Don't assume Ned's fate. Some things will play out the same, most things will not.
Tyrion III
Only the vanguard of his father's army had arrived when Tyrion was given the orders to storm the keep. The two thousand infantry men that flew the Lion of Lannister, amongst several other banners, were led by Ser Lyle Crakehall, a large man known as Strongboar; though even Stongboar paled in comparison to the Mountain. Their arrival brought their force surrounding the Tower of the Rush up to five thousand three hundred.
Word had come that Ned Stark had sent a force of about six thousand men from King's Landing to break the siege, and Tyrion knew there was a force of several thousand Riverlanders forming to their north. Their scouts and outriders were keeping an eye on that growing force of Rivermen, making sure they wouldn't wake up to any surprise attacks. His father wanted the siege over with before either of those forces decided to make a move on them.
"How far back is my father?" Tyrion asked, as the news was relayed to him.
"About two to three days," Strongboar stated. "He wants the keep stormed, Ser Jaime free, and then for us to pull back to the other side of the Blackwater."
Tyrion nodded his head. With only the one bridge to cross the Blackwater Rush, crossing it and setting up defensive positions would make it idiotic for the King's Landing forces to attack. They'd have to find places to ford either up or down the river, something that would takes days to accomplish. Enough time for his father to arrive with the rest of his host.
"Let me talk to Lord Lolliston. He'll release Jaime to us once he realizes the hopelessness of his situation. I can have this wrapped up shortly."
The Stongboar shook his head, a grim look upon his face. "Your father wants the keep stormed and the Lollistons killed."
Tyrion winced. Of course his father wanted the Lolliston family killed. The man had dared to capture a Lannister, even if it was on the King's orders, and for that he had to suffer the consequences. Another reminder of the Rains of Castamere to any who thought to stand up to House Lannister.
"Well then, the ladders have been built. I'd let Ser Gregor lead the charge. I doubt any arrows will be able to fully penetrate his armor."
The Mountain did indeed lead the charge. He was the first one on the walls, his armor littered with arrows, making the man look like a giant murderous porcupine. Tyrion would have laughed if not for the seriousness of the situation.
There were maybe a hundred fighting men within the keep, and of them only eighty were armored properly. The fighting was over within the hour, but the screams of the house servants and members of the Lolliston family lasted a few hours more as the Mountain and his men had their way with them all.
As much as he wanted to be there when his brother was freed, Tyrion found he had no stomach for what the Mountain was doing. The sight of a dead man with an open stomach and his guts hanging out was one thing, but what was being done to those people, that was another thing altogether. Instead he went to his tent and did his best to block out the screams.
"War is ugly business," Bronn pointed out.
"That it is," Tyrion agreed, "but what is happening in that keep is not war."
Bronn only shrugged in response. If there was one thing Tyrion learned about the sellsword, it was that he had no morals and was only in it for himself. As long as Tyrion paid him he would have the man's loyalty but even if they knew each other for decades, as soon as Tyrion's coin ran out so would Bronn's loyalty.
Ser Adam Marbrand and Ser Lyle Cakehall arrived at his tent with Jaime in between them. His brother looked a little grimy, as it had likely been a month or so since he last bathed, but otherwise he appeared fine.
"We've counted the casualties," Ser Adam said. "Forty-three dead, another twenty-fourwounded."
"Your first victory as a commander," Jaime said with his patented smirk. "Congratulations little brother, I didn't think you had it in you."
"I see not even a few weeks imprisoned can dull your humor, given you're making jests as our men rape and slaughter the people in that keep, and our father wages war against the Riverlands. All because of you."
"It's great to see you too," Jaime replied, his smirk dropping as he grabbed the cup of wine Tyrion had poured himself and started drinking it.
"Sers Adam and Lyle, I want men to strip the dead of anything useful and to pile our dead on wagons, we'll bury them when we have time. Get others to start packing up camp. They're free to take whatever valuables they want from the keep. We head out to cross the Blackwater in three hours."
The two knights glanced briefly at Jaime before they bowed and left the tent to do as they were told. Tyrion had to admit there was a certain feeling of power at having such experienced warriors do as he commanded.
"Who's this?" Jaime asked, nodding his head at Bronn.
"This is Bronn. A sellsword I hired to be my personal sword."
"You've barely paid me shit so far," Bronn muttered.
Tyrion pulled out a silver stag and flipped it to the sellsword, who easily caught it. "There, a silver stag for you to shut up."
Bronn snorted but pocketed the coin and left the tent. Jaime watched him leave with a bemused expression on his face.
"You let him speak to you that way?"
"His blunt nature is refreshing to be honest. I don't have to worry about him telling me what I want to hear just because I'm a Lannister. I also don't have to worry about him caving in my face like the Mountain."
Jaime winced and rubbed at the side of his face in a rare showing of uncertainty. "I didn't expect father to unleash that … man. What are father's plans exactly?"
"Whatever they are, he hasn't deemed to inform me, though I can take a guess." Jaime indicated for him to do so. "He told Edmure Tully to have you released and was rebuffed, so he intends to make the Lord Paramount of the Trident regret such a decision. A force under Lord Brax marches on Riverrun, and I doubt he'll turn around with the army he marches here with. We'll march into the Riverlands and burn as much as we can."
With Jaime freed, leadership of their host seemed to unanimously transfer to his older brother. Tyrion could do nothing but watch as the men who had turned to him for orders now turned to his brother, and Jaime accepted the position without a second thought. Like most of his life, Tyrion found himself being pushed to the side for one of his siblings.
Despite it being Tyrion's orders from earlier, under Jaime they finished ransacking the Tower of the Rush, packed up camp, and marched the several miles to the south, where they crossed the bridge over the Blackwater Rush. The sun was setting when they started setting up their new camp and defenses.
Scouts reported the sight of the rest of his father's army on the morning of the third day. It took hours for the thousands of men to arrive, where they began expanding upon the camp and defenses set up.
His father marched into the camp with Uncle Kevan at his side. Because he was not a sentimental man, Tywin Lannister had his main tent set up first, a long and arduous process, before calling his sons to him.
Tyrion had observed the camp followers who trailed after the army; the blacksmiths, stablehands, cooks, healers, and various other servants. And then there were the whores, who followed at the very back and would try to sneak into the various tents at night to play their trade.
"While I am meeting with my father, bring one of the whores to my tent," Tyrion instructed Bronn. "Preferably one closer to me in height."
"Do you want me to see if the Mountain is available?" Bronn asked.
"Don't let the man here you joke about him like that, or you'll be the one he's buggering," Tyrion warned.
Bronn grimaced at the imagery as he went in search of a whore and Tyrion went to the main tent. Inside he found his father seated with Uncle Kevan and Jaime to his left and right. Seated around the table were Lord Lewys Lydden, Lord Harys Swift, Lord Deran Serret, Ser Adam Marbrand, Ser Lyle Crakehall, Ser Amory Lorch, and Ser Gregor Clegane. Tyrion saw that there was a spot between Jaime and Ser Adam and so made his way toward it.
"There is much to discuss," his father said, looking over the men assembled in front of him. "Lord Brax has smashed the small host meant to block the River Road and rides toward Riverrun. Jaime, you will ride north with some men and take command of the host."
"Are you sure that is wise, me traveling?" Jaime asked. "Even if we weren't fighting the Riverlands I'm still a wanted man."
"Yes, because of your stupidity you are still a wanted man at the moment but that will be changing. News from King's Landing has King Robert missing."
Everyone at the table reacted in surprise to the news, even Uncle Kevan. Well everyone except Clegane who couldn't seem to care less. His father must have received this news recently and had decided to sit on it.
"The King set sail for Dragonstone and never made it. That was over a week ago. Cersei is going to put Joffrey on the throne, and replace Ned Stark as the Hand of the King."
"Who will be the new Hand?" Lord Deran Serret asked.
"I will be appointed the position," his father responded, as if the answer was obvious.
The obvious answer for everyone but Lord Deran Serret apparently. Tyrion knew his sister had tried to get Robert to make their father Hand after Jon Arryn's death over a year ago. It made sense that if Robert truly was gone and Joffrey was to be king, then Tywin Lannister would take over as Hand once again.
"However, despite this, Edmure Tully and the Riverlands must pay for their slights, so I will not take up the position right away. Instead my other son will go in my place."
Normally Tyrion would think of the folly his father was following, in continuing this war against the Riverlands, especially now that the King was missing and Jaime was no longer going to be a wanted man, but the second part of that sentence had his full attention. He was going to be acting Hand of the King?
"If you believe that is wise, father," Tyrion said, bowing his head and hoping to hide the giddy look that was overtaking his face.
"Your sister is willful and thinks she is smarter than she really is. Despite everything else you lack, you at least have some brains. If nothing else, I know you won't let her bully you as she does others."
Those words were the most praise Tyrion had ever heard his father heap upon him. Tyrion noticed Jaime had a frown on his face. It was clear his brother wanted to say something, but was holding his tongue.
"What about the force sent by Lord Stark?" Ser Adam asked.
"Ser Mandon Moore of the Kingsguard has been dispatched with orders for them to halt and return back to King's Landing. Given our strong defensive position, they will not attack us anytime soon and he will reach them before they do."
Murmurs at their good fortunes left the mouths of most of those at the table. Their biggest threat had been the combining of the Rivermen to their north with the six thousand men sent by Ned Stark. With the men sent by Ned Stark being turned back around that only left the Rivermen, who they likely outnumbered three to one.
"Ser Gregor and Ser Amory, you will each be given five hundred cavalry. Avoid the army to the north and ride into the heart of the Riverlands and burn it. You won't have the men for the keeps but the villages and farms will be yours for the taken."
The two men grinned their sinister grins and Tyrion felt his stomach churn at the thought of what they and their men would do to the Riverlands. The screams from the Tower of the Rush still rung in his ears.
"I will take the army up the God's Eye river. There is a bridge halfway up that will allow us to cross to the eastern shore. We will march to the Kingsroad before heading north and circling around on Harrenhal. We leave in two days time. You are dismissed."
The lords and knights all rose from their seats and left the tent. Tyrion saw that Jaime was staying, likely to talk about whatever he held inside in front of their father's men. He decided to stay too, to maybe offer his brother some support in whatever he wanted to discuss.
Uncle Kevan stayed as well, and he gave both Jaime and Tyrion a smile as he looked them over. Their father gave neither of them a smile - Jaime because his temper and lack of thought had put them in this position, Tyrion because, well, because he was Tyrion.
"Is there a reason you stay?" his father asked.
"If Robert is dead and Stark is being dismissed, I should go back to King's Landing," Jaime said. "I am a member of the Kingsguard."
Uncle Kevan winced. "Jaime, before he left for Dragonstone, King Robert let it be known to the realm you were no longer a member of his Kingsguard. You were stripped of the title."
Jaime's face paled at the news before he shook his head. "Joffrey can just reinstate me."
"Do you think that will look good as the new king? To reinstate a member of the Kingsguard who had attacked and grievously wounded the previous Hand of the King?" his father asked, eyes flashing. His gaze turned to Tyrion, who almost flinched as his father looked at him. "You are to be the acting Hand, what would you advise the King? Would you advise him to allow such a man back into his Kingsguard?"
Tyrion now knew it had been a mistake to stay. He looked at Jaime, who was looking at him with an unreadable expression. With a sigh, Tyrion dropped his eyes to his lap.
"No, I would advise him how unwise such a decision would be."
Jon VI
It had been a little over two weeks since Robb had called the banners and already their army was beginning to form outside of the walls of Winterfell. He didn't raise them all, for many men were still needed for the last few harvests they would need before winter finally came. Many of those who did come were older men, grey beards who were veterans of Robert's Rebellion and the Greyjoy one that had followed it. When winter came and food ran low, it would be the grey beards who marched out into the snows for a final hunt they would never return from. Many of them must have decided if they were to die, better to do so before winter came.
The blacksmith apprentice, a teen named Gendry, their father had sent from King's Landing arrived shortly after the ravens had been sent. He was maybe a year younger than Jon and Robb, but he was taller than both and thick with muscle. The teen looked like someone Jon had seen before but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. All he knew was that Mikken had been impressed with his skills, and said the remaining time of his apprenticeship would go quickly.
The guards Jon currently trained would remain at Winterfell. Most of the guards would remain at Winterfell, with Robb deciding to only bring thirty of them with them on their march. Most of their family, including Robb's pregnant wife, were to be staying behind and he wanted to make sure they were adequately defended. Even with one hundred and eighty men being left behind to guard it, it still felt like too little. Though the worry seemed unneeded given all of the fighting was taking place hundreds of miles to the south.
With his own journey now leading south, Jon wouldn't be able to return to Castle Black like he had previously promised. But that didn't mean he couldn't gift the boots and cloaks he had promised to his friends in the Night's Watch.
"The packages are for specific brothers," Jon explained to the merchant who would be traveling to Castle Black. "The casks of ale are for the entire garrison."
"We'll see it done," said the merchant, referring to himself, his wife, and their wagon pulling donkey.
The merchant and his family who did small trade along the Kingsroad in the north were more than happy to receive twenty-five silver stags to deliver the goods to Samwell, Grenn, Pyp, and Halder. Jon had written them a letter, apologizing that he wouldn't be able to visit in person but he hoped the gifts were still well received.
He also hoped the Lord Commander would appreciate the ale he was sending as well, though that was from both himself and Robb. Robb wanted to show House Stark's appreciation toward the Night's Watch, on top of the forty to fifty men whose families claimed were heading to take the black. In his letter to the Lord Commander Mormont that was included with the ale, Robb asked for the man to verify that those men really had taken the black so their families could be paid what was owed to them.
Ladies Catelyn and Wynafryd would have to handle the paying of the families though. It was expected they would be long gone by the time the Lord Commander confirmed or denied the claims.
Outriders had sent word that the banners of Houses Hornwood and Bolton had been seen approaching in the east, while Glover and Mormont were seen to the west along the Wolfsroad. It would be another few days before all of them had gathered, along with the men from Lord Tallhart of Torrhen's Square. A week after that would be the Umbers and some of the Mountain Clans, and then another week until the Karstarks and the rest of the Mountain Clans came.
"Jon, can I speak with you?"
He turned to see Robb standing there, fidgeting. Jon gave his brother a curious look but nodded his head. Robb led him to their father's solar, where Theon already sat. Robb held the door open long enough for Grey Wind and Ghost to enter the room before closing the door. Jon took his usual seat and Robb his. The direwolves flopped over at their usual spots by the door.
"We've received more news from Riverrun. They were unable to hold off the Lannister army coming down the River Road, and it now marches on Riverrun."
"It will take months for us to get there," Jon reminded.
"Aye. The waiting is the hard part," Robb agreed. "I have a new task for you."
"Of course, anything."
"Two tasks really. I want to reinforce Moat Cailin even more, and I don't want to wait the two and a half months for our army to gather and march down there. You will lead the reinforcements."
"Me?" Jon asked. "What about the training of the new guard?"
"Hallis will handle that," Robb said with a dismissive wave. "Or at least he'll assign the more experienced guards to do it."
"Scared to lead some men on a merry march?" Theon asked, his voice teasing.
Jon scowled at the Greyjoy heir. "Just surprised, that's all."
"These men you lead won't be men, they'll be boys; green boys younger than us with little to no training. Rather than have them be sacrificed in battle, I'd rather them guard the pass where hopefully they'll be spared. Try to instill some discipline in them on their march. Steward Tallhart will handle their training once they arrive."
Jon nodded his head. It was an odd request to be made of him but he would do it if that was Robb's wish. "You said you had two tasks?"
"Yes. Accompanying you on this journey will be Ser Kyle Condon and Ronnel Stout. Once you reach Moat Cailin, the three of you are to continue down the Kingsroad, past the Neck, and along the banks of the Green Fork. Everyone tells me there are two ways to cross into the Riverlands to get to Riverrun, at the Trident and at the Twins. I want you to see if there's a third."
"Shouldn't the Twins be enough? They're your uncle's vassals."
"My mother says Lord Walder Frey is a prickly old man who won't commit to something unless victory is assured, and even then he'll arrive after the battle is won. She doesn't think he will have answered Uncle Edmure's call, nor does she think he will let us cross without paying him off with favors."
Jon had heard Lord Frey called the Late Lord Frey by a few people, including Lady Catelyn and Ser Rodrik whenver the man came up in conversation, but to disobey your liege lord like that was breaking an oath you swore. His father would never allow any of his bannermen to do so without repercussions, except maybe Howland Reed but Jon knew the man held a special place in his father's heart.
He wondered if the Tully's weak position allowed their more powerful vassals to get away with things they shouldn't, like refusing to answer when the banners were called. He knew in his lessons that the Tully's were given power over the Riverlands by Aegon the Conqueror, but nothing had been done to give the family more direct land to rule over and to call men from. Instead those lands and men remained in the hands of their vassals. His father said that both the Freys and Vances were stronger houses than Tully, and likely the Blackwoods and Brackens were too.
Then another thought came to Jon.
"Ser Condon is a knight, wouldn't it make more sense if he is the one in charge?" Jon asked.
Robb nodded his head, agreeing with Jon. "Aye, he is an experienced man with much skill, but you are my brother. I want you to have the experience of leading men on a march and issuing orders. My legitimacy gives me respect that you will unfortunately have to earn if you are to be a commander in our army."
"A commander?" Jon asked, surprised.
"Why so surprised?" Robb asked with a laugh. "We're of age and I'll be the one leading it."
"What about him?" Jon jabbed a finger in Theon's direction.
"He'll never be a commander."
"What?" Theon asked, shocked. "Why the hell not?"
"You're a Greyjoy. No one from the North is going to listen to you. Jon's a bastard, but he's at least Eddard Stark's bastard."
Jon gave Theon a smug look and it was Theon's turn to scowl at him. Robb shook his head at their immaturity.
"Ser Condon and Ronnel Stout will be there for advice but you're the one in charge."
"Aye, then I will accept your tasks."
"Good," Robb said with a grin. "Bring the reinforcements to Moat Cailin and then ride down to the Trident and back. With luck we'll be moving through the Neck by the time we see each other again and you'll have found another way across the Green Fork."