This chapter coincides with the final Catelyn chapter in AGOT. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I claim any ideas, places, or characters from the 'A Song of Ice and Fire' series. Cheers

"Any word from Stannis?" Olyvar asked at the table, surrounded by his best advisers. Word had come from the south; Renly Baratheon had obtained the fealty of most of the Stormlords, as well as secured an alliance with the Reach through the marriage of Mace Tyrell's daughter, Margaery. Renly's army now totaled seventy thousand, more than even the Starks, Tullys and Arryns had combined in Riverrun.

"No ravens have arrived to Riverrun from either Dragonstone or the Eyrie." Yohn Royce said, seated on the right of his liege lord. He had bitterness in his voice after his second son, Robar, had fled the camp and declared for Renly. "We have heard that Stannis has been building a fleet in preparation of the war, but he now lacks an army to put on those ships. The Stormlands do not serve him, and we are cut off from crossing the Ruby Ford and the Twins."

"The damn Freys! This is an outrage, they've already enticed Lord Stark into a marriage with Old Walder's daughter!" Lord Jon Lynderly of Snakewood said in a fury. Their parlay with the Freys had been disastrous. If the words spoken by the Freys that were present in Riverrun were true, it seemed as if Lord Walder would want Olyvar to marry one of his daughters, just as Robb had, as payment for using the Crossing. "How dare that old fool, demanding the Falcon to adhere to him."

"We can't simply ignore the fact that we cannot cross the Ruby Ford with Tywin Lannister's men occupying Harrenhal." Lord Belmore stated grimly. "Either we wage war alongside Lord Robb in the Westerlands, or we adhere to Lord Walder's demands."

"Lord Frey is pledged to my grandfather, and will be allied with my cousin through marriage. Why does he feel the need to continue haggling us for his allegiance when we are already on the same side?" Olyvar was already frustrated before he had spoken with Stevron Frey. Renly's betrayal was not one that would be forgiven so easily. Stannis is rightful, not him. Not Renly.

"Old Walder Frey sees an opportunity to pawn one of his daughters or granddaughters off onto you, my lord. Even if you are already….promised." Lord Redfort said mockingly.

"I do not need to be reminded of my decision, or chastised for it." Olyvar said coldly. Though many of his lords had accepted his decision to maintain his betrothal to Myrcella, there were some in his ranks that proven themselves to be less than accepting. Like the Freys, they too suggested marriages, most suggesting their own daughters. The Riverlords and Northmen were still under the assumption that the betrothal to Myrcella had been officially nullified, thanks to the work of his aunt Catelyn. "We are not here to discuss that. We are here to discuss how we are going to get south to the Stormlands to aid Stannis."

"The Kingsroad is our only option." Lord Royce pointed at the map of Westeros that had been laid on the table. "Should we try traversing the Reach, we are likely to be attacked on the basis of Renly knowing that Lord Olyvar was a ward to Stannis. He will assume that we have declared for him, even without official proclamation."

"There is the risk of ignoring Lord Frey's likely request and taking for the Ruby Ford." Lord Belmore spoke once again. "If we can somehow slip by Tywin Lannister through the Ruby Ford, our men can make for Gulltown. Your extended family can aid us in procuring ships of our own, my lord. But if we want to stay out of danger, the Twins are our best option."

Olyvar sat back, weighing both options in his mind. He was not particularly happy about the prospect of being demanded of anything by Walder Frey. But attempting to slip by Tywin Lannister back into the Vale or down the Kingsroad was tricky and dangerous. It was possible that he could ask Robb to go North through the Twins and distract Tywin once more, although Olyvar doubted that a man such as Tywin Lannister would be fooled by the same trick twice.

"My lord." A Tully man entered the tent, commanding the attention of the other Vale lords. "Your cousin requests your presence, along with five lords of your choosing."

The eyes of his lords went back to him. "Very well. My lords, we shall discuss our strategy later. Lords Royce, Belmore, Hunter, Lynderly, and Torrent. Please join me." All the men rose from their chairs, some engaging others in private discussions. Olyvar could see Lord Redfort give him a scathing look before Olyvar and his lords of choice walked swiftly out of the tent to follow the messenger into the keep, where he knew that his cousin and doubtless numerous other lords awaited them.

The feel of Riverrun was one full of anticipation and anger. His uncle's beheading had been a difficult one to take in when it had been announced. Robb had wept for his father throughout the night in the godswood, while his mother had taken to her chambers to grieve alone. Olyvar remembered how he had stood atop the battlements of the keep alongside the Blackfish, looking to the south and east to King's Landing. Brynden Tully had quelled Olyvar's tears, telling him that those who were responsible would perish by the swords of the alliance. But for that to occur, they could not weep forever. This is war, my boy. We must be strong if we are to strike our enemies. A harsh fact, but one that could not be ignored.

Numerous lords had called to march south and west to put the Lannisters to the sword, Rickard Karstark the heaviest supporter. The loss of his two sons and the capture of his third had driven the Northman into a frenzy, constantly demanding that the Kingslayer pay for his crimes and be executed. Old fool. Olyvar had thought bitterly. We need Jaime Lannister to save the girls.

The lords of the Vale entered the Great Hall of Riverrun, already crowded with men seated at four long tables, laid out in a broken square. On one side were the numerous Riverlords, including Olyvar's uncles Ser Edmure and the Blackfish, as well as Lords Blackwood and Bracken, who had taken seats as far from the other as the tables would allow. Ser Marq Piper was also present, having the look of one who wished to speak loudly at this gathering.

Opposite were the Northmen, Robb seated in the center, his mother and the Greatjon flanking either side of him. Greyjoy sat immediately after the Greatjon, whilst Lady Mormont and Galbart Glover sat past his aunt. Aunt Catelyn had given him a soft smile after seeing his arrival. She looked sad to him, and as tired as he remembered her being in the North when she had been looking over Bran.

The debate raged throughout the night, each side debating their next course of action. Shouts for vengeance, threats issued, horns of ale slammed on tables. Men attempting to appeal to each other, to find others who shared in their philosophy. Men stormed out in fury, then back in with sullen faces or a newfound, joyous attitude. All the while, Olyvar stayed silent, simply observing.

Lords from all sides demanded that their alliance head east to crush Tywin Lannister at Harrenhal. Olyvar had seen one of the towers of the keep in the distance as they made their way to Riverrun, seemingly piercing the sky. The great structure created by the Iron King Harren the Black, who only enjoyed its protection for a short time before the Conqueror had come to Westeros and roasted Harren and his kin alive in what became Kingspyre Tower. Unfortunate they did not have their own Balerion.

It was still wise for Tywin to take residence at the Keep. Olyvar thought to himself. Even with fifty-five thousand men, there was no way to storm the walls of Harrenhal, made to be the tallest of any castle in Westeros. If they committed themselves in full to sieging Harrenhal, they would be open to attack from the West, where the Lannisters would surely be raising another army. That, and they would only be giving Renly time to move.

His fist clenched up when Marq Piper, who was friends with his uncle Edmure, began to speak. "We must send ravens to Highgarden and Storm's End to declare our loyalty to Renly Baratheon. With all of the Reach and the majority of the Stormlands declaring for him, there is no other option."

"Renly is not king." Robb had spoken just before Olyvar was about to make his voice heard on the matter. His cousin's voice was cool and calm, much different than most of the voices that had been heard.

"My lord, you cannot mean to keep for Joffrey." Lord Glover commented. "Not after he put your father to death."

"Neither of these supposed kings our rightful." Robb now looked over in Olyvar's direction, giving the Lord of the Eyrie a nod. "My cousin has a revelation that should shed light on this matter."

Olyvar rose, steadying his voice and balancing his emotions. He had experience in dealing with his own lords, whose loyalty were far from question. But he had his doubts about how well the Riverlords and Northmen would take to him, despite his kinship with their liege lords. "My lords, I name King Joffrey unrightful to rule, not by action but by right. It is he who I name an abomination, a bastard that is not of King Robert's seed!"

He was met with outrage from all angles. Some cursed Joffrey, others Cersei. Others clamored for the proof of Olyvar's statement "What proof have you?" Jonos Bracken called out from the rabble.

"Before his death, my father and Lord Stannis Baratheon looked into the legitimacy of the royal children. From their research of Robert's bastards, one of which resides in the Eyrie, they were able to determine that the children are indeed not Robert Baratheon's. They are frauds, and this Joffrey is a monster that must be put down!" Olyvar spit on the ground after naming Joffrey again.

"Then it is settled. We must declare for Renly." Marq Piper began again.

"Are you mad in the head?!" Lord Royce roared. The Lord of Runestone stood up so forcefully that his chair had toppled over. "Renly Baratheon is another false king. A younger brother, what right does he have to crown himself?!"

"This is true." Robb spoke once again. "If Joffrey is no seed of King Robert Baratheon, then Stannis Baratheon should be his successor. The younger brother cannot be lord before the elder. Bran cannot rule Winterfell over myself, just as Renly cannot take the Iron Throne over Stannis."

"Then we are to declare for Stannis." Lord Belmore stroked his beard as he spoke in a matter-of-factly tone of voice. "It is the only course of action I see appropriate." Nods of agreement came from other lords, but still there was dissent.

"That would pit us against two enemies, Renly and the Lannisters." Marq Piper's now annoying voice slid into the conversation again, gaining him Olyvar's glare. "If we raise our banners and declare for Renly, that would give him six of the great regions of Westeros as supporters. Six, against the Rock and King's Landing. We would have their heads on pikes before the year is done. Tell me, what does Stannis have that we should cast this aside?"

"He has the right to be King!" Olyvar's temper had overtaken him again, as his voice echoed throughout the hall. His patience had been tested with this nonsense that many of the Riverlords adhered to, attempting to take the easy way, the coward's way, in declaring for Renly.

"The boy is right." Lady Mormont made her opinion known now. "Stannis, by right, is heir to the Iron Throne. For that, we should declare for him." The debate raged on, the question of Stannis or Renly invoking anger between the opposing sides. Olyvar did not speak after his chastising of Piper, opting to sit back in his chair and brood. Eventually, the hostilities between the two sides combined to rage against Ser Stevron Frey, who had suggested a truce. Bastard, that's what you deserve.

"Why not peace?" Olyvar's head snapped as his aunt's voice came to his ears. The Lady Stark rose as she addressed the Great Hall, now deafly silent.

"My lady, they killed my lord father, your lord husband." Olyvar could hear the bitterness in his kin's voice as he drew his longsword, placing in on the table in front of him. "This is the only piece I intend to give them."

Numerous lords gave their approvals, but Olyvar's eyes continued to focus on his aunts. Her face was dignified as a noble woman's should be, but he could tell that she was pleading. "Robb, if your sword could bring back your father, our dear Eddard, I won't have you sheathe it until he returned home to us in Winterfell." Olyvar closed his eyes, attempting to block out his guilt and grief. "But he cannot. He is gone, and no about of lives lost can retrieve him from the Stranger."

"My lady, you are a woman. You cannot understand." The Greatjon rumbled.

"You are of a gentler sex." Rickard Karstark agreed with his fellow Northman. "You cannot have the same desire for vengeance as men have." How can't she? Olyvar thought to himself. She had captured Tyrion and brought him forth to Olyvar's seat. She and his mother had plotted to execute the man supposed to have sent a killer to Bran's bed, a man whose family had been responsible in the murder of his own father.

"Give me Cersei Lannister, and I will show you how vengeful and gentle I can be." Olyvar smiled as he heard the prideful and fierce voice of his aunt. "But if I understand correctly, we have gone to war to protect the Riverlands and to save my dear Ned. One has forever been robbed of us, but another we have accomplished." Catelyn paused for a moment to look over all the faces crowded in the hall. "They have my daughters. Your sisters, Robb. Olyvar's cousins. And I want them back more than anything. I want everyone to return to their seats, safe from further harm. For you, Robb, to grow in Winterfell, to father a child. For you, Olyvar," Catelyn's gaze met his own. "To return to your mother and brother in the Eyrie. To care for them. And if I must trade four Lannisters for two Starks, I would call that a bargain and return to my home, to weep for my lost love."

The room was silent for the longest time before Ser Brynden spoke. "Peace is sweet, my lady. But it is now impossible. Not after the information your own nephew has spoken to us, of this bastard king sitting on a throne that does not belong to him." Numerous other lords stood in agreement, and Olyvar saw his aunt's face fall into despair as the discussion once again turned to the matter of Renly and Stannis. He pitied her. All she desired was to have her daughters back safely, but the chance for peace had slipped away.

"MY LORDS!" The room went quiet as the Greatjon rose from the table. "Here's what I think of these two kings." He spat on the ground, drawing cheers from all but the Vale, who sat stoic in observation. "Renly Baratheon means nothing to me, and Stannis neither. Why should they rule over me and my own, from some flowery seat in Highgarden or King's Landing? What do they know of the Wall and the wolfswood? Even their gods are wrong." Most worshipers of the Seven did not take kindly, but remained silent. "I've had my bellyful of Lannister kings, and Baratheon stags. The dragons were the ones we married, and they have died!" The man drew his massive greatsword from his back, pointing it at Robb. "There sits the only man I intent to bend my knee to. The King in the North!"

No. Olyvar rose suddenly, attempting to prevent this folly from expanding further. But before he could, Rickard Karstark spoke. "That is a king I find worth serving!" He too took his sword, placing it at Robb's feet and kneeling alongside the Greatjon. "Let them have their chair and their red castle. The King in the North!"

"The King of Winter!" Maege Mormont was next to declare, laying her spiked ball amongst the swords. Then the Blackwoods, followed by the Mallisters and Brackens. Lords that Winterfell never had dominion over, yet all cheered for Robb. Olyvar could only look on alongside his own lords, surveying the scene in shock.

Then his eyes locked with his aunt once more. Catelyn's eyes were wide in shock as well, and the two shared an understanding within their gaze. He doesn't mean to refuse. All had been lost in the Greatjon's declaration. Where the combined might of the Vale, Riverlands and the North could have defeated the Lannisters and Renly, now a new power had come into existence. Olyvar shared a look with his lords, all of which looking apprehensive and out of place. They too understood what this meant.

"The King in the North!"

Robb is not for Stannis.

"The King in the North!"

Robb is Stannis' enemy."

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

A/N: So ends the edited version of AGOT, and what a turn of events. The King in the North rises all the same, and Olyvar was powerless to prevent it.

Many are questioning the wisdom of Olyvar's attempt to maintain his betrothal to Myrcella, which I figured I should have briefly reflected this chapter. It certainly is not the wisest decision for him to make, isn't it?

Another question posed is whether or not the Vale would have a very large army. If one looked at the semi-canon sources, the Vale is considered by some to be the second most fertile lands outside of the Reach, perhaps tied with the Riverlands. This would, theoretically, help them in fielding large armies. But I made it so the Vale could only raise sixteen thousand at first, a quick response force for the crisis in the Riverlands. They should be able to field more, but how much more remains a question to me. (If anyone can find me exact numbers/estimations, I would be grateful :) )

Comments on the chapter's contents are appreciated as always. Tell me what you guys think of how this little AU has been going along now that we've reached the end of Book 1, and tell me what your hopes are as we go into ACOK territory.