shook his head in answer.
"My father's instructions were clear my lord. If any man-at-arms surrenders then we are to accept and take them prisoner, not murder them. I'm sure you already know my father's stance on the killing of prisoners?" Lord Karstark looked put off by that.
"Aye my prince," he began but was cut off when Grey Wind came running up, barking away as he approached. The direwolf stopped by him and gave a soft whine before taking off towards the mountains, stopping to look back at Robb and bark at him.
"I think Grey Wind's found something," Smalljon said as he wandered over to them. Robb smirked as he began to follow his direwolf.
"Go on boy, show us what you've found," Robb urged him. The beast gave a little bark and trotted off, leading Robb and his companions through the camp. As they walked Robb was joined by his Frey squire, Olyvar. The man who was not much older than Robb has been a good and dutiful squire, just as his elder brother Lord Stevron promised. He was wearing a simple shirt of chainmail with studded leather for armour and an iron half-helm, with a longsword sheathed at his side.
"My prince?" Olyvar called out to him with a confused look in his eyes.
"Just follow us lad," Greatjon replied. For a few minutes Grey Wind led the group through the camp and beyond to a small gathering of trees that stood between Robb and the mountains behind. Robb turned to Olyvar and waved him over.
"Get a couple of dozen men to join us Olyvar," he commanded. They stood and waited for only ten minutes, with Grey Wind pacing in front of the woods. When the additional men had gathered Robb led them into the woods, his sword drawn just in case. Grey Wind led the way, his snout down to the ground. For twenty minutes they followed the direwolf as he walked around the trees, leading the group deeper into the woods, until finally they came to the other side and saw a narrow path winding up the side of the mountain that stood in front of them.
"Well then Robb, what are the odds that this path can lead us straight into the Westerlands?" Harrion asked. Robb hummed in response and walked up to Grey Wind who had sat on his haunches when they arrived.
"Good boy Grey Wind," he said quietly as he scratched him behind the ear. "Let's hope this gets us past the Golden Tooth." He turned around and faced Lords Umber and Karstark. "Get a group of men to scout this path to make sure it'll lead us where we want to go," he ordered. "Once they come back we will begin to march along it if it indeed takes us into the Westerlands, and then we can send word to my father's host and request more men."
"Will do my prince," Greatjon said.
With his orders given Robb made his way back to the camp with Harrion, Smalljon and Olyvar following him. As they entered the camp a Blackwood man-at-arms approached him.
"My prince, we have secured the prisoners as per your orders," he told him. Robb thanked the man and ordered him to make sure that they were fed. He knew that some of the men would grumble at that but he would not compromise his honour; they had surrendered and so should be treated fairly, not made to feel as if they were less than dirt. Some of them may be less than dirt, but that matters not for now. Robb walked over to where their horses had been brought to and approached his warhorse, checking to make sure that it was well and feeding him a slice from the apple that he had taken from his saddlebag and cut up.
"So, a small band of battered Lannister men beaten and taken prisoner, a possible path that'll lead us into enemy territory without needing to go through the Golden Tooth, and all that done before dinner," Smalljon said. "All we need is a couple of camp followers and we're all good." Harrion laughed at Smalljon as he pulled out a water skin from the saddlebag of his horse.
"Not much pleases you more than a quick fuck, does it Smalljon?" he said with a grin. Robb watched as his friend looked at the Karstark heir with an annoyed look.
"A decent fuck Harrion, not a quick fuck," he said. "There is a difference you know. Or do you know?" Harrion snorted at that.
"Oh please Jon," he replied. "I might not be a married man, but I know the pleasures of the flesh well enough." Smalljon chortled at that.
"Who said anything about marriage?" he said as Harrion drank from his water skin. "Don't need to be married to enjoy getting between a lovely lady's thighs, and it's even better if her cunt's dripping wet before you sheath your cock in her." Harrion snorted as he passed his drink to Smalljon.
"Do you think about anything apart from putting your manhood into some woman's sheath?" he asked. Smalljon grinned wide before he responded.
"Putting it into her mouth and having her suck me dry," he answered. Robb burst out laughing along with Harrion as Smalljon took a large swig. "Could you not have brought some other drink instead of water Harrion?" he demanded as he passed the drink to Robb.
"No. I save my ale and mead for when I'm under a roof, not out in the country." Robb took a long drink of water before he passed the water skin to Olyvar, who was looking awkward at the conversation between the two heirs.
"Don't mind them," he told his squire. "This is quite civilised for them." Olyvar took the drink and had a small swig before passing it back to Harrion.
"If you say so my prince," Olyvar said. Robb frowned at him, shaking his head. No matter how many times I tell him he'll never stop calling me my prince.
The four of them gathered by a camp fire that Torrhen and Lucas had got started. They sat down and were joined by Greatjon and Lord Rickard, and they all helped themselves to the food that they had recently 'acquired' from their prisoners. The eight of them began to eat the food, which was a mix of venison, beef and various vegetables all put into a stew pot. Robb chucked a few large pieces of meat to Grey Wind who scoffed the food happily as he lay down beside Robb. The group spoke as they ate, all reminiscing about what they had gotten up to before this war broke out.
"Me and the wife were busy... trying to expand on our family," Greatjon said, earning an eye roll from Smalljon as he washed his food down with a cup of ale. "I'm not quite sure who works harder at that, but..."
"Oh for fucks sake father, do you mind?" Smalljon interrupted. Greatjon looked at his son and chuckled.
"You're always going on about having women lad, and you never normally complain when I talk about having women," Greatjon said with a laugh.
"That's because you never usually talk about it when it's me ma involved," Smalljon responded. Robb and the others chuckled along before they looked at Lucas.
"Well, not been up to much myself," he said as he shuffled in his seat. "I've spent most of my time just helping my father and brother with running Raventree. Right before the hostilities started I was on a hunt with Brynden, carrying whatever he shot down with his bow seeing as I can't hit much with a bow to save my life." The others laughed at that as Lucas put a piece of stewed meat in his mouth and chewed. "I've always preferred fighting with a sword instead of anything else," he said after he finished chewing.
"You sound just like Jon," Robb said. The group looked at him as he put a spoonful of the stew into his mouth and chewed on it. Once he swallowed it down and had a quick swig of his ale he began to talk a bit more of what he has been doing before this war. "Well, as most of you know I've just been running Winterfell while my father was serving as King Robert's Hand. What little time I've had to myself I've spent learning more about being Lord of Winterfell or training in the tiltyard back home. I've had a few moments where I've had some fun, or rather tried to." Robb snorted as he remembered taking Bran out for a ride through the Wolfswood.
"Any fun with women at all Robb?" Smalljon asked him. Robb looked at him and sighed.
"Most I've ever done is kiss them, and that's that," he said firmly. Smalljon smirked widely at that and opened his mouth to ask another question, but a kick in his leg from his father silenced him. Harrion however did not hold back.
"Still not got between a woman's thighs?" he asked with a grin as he leaned back and folded his arms.
"Ease up son," Lord Rickard said. "Not every man wishes to bed a woman outside of marriage." Torrhen stood up and stretched his limbs as he spoke.
"Most of us would like to know what we should be doing before we wed our prospective brides," he said. Robb chuckled lightly as he brought his ale up to his mouth.
"Well, I'd like to save myself for marriage if I can," he told them. Lucas raised his cup up to him as he drank his ale.
"That seems fair enough to me," he said. "My brother won't bed until he is wed." He took another swig before he added, "Or so he says anyway." Everyone looked at Lucas then.
"Or so he says?" Greatjon repeated. Robb noticed the look of mischief in Lucas's eyes.
"Well let's just say that my brother has been seen with one of the many daughters of Lord Twatus Bracken," he said. "Brynden claims that he hasn't bedded her at all, but who can say. I wouldn't be surprised if he gets her with a bastard." Robb was surprised at that.
"I'd have thought your brother would avoid anyone named Bracken?" he said.
"He avoids Lord Twatus, but he gets on quite well with one of his girls. Only reason he won't marry her is because father demanded that he not wed any of them at all."
"You really don't like Lord Bracken do you Lucas?" Olyvar spoke up then, nearly startling Robb as he had forgotten about his squire. Lucas looked over at the Frey and smirked.
"He's a Bracken, of course I don't like him," he said as he took a drink from his cup. Robb was quite surprised at the venom with which Lucas was speaking with in regards to Lord Bracken. "Brackens are a bunch of bloody turncloaks. It was a Bracken who captured Agnes Blackwood and gave her to Harwyn Hoare years before the Targaryen conquest. It was the Brackens who poisoned our heart tree. It was..."
"Peace Lucas," Robb cut in then, and the young Blackwood calmed down. Just when I thought he was a quiet fellow as well.
"Sorry Robb," he said. "I think I've had enough ale this night." Greatjon laughed at that.
"We've all gone a little bit overboard lad," he told him as he held up his hand that was minus a couple of fingers. "This is what I got when I went too far with challenging young Prince Robb here a few months back. Went for me blade without thinking and the next moment that direwolf of his lunges at me and takes two of my fingers, and then he eats them. Eats them!" Robb chuckled along with the others as he remembered that day in the great hall of Winterfell. "I won't be doing that again any time soon."
The conversation drifted along steadily until they all felt tired enough to settle down for the night. Robb wandered to a tent with Grey Wind and Olyvar with him. He sent his squire off to find his own tent and to raise him at sunrise if he did not get up himself before then. Robb settled down and slept through the night before rising the next morning and going about expanding the camp. For the next few days his host organised their position and set up more tents closer to the woods, keeping a regular patrol within the woods and around the camp perimeter to watch out for any trouble that could be heading their way. Six days after sending his scouts along the path they returned with news that he was very grateful to receive.
"The path leads to a village my prince," the chief scout said. Robb was sat in a tent with Greatjon and Lord Rickard sat on either side of him. "There was a large host assembling there, at least ten-thousand if not more." Robb nodded his head.
"That sounds like Oxcross," he spoke aloud. "How far away was the village from the path?" The scout straightened his back.
"About a mile and a half, with plenty cover in the form o' trees," he answered. Robb sat back in his seat.
"We will need more men for this attack my prince," Lord Rickard said. "At least another four-thousand if not more."
"I agree Lord Karstark," Robb answered.
"My prince, if it pleases?" the scout asked. Robb nodded to him to let him speak. "While we were there we noticed that Ser Stafford has not placed sentries at all. I sent some men around the host's camp, and they have not put up a single sentry. Also, they have gathered their horses in the same spot, closest to the trees where we would come out from." Robb smirked briefly at that. So Stafford Lannister is indeed very incompetent. That's good for me, he thought.
"That will prove to be his doom," Robb said as he rose from his seat. "Lord Karstark, send word to my father's host and ask for our reinforcements. Once they arrive we will march along the path and gather our strength, then launch our attack during the night time." Lord Rickard bowed to Robb.
"I'll send the messenger immediately my prince," he said before walking off. Robb turned to face the scout again.
"Rest up today, then on the morrow I want you and your scouts to go back and keep watch until we arrive to attack them," he told the man.
"Yes my prince, many thanks," the man said before walking off as well.
"We going to have quite the fight this time?" Greatjon asked. Robb smiled at him as he leaned against the table.
"Let's hope so my lord," Robb replied. "I would prefer a decent scrap compared to what we had nearly a week ago." The two of them left the tent to go about their other duties. As he walked Robb whistled Grey Wind over, who came belting down from the tents further up ahead. "Good boy Grey Wind," he said as he petted his direwolf. "Thanks to you we should be able to take the Lannisters by complete surprise." Grey Wind looked up at him and barked happily, following him as he wandered along the camp. Now we just have to wait until the rest of the men arrive. When we attack them in the dead of night they'll think that the Others themselves have fallen upon them.
Petyr
Petyr cursed his foul luck. Ever since the Spider disappeared he has had one problem after another. His agents disappearing all of a sudden, his ledgers vanishing from their hiding places (which led to him having several of the whores in his employ tortured and then killed), and his quarters being ransacked. It all came to a head however when Cersei revealed a letter supposedly discovered by her cousin Lancel that proved his involvement in old Jon Arryn's death, as well as Lancel proclaiming that he and his men had found evidence of loans being made without the consent of the crown. That would explain why my quarters were in the mess that they were in, he thought. After his public shaming Joffrey ordered him to be taken to the black cells to be dealt with in a couple of days time. Fortunately for Petyr his man Lothor Brune had arrived before they took him into the black cells and killed the two Gold Cloaks who were escorting him. He made his escape with Lothor and several other loyal men and boarded his ship, ordering the crew to get him away from the city. He briefly toyed with the idea of assassinating Joffrey, but then decided against it. It'll be better if his 'Uncle' Stannis has him tied to a pyre and burned to ashes, and Stannis will easily take the capital. I just hope my letter to Lord Tyrell has arrived in Highgarden. Once poor Renly is dealt with Stannis will have most of the Stormlords support him while the Reach deal with Mace for his 'betrayal' just long enough for Stannis to take the throne. Once they realise my letter was a ruse it'll be too late for them.
After the Spider disappeared along with Eddard Stark and his eldest daughter Sansa, Petyr had had to put a new plan into motion to ensure chaos would consume the realm. Sending a letter to cause concern in Highgarden, along with a second letter to be put onto Mace's person without his knowing at the most opportune moment, all Petyr needed to do was send a man to deal with Renly. He would have hired a Faceless Man for that task but he was short on time, so he had sent one of his agents to organise Renly's death. All he had to do now was figure out how to deal with the Starks. He could have Robb Stark killed, but Cat would hate him for that if it ever came to light so he would not risk that. He knew he would need to find some way to locate Eddard Stark and kill him before he could reunite with his family but that was going to be hard enough even with a few agents to spare, and right now he could not spare a single man.
The ship he was on right now was currently sailing away to the Fingers where his family's seat, a lone unnamed tower, was located. He had thought about stopping off at Gulltown, but while they were sailing past another ship Petyr had heard that many of the Vale lords had marched out to join the Starks. This is just getting better, he fumed. With the Vale divided as it was he could not risk riding from Gulltown to his tower. When the ship stopped at Gulltown he sent a messenger to ride through the Vale and deliver a letter to Ser Lyn Corbray to meet with him at his tower to discuss their next move. He also sent a message to the Eyrie to inform Lysa of his return to the Vale and telling her to stay with her son. Petyr had wanted to wait before telling her anything, but he knew that she would panic if Cersei sent a letter informing her that the truth of Jon Arryn's death was now known in the capitol. He told her to dismiss any letter from the Lannisters as lies and that he would join her shortly. After having spent a day in Gulltown the ship left the harbour and sailed north for White Harbour, with the captain promising to stop at the Fingers along the way. Petyr was stood on the deck, taking in the sea air as the little dot on the land that was his place of birth came closer into view.
"Lord Baelish," Lothor Brune spoke up. "We are almost ready to depart this ship."
"Excellent Lothor," he answered. "Once we are at the tower have everyone prepared to receive Ser Lyn Corbray. I'll need to speak with him quietly to discuss how we are going forward with the... delicate, situation that we are faced with."
"Will do my lord," the man said, giving Petyr a bow before he turned and marched off. Petyr continued to watch the tower as the ship sailed closer. After an hour the captain approached him.
"Lord Baelish, we're ready ta drop ye off now," he said. "This is as close as I dare sail to the Fingers. Any closer an' we may as well swim the rest o' the way t' White Harbour." Petyr faced the man and smiled at him.
"Of course my friend," he answered. "I thank you for getting me this far. Once I can get myself organised properly I'll see to it that a proper reward is sent your way. Do bear in mind that it may take some time for said reward to reach you." The captain nodded his head. With that Petyr walked over to the port side of the ship and climbed down into the row boat that would take him and Lothor to the shore. Barely ten minutes later and Petyr was stepping onto dry land.
The walk up to the entrance of his tower took Petyr and Lothor twenty minutes, but thankfully no one was stopping him every minute as he had feared they would try and do. As he approached he noticed that the nearby village was busy with the small folk going about their daily chores. There was also a few horses with men who had the Corbray's sigil of three black ravens holding red hearts on white upon their shields. At their head was Ser Lyn, who spotted Petyr and rode over to him. Petyr stood up straight as Ser Lyn came closer, giving the knight a broad smile despite being annoyed that he had arrived earlier than Petyr had hoped.
"Ser Lyn, a pleasure to receive you," he said to him as he dismounted his horse.
"Lord Baelish," Ser Lyn replied with a bow. "I had heard of your troubles in the capitol. I do hope that Queen Cersei is just spouting nonsense." Petyr smiled at the knight as he clasped his hands before him.
"It seems that someone hates me enough to frame me for Lord Arryn's demise," he lied. "Perhaps it was indeed Cersei lying to deflect blame from herself, as I personally suspect that she is behind it." Ser Lyn raised an eyebrow at Petyr's words.
"Apparently my lord it was Lord Tyrion who was responsible," he responded. "I was at the Eyrie when Lady Stark arrived with the Imp and Lady Arryn put him on trial for Lord Arryn's murder. Of course the Lannister shit declared a trial by combat and Lady Arryn chose Ser Vardis Egen over me. I would've dealt with the Imp's champion, a common sellsword, and then he would've been executed. But no, Lady Arryn chose Egen instead of me." Petyr could tell that Ser Lyn was simmering at this, and it amused him greatly.
"Regardless Ser Lyn, it matters not at the moment. Shall we?" Petyr led them into the tower and upon entry nodded to Lothor, who bowed his head and clicked his fingers at the staff waiting for orders. Petyr watched as his staff scurried about trying to get work done for properly receiving guests. "Would you like a drop of wine ser?" he asked the knight. Ser Lyn looked at him with a frown and shrugged his shoulders.
"Why not?" he answered. Petyr smiled at that.
"I have a suitable vintage in my room, but it'll take me a few minutes to find it," he told him. "In the mean time I'm sure Lothor here can accommodate your men here while we discuss this pressing matter about the Vale lords."
Petyr led Ser Lyn up into his personal rooms on the above level while Lothor dealt with the other guests. Once Petyr and Ser Lyn were in the room he walked over to the table and pulled out a chair before wandering over to the drink cabinet just across from his bed. After a couple of minutes of looking over the bottles Petyr found the one he was looking for and poured the liquid into two cups and walked over to Ser Lyn, giving him one of the cups before they both took a drink.
"So my friend, what has been going on in my absence?" Petyr asked. Ser Lyn looked at him and took a swig of his wine before he answered.
"As you already know my lord, most of the lords have declared for Stark, gathering their banners and marching off to war," he said. "Lady Arryn has told everyone to stay here but many are refusing to listen, especially since the Young Wolf took the Old Lion prisoner. They believe that the war is as good as won and just want to help the winning side end it quicker. I have challenged many to try and prevent them from leaving, but none seem willing to test their mettle against me. The cravens have chosen to ignore me it seems. Probably know I would beat them in a fair fight." Petyr smiled at Ser Lyn's grumblings.
"Of course that would be down to you not fighting fairly in a fair fight," he quipped. Ser Lyn looked outraged and got ready to shout at Petyr until he held his hand up. "I jape Ser Lyn," he said quickly. The knight snorted in disgust.
"Not a very funny jape I must say," he said, his face serious. "Anyway, Lady Forlorn here has not tasted blood in some time, and she grows as weary as I at having to wait for the chance." As he spoke Ser Lyn tapped the hilt of his family's ancestral Valyrian longsword as if petting a beloved pet.
"Still planning to usurp your brother?" Petyr said in a bid to redirect the conversation to where he wanted it. Ser Lyn looked at him and nodded his head slightly.
"Lyonel has not done much for our House in recent years, and he resents me for being given Lady Forlorn by our father after he died at the Trident," he responded. Petyr took a gentle swig of the wine and placed the cup back down on the table in front of him.
"To give Lord Lyonel his dues he has very little wealth to work with," Petyr said. Ser Lyn huffed in annoyance as he downed the rest of his cup. "Shall I refill?" he asked and the knight nodded. Petyr stood up and walked over to the drink cabinet with Ser Lyn's cup in hand. "Your House has been poor for quite a long time. Lord Lyonel has not yet remarried after his wife's death, and the only child he has had was that sickly little infant who died very young. He needs a lovely young wife from a rich family who can give him an heir, unless you are willing to take a wife yourself. Or do you still prefer to fuck young men?"
"You already know the answer to that my lord," Ser Lyn said. "Lyonel won't be of much use to you, he's too bloody cautious for his own good." Petyr smiled as he reached for a small bottle that was behind the larger bottle and turned it over slightly to drop a single crystal piece into the cup before quickly replacing it and pouring the wine from the other bottle.
"It's because he has no heir apart from you and Ser Lucas that Lord Lyonel is cautious," Petyr said with a smirk. "If he had a son to carry on the Corbray name then he would more than likely take more risks. Risks that would pay off for him and ultimately me. Plus your brother is more suitable for what I want at the moment. With the Starks doing well and most of the Vale supporting them I need a new plan and thus, a new partner." Petyr offered Ser Lyn the refilled cup which he all but snatched from Petyr's hand. "I need a planner who can assist me with closing off the Vale from the Riverlands while making sure that the other Vale Houses either support me or are trapped in their homes. Some sellswords from across the Narrow Sea will help with that." Ser Lyn scoffed in annoyance.
"Bloody useless they are," he hissed bringing his cup to his lips before putting the cup back down on the table. "You won't be able to secure the Vale of Arryn as quickly as you would like my lord. You might get the Graftons and Lady Arryn to support you but the rest will refuse you." Petyr smiled at him as he walked over to his own cup and picked it up.
"We'll see about that," he said raising the cup. "To Lady Arryn and Lord Robert," Petyr toasted before sipping his wine, watching as Ser Lyn drank his cup empty. He put the cup down with a cough and pointed at it.
"What is that wine?" he asked with another cough. Petyr smirked as he raised his cup while Ser Lyn coughed a third and fourth time.
"Just a cheap Dornish wine, laced with a lovely little piece of crystal filled with the strangler," Petyr answered as Ser Lyn coughed more, clutching at his throat. "It is a most unpleasant poison Ser Lyn, one that constricts the throat and stops a person from breathing." Ser Lyn tried to stand up from his seat but he fell to the floor gasping for breath that would not come. Petyr watched with a malicious smile as the knight writhed on the floor, blood pouring from his nose and eyes as his face turned purple from the blood vessels bursting. Ser Lyn made a horrible gasping noise before he finally stilled, his body falling limp. Petyr walked over to the man's lifeless body and emptied his wine over Ser Lyn's face. "That is what happens when you no longer serve a purpose and threaten my work good ser." Petyr placed his cup upside down on the table and did the same with the other cup before he stepped over Ser Lyn's body and left his room, walking down the stairs to find Lothor wiping his dagger clean of blood. Ser Lyn's companions all lay on the floor in pools of blood, their throats slashed open by Lothor and the men that he was able to gather to deal with them.
"It is done my lord," Lothor said. "Not a single one of them got a chance to defend themselves, not when being offered ale." Petyr smiled at his loyal man, nodding his head at the bodies.
"Ser Lyn has unfortunately choked on my wine and could not breathe at all, and as such he cannot come down to admire your handy work," he replied. Lothor shrugged his shoulders in response.
"A pity," was all he said. Petyr walked over to him, stepping around the bodies and looking at the servants who were coming in with scrubbing brushes and buckets of water to clean the mess.
"I would gift you with Lady Forlorn for your service, but it would look rather suspicious if you are seen carrying it," Petyr told him. "So for now we will have to wait for Captain Xallo to arrive with his prize." Lothor frowned at the mention of the Summer Islander pirate.
"Xallo is no better than a common thief with a ship and a crew of killers," he said. Petyr chuckled.
"Aren't all pirates the same?" he asked. "Still, the man has his uses, and I did pay him a rather large sum of dragons upfront to find a sword of Valyrian steel. As long as he is careful and doesn't get too cocky and attack every ship between here and wherever he is we should have that sword, among other valuables to barter with for convincing the sellswords to come over here and assist us with securing our borders." Lothor folded his arms as he walked with Petyr who led them outside to walk around the outside of the tower.
"And when the man arrives how much extra do you intend to pay him for such a service?" Lothor asked, his face serious. Petyr smirked as he faced him.
"My friend, I intend to let you deliver the payment yourself by way of the iron price, as the Ironborn would say," he told Lothor, who gave a grim smile of his own.
"It would be my pleasure Lord Baelish," he said.
Arya
Arya woke up to the sound of horses whinnying and hooves clattering in the courtyard outside. She looked up and cursed herself for leaving the window open overnight. She leapt out of the bed and made her way over to the window, pulling herself up and standing on the table beneath the window to look outside. Out in the courtyard she saw her father's men getting ready to march out to war; some men were going to march out with Lord Mallister and his son Ser Patrek to attack the Lannisters homeland while others would go with Arya's father and the Bronze Yohn to go to the Eyrie to get her aunt to help with the war and get the rest of the Vale to fight. Arya wanted to go with her father, especially as her mother was going with him, but they were both insistent that she stay put. Sansa was willing to stay in Riverrun, but Arya had wanted to go and see the Eyrie for herself. She remembers the stories her father told her of his time as Lord Jon Arryn's ward alongside King Robert, back before he became King. But her father had told her that she was safer here, and that he would not risk his daughters by taking them through land that was still under the threat of attack from the Vale Clansmen.
After spending a few minutes looking outside Arya stepped down from the table and made her way to the wardrobe where her clothes were. Her mother had insisted on her wearing those poxy dresses again but she would wear one for mother until she and father rode off. She picked the grey and blue dress that was relatively comfortable, frowning at the length of the skirt. Why must girls be expected to wear these stupid garments? Why can't we wear breeches and shirts like boys do? Arya slipped the dress on, annoyed at having to wear it; she may have promised her mother that she would see them off wearing one, but that did not mean that she would enjoy wearing it or keep it on afterwards. After putting the stupid dress on she took out a pair of brown breeches and a green tunic which she then put onto the chair before leaving her room. As she left she was nearly pushed down to the ground by Nymeria who bounded over to her and began sniffing her dress.
"Hello girl," Arya greeted her companion as she petted her. When she saw her in the courtyard that day she and Sansa arrived with their father and Jon she felt that her heart was about to burst with joy. She had felt terrible for throwing stones at her and sending her off, but if she did not do that then maybe Cersei would have had her killed instead of Lady. Or she would have had them both killed, she thought sadly. She felt sad for Sansa's direwolf, and angry at Cersei. Until recently she had resented Sansa for not telling the truth about what happened at the river that day with Joffrey threatening Mycah, but now she was just angry with Joffrey and his mother. Over the last few weeks Arya and Sansa have gotten along more than they used to, being as close to each other as they were when they were still little children like Rickon. Sansa would never stop being the perfect lady though, but Arya did not mind now. After everything that has happened since their father's arrest Arya has put her resentment behind her.
As Arya was petting Nymeria she heard a little cough from the side. She turned her head and saw one of the Dornish women who had arrived with Prince Oberyn last week. Ever since they had arrived Arya has been interested in them, trying to get a chance to speak with one or both of them. Their father and half of his guards had left to return to Dorne to get his elder brother Prince Doran to organise support for the war in the Westerlands, while the two women who called themselves the Sand Snakes stayed behind.
"You have a very pretty wolf there," the woman said with a wide smile. She was the elder of the two women, the one who carried a spear. The younger was far prettier, but this one was clearly a warrior.
"Thank you," Arya answered rather timidly. She hated how she sounded when answering her. "I'm sorry but I have forgotten your name." The woman chuckled as she stepped closer to Arya, keeping her eyes on Nymeria.
"I am Obara," she told Arya. "My sister shares a name with your wolf." Arya smiled slightly as she looked back at Nymeria who was looking at Obara with her head tilted to one side. "Can I pet her?" the Dornishwoman asked. Arya was surprised by the request but she nodded her head quickly. Obara held her hand out to Nymeria who sniffed her hand before nudging her snout against her hand. Obara laughed as she stroked her fingers through the direwolf's fur, gently scratching behind her ears. "You wouldn't think she was capable of tearing your throat out when she is like this, would you?" she asked. Arya smiled widely as she watched her stroking Nymeria.
"She can be quite playful," Arya told her. "But she is more than capable of causing harm, as Joffrey could tell you if you ever get the chance to see him face to face." Obara raised her brow questioningly at Arya's words, so she elaborated. "I was playing with a boy named Mycah near the Ruby Ford when Joffrey approached with my sister, Sansa. Joffrey drew his sword and sliced Mycah's face so I struck him with the stick I had in my hands. He swung his sword at me trying to kill me, and when I tripped up and fell on my back he pointed his sword at me. Nymeria was not far off and she realised that I was in trouble, so she attacked Joffrey, biting into his arm and making him drop his sword. I picked it up and threw it into the river before running off." Arya had smiled briefly at the memory before the smile fell as she remembered what happened after; chasing Nymeria away to save her, Mycah being murdered by the Hound on Joffrey's orders, Sansa withholding the truth on what happened, and then father having to kill Lady to spare her from suffering at Cersei's command. She got lost in her thoughts before Obara prodded her arm.
"You okay?" she asked. Arya shook her head and before she knew it she told Obara of everything else that happened on that day and the days after. After she had finished speaking Arya looked back at Nymeria who was looking up at her with what appeared to be a sad look. After a moment Obara spoke again. "Why have you named your wolf Nymeria?" she asked. Nymeria looked up at Obara upon hearing her name, making Arya smile.
"Because it's a good name, and I like the story of Princess Nymeria and her ten thousand ships," she answered with a smile as she thought back to what she knew of that time. "She brought her fellow Rhoynar from Essos as they fled the Valyrians after they conquered the Rhoyne with their dragons." Obara laughed as Arya continued to speak about Princess Nymeria and her people. When she was done Obara smiled widely at her.
"You are well versed in the story of my Rhoynar ancestor," she said. Arya nodded her head.
"I've always preferred stories of warrior women like Nymeria and Queen Visenya, Aegon the Conqueror's wife," Arya replied, making Obara chuckle.
"I'm surprised that a Stark of all people would want to know anything about the Targaryens, given what King Aerys did to your uncle and grandfather," Obara said.
"That was one Targaryen, who was a mad fool who wanted to burn everyone," Arya answered back, a bit too harshly than she intended to. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you."
"Don't worry girl," Obara said. "I'm always being accused of lacking tact myself, so don't worry." Arya smirked at that, deciding that she liked Obara.
"Anyway, I'm about to go down to have some food. Would you like to come with me?" The Dornishwoman frowned at her before responding.
"Are you sure you want to be seen with a bastard, princess?" she asked in a teasing manner.
"I spend a lot of time with my brother, Jon, who is also a bastard," Arya answered, nearly hesitating at referring to Jon as a brother. She has gotten used to the fact that Jon is her cousin instead of being her brother, but she was still trying to remember to call him brother when in front of those who are not family. Remember what father said, she reminded herself. "I'm sure it won't kill me to associate myself with another bastard." Obara smiled at that and the two of them walked down to the great hall for breakfast, with Nymeria following close behind.
Arya was sitting down in the great hall eating bacon and sausage with bread when Jon wandered over with Ghost behind. It was only in the last few days that Arya's uncle, Ser Edmure, allowed the direwolves to roam the castle so long as they were with their companions. Ghost trotted over to Nymeria who greeted him and settled down beside him as Arya threw a piece of bacon to them. Jon smirked as he ruffled Arya's hair before taking his own seat and greeting Obara. Not long after Jon joined and asked for a servant to get his breakfast Sansa joined them, dressed in a pretty gown that was a mixture of both the Stark and Tully colours. She sat down and waited for her breakfast which arrived a few minutes later. Sansa greeted everyone at the table including Jon, which she did without being overly friendly. Thank the gods for that, Arya thought. It was getting quite embarrassing watching Sansa fawn over Jon like that. Nymeria nudged her head under Sansa's arm to get her attention, and after a moment Sansa huffed before turning around to scratch her behind her ears. Arya resumed eating her breakfast, but a few moments later she heard Sansa calling out to Nymeria in annoyance. Arya looked to her sister and saw that Nymeria had pinched one of the rashers of bacon from Sansa's plate.
"She did the same to Obara here not long ago Sansa," Arya said with a snigger. Sansa looked at Arya with a look of indignation before calming down.
"She's almost as bad as you Arya," Jon said before anyone else could speak. Arya shot an offended look at Jon which made him laugh, along with Sansa and Obara. They all had idle chatter for a short time before Arya noticed her mother and father approaching their table. Jon and Obara rose quickly and bowed to them before Sansa acknowledged them. Arya was busy eating her second helping of breakfast and so could not respond straight away, but when she finished chewing her food she greeted them.
"Girls, Jon, Lady Obara," Catelyn spoke. Obara gave a little sigh but said nothing in response. Arya remembered hearing that Obara and her sister had insisted on forgoing formalities as they were bastards, but Arya's mother insisted. Arya also noticed that her mother was not entirely comfortable around the Dornishwomen, but whether that was because they were bastards or Dornish she did not know. Catelyn and Eddard sat down next to them and looked at them quietly for a short time. Knowing that they wanted their attention Arya stopped eating her food and waited for them to speak. Before long her father spoke.
"We shall be leaving within the hour," Eddard said looking at Arya and Sansa. "It'll be several weeks if not a couple of months before you see us again, so you'll be staying here until then. I want you both to stay within the castle walls and not venture anywhere else." He then turned to face Jon. "Jon, you'll be helping to protect the surrounding lands as well as helping to train the garrison. Help Ser Robin Ryger and Ser Desmond Grell as best you can with their duties. If we have not returned after three months you are to take charge of a band of men and lead them to scout out the southern Riverlands and keep an eye on the borders there. You'll be in charge of said men alongside a man of Ser Ryger's choice." Arya watched Jon nod his head in answer.
"When will we be going back to Winterfell father?" Sansa asked. Arya watched as her father sighed slightly before answering.
"When we come back your mother shall stay here for a short while before returning home, so you'll leave with her when the time comes," he answered. "Now, both of you eat your food and then come out and see us off, okay?" Arya nodded her head and returned to eating.
After an hour Arya was stood outside in the courtyard of Riverrun with Sansa standing beside her. Jon was stood off to the right beside his three friends, dressed in boiled leather and mail with a sword on his left hip. Bronze Yohn and his son Ser Andar were both sitting atop their horses wearing suits of bronze armour, both looking serious. Eddard and Catelyn were standing before Arya and Sansa; their mother embraced them first, hugging them together while asking them to behave and bidding them farewell, then their father spoke with them, putting his hands on their shoulders before saying the same things as their mother before he pulled them both together into a tight embrace. As her father hugged them Arya noticed her mother was standing before Jon and patting his arm affectionately, both of them looking a little bit uncomfortable. Despite everything they are still not used to being more than civilised, she thought sadly. Why did you have to wait so long father? You should've told mother long ago. Rather than let her bitterness take over Arya just tightened her hold on her father before they parted. Eddard walked over to Jon and the two of them spoke briefly before they too embraced, albeit briefly. Soon after Arya watched her parents walk over to their horses and mount them before they turned around and rode off with Bronze Yohn and the Vale knights.
A few minutes after they had left Arya retreated to her rooms, moving as swiftly as was possible with the dress that she was wearing. When she entered her rooms she removed the silly garment and pulled on her breeches and tunic before looking for Needle, which she had stashed in the chest at the foot of her bed. After making sure that she had everything Arya left her rooms and wandered along the corridors until she came across the room that Robb had made sure she was given to use for training. She had expected Jon to join her but was surprised to see Nymeria Sand practising with a pair of daggers. The second eldest daughter of Oberyn Martell moved gracefully as she slashed her daggers at invisible opponents. Arya watched the Dornishwoman for quite a while before she suddenly stopped and faced her.
"Are you going to join me little wolf?" Nymeria asked. Arya entered the room properly, closing the door behind her before she walked further in.
"You've got a height advantage over me, I'd only lose," she responded. Nymeria laughed as she spun her daggers in her hands before sheathing them.
"My father always said that you should never underestimate an opponent just because they are shorter than you," she said with a giggle. "He has let me and my sisters learn how to fight, using whatever weapon we desire to learn to use." Arya smiled at her as she drew Needle and walked to the centre of the room while Nymeria stepped aside for her.
"My father only recently allowed me to learn how to use a sword," Arya told her. Nymeria laughed softly just as Arya was about to begin her water dance training.
"Is that what you call that?" she asked, her voice teasing. "That looks more like a sword that the Bravos of Braavos use." Arya smirked and nodded her head.
"It is," she said. "I was being trained the water dance by Syrio Forrel, who was the First Sword to the Sealord of Braavos." Nymeria looked at Arya then with a look of respect.
"A First Sword, eh? Well not even I would turn my nose up to someone like that," she said. "I've seen how the Bravos fight, and it is certainly an elegant form of swordplay. A handy technique for one on one combat, but useless against several opponents unless you are well trained and skilled." Arya frowned at Nymeria's words.
"I saw Syrio defeat several Lannister men-at-arms who came to arrest me after my father was arrested by Joffrey," she said trying not to raise her voice. "And that was with a training sword." Nymeria gave her a small smile as she walked over to a small case with some training weapons within.
"Then he must have been a master swordsman to fight off so many foes," she said. "But for someone with your skill level, it's a useless technique against more than one opponent. So..." Nymeria turned to face Arya with a pair of short wooden swords. "Let us see how good you can learn a second style of fighting." Arya was surprised by this as Nymeria stepped closer and held out one of the swords to her.
"Wouldn't that put me at a disadvantage if I want to keep learning the water dance?" she asked as she put Needle away. Nymeria simply smiled at her before answering.
"A swordsman can master one technique with the sword, but a true master can fight with two or more styles as well as master one particular style," she told her. "You can still practice the water dance, but you and I can practice another style together, see how well you adapt." Nymeria gave a twirl of her wooden sword which Arya tried to mimic, only to drop the sword with a clatter. Nymeria giggled while Arya picked up the sword and then took her fighting stance. "Left handed? That'll confound many opponents in a fight." Arya smiled as she remembered Syrio making the same observation. "Now then Princess Arya, let's begin," Nymeria said before lunging at her. Arya had no time to tell the Sand Snake to not call her by her title as she soon found herself sparring with the elder woman, laughing away as she traded swings and slashes and lunges. Now this is how to have fun.
Author's Note: Next chapter will be up shortly.
So we have had a look at things from the POV of Bronze Yohn and we see Robb discovering the secret path that allowed him to enter the Westerlands without going through the Golden Tooth. With Petyr I wanted to let folk know where he was as well as showing how he is trying to adapt to the situation (which he isn't doing too good a job of right now). As for Arya, well I just felt like going back to her. I'll admit I love her character and do have a wee bit of a soft spot for her. I hate how she seems to have become a cold person over the course of the canon story, but with what she has had to put up with it's hardly surprising is it? We'll get to see her again, but we won't have her POV for a long time yet.
Anyway, next up we have the battle at Oxcross and then we go to the Golden Tooth. See ya there.