Margaery Tyrell

Kings Landing, 301 AC

She had not been in the council meeting when the news had broke, instead opting to remain in the shadows as she had come to do often now. Yet the news had travelled, and it had travelled fast and wide. Reaching her a mere hour after the meeting had concluded and the first thing she had wanted to do was to go to her betrothed to speak to him on the matter. Yet Jaeron refused to see or speak to anyone confirming that he had truly been shaken to his deepest core.

Not that Margaery could blame him, because it wasn't a knife thrown in his plans. It was a full pot of wildfire. Everything he had worked for all seeming to be for nought, and everything she herself had worked for also disappearing like ash in the wind. Ever since she was little, she'd known she would have an incredibly high standing. If not the Queen, then a great Lady in her own right. Although the former was the much more preferable option of the two. For as long as she could remember, ravens had come from all over the Reach of their vassals and their vassals' vassals ogling a match with one of their sons with her hand. All of which were firmly put down before the letters were even read fully.

Even now, she recalled the first true match she'd been interested in. She'd been ten name-days at the time and Lord Jon Arryn had sent them a raven stating he was trying to tie the Reach further to the Crown. King Robert may have accepted their oaths but he had not forgiven them for only bending their knees after Lord Eddard Stark had broken her fathers siege outside of Storm's End. She'd been a babe herself at the time, not remembering any of it at all despite how hard she tried. Yet when the offer was made to betroth herself to Prince Joffrey who at the time was seven, their spies within the Red Keep reported King Robert had all but pissed himself laughing before throwing it in a fire.

Her father had been furious at the blatant disrespect, as had her mother. Alerie Hightower may be a Tyrell by marriage but her first priorities were to her entire family which was heavily tied to the Faith. To insult House Hightower, was to insult the Faith, which was a grievous thing indeed. A few years had passed since this and names had been thrown her way and Margaery had done her duty. She'd learned what she could of them all, thought on how to work them to her advantage, and decided for herself what she wanted. The first after Prince Joffrey had been Prince Tommen which was easily shot down due to his age. Eight name-days younger than she herself was and that was too long of a wait to secure not only the royal line but the line of House Tyrell. The next had been Prince Quentyn of Dorne but her father refused such a thing after Willas' injury from Prince Oberyn. Even now, her brother and the Prince had long since made up and regularly corresponded, but her fathers roses were pricklier than most gave him credit for. Then it was Viserys Targaryen yet he had died screaming. Finally, it was Lord Renly Baratheon.

She wasn't dumb, she knew Loras had been the one to spread the doubts in Renly's head and to try and get him to declare himself to be the King. By this point, it was obvious her family were not going to support Joffrey's rule- even more so when news of him being an abomination in the eyes of the Seven broke. So they had accepted. She wouldn't lie, Renly treated her well and allowed her to make her own decisions which many Lord's never mind King's would do. So many only wanted a pretty little ornament to dangle in front of those they deemed as lesser than them.

And now she was betrothed to a boy- no, a man for he was no boy anymore. One who held many Kingdom's, had inspired a lot of loyalty, had given her a standing she had always wished for, had two living breathing dragons at his behest, and he held Kings Landing. Everything had seemed to finally fall into place, her own plans and her families plans finally converging into place right before her eyes. It had been so close, so near. They were set to wed in a few short weeks and were in the process of planning their wedding. Then the shadow reared its ugly self.

Margaery was never one to outright lie. Manipulate her words so they were still truthful, aye. But never outright lie. When it had reached her ears the first thing she had done was burst out laughing in front of Loras at how ridiculous it all was. Yet she had slowly stopped when she took in the panicked look on his face and just how surprised he looked. Loras was not someone who was surprised often, and he was a terrible liar. The truth of it all sinking deep into her bones and heading straight for her betrothed's chambers only to be stopped by Ser Arthur saying the King was currently not seeing visitors.

It had been short, only there for a moment. A pang deep within but not from a sting of rejection. In the weeks she had been here and had gotten to know her betrothed, she'd come to care for him. Although it did annoy her he wasn't the easiest to manipulate. If her father was stubborn in his wants, Jaeron made her father look like a puppy when it came to stubbornness. The next day passed, and the day after. Every time she had tried to get close to speak to him to gauge his state of mind she had been sent away by the Lord Commander. Whilst she was set to be Jaeron's Queen, she was not his Queen yet, and therefore was not granted the privileges of overruling his orders. Giving up finally and asking for her grandmother and father to be sent her way so she could discuss. If anyone would know what to do, it would be them. She hadn't been waiting for long before they entered the room and took their seats at the table in her own quarters within the Red Keep.

"I must say it is about time, dear."

Her grandmother spoke, the bite in her tone undeniable at how she had ignored them since the news had broke.

"It has been three days, grandmother. It is not something small which has been revealed."

Olenna huffed a little but there was the tiniest upturn of the corner of her lips confirming she was pleased by her response.

"What is his Grace saying on the matter?"

Her father asked now, glad he wasn't dressed like he usually was as right now she did not think she could handle the ridiculousness of it.

"His Grace has not been accepting any visitors these past few days- "

"You're to be his Queen- "

"I am, but I am not his Queen yet."

His body stiffened at the retort but opted not to say anything further on the matter. What she had spoken was true. She may have gotten her claws somewhat into him, but Margaery doubted she would ever have a genuine grip on her betrothed.

"It's not too late to dissolve the betrothal for you to be Queen- "

A part of her wished she was in front of a looking glass to get a look at her expression to her fathers words. Even her grandmother was looking to him with a mixture of bewilderment and disgust at such a suggestion.

"You are a bigger fool than I've given you credit for, my son. Whilst it is true it is not too late to dissolve the betrothal to do what you wish Aegon would need to dissolve his own betrothal to Arianne Martell, something which Dorne as a whole will take as a massive slight, not to mention you'd anger everyone sworn for Jaeron. Yes one could argue that Aegon may take a second wife like his namesake did before he conquered Westeros, but she would only be a Queen and not the Queen. Not to mention she would be hated by most and those who didn't hate her would not trust her. No, it is safer for Margaery to remain betrothed to Jaeron."

That she had yet to consider, yet the words were true. It would not do good to anger someone who already had a hot temper never mind his dragons. She'd be nothing but a target as would her entire family, and Loras would have to choose betraying them for his oaths or losing his head for betraying his oaths to his King as a member of the Kingsguard. That made her mind up, she would not dissolve this match, but was she ready to give up her position she was set to take in such a short time? How long she had stewed in her own silence was unknown but was broken out of it by her grandmother clicking her fingers in front of her eyes only to see her father had left.

"My oaf of a son did not like reality being thrown in his face. Now, you know what I wish for you as does your mother and father and brothers. But what do you want for yourself, little rose?"

The use of the old nickname brought a smile to her face, she hadn't called her that in years. Thinking long and hard on everything. What did she want? She wanted her family safe, she wanted peace in the realm, she wanted to help those that were lower than them because they did not have a name they could use.

"That's what you wish you could do, not what you want."

A small sigh left her at realising she must've spoke those words aloud. She could never keep on her courtly persona amongst her family. What did she want? She wanted to ride freely, she wanted to go hawking with her brothers, she wanted to splash in the Mander with Elinor and Megga, and she wanted power. Power to be not just a pawn in someone's game, not to be an accessory on some man's arm, not to be bound to a life of birthing babe after babe with no real say in what was going on.

"I want to be Queen."

"A Queen, or the Queen?"

Such a small difference a single word could make. Yet the words came to her easily.

"I want to be the Queen, grandmother."

It was only there for a moment, but Olenna Tyrell smiled at her words before placing her hand on her shoulder and squeezing it gently. It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud although many had realised her ploy for power long ago. So they planned, for hours given by the time her grandmother excused herself to her own chambers it was now dark outside. Sighing deeply and getting up to try and speak to her betrothed again. Meeting Ser Arthur who turned to look at her but she noticed the worried look on his face which he never wore often. The reasoning for such a thing being obvious when he spoke.

"The King has left the city on Rhaegon, my Lady."

Robb Stark

On Route to Riverrun, 301 AC

He'd only just arrived at Seagard the day prior when the raven had come baring news they all knew was coming but neither of them wanted to say aloud. He'd first stopped at Riverrun to reequip themselves and so he could see his mother who refused to leave her fathers side in his final days. To say their reunion had been frosty was putting it lightly as the last time he had seen her he'd imprisoned her for going against his orders. Robb was raised to be not only the Lord of Winterfell but the Lord Paramount of the North too. Very few people had the authority to undermine him but those who did he did not have the authority to do the same thing.

Which he had done, and it had almost broke his relationship with Jaeron. They were slowly getting back on track in rekindling to what they had before- or as close as they could get it- but it would take time. A lot of time, time they did not have. Yet the raven had arrived, confirming his grandfather had finally breathed his last breath. People had been wroth with him when he said he had to travel back to Riverrun for the funeral, but he had made his mind up. Remaining long enough to count the men they had to break the truly abysmal siege the Ironborn had laid outside of Seagard, leave enough to continue guarding the castle, and to have a garrison with himself too for when he left.

They arrived at the mouth of the Blue Fork that night. There was no straight road from Seagard to Riverrun so this was likely the quickest way for them to get there. They would travel as far as Fairmarket before turning south to the Red Fork and the River Road heading straight for Riverrun. Providing they rode into the night too, it should take them around eight days to arrive at a minimum. The garrison he'd brought with him was rather small, only a couple hundred men, and he wouldn't lie by saying he felt rather exposed. They couldn't risk it though, they had a rebellion from the Ironborn to put down. It took them three more days to reach Fairmarket where there was a raven awaiting him from a Mallister with words that immediately angered him.

Second assault, led by Theon Greyjoy. Quickly put down but was not captured.

That answered a question that had been bothering him for weeks. What had happened to Theon. The last anyone had heard from him was him stealing a Velaryon ship in the midst of the battle of Blackwater and fleeing the carnage. It was obvious thinking back on it, that he would've went back to Pyke and his cunt of a father. His mother always said to never trust him, Jaeron had always said not to trust him, yet he had put it down to jealousy and spite and had grown close with him. He might've been a few years older than he was, yet he almost saw Theon as a brother.

"So much for that."

He muttered under his breath, trying to keep his rage under control. When Jaeron found out he was leading at least one of the attacks he didn't doubt he would fly straight their way and burn them all to meet their own god. Never again, never would he trust someone so closely again that was not family. They remained long enough to get a decent meal and to get a few hours of sleep before mounting their horses and riding again. Two days after this they arrived at the River Road and he could see the Red Fork in the distance and making the final part of the journey. It was on the ninth day that he finally rode across the drawbridge and under the portcullis into the main courtyard of Riverrun. Dismounting his horse as Utherydes Wayn took the reins to lead his mount to the stables. Looking around him and it struck him just how empty it felt. Then his eyes landed on his mother, seeing the way her eyes were sunken deep from lack of sleep and crying, a feeling he knew well when news of his fathers death had reached his own ears.

"Mother."

Everything else seemed to disappear before she picked her skirts up and ran straight at him. Barely having any time to react as she crashed against his body as a new round of tears left her. How long they remained in that position was unknown, only breaking apart when his arms felt numb from holding her the way he was and pulling free of the embrace.

"My uncle is set to arrive in a few days as well."

Relief washed through him as they walked inside the walls to the Lord's quarters to meet his uncle. Lord Edmure he was now, the thought was strange to think and he didn't dare speak the words aloud for that would only make it more real.

"Robb, you'd best sit for this. News has arrived from the capital."

Confusion whirred in his mind and he couldn't stop himself from retorting back.

"Is it not best to wait for Ser Brynden and his Grace to arrive?"

Even now, it was strange to refer to Jaeron as King. Watching his mother tighten her lips and Edmure to look down at the table. The reasoning why hitting him as anger welled deep inside. Jaeron had promised to be here, especially since he had saw a few Frey's within the walls and wondering if any of them was to be the one he was set to wed whilst he was here.

"Robb, this news ties him to the capital. He sent a raven detailing it fully. You'll remember before he made his claim about a boy in Essos pretending to be a Blackfyre?"

Yes, he did remember. Especially because his mother had gone to the capital herself to speak to Varys to entrap him in the web they themselves were slowly beginning to spin.

"There's no easy way to say this, the boy in question is Aegon Targaryen. Rhaegar and Elia's son. He was spirited away from the capital alongside Rhaenys prior to the sack. He's married Princess Arianne and Dorne have declared for him."

What it was Robb was expecting to hear, it was not that. In a second, all anger he'd been feeling dissipated into terror at what this now meant. For once, actually wishing he was in the Red Keep as he knew how Jaeron dealt with news that ripped everything to pieces and this was not something small. Thoughts spinning in his mind alongside the thoughts that already were and beginning to tangle into a massive knot. No, right now he had three things to focus on. The first was his grandfathers funeral, the second his wedding, and the last putting down the Ironborn attacks along the west coast. Once that was sorted, he would worry on what else was happening within the Seven Kingdom's. Five days later Ser Brynden rode through the gates himself and they had wasted no time in beginning the funeral arrangements for that very afternoon. All wishing to put an end to it so they could move on to their next task.

Just as the sun was beginning to set, they all met at the banks of the Red Fork. Seeing the wooden boat which contained his grandfathers body which had been preserved by the Silent Sisters for now alongside some of his most prized possessions. The sail being raised and Ser Brynden and Lord Edmure being the ones to wade into the water and push the boat away from the banks to join the current of the river. His uncle reaching for his arrow and aiming for the sail only to miss. Drawing a second arrow and aiming for the same spot only to miss again. If it weren't such a serious moment Robb might've found it amusing. The third arrow being launched and missing the boat by mere inches before Ser Brynden stepped forward, white cloak flapping in the wind and taking aim for the boat itself instead of the sail. This time, the arrow hit its mark and he watched transfixed as the wood came alight before disappearing around a bend in the river.

"We should head back now. It's done."

His mother spoke, her words as cold as stone conveying how she felt over it all. Heading for the wheelhouse which had taken them all here. Arriving back at Riverrun within the hour to prepare for the festivities of the next two days. It felt wrong to him, to have a wedding a day after a funeral of all things. Yet he'd stalled it for a long time, he needed to secure the alliance once and for all so the sooner he got it out of the way, the better. The next day came quickly, too quickly for Robb's liking although he didn't dare to speak such words aloud. More Frey's riding into the courtyard and seeing one that just so happened to have their face covered so no one could look upon them, the clothing worn confirming it was a girl. There only was one girl it could be, the one the Late Lord Walder wanted him to wed.

It bothered him, as the original agreement had been he would choose himself. Yet the Lord had gotten too impatient with waiting and had chosen a bride for him. All he knew about her was her name- Roslin. Not what she looked like, not what she talked like, not which of the many sons and daughters were her siblings. Currently on his eight wife Joyeuse Erenford yet had no child by her yet. Not that he needed any more children. According to his mother, he had twenty-eight trueborn children and gods know how many bastards as only a handful he acknowledged. No wonder the man wanted to tie himself to every damned House there was.

"Which daughter is Roslin? As far as numbers go, uncle."

"His twenty-second child, fifth child of the Old Rat and his sixth wife Lady Bethany Rosby."

Rosby? Not too bad then, but the insult of a twenty-second child was not lost on him. At least House Rosby were sworn to Jaeron which would tie Walder Frey closer to his cousin as a result. Speaking of the Old Rat, he exited out of a wheelhouse with his current wife who kept her face to the ground as they were greeted within. Just the sound of the mans voice sent goose prickles through his entire body and yet he would be his goodfather on the morrow.

The day finally arrived. The day where he would no longer be an unmarried man and he would finally be getting a Lady of Winterfell. Only a handful of attendants were coming to the ceremony itself which he was glad for. Rarely did Northerner's have large gatherings or celebrations, much preferring to keep to themselves unless the need arose. Yet it wasn't lost on him many of his soon-to-be wife's siblings were looking around in disgust at the lack of decoration. The sheer display angering him even more but there was no need to cause a fight before the wedding had even began.

From there, he headed to the room he had been assigned to get ready for the day. Not only would he be married in a matter of minutes, he would be married under a religion he did not believe in. As soon as he was back in Winterfell, he would have to wed in the eyes of the Old Gods too. His mother and father had not done so and despite his mother being mostly accepted there was no denying many Northerner's still saw her as an outsider. If he could help it, he would do what he could to make the transition from Southerner to Northerner manageable. Opting not to wear any furs as it was relatively warm despite it being rather grey outside before heading for the Sept where it would be occurring. Seeing many people situated around and it didn't miss his gaze the only ones who seemed pleased by such a thing just so happened to be Frey's.

"Lord Walder looks delighted."

He muttered the words under his breath so only his mother could hear.

"It's one less mouth to feed in the Twins."

That was true. Shuffling a little as they waited on the doors opening and his bride to enter the room. With luck she wouldn't have bucked teeth and a crooked nose like many of the other Frey's did but that didn't seem to be likely. Music began playing as he straightened up and biting the inside of his cheek to hide his nerves as the same girl he'd saw in the courtyard with her face covered entered with her arm looping around her fathers who was waiting. Getting closer slowly until he could smell the vanilla scent that adorned her body and the cloth covering her face was removed.

The moment Robb took her in, he had to force his body not to jump. No bucked teeth, no crooked nose, no awkward shaped face. In fact, there was precious little of her father in her features. A small face, with an even smaller chin that made her look like one of Sansa's dolls. Chestnut brown hair intricately braided down her back and eyes such a rich shade of brown that truly was lovely.

"I hope I am not disappointing, my Lord."

No. He was anything but disappointed. Noticing that when she spoke she had the slightest gap between her two front teeth. Lending his arm out so she could loop her own around his as her weasel of a father removed his own and guiding her towards the Septon who would be performing the rights. Helping to remove her cloak and replacing it with a cloak of grey and white as per his own House's colours, the material almost drowning her small frame. Cloth being wrapped around their arms to tie them as one.

"Let it be known that Roslin of House's Frey and Rosby, and Robb of House's Stark and Tully are one heart, and one flesh, and one soul. Curse be he who would seek to tear them asunder."

The cloth was tightened a little more drawing them even closer, continuing to look her over and take her in as she was doing the same as he. The following words leaving his lips with no force.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love."

Her cheeks reddened ever so slightly but she didn't hesitate to also lean in. Pulling apart only a moment later as the cloth was loosened once again to be replaced with a silk ribbon

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."

The ribbon was then removed as the Septon muttered a few more words but Robb paid them little to no mind. Married. He was married. It was a strange thought, even stranger that he would be leaving again the following day to head for Seagard once more to try and thwart the miniature rebellion currently ongoing. With luck, he would come back to Roslin round with babe but he would not be mad were that not to be the case. The celebrations went on long into the night and it was near the hour of the wolf when the first call for a bedding was spoken. Once it was spoken however, it was soon being chanted throughout the entire hall. Watching some men beginning to close in on Roslin and lift her up like she weighed absolutely nothing as he felt his own body be lifted up. Momentarily confused before remembering this was part of marriage rights in the south. Being carried to his room which was now their room for the foreseeable future before ordering everyone out. This causing a lot of people to whine at not seeing the show but this night she was his and his alone. He would not put her through the embarrassment of their coupling being witnessed.

"Thank you, my Lord."

The words were quiet but he saw the way she sagged in relief that they would be left alone.

"There is no need to thank me, my Lady. I will not shame you on our wedding night."

Which proved to be a good thing given the noises that had left them both over the next couple of hours. Three times they lay together and only stopped when the discomfort got too much for his wife. Looping his arm around her tiny waist before falling asleep. When he woke up, he was initially confused at feeling another body in his bed before remembering what had happened the day and night prior. Feeling her shift a little before getting out of the bed too. The red staining of where he had broken her maidenhead catching his gaze. He noticed she winced a little as she walked but this calmed as he took her arm in his and guided her to the main gathering hall to break their fast. Only his own family were there alongside Olyvar whom he had learned was his wife's full brother during the festivities.

"When do you plan on leaving?"

Olyvar asked, his mouth full of oatmeal which earned him a scornful look from his mother.

"Right after this and the men are all ready."

He'd been honest the night prior to Roslin he would be leaving very quickly and luckily she'd accepted with no issue.

"I will ride out with you, it is time I return to Winterfell to be with Bran and Rickon. I have not seen them in so long."

How long had it been? So much had happened it was difficult to keep track of the days. Quickly working it out in his head and having to stop his eyes from widening that it had been almost a year and a half since the war had first broke out. It felt like only weeks had passed in all honesty.

"I will be riding out with you too, I was only relieved to attend my brothers funeral."

They would all be together then. Sighing a little before turning to Roslin.

"I wish for you to remain here. It is still not safe and the war is still ongoing. I will send for you myself when it is safe to do so, my Lady."

Much like his father had done with his mother in this very castle. He'd been conceived the night of the wedding himself and his mother often said knowing she had him helped her get through those terrifying months where that war had waged on around her. He'd kept to his word, once he'd had his fill he had sent a missive to gather all the men and begin preparations to ride out. Noticing some of the Frey's looked insulted at such a thing but he had much more important things to do than to bed his wife repeatedly. Two hours passed before they were riding out and watching as the drawbridge and portcullis were risen to completely isolate Riverrun to basically be an island itself with the moats filled now from consistent rain.

"You are pleased with your wife, son?"

He turned to his mother who was riding just behind him as was Ser Brynden.

"She doesn't displease me, but I also do not know her well enough yet."

It went quiet afterwards. The only sounds there was were the horses hooves, the steady rain falling from the sky, and the occasional whinny from one of the horses. It was oddly peaceful, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy it before the madness continued. He would put down the Ironborn rebellion and once he had done so, he would heading Jaeron's way to help him with his own predicament. Except, it wasn't just a predicament, it was a full on web. One they had all walked straight into and were fully encased in the sticky webbing. The peace didn't last for long though as Ser Brynden suddenly stopped, yanking the horse a little too hard as it let out a huffing noise.

"What is it, Ser Brynden?"

No words were spoken as they all slowly came to a halt. Watching as he lifted his finger to his lips indicating he had heard something. Taking care to level his breathing and listening over the rain for whatever had caught his attention.

"Hooves."

His mother said the word aloud first. Panic beginning to seep in. If none of them were moving, the hooves weren't from their own mounts. Trying to pinpoint where it was coming from as he slowly removed his sword from its scabbard as Ser Brynden done the same. No words needed to be spoken as they each flanked either side of his mother as she had no weapon to protect herself. Then there was a deep bellowing sound, a sound he knew well from battle. Horns. A lot of them given how loud it had been. The hooves getting louder and louder whilst frantically looking around for somewhere they could hide. Yet it was completely wide open. No trees, no moats, the Red Fork at least a mile away which they would not reach in time, no hills, and no caves. Fully exposed to whatever was coming their way as fear began to ebb deep within him.

"Ride back for Riverrun, mother. Now!"

The order came out before he could think the words through. Watching as she turned her horse to do just that as more horns blared but this time coming from behind them. Behind, from both sides, from up ahead. They were completely surrounded. Cursing beneath his breath because this was the last thing they needed at this moment in time. Then the first people appeared through a cloud of mist that was forming, the numbers taking him completely by surprise. There was easily a couple thousand mounted people heading their way in full armour.

"Get my mother out of here, Ser Brynden."

He opened his mouth to argue back but when an arrow came whizzing their way he acquiesced to the order. Looking for an opening they could escape through but none had appeared yet.

"Stay in the middle, mother. They are surrounding us on all sides so that is where it is currently safest for you."

She did not argue back to his words, for she knew them to be true. It didn't take a trained battle commander to figure out something as basic as that. Beginning to weave through the horses on her own mount until she was barely visible. Those heading their way were becoming more clear now, seeing some of the sigils they were wearing and realising they were all from the Westerland's. They must've rode up the River Road themselves to meet them here and panic settling in for a moment if they had attacked Riverrun or were attacking Riverrun hence there only being a couple thousand here. Heart beginning to hammer in his chest as he gulped loudly which was drowned out from the thundering hooves.

"Aim for the legs of the horses, if we can get them on the ground, we will have the advantage!"

Ser Brynden ordered, cursing himself silently for not having come to the same conclusion himself. The few archers they had taking aim and loosing their arrows. Watching a few horses fall and scream and their riders being thrown from the saddles only to be trampled by their own side. The sight made Robb feel queasy despite having seen such a thing a few times in the battled he had partaken in since it all began. Taking note of their formation as they got closer, and closer, and closer. So close he was beginning to make out the faces of some of the men before ordering everyone to charge. Lowering their swords so as to slice through as many legs as possible.

The whinnying and screaming of the many horses joined in with the thundering hooves, rain, and horns. Ignoring the cracking of bones as his own mount rode over people and meeting the blades of those he was not able to cut down on the first clash. The scent of blood and sweat beginning to invade his nostrils, the stench of piss and shit not being there yet but there was no doubt it would be there soon. Steel clashing against steel as the formation began to break which allowed them more space to cut down the horses. Only noticing then he had lost view of both Ser Brynden and his mother in the initial scuffle. Looking around panicked before seeing a flash of red on the outskirts riding away but half a dozen were following her and gaining on her quickly. Turning his own horse and begin heading their way but not getting far before he felt people grabbing at him to pull him from the saddle. It becoming clear now they had come for him. Biting his bottom lip so hard it split and a thin trickle of blood fell down his chin. Yelling and shouting now joined in with the cacophony of other sounds and making his ears ring from just how loud it had gotten.

Robb managed to create a gap. Kicking the hide of his horse to urge it into a gallop as he forced his way through as many of them as he could and cutting down many at the same time. The rain was getting heavier, much heavier, feeling his horse skid a couple of times as the ground progressively got muddier and bloodier from those who had died. His mother had disappeared from view again and he had yet to find Ser Brynden, spotting Olyvar fighting now as he rode towards him and pull him onto the back of his mount as he was on foot. Seeing a mess of severed limbs, heads, and bodies almost intact if it weren't for the massive pools of blood where gaps in their armour had been taken advantage of.

"My Lord, we need to get out of here!"

Olyvar yelled, shouting for Grey Wind to see where he was and appearing a moment later with his entire jaw covered in red.

"Find Ser Brynden boy!"

Grey Wind whimpered a little at the order, clearly not wanting to leave him in such a position. Yet his wolf knew an order and obey the order he did. Bounding through the scuffle in search of the Kingsguard in their midst tearing legs of people and horses alike and sending dozens more falling to be trampled under many hooves. Praying to every god there was that he would get out of this as would his mother and Ser Brynden. Who was leading the attack was difficult to tell due to the nature of how they had approached them and just how sudden it had been. A loud whinny leaving his horse as it skidded and faltered for himself and Olyvar to be thrown from its back. Noticing its leg had been sliced through which meant he was now afoot which was far from ideal. A moment later two people were upon him, the blood covering the sigils they wore so he could not tell which House they were a part of or which army they were a part of. Parrying the blows as best he could but he was tiring and quickly at that. Noticing the fighting was getting slower until it finally came to a standstill. More hooves joining in but only a dozen or so.

"Did you succeed?"

One of them asked, Robb focusing on fighting the man in front of him now he'd been somewhat distracted and cutting him down. A moment later, he felt the biting cold of a blade pressed against his neck and his arms restrained. Trying to angle himself to kick whoever had grabbed him but it was for nought as someone picked up what appeared to be a staff of some kind and slam it against his knees causing him to yell out in pain. One of those who had just rode up getting off his mount and only then did he notice there was someone on the back, draped over like it were simply a blanket.

"The Blackfish escaped, the trout was not so lucky."

He walked to the back of his horse to pull the person- no, body- off the horse. Robb didn't even need to see the face before he knew, a clump of long red hair covered in blood being all the confirmation needed. Only then, was he given the mercy of a blow to his head before all he saw was black.