Chapter 41: The battle of Atranta

300 AC

Robb

He stood on top of the hill overlooking his chosen battlefield. Around him, banners were flying in the afternoon sun. Men and horses could be heard, but they all stood in position. As he had chosen to command the reserves, he had a good view of his own battle lines. In his mind he went over them one more time.

He had split his cavalry in three. On the extreme left you had one squadron of around two thousand five hundred cavalrymen under the command of his grand-uncle Ser Brynden. Next to him on the left flank was a big group of some six thousand Riverlander infantry under the command of his uncle Lord Edmure. To help his somewhat inexperienced uncle, he had appointed Lord Tytos Blackwood as his second in command. His uncle knew damn well that he should listen to him when he adviced something.

In the middle, you had a mixed group of seven thousand infantry from both his kingdoms. Their commander was the Greatjon and he had a pivotal part to play in this battle. On the right flank, six thousand Northern veterans stood proudly. They would be lead by his father-in-law, Lord Rickard. In support, Jon commanded two thousand five hundred mounted troops on the right flank.

In a thin line in front of his whole force stood three thousand archers under the command of Lord Deddings. They would fire shots at the enemy archers when they came close and then fall back to prepared positions behind the line once the enemy started moving up.

This left another four thousand of his thirty-one thousand men in reserve. Two thousand heavy infantry and two thousand heavy cavalry. He had positioned himself here as their commander. However, in the ensuing battle Lady Mormont would lead the infantry and he would charge with the mounted troops.

His battle plan was simple, but difficult to pull off. He would skirmish with the enemy until they came to them. Enemy charges would be mitigated by stakes put in front of the line and the fall back positions for the archers. He had also put a company of pike men on each flank, to help ensure nothing happened there.

He would hold the enemy on the flanks and tire them out. Tywin would expect him to go around the flanks with his reserve cavalry, but instead the Greatjon would open his line and he would charge the center. He would push true the center, while Lady Mormont followed up behind him with her troops. Together with the Greatjon she would fall in behind him and break the enemy center. After that, he would circle back and envelop the flanks.

Although to make that work, he needed to force Tywin to commit his reserves to the flanks first. As such, Jon and the Blackfish were ordered to feint attacks to the side if possible. He was still annoyed that Lord Roose had ordered Domeric to stay with the main Bolton force. He had wanted him to command the right flank cavalry, but now Jon led it instead with Domeric's uncle, Rickard Ryswell, as his second.

His army was as ready as they'd ever be. Around him, an elite bodyguard had formed. It consisted of some of his friends and companions like Torr, Lucas Blackwood, Robin Flint, Dacey Mormont, Olyvar Frey, Ser Perwyn Frey, Smalljon Umber, Ser Donnel Locke and Owen Norrey. However, a lot of other Riverlanders had joined as well. Patrek Mallister, Hendry Bracken, Ser Ellery and his brother Ser Kirth Vance, Ser Bertram Cox, Ser Tytos Frey, Ser Arwood Frey, Ser Theo Frey, Ser Aemon Rivers and a few others. A very interesting addition was Benfred Stout, a distant kinsman through the formally forgotten descendants of Artos Stark.

It was a strong company of men and on top of that he had Grey Wind and two thousand other heavy cavalry to protect him, he would be fine.

As he looked over the fields, he saw the Lannister army lining up for battle. His blue and white banners opposing the red and green ones from the enemy. He looked across the field and scrutinized the enemy army composition.

Their archers were setting up towards the front, while three big groups of infantry lined up behind to counter his own. On their flanks, two groups of heavy cavalry were forming. He knew that the majority of the Lannister heavy cavalry was intact, however the Tyrell heavy horsemen had been severely depleted in the battle against Stannis and the battle of Acorn Hall. This was reflected in the fact that the right block carried Tyrell banners, while the left and the reserve heavy cavalry wore the Lannister colors.

Most of the infantry and archers seemed to be from the Reach. In typical Lannister tradition, a vanguard clearly made up of 'disposables' lined up in front. He could see outriders, sellswords and light cavalry form up under the banner of House Oakheart. He vaguely remembered that Lady Oakheart had many sons, one of them must be in command there.

He looked for signs of the other commanders. To no one's surprise, the main Lannister banner was positioned with the reserves. Tywin would lead from the back again as always, while he did it for the first time here.

Their right cavalry would no doubt be under the command of Loras Tyrell, a brash youth. A thing they could use. He immediately motioned a messenger and told him to bring this news to both his uncles, starting with the Blackfish. The left cavalry was more difficult to see, but if he had to guess it would be either one of the remaining members of House Brax or the Marbrand heir.

The infantry center would be under Tywin's brother Kevan, as always. This could be seen as there was a Lannister banner surrounded by those of other western houses like Serret, Lydden and Swyft. On their left he saw the banner of House Rowan, while on their right to his surprise he saw the banner of House Beesbury. As he thought about it he needed to admit that the Reach had lost a lot of their nobles already, either dead or captive. Ser Bertram was apparently a good fighter and tactician, so it made some sense. The fact Loras Tyrell deemed him a friend might have played a role as well.

His scouts had told him that the enemy had some thirty-five thousand men in their army. This meant that they were slightly outnumbered, but if his plan worked that shouldn't be a problem.

Satisfied with his positioning and that of his enemy, he simply waited in silence. While most others would have felt nervous in his stead, he felt calm. He suspected that this had much to do with his connection with Grey Wind, as he almost felt like a hunter who had finally caught his prey. Whatever the case, his companion was at his side as always.

Soon the enemy archers approached. Due to his own army's better positioning, his archers got two shots off before the enemy could begin to fire back. Lord Deddings timed the volleys perfectly and they were devastating. Less than five minutes later it was clear to all that they would win this first skirmish battle. However instead of retreating his archers, Tywin ordered his vanguard forward.

He gave the command to pull back the archers and his horns blew the respective signals. The enemy vanguard charged into their backs but noticed the hidden stakes far too late. Their charge was horribly disrupted because of them, and almost all of archers safely retreated behind the infantry lines. The riders that got through the charge were met with his spearmen and quickly finished off. Seeing that, the majority of the enemy vanguard turned around and retreated back to their lines.

They did that just in time, as his archers were preparing to shower them with arrows from their new position. Only a dozen or so stragglers weren't lucky enough to retreat quickly enough. Their bodies lying between the two forces as a warning of what was to come.

In response, trumpets could be heard from the other side of the field. Soon the three infantry groups marched forward. All of them were larger than his own blocks, but his forces were much more experienced and disciplined. They would hold he was sure of it.

With his archers now safely behind his own infantry line, they were ready to fire. Volley after volley was shot upon the marching enemy. His archers didn't target just one group and with their three thousand men they had more than enough arrows to hit over the whole line. The results were clearly visible, as dozens of men fell in all groups at every volley. The forces under Rowan and Kevan Lannister stubbornly pushed on, their discipline clearly showing.

However, the force that was marching towards his left flank wasn't taking it so well. He could already spot small holes in the ranks that weren't being filled quickly enough. He could easily see that there would be his enemies' weakness. He beckoned another messenger his way. He ordered him to tell Lord Deddings to focus more of his fire on the backlines on that left side, once the forces engaged. With a little luck, he could hamper the enemy push that way.

His flanks had to hold until Tywin used his reserves, and this might help his left at least. His right would hold, Lord Rickard would rather die than give Rowan an inch of land. He also had their veteran infantry at his back, so he wasn't overly worried as long as his plan worked.

Soon the infantry clashed and sounds of steel hitting on steel could be heard, intermingled with wooden shield shattering and the death cries from fallen men.

That was apparently the signal Tywin had been waiting for, as both his cavalry groups immediately started moving. Jon and Ser Brynden quickly responded with the forces of their own groups, although they were outnumbered. Jon clashed against the Lannister cavalry in a traditional charge, although a white blur could be seen breaking up parts of the enemy line just before impact.

The Blackfish did it differently. Just before impact, his horsemen divided in two. Most of the charging Reachmen barreled forward, hitting nothing but thin air. In a perfectly executed maneuver, both groups then charged into the side of the Reachmen formation and a wild melee ensued.

He looked upon those developments and was pleased, the Blackfish was without a doubt one of his best commanders. While on the other side, he knew Jon had a lot of promise and Ghost would be a huge boon to him.

His eyes turned back to the infantry line and he saw that everything was going well. The line was holding everywhere, and the enemies' right was slowly losing steam.

Suddenly, all of that changed. At multiple places in his left and one part of his center, his line collapsed. All order broke down and half his left seemed to disappear in a fierce melee. He couldn't believe how that happened. What was this? What was happening?

Some of his bodyguard rode closer to him, asking him what was happening. Some, like the Smalljon, shouted at him to act, but before he could respond he saw the glimmer of steel reflecting sunlight out of the corner of his eye. As he turned around, he saw Ser Arwood and Ser Tytos Frey charge toward him in the confusion.

Before he could take out his sword, they were upon him. He managed to dodge Ser Arwood's sword, as Grey wind tackled Ser Tytos horse to the ground with its rider. Suddenly, a war cry was heard from behind him. He saw how Ser Aemon Rivers and his kinsman Ser Theo Frey attacked him from the back.

In that moment, he could see his life flash by. He was saved by his squire Olyvar Frey. He threw his horse in front of his kinsmen and all of them barreled to the ground. Ser Arwood, in his anger charged at Olyvar. "Traitor!" He screamed. However, his vicious strike was blocked by yet another Frey, Olyvar's full brother Ser Benfrey.

By that point Owen, Dacey and Torr reached him. They shielded him from the Freys, as he took out his sword. As he wanted to ride in, he was held back by Ser Lucas Blackwood and Benfred Stout. "It's not safe, Your Grace." The first one shouted. "Stay back, while we protect you!" The latter added.

His anger rose. How would the Freys dare to betray him? He didn't understand, but he held back as his friends bid him to do.

When he looked back, he saw how to his shock how Ser Perwyn was stabbed in the back by Ser Theo, while he had been holding off Ser Arwood. At the same time, Ser Aemon clashed with the Vance brothers. He saw Olyvar laying on the ground wounded. When he looked to the side, he saw how almost nothing was left of Ser Tytos. Grey Wind stalking his way back to him to protect him together with his guard.

Suddenly, Smalljon threw himself in the battle. He was quickly followed by Dacey, Owen, Ser Bertram Cox and Robin Flint. Smalljon himself beheaded Ser Arwood, while Ser Theo was taken care of by Dacey and Owen. Ser Aemon Rivers had a chance to surrender but chose to fight to the death. Although he took ser Kirth Vance with him, stabbing him in the belly as he was cut down.

Suddenly the fight was over. Quickly a circle was formed around him, as his guard looked for more enemies. Smalljon ran over to Olyvar and put a sword to his neck. "No!" He shouted. "Olyvar and his brother Ser Perwyn saved my life! See to it that they get the treatment they deserve." The Umber heir looked over to him with contempt and anger but nodded and called some guards over.

He looked back to the battle and saw how a hole was forming in his line. He could see how Tyrell men were breaking through. He had to do something, now! He beckoned over a messenger and told him to tell Lady Mormont that "she needs to follow us and plug the holes in the line after we clash."

Afterwards, he turned his horse towards his soldiers. "Men, the Freys have betrayed us! Some tried to assassinate me and lay dead here. At the same time, their kin tries to do the same to our brothers in front of us. Will you help me stop them? Will you help me end that house of despicable traitors?"

A huge roar came up from the two thousand riders behind him. "Then ride with me! Ride, now!" He shouted as he beckoned his horse to start moving. In mere seconds two thousand angry riders started charging at the back of their own line. These men were his elite. Most had fought with him in the Whispering Woods, as well as partaken in the whole of his campaign in the Westerlands. If any force could turn them around, it was them.

When he looked in front of him, he saw how two smaller holes on the immediate left and in the center were being held. However, where the left and center met, a huge hole had formed and hundreds of Reachmen stormed through it.

He directed his cavalry charge there. He took the lance that was attached to his saddle and pointed it right at them.

The clash that followed was something he had never seen before. They either charged through traitorous Riverlanders who had their sides or backs turned to them, or through inexperienced Reachmen barreling through the hole in the line. The latter were clearly already thinking about victory, but they wouldn't get it so easily.

Grey Wind took care of two footmen in front of him, while he hit a third with his lance in the chest. The clash was with such an impact that his lance broke. Without thinking, he pierced the splintering remnants through another footman's neck from close range and took out his sword.

For the first time in his life, battle fury came over him. He hacked left and right and killed Frey, Beesbury or Tyrell men indiscriminately, together with his guard. He didn't know how long that took place, but he only came back to himself as he noticed that they were pushing deeper and deeper into the enemy lines.

He looked back and saw how the heavy infantry under Lady Mormont had already arrived. The line seemed restored, as the last of the Freys and Goodbrooks were being cut down. Apparently, it hadn't been only the Freys and their vassals that had rebelled. The Goodbrooks too and, for fighting to have happened in the center, other houses must have also joined them. That didn't matter now, he needed to make sure he didn't lose this battle.

His whole battle plan was done for, all he could do now was make sure his line held. If he could break this enemy flank, maybe he could still come out victorious. He shouted orders at his troops and his horsemen started going deeper and deeper in the enemy formation. The fight was brutal like he had never seen it before. Men from both sides fought each other first with their weapons, once they lost those with their daggers and afterwards with their fists. No quarter was given anywhere, such was the chaos he found himself in.

All the while, Grey Wind fought around him. By scaring the enemy back, his direwolf gave him and his guard the much-needed space to push through from time to time. Soon, the first of the enemy levy started fleeing and many others followed. Almost half the enemy line was soon in panic and just when he hoped victory was in their grasp, he heard the enemy trumpets blare.

Three thousand elite heavy cavalry charged at them. Trampling their own fleeing men under foot as they shouted for men to get back in line. Although horribly brutal, it seemed to work. The other Reachmen stayed in line, while a few hundred even came back. Then the enemy cavalry smashed into the first of his riders and he knew he needed to get out of here. They were under threat of being surrounded, which wasn't something he ever wished to experience.

He rallied his cavalry back towards their lines, killing as many Reachmen on their return as they could. When at the line, his troops easily made way for his horses to ride through. All the while spearmen came running from all sides, to hold off the incoming enemy horsemen. When he looked around, he saw how two to three hundred of his men hadn't been lucky enough to retreat. They bravely formed a rearguard, allowing them to retreat. Soon, all of them were being cut down and there was nothing he could do.

Suddenly the sound of arrows flying overhead was heard. As he looked up, he saw how thousands of arrows flew towards the enemy. They hit Tyrell footmen and Lannister cavalry indiscriminately and he saw the last of his remaining riders go down too. A horrible thing to fire on your own men, but the only thing that had worked in slowing down the enemy charge.

Lord Deddings had made a horrible choice, yet it looked to be the right one. Soon the sound of arrows flying repeated itself, as another volley flew into the enemy. The fallen and terrified horses soon disrupted most of the charge and only a few hundred horsemen reached his line.

The spearmen who had arrived at the scene were enough to hold them off together with the heavy infantry and some of his cavalry. The line would hold, he knew the second he saw them making impact.

He took a moment to catch his breath and looked around. He saw how his infantry line was holding, although they were hard pressed everywhere. Their advantage in ranged support was balancing the enemies' numerical superiority. Yet, when he looked to the flanks, he saw how his cavalry was hard pressed.

He rallied the horsemen he still had around him with him and charged into the left cavalry engagement. When he looked around him, he guessed he had around half his men left. At least a quarter had been lost in the fighting, he knew. The others had probably lost their horses and had joined the line.

He charged around, while the sounds of bowstrings snapping and arrows flying overhead never stopped. He managed to organize his soldiers in something resembling a wedge formation, at least at the front. They barreled into the back of the Tyrell cavalry, hitting them as hard as we could.

The fighting here was no less fierce, although their charge seemed to have changed the balance of power in the fight in their favor. Even then, it was clear they were fighting the cream of the Reach nobility. Just before, he had only to cut through chainmail. Now, heavy plate with intricate details met his sword. Nonetheless, it still reaped more than enough blood.

After a few minutes, his battle guard was counter charged by a group of enemy nobles. Their leader was a man with a silver helmed decorated with golden roses and to his shock he realized it was Ser Loras Tyrell. The Tyrell knight was clearly charging towards him and he disposed himself quickly of Benfred Stout, who had tried to stop him. He prepared himself for the fight, knowing of the man's reputation with a sword.

Just as he countercharged, his enemy was thrown from the saddle. Smalljon had thrown himself at the man, barreling him from his horse and the two rolled around in the mud between the horses together.

He didn't have time to react, as a knight wearing the colors of House Ambrose charged him with a Morningstar. He deflected the enemy's blow with his shield but felt the shock of the blow rock through his arm and shoulder. As the enemy turned to hit him again, he was hit on the back of the head by Torr. When he looked judgingly at him, his brother-in-law shouted at him. "No room for honor or duels in battle, Redstark! Just kill the fuckers and be done with it!"

Before he could respond, the Karstark had already vanished into the fighting again. He looked around and saw that his guard was successfully shielding him, so he used the time to gather his breath. He searched for the Smalljon and Loras Tyrell and saw both fighting each other on foot, as they each dodged riders from the other side who tried to help their opponents.

If they could take down the Tyrell, the whole cavalry force might lose hope he thought. He gestured towards Dacey, Owen, Ser Lucas and Ser Bertram to follow him and together they rode over there. Clashing with a few Reachmen until they got there.

Just as they arrived, Loras' guard attacked them. He saw coats of arms belonging to Houses Tyrell, Graceford, Hightower, Oakheart and Meadows charge at them. His guard quickly held them up, as he clashed with the knight of House Graceford. After a few strikes, he managed to hit the man on the arm. His armor protected him from the worst of it, but the hit was still hard enough for him to drop his sword.

Instead of finishing off the knight, he pushed forward racing towards Loras Tyrell. At the last moment, his enemy saw him coming and deflected his hit with his weapon. He cursed himself for the failed attempt, as he knew he wouldn't get another chance like this. Yet, when he looked back it seemed to have been the opening the Smalljon needed to best his opponent.

The Umber heir barreled forward and hit away the Tyrell's sword with a sideward cut. He followed this up with a horrifying overhead slash. With his sword knocked away, there was no way for Ser Loras to deflect the blow and Smalljon put all his strength behind the strike.

His giant greatsword perfectly hit where the armor connected between the shoulder and the neck. It took the young Tyrell knight's right arm clean off in an incredible feat of Umber strength. The piercing scream Loras let out would haunt his dreams for years to come, but he was soon forever silenced. Smalljon Umber went into a stance, brought his sword around and took his opponent's head clean off.

The whole battle seemed to pause, as Smalljon picked up the head and undid it from its helmet. "Here lies your pretty flower knight! You have lost, give up or die!" The giant roared, as he threw the head at a Reach knight.

He looked positively terrifying. His whole armor was spattered under the blood off multiple opponents, the color of it having mingled with the Umber red on his tabard. His helmet was knocked off and his lip was split. His eyes looked drunk from the battle and the blood of Loras Tyrell was splattered all over his face, hair and beard. The cut above his eye and the blood that dripped out of, only served to further enhance his terrifying image.

He went on to taunt the Reach knight's, calling them "nothing more than summer knights, while winter is coming for them now!" He saw how fear was gripping his enemy and had an idea. He tugged at the back of his head and called Grey over here. In a matter of seconds, the direwolf joined next to the Greatjon and growled at the knights, spooking horses and riders alike.

This was all most of the young knights needed and they started fleeing by the dozens. Some, who couldn't flee, surrendered and after the news of Loras' death spread the whole enemy unit disintegrated. In disbelief, he looked around and saw the enemy knights fleeing in all directions.

For the first time, he also noticed how the sun had started to set. As he looked to the east, he saw the battle. He saw how the line was still holding although fierce fighting was definitely happening still. Just as he wanted to order his riders to regroup and hit the enemy right from the back, trumpets were heard from the other side of the field.

In complete shock he realized that the Lannisters had called the retreat. He looked around and saw how the enemy commanders were doing their best to orderly fall back. They had great difficulty to keep an all-out rout from forming. This is the moment. He realized.

He quickly shouted to organize the horsemen and a few hundred started lining up, but Tywin had been expecting this. Almost immediately, hundreds of heavy horsemen started shielding the retreating army. As he looked around, he saw how most of his men had difficulty sitting on their horses and he knew he couldn't engage.

Cursing the Lannisters and their whole blond-haired family, he turned his horse. He put on his kingly mask and spoke to the troops. "Men, we have won! The enemy runs before us, we have the day!"

His troops cheered, but he knew this wasn't over. They had managed to hold off the Lannister force, even with major treachery happening. Even so, they hadn't destroyed the army and lost a lot of their own troops. Then there was also Lord Tarly to the east fast approaching. They had won, but at what cost …

(Half an hour later)

He was standing in his tent, discussing the battle with some of his commanders. He was finally starting to get some information on their losses and what had happened.

He had decided that he would sleep with the men tonight in the encampment, instead of going to the castle. It was too late and there was too much work left to do. It might also help keep the morale high.

His losses were outrageous. Of the thirty-one thousand men he had had, he had lost almost twelve thousand. Twelve thousand were either dead, dying or too wounded to fight. That meant he had now fewer troops than Lord Tarly's force. Tywin, who probably lost around the same if you counted the prisoners taken, would also had more than him.

The only 'good news' there was that some two thousand five hundred of his losses were actually traitors. These traitors also caused thousands of his casualties, so the rest of the battle had actually gone quite well. Sadly, news was still trickling in of more important nobles that had died during the fight.

The biggest blow had been the news of his father-in-law. He had stubbornly held the right flank, even when part of the Lannister cavalry split of and hit his troops in the flank. He personally led a counterattack, repelling the enemy horse. He had fallen in battle against Lord Vyrwell and his brother but had quickly been avenged by Harrion. Torrhen had gone to his brother to grieve together and take care of their father's body.

There was nothing he wanted to do more than join them, but he had work to do here as more and more information came in.

He worked through it all, looking at the estimated personal losses some of the Riverland houses had given him, until suddenly Domeric Bolton stormed in. He was dragging a bound prisoner with him. A prisoner, who he shockingly recognized as Roose Bolton, the man's father.

"Dom, what is the meaning of this?"

"Ask him!" He spit out, as he pushed his father towards him. The man sat on his knees and looked at him with hatred. Yet, no words came from his mouth.

"Dom, tell me now." He ordered, not having the patience to deal with this after the battle.

"I stood next to my father when the battle lines were drawn. Suddenly, as the archers were exchanging fire, he called me over and whispered something in my ear. He said that I needed to be ready to betray the Starks and Karstarks and that we would create a hole in the line for the Rowans to march through so they could win the battle. He told me multiple other houses would do the same and that you had already lost. According to him, we needed to preserve our family's power and join the victor." The Bolton heir all but spit out.

How many shocks could he survive that day? He looked between father and son and it was clear Domeric was speaking the truth. "Why didn't you? If you had as your father asked, we would have certainly lost the battle."

"Because I swore an oath to my king, in the North that means something. Also, because I thought, and still think, that that was the worst route we could ever have taken. Our house would have made enemies all across the North. We wouldn't have survived for two generations. Maybe, my father would survive and be powerful, but I and my children would be killed in our sleep ending the Bolton line for good." Dom answered dutifully and he couldn't fault his reasoning. The Starks, Karstarks, Manderlys and Umbers would never forgive or forget that treason. They would be surrounded by powerful enemies sworn to vengeance and they were already on violent terms with the Hornwoods.

"Besides those reasons, it was a personal choice as well. You, Lord Redfort and my aunt Barbrey have shown me more respect and appreciation than my father ever would. He didn't just ask me to betray you, he asked me to betray my family. My aunt has sent men with this army, so did my grandfather. Two of my uncles fought in the battle, one of them dying against Lannister cavalry. He asked me to betray the cause Lord Redfort and his sons are fighting for in the Vale. He uses me like a pawn, to command or discard at his pleasure. I couldn't and wouldn't do it. I tried to reason with him, but it was clear this plan had long been set in motion. So, I did the only think I could think off." The Bolton heir continued.

"Which was?" He asked.

"I called my most trusted Dustin men over to shield me and knocked out my father when nobody could see. I told everyone he had stroke, probably due to his leeches. My men carried him off the battlefield and I took command. Before I could do anything else the enemy was upon us, so I lead the Bolton men against them. Walton Steelshanks, my father's most trusted man, tried to turn the troops against the army, but I soon disposed of him in the chaos of the battlefield. Rowan made multiple pushes against my line, clearly expecting us to give way and join him. All of this plan was pre-arranged, that was clear. Even so, I couldn't send word to you without the line breaking apart and I didn't even know who the other treasonous houses were …" Domeric finished his explanation.

He sighed. "The other houses were House Frey, House Goodbrook and House Vypren and their vassals. Some of the Freys in my guard even made an attempt on my life. The Greatjon managed to subdue the Vyprens in the center, but the Goodbrooks and Freys broke up our left. I only barely managed to stabilize the line by throwing all the reserves at the gap that had formed."

"That's why you didn't come to our aid?" The young Bolton asked.

"Aye, I couldn't do anything in the center or the right. I stabilized the left, drew Tywin's reserves there to give you a chance and then helped win the cavalry fight on the left. Before we could swing round, the enemy started their retreat." He answered.

"That explains a lot. The Reachmen kept pushing us, both the cavalry on the right and our line. It was brutal. After Lord Karstark fell, Ser Wylis Manderly, Harrion and I held the line at different sections but only with great difficulty." Dom said, as you could see the truth of it in his eyes. Once again, the grieve of losing his foster-father washed over him and threatened to take over.

They were interrupted by the Blackfish, who probably saw what was happening to him. "Reports of the battle can come later, Your Grace. The longer we wait the more detailed they'll be. What is more pressing is what we'll do with these traitors and what our response will be towards them. We need to show the other houses that betraying our cause is a horrible mistake for them and their families. We also need to show the Lannisters and Tyrells that they made a grave mistake. This cannot go unanswered."

He looked at his great-uncle and nodded. He was right, they needed to answer this. "Are there any more prisoners?"

"Yes, multiple Freys and some of their vassals have been captured together with Lord Goodbrook." Ser Brynden responded.

Good. "What of House Vypren?"

"Both the lord and his heir were killed in the fighting. We saw to that, after they killed my uncle Osric. They betrayed him and attacked him and his men in the back. He held the line long enough for my father to send troops and stabilize the front, but he and almost all of his troops perished because of it. The Vyprens made sure that my little cousins Arra and Berena will grew up without a father. In response, we made sure House Vypren has died out in the male line. The lord's two cousins also didn't survive the battlefield." Harmond Umber grimly declared.

The man was basically admitting to murdering prisoners, but he didn't care. The Vyprens got what they deserved. As he thought about the thousands of his men that had died because of their treachery, he could feel his blood boil. He could have won the war here today, instead thousands more would need to die for this to end. "Good. Is there a scribe here somewhere?" He called and soon a bookish boy was brought into the tent with a bunch of paper.

"I want you to write all of this down on different papers for each house." He said to the scribe, who nodded and bowed.

"I, Robb Stark, king of the North and of the Trident, hereby declare by royal decree that House Vypren is convicted of treason. All of their lands, holdings and titles are hereby stripped from them and returned to the crown to be distributed among loyal vassals at a later date." He dictated, as he paced across the tent. Some of his nobles looked shocked at that, although most had a grim look of satisfaction upon their faces.

"I want you to copy those decrees for Houses Frey, as well as for House Goodbrook." He then said to the scribe, who quickly picked up another paper and started writing.

"Who are House Frey's major vassals?" He asked his great-uncle.

The Blackfish pondered in thought a little, before answering. "House Erenford, House Haigh, House Hayland and House Charlton I believe."

"Thank you, uncle." He turned to the scribe once more, who had just finished the three initial parchments. "I want you to do the same for those houses. They all fought under Lord Frey and betrayed their king. I will make them pay for it." This shocked more of his nobles. Punishing a man's vassals for the choices of their overlords was not something that was often done, but he didn't care. He knew some of those like Ser Leslyn Haigh or Ser Lucas Hereford. They were opportunistic men without honor. The Riverlands would be better off without them.

How controversial it might have been, no one spoke up. In the end, all seemed to agree that a big statement needed to be made. "Now for the final parchment, it will be House Bolton."

Immediately, Domeric started to protest, but he held up his hand to silence him. He turned towards the scribe, who had just taken out a new piece of parchment. "The beginning will be the same, but instead of House Bolton you put Lord Roose Bolton. All of his lands, holdings and titles are hereby stripped from him and given to his heir Domeric Bolton and his descendants. Both Roose Bolton and his bastard Ramsey Snow are forever banned from the Bolton inheritance. If Domeric's line were to fail, the lands will be turned over to House Stark." He dictated.

Now, he turned around to Domeric. The Bolton heir looked at him in surprise but nodded at him in understanding.

"Harmond", he said as he looked over to the Greatjon's second son. "Will you carry Roose with us, I will go and inspect the other traitors now. His place is with them."

"It would be my pleasure." The young Umber grinned, as he forcefully grabbed the old Bolton by his shoulder.

"Lord Bolton, would you be so kind as to follow me?" He asked Domeric. The man looked confused at being spoken to like that, until he realized he meant him. "Of course, Your Grace."

He walked out of the encampment and asked his men to bring him to where the traitors were held. After a five-minute walk, he came to a field wherein a dozen men sat on their knees. The field was encircled by men from House Tully, an intelligent choice.

He also found his other uncle there and walked over to him. "Who do we have here?" He asked, as he pointed to the field.

"Six Freys and one of Lord Walder's bastards. Besides that, we have Lord Goodbrook, Ser Lucas Erenford, head of his house and his nephew and now heir and the two remaining Haighs, last of their line as well. Oh, and a Vance we don't really know what to do with." Lord Edmure replied.

"No Charltons or Naylands?" He asked.

"No, Ser Raymond Nayland died together with his men, while Ser Geoffrey Charlton, his house's heir, died fighting Ser Marcq Cox. "

"So, all of the major Frey vassals betrayed us too. Then I made the right decision." He mused.

Edmure looked up. "The right decision?" He asked.

"Just a few minutes ago, I passed a royal decree stripping Houses Frey, Nayland, Charlton, Erenford, Haigh, Vypren and Goodbrook from their lands. All lands are reverted to me, until a later date where they will be divided among loyal houses." He responded matter-of-factly.

The Tully's bright blue eyes grew wide. "You, … you can't just do that. Those are House Tully's vassals. They are sworn …" Uncle Edmure started to respond, but he cut him off.

"Aye, I know. Which is why we'll divide those lands together after the war. You are indeed their overlord and will have a big say in your new vassals, as is your right of course." He set his uncle at ease.

Lord Edmure looked as if he wanted to say more but thought better of it. "Will we present them with the news together?" He asked and his uncle nodded.

They walked over to the prisoners and Roose Bolton was dumped in the group with them. "Good of you to finally show up, Bolton." Ser Hosteen Frey spit out, but Bolton paid him no mind.

He looked over the faces, as Lord Edmure told him their names. "Ser Aenys Frey, Ser Hosteen Frey, Ser Merret Frey, Ser Whalen Frey and Martyn Rivers." He named the first five men, until we came to two boys. "These are Bryan Frey and Hoster Frey, the latter is Ser Whalen's kid."

"Why are two boys in here? They can't have been more than squires?" He asked.

"No, they were both squires. Bryan here helped his kinsmen kill off wounded nobles who had surrendered, so the knights could fight on. Hoster there killed Ser Daemon Paege, who he was squiring for, by putting his dagger in the man's back." This gave him pause. Aye, they were boys, but those were very grave offences.

He nodded to his uncle. "What happened to the other Freys?"

"All perished, most in your cavalry charge to be honest. I know Black Walder died under the hooves of Robin Flint's horse. While Ser Ryman Frey died fighting Ser Halmon Paege. Many others died as well, Late Walder lost over half his adult broad in this battle. My men are making a list as we speak. We won't have to deal with so many annoying Freys any longer." Edmure Tully responded.

At this Ser Hosteen spit at them. "Lord Tywin will have both your heads on a pike before the year is round."

He walked up towards the man and remembered his part of the family tree. "Maybe, but by that time you, your son, your brother-in-law, your nephew and a dozen of your brothers will be long rotting in the ground. Most of it as a courtesy from House Umber, if I may add. Smalljon decapitated Arwood when he tried to kill me. Greatjon and Harmond ended House Vypren on the battlefield. House Frey lost more than you'll ever realize in this battle, but you might realize your own personal losses.."

Not sparing him another glance, he walked over to the other captives. His uncle once again started naming them. "These are Ser Lucas Erenford and his new heir Ser Marq Erenford, as both of his sons died in the fighting. Lord Garse Goodbrook sits over there. Those are Ser Harys Haigh and his youngest brother Alyn, who squired for a Frey. Both their father and other brother died too. Lastly that there is Patrek Vance. He is of a minor branch of the Vance's of Wayfarer's Rest. He squired for his uncle Ser Ryman and was captured after his dead."

He looked over all of them, before speaking up. "Due to your treachery, all of your houses' lands and titles have been forfeited. Before the year is up, your houses will cease to exist. Starting with you tonight. Except for young Patrek here, all of you are sentenced to death. Once all of the nobles have been gathered, I will take your heads myself. Use the time that is left to you to repent for your sins and make peace with your gods. You will need it." He said harshly, before he turned and walked away. He blocked out the shouts and cries of the sentenced men, as he thought about the mentor he had lost due to their betrayal.

"Take the Vance boy out of there, we'll discuss his fate when Lord Karyl gets here." He told his uncle, who looked up surprised at the news.

"Are you sending for Karyl? I thought he was at the Golden Tooth."

"Aye, but we lost too many men here. We need reinforcements and we need them quick. I sent a messenger on his way already to the Golden Tooth. Lord Karyl and all his men are to join us at Riverrun, while Osric Karstark and the garrison that retreated from Ashemark will take control of the castle." He responded.

"Good idea, we lost too many good men today. Lord Karyl is reliable and will be a fine addition." Lord Edmure voiced his opinion.

He knew the two were great friends and his presence would probably amplify his uncle's standing among the Riverlords. However, it was the man's troops he needed more than anything. The rest was of secondary importance.

"What is Bolton doing there?" Edmure asked him, while some of his lords walked over to them.

"He tried to betray us together with the Freys but was stopped from doing so. He will receive the same treatment as the others." This shocked many of the Riverlords.

"Then what is he doing here?" Ser Tristan Ryger pointed out, as he pointed to Domeric.

"That's the man that stopped him and the new Lord Bolton." He simply responded. As he saw this news was met with surprise and suspicion, he elaborated. "Domeric knocked out his father and led the Bolton troops in battle for our cause. Afterwards, he brought him to me for judgement. I have stripped his father of all titles and given it to him, as is his right as heir and an innocent of any plot. Domeric here is a hero, without him the right flank would have collapsed just like the left did and our army would have disintegrated."

This seemed to help, although not everybody seemed convinced. It didn't matter, they would fall in line.

"You have acted decisively against the traitors, but what are you going to do about the Lannisters?" The Blackfish asked him, who had just come back from a talk with some Riverlords.

"I don't know yet …" He responded honestly.

"Your Grace, if I may?" Domeric asked hesistantly. He was obviously aware of all the suspicious glances that were still thrown in his direction. Besides, the whole situation with his father and the lordship must have confused him greatly.

"Yes, Dom?"

"After the Westerling plot, you send Tywin a warning that any other plots like that would cost the Kingslayer his life. What good is a hostage, if you don't deliver on the threat when necessary?" The new Lord Bolton proposed his plan.

This was met with much support from both his bodyguard and the Riverlords. "Wouldn't we lose our best bargaining chips with Tywin?" He mused aloud.

"Not really, Your Grace. The Lannisters have already lost much in this war. If we execute the Kingslayer, both of Tywin's sons are dead without legitimate offspring. The lines of two of his brothers have also died out. Not many heirs of Tytos Lannister remain. Kevan Lannister's remaining sons are both in our custody, as is one of the sons of Genna Lannister. If we threaten to take their heads next, his brother and right hand will even protest against any further plots. Those nephews will give us more than enough bargaining power against Tywin." Domeric countered.

"There is some truth in that, Your Grace. It would also send a clear message. Not only to Tywin to stop plotting, but also to the rest of the world that the Lannisters aren't untouchable anymore. If we can take the head of his golden son just like that, people will start to think what they could be doing." Ser Donnel Locke advised him.

"Aye, let the bloody lions feel what it is to lose valued family members." Harmond Umber spit out.

"We have lost enough for their plots of betrayal, let them feel the repercussions." Ser Lucas Blackwood responded grimly. More than understandable, as he had lost his father to the Freys.

"Very well, I'll have the Kingslayer brought from Riverrun." He agreed, as he saw that it was something his men needed. Besides, he had warned Tywin. How his hubris could be so high as to risk his firstborn son, he would never understand.

"Your Grace, allow me to get him for you to show you my loyalty." Dom asked, as he went to one knee.

"You have proven yourself enough on the battlefield today, Lord Bolton. However, if you wish the honor, I will grant it to you. Can you depart at first light? I will have a written order delivered to you by then." He responded.

Domeric nodded in response.

He spent the next hour talking to his nobles and to some of the troops. Taking care of small logical things and trying to boost morale. Afterwards many of his lords were gathered, as he delivered justice to the traitors.

He first took the heads of all the Freys. After them followed Lord Goodbrook, the Erenfords and Ser Harys Haigh. Most men cursed, some cried, and Ser Aenys Frey stayed stoically silent. From the things they told before the execution, it was clear the Goodbrooks were promised back the lands they lost after the Rebellion. The Vyprens would have been given other lands, while the Freys would have been given both lands and Riverrun. Both his uncles almost took the head of the Frey that dared voice the latter, but they were soon calmed as his bloodied head rolled into the dirt anyway.

That made that their were only two men left, Alyn Haigh and Roose Bolton. The first cried to him, saying he was only thirteen years old and a simple squire. That he had only done his duties to his kin and the Frey knight he served. He was conflicted by it and showing some mercy after taking ten heads wouldn't be the worst thing.

He looked at the boy and nodded. "I grant you, and only you, the possibility to join the Night's Watch on the premise of your age. Do you accept?"

If the boy would have nodded any harder, his head would have likely fallen off. "Get him out of here. Lord Bolton will take him with him and deliver him to the dungeons in Riverrun until he can be transported North."

His last prisoner scoffed at that. Roose Bolton sat in the dirt, waiting to be brought to the block. The shadows of the surrounding torches dancing on his face. He walked over to him. "Why did you do it? What did he promise you?" He asked.

"What do you think? What Boltons have always wanted." Roose smiled.

He looked at the man and it hit him. "He offered you the paramountcy of the North, maybe even Winterfell." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Both," He grinned. "and both would have gone to my son and heir, if he hadn't turned out to be such an emotional weakling like his mother. I should have known. Well, I still have another son maybe he can surprise me from the grave." Roose shrugged, clearly not caring for either of his sons.

"He will be able to tell you yourself. Ice will take his head too, when the time comes to go North." He responded, as he walked back to the block. He signaled some of the guards to bring him forward.

The man's face was put down on the block and his ghost grey eyes pierced through him. "Any last words?" He asked.

"Our blades are sharp, Stark. I hope one of my descendants will realize what a nice pelt you and your family will make." He smiled.

He brough Ice up and let it go down in one clear swing. The head that had once been Roose Bolton rolled through the mud. After a while it stopped, its piercing grey eyes looking directly at him. Yet, they never moved again.

He sighed and nodded to his lords. He went to Ser Lucas Blackwood and asked him if there was a Godswood in the vicinity. Sadly, Atranta was a complete Andal castle and lacked one.

To his despair, no godswoods or weirwoods could be found in the vicinity. However, there was a pond in the forest not far away. He could sit there and imagine he was at Winterfell, at the very least.

He turned around. "Hang the bodies of those executed from trees around the battlefield. Hang every Frey, Vypren, Haigh, Erenford, Nayland, Charlton and Goodbrook you find next to them." He ordered. Then he walked away towards the pond, as some of his noble guard went with him. Behind them, around a dozen footmen also joined in.

(The next day)

The bodies of his fallen noblemen had been prepared, either by their own family or the Silent Sisters, and would now be accompanied home. The price had been heavy, very heavy. What made it even worse was that the fallen Northmen wouldn't be able to return North, as the Freys blocked the way there. Their bones would go with them to Riverrun and stay there until the road to the Moat was open.

He looked over his fallen countrymen and felt sick. Notable losses had been Osric Umber, who had fallen due to Vypren treachery. Lord Galbart Glover, who had been stabbed by Black Walder Frey, and the Forrester heir, who had unsuccessfully tried to protect his overlord. Rickard Ryswell and his cousin Benjen Ryswell, both dying in the cavalry fight on the right. Two cousins of Lord Flint had died, holding the line in the center. A son of Lord Woolfield had also perished in the same endeavor.

He had also lost some distant kinsmen through the line of Artos Stark. Benfred Stout, had been killed in front of his eyes by Loras Tyrell, while Cregan Hornblower, Roderick Dustin's nephew, had been trampled in the cavalry engagement on the right.

Even so, the biggest loss was no doubt his former foster father and father-in-law. He looked at the burial with the sun of the Karstarks on it and felt rage come up. The Lannisters and their allies would pay for this. Lord Rickard had died fighting, as Rowan had made a personal push at his line. Lord Rickard and his troops had managed to stop them in his tracks, but it had cost him his life.

The Karstarks got their revenge though. Harrion had personally slain Lord Vyrwel, while their captain of the guard, Harmond Turrel, had taken care of his brother. Afterwards, Lord Rowan had fallen against a knight in the service of House Manderly.

As, he stared at the white sunburst on the black background, he realized that he didn't know how he would be able to deal with this loss, both emotionally and strategically. After losing his actual father, he had now lost the closest man to ever serve a secondary father role for him. Beside that, he feared for Alys. He didn't even dare to imagine how she would feel in Winterfell when she would hear the news. Lord Rickard had never even had the chance to meet his own granddaughter. Deep inside. he just wanted to go home and hold her and cry, but he knew Lord Rickard would never have done so and he wouldn't shame him doing so now. He would have finished what he started and now it was his turn to do so. He had to win this war, for him and all the others that had died. He had to make sure that it wasn't all in vain.

If he thought the Northern losses were heavy, the Riverland losses were horrible. The Freys and Goodbrooks had broken up most of the line on the left, killing many of their countrymen without quarter. Those they didn't kill were often taken down by Lannisters pushing the momentum. Besides that, some had also died in the center, either against the Lannisters or House Vypren.

He looked over all the remains and sighed. In front of him was what had once been Lord Tytos Blackwood. The man had been both loyal and competent and one of his biggest allies in the Riverlands. The only good thing about it was that he still remained on good terms with his two eldest sons, so the friendly relations between their houses would remain. Especially with one the younger Blackwood sons still residing in Winterfell. He didn't lay alone either, as one of his nephews had also died in the fighting.

Next to those of House Blackwood, were the bodies of three more Riverlords. Lords Bigglestone, Keath and Shawney all dying in the fighting, the latter being joined by his heir. Of those houses, only House Keath was in fear of having a succession crisis, he had been made aware. He would soon have to discuss the issue with his uncles.

Next to them, lay many an heir to a noble house. Under a flag with a pink maiden on blue was what was left of Ser Marq Piper. Next to him in a row were Ser Jon Lychester, Ser Tristifer Wayn, Ser Bertram Cox and Ser Medrick Terrick. All heirs to their houses, the latter flanked by the remains of his younger brother Ser Petyr. Ser Bertram having been one of the last casualties in the battle. He died shielding shielding him from the Tyrell bodyguard, when he charged at Loras Tyrell.

Instability in the Riverlands would be the result of the bodies that were laid out before him, he knew. One thing at a time, but he feared that if this war continued like this that it would take years of ruling to make the Riverlands stable and prosperous once again.

He walked on and saw the bodies of many notable Riverland knights. He stopped at a few of them. Ser Ellery and Ser Kirth Vance had both died protecting him and the rest of his guard, the latter at the start of the battle and the former when they had charged against the Freys. After everybody had said their respects, they would be laid to rest in the castle. The blind Lord Vance had apparently wept last night when his heir had told him the fate of his two youngest brothers.

Further along, there was Ser Harys Grey, the man who had slain Ser Ryman Frey, Lord Walder's heir. A little further, there was Ser Damon Paege, another friend of his uncle Edmure. At least he had been able to avenge him, he thought as he remembered how he had taken the Frey squire's head.

Too many had died and those were only the loyal ones. For every noble that lay dead here, two traitors lay dead. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the paper he had been given this morning. It was a list of all the dead Freys. The only thing about this battle was that Lord Walder had lost so many of his broad that he wouldn't be able to send many to defend House Frey from his wrath.

He read the contents of the letter once more. At least the man who wrote it had been so kind as to write some of the relations on it, as no man in his right mind could know the Frey family tree by heart. Nor would anyone want to anymore, but he appreciated the help.

Ser Ryman Frey (heir)

- "Black" Walder Frey (son)

- Patrek Vance captured (nephew and squire)

Ser Walton Frey

- Bryan Frey (son)

Ser Cleos Frey, son of Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister

Ser Aenys Frey

- Ser Rhaegar Frey (son)

Ser Jared Frey

- Ser Tytos Frey (son)

Ser Hosteen Frey

- Ser Arwood Frey (son)

Ser Danwell Frey

Ser Merret Frey

Ser Raymund Frey

Ser Whalen Frey

- Hoster Frey (son)

Ser Perwyn Frey

Ser Benfrey Frey

Ser Walder Rivers "bastard Walder"

- Ser Aemon Rivers (son)

Martyn Rivers

Ronel Rivers

Ser Theo Frey (grand-nephew to Lord Walder)

As he read all those names, mixed feelings came up at him. Some surprised him, like Ser Cleos Frey. He must have fought for the other side, as Ser Emmon had joined his wife's family from the start. Some, like Ser Ryman, Black Walder and Ser Aenys, brought him satisfaction, knowing they were dead. Others brought up no reaction at all. Yet, some he felt conflicted about. The deaths of Ser Perwyn and Ser Benfrey, Olyvar's two brothers, saddened him. The former had died whilst fighting against his kinsmen, protecting his little brother. The latter had seemingly joined in the betrayal, but it had still saddened his squire.

Speaking of his squire, he didn't know what to do with him. Nor did he know how to respond against House Frey for now. Most of his lords wanted to march on the Twins and break it down, until only the memory of it was left. They wanted to end the house and they had a point. Most of the Freys that had died today, had sons or daughters who would want to avenge them. Leaving dozens like that alive was searching for trouble. Yet, he could not march on the Twins right now or he would risk losing the war.

This war wasn't over yet, not by a long shot. For the first time, he truly feared if they even had a chance at winning this.

This is all for this chapter! The longest chapter yet and hopefully the longest I'll ever write.

We finally see the clash of Tywin vs. Robb and its aftermath. A lot of the small seeds I have planted throughout the story come to fruition here. For example Lord Lymond Goodbrook dying and the inheritance going to his cousin.

Some of you might finally understand why I couldn't show a Tywin/Kevan POV as all of this (and things to happen later on) would have been spoiled.

Robb nearly won and decided the war, but the treachery of some of his vassals prevented this. The battle is extremely bloody for both sides. The North/Riverlands army lost a little under 12k men (9.5k loyal + 2.5k traitors), while the Reach/Westerlands force lost around the same. Prominent losses are Lord Rickard Karstark, Lord Tytos Blackwood, Ser Loras Tyrell, Ser Cleos Frey and Lord Rowan, while dozens of smaller nobles on both sides died as well (Most Lannister/Tyrell losses not listed).

Roose Bolton tried to rebel too and was beheaded, while Domeric's rift from his father and friendship with Robb/Sansa made him stay loyal. He is now the new Lord Bolton and he wants to prove himself.

Even more important, Tywin still has a 20k+ army left. Robb's cavalry was prevented from running them down, while his army was far too tired to chase them. As such, Lannister casualties were reasonably comparable to Robb's (Although if you discount the traitors and the ones they killed, Robb's army probably had a k/d of 2+/1 versus the main enemy force).

The Lannister vs. Stark war hasn't ended yet, but it has reached the last stages and will reach its climax (somewhat) soon.

Thank you so much for your support!

Fannic

Reviews:

I had the most reviews ever on this chapter and in just a few days, I'll try to generally answer some questions, otherwise it would take far too long.

- R+L=J: Has always been canon for me, long before the show. It is everywhere in the books and I actually figured this out long before D&D did it (although they ruined it). I still don't get how that surprised people.

- Lyanna:

- The letter: By the time she wrote the letter, she was a different person. She had been alone with the Kingsguard for months, had heard of the death of her new husband and his family, had heard about the death of her own father and brother, had a child and was getting very sick. She was in love and even if she was angry, she was mourning his passing when she wrote the letter. She wrote the letter a few weeks (max) before her death, not at the beginning of the war.

- Not wanting to marry Robert: She wasn't hypocritical. Not wanting to marry Robert was obviously not only about the bastards he fathered. First of all, she was a rebel and a forced marriage was against everything she wanted (think how Arya would react). Secondly, Robert had a lot more flaws than fathering bastards. To name a few: he was a drunk, had no ideas how to rule or what finances were, couldn't care less about justice, was a brute and loved bloodshed, had serious mommy and daddy issues after seeing them die from the tower of Storm's End, didn't much care for his brothers or bastards, … She couldn't really say this to Ned, who adored him. We only know about them through him really.

- Why Ned didn't hate her? Ned would have always forgiven her. He lost his father and elder brother and loved his sister dearly. He would have been mad, but he would have always taken her back. He had lost too much already.

- Howland Reed: Howland didn't want Jon to feel worse than he already felt. Telling him his father was as mad as his grandfather doesn't really help, so he downplayed it a little.

- Rhaegar: Rhaegar can't be forgiven. He was at best a cheating idiot who put the realm at stake for his prophecy and wants, at worst a raving lunatic. He probably withheld the news of Rickard/Brandon's deaths so he could keep having sex to create his Visenya and many more things. He also clearly seduced a 16 year old girl because he wanted her womb, it doesn't get much sicker than that. Maybe he got to love her in the end, like I have Lyanna believe here, maybe he didn't. Who knows ...

Those saying Rhaegar should have dethroned Aerys instead of running away with Lyanna: he tried to dethrone his father at Harrenhal that was what the tournament was for but Varys/Aerys stopped him.

- Lyanna and Rhaegar's relationship: It was not a perfect love story. Lyanna was a naïve teenage girl, who wanted to rebel against her father and her arranged marriage and fell in love with a prince obsessed with prophecy who may or may not have loved her. Although he definitely used her for his prophecy to get a child in her as soon as possible.

- Their marriage: The only thing that works out is them having married. Rhaegar needed his Visenya for the "three heads of the dragon" prophecy. He couldn't do that with a bastard, so running away with Lyanna without marrying her is ridiculous. In Rhaegar's eyes there is still precedent with the seven through Aegon I and Maegor. Besides do the Old Gods accept a marriage in front of the Sept above one made and consummated before a Weirwood tree? So is he legitimate? Well, if you want him to be you can say yes. Will people accept this? Yes and no, most probably won't. They will continue to see him as a bastard no matter the papers. Although there will be some that accept him as a Targaryen as well.

- Jon staking his claim: This is not a given! Jon being a Targaryen doesn't mean he will claim the throne. Him claiming the throne doesn't mean he will get the support he needs and do it successfully. IF he does, of course Robb won't just bent the knee out of nowhere without any reason. The Martells would never join him in a million years, ... so he would first need to garner support and then fight a few more wars.

-JonxDany: Never ever going to happen here.

Thank you all of you who reviewed about this. I will only answer the other reviews, but I really appreciate your feedback.

- HaywireEagle: This would still work here. Lyanna only got information via Targaryen loyalists and people at Aerys' court. They would be fed the lies that Robert invented the kidnapping idea. There was no way for her to know otherwise. So, it could still be through the Spider.

- Warberserk and Demindp93: I think this chapter shows you partially why I couldn't show a Tywin POV. Otherwise these plots would have been foiled. There is a reason why in canon we never get a Tywin, Baelish, Varys or Olenna POV. It would show all of their plans. So, no I'm not planning on showing any of those either.

Everything in King's Landing will be shown, although I don't know about a POV. I like writing in the fog of war for now, but I can promise you that POV's of other war theatres are soon coming. Other POV's in other parts of Westeros will be shown a few chapters from now.

- Jaimerey7000: Yes, it's a very difficult decision. The war could indeed force him, but still he will need to know what to do with it first. However, your plan doesn't work anymore as Tywin and Robb have already clashed here. I don't think it would be as easy as you say either. Jon won't be able to do anything without Robb's support, which is not a given.

- Sammy-1000: Thank you! Elia deserved so much better.

- Greywinddoggy: I don't think so. The Lannisters have mastered the idea of inflation for thousands of years now. I would be really surprised if Tywin makes such a basic mistake.

Thank you! I love writing scenes between Jon and Ghost or Robb and Grey Wind. Yes, the bannermen might pose a real problem. I don't see the Umbers or Karstarks giving up on independence that quickly either. Jon's arc will be important in the future, but I won't spoil too much.

- Force Smuggler: Yes, they do. Although, it is kind of endearing in a way too. Those are people you can depend on even in death. Jon's arc will be important. Yes, but Ned was nicer here than in cannon. Jon fostered with the Manderlys for 4 years, being far away from Catelyn so Jon's pain about that is a lot less fresh and he didn't have to deal with it in his early formative teenage years.

- C. S. Tolkien: I don't get what you mean with changing it up here? This is a story about how the Starks and Westeros changed due to Ned making different decisions because of a talk with his bannermen. Not a Jon centric story. I won't change things like that.

- Wolflord456: Yes, they were. I don't think Oberyn would ever bow to Jon, not in a million years.

- Peregrine Prince: I promise, he won't.

- TheNiemand: Thank you for the chapter 39 review! Your meme description of Jon's thoughts is fairly accurate, I think. Jon's mind is all over the place. For now, he is blocking it off for battle.

- Greatazuredragon: Thank you!

- Poly19hum: Thank you!

- Guest: You're right about Jaehaerys and the New Gift was a mistake. I will slightly change the dialogue.