Cassandra waited as the armies of the loyalist forces entered the town of Stoney Sept. They had finally been cornered yesterday. The forces of general Connington had surrounded the town just as they had managed to get to it. Their rider had been sent off north a few days earlier, bypassing the town on their fastest horse and given most of their foraged food to survive the trip.

"Come on." One of the townspeople said, gesturing for them to follow as they were led through the back alleys of the town, kept ahead of the loyalist forces that were searching the town door by door, house by house. Robert had been broken off from them, it was easier to hide them in smaller groups, and unfortunately Cassandra and Pratibha had been seperated from their target. They hadn't yet had the chance to break away from their 'guide' and make it back to keep an eye on the rebel lord.

"Get in, quickly." They were ushered in, finding a family standing in the living-room. It was obvious that this was their guard's home, given how the woman and two children rushed to him and fretted over his appearance. The woman turned to look at the two of them, regading them with some suspicion. Cassandra and Pratibha weren't disturbed by the looks. After all, these people were risking their lives to shelter them. Exchanging looks and a few signs as they remained silent in front of the family that was habouring them. Turning around, they opened up the door, stepping out into the town one after another.

"Wait." Cried the man. "You can't be out in the town. The king's forces will kill you if they find you."

Speaking for the first time since they had met the man. Pratibha tried to assure him.

"We won't be caught."

The man seemed shocked for a moment as he recognised a woman's voice coming from inside the suit of armour. However, he had no time to retort as the two spartans dashed away, disappearing down the street before they turned into one of the narrow alleyways that littered the town.

"Do you have his location?" Cassandra asked as soon as they were out of sight and earshot.

"The tracker shows he's down this alleyway, then left onto the main street."

"Good. I got word from Lei, the rebel forces should be converging here in a few hours."

"We just need to keep him alive until the battle it over."

"Make sure to speak with Lei, we'll have Robert, they should focus on the other targets." Pratibha said, keeping an eye on the small tracker pad in her hand that displayed exactly where Robert was in the pisshole they'd been trapped in.

"I've spoken with him. He's designated members of the squad for Eddard Stark, Jon Arryn, Denys Arryn and Hoster Tully. Hopefully they will be able to stick closer to their assignments than we have been able to."

"There's about to be a major battle, the second in this whole damned war so far. It'll be a miracle if we can keep close to any of them."

"Agreed, for now though, we should make sure to keep close to Robert and make sure he comes out of this alive."

As they followed the slowly beeping indicator on the screen, they eventually found themselves in front of a large building that they recognised as a local tavern. Sneaking up to one of the windows, they peered inside to see that the patrons were somber and subdued. Most were carefully and quietly sipping at tankards of drink. Some poked at plates of food, and the serving girls strutted across the floor with a cautious step.

"They'll find him eventually." Pratibha said.

"Unless they're delayed." Cassandra finished, sharing a smirk with her partner.

"So, which of us goes then?"

"Thirty minutes then switch?"

"Deal. You want to go first?"

"My pleasure. Snyc?"

"Sync."

"Mark." The two said at the same time, together clicking a small button on their respective datapads.

Getting up, Cassandra cracked her neck and then her knuckles within her gauntlets. Preparing herself, she took off at a spirnt down the road, heading in the direction of the enemy that was even now surrounding and thouroughly searching the town.

She slunk down one of the alleyways, making her way to the edge of town where she saw several men in the colours of the loyalists. There were about a dozen in total, all of them brandishing weapons of some sort. Cassandra smirked under her helmet. They were unfortunate people, just unlucky enough to be found by her. This would be a chance for her to let loose, and drawing attention to this section of the town would delay the search efforts. Of course, she would have to let one of them live to run and draw in the rest of the army, but the others would all need to die, and so that would mean she could cut loose and take them down with everything she had.

Walking out from behind one of the houses, the group saw her.

"Hold. Who are you?"

Cassandra didn't respond, she only began to move closer to the men.

"Stop! Tell us who you are?" The soldier's voice cracked slightly as her height became more apparent. One of the men spoke to another at the back of the group. Within moments, he ran, leaving his squad no doubt to inform their commanders of a hostile presence in this part of town.

As soon as he was out of sight, Cassandra burst into action. Rushing forwards, she lashed out with a punch at one of the men. She caught him in the throat, instantly killing him as she crushed his esophogus and shattered his spine.

Seeing their fellow die, the rest tried to draw their weapons and attack, but they were far too slow. Cassandra lashed out with her sword, which she had drawn in the time it had taken for her opponents to blink, and ran the sharpened edge across two other men's necks, beheading them in a single swing. As the two fell, she stepped forwards again, finding the last two men who's hands were half-way to their scabbards. She lashed out again with one hand, punching him in the chest and crumpling his armour as he fell gasping to the ground. The other hand plunged her blade into the chest of the last man, stabbing clean through his leather armour and through his chest. He gasped for a moment before he felt to the ground as well, breathing his last. Drawing her blade free from the last man's chest, she turned to find that the second man she had punched was laid out on the floor unconscious. She brandished the blade, pointing it at the man's throat and thrust forwards, impaling him and killing him painlessly.

Five men dead, and she had done it all in less time than it took a normal person to take and let out a deep breath. Sheathing her blade, she took off again along the perimeter of the town, finding patrols along the way of men meant to enclose the area. Many of them died similar to those who she had just killed, but in each case, at least one man was left alive. Either they had left before the fight to inform their superiors of the enemy, or they were left alive to tell the tale of the demon in pristine armour who slaughtered men without taking a single wound.

Jon Connington gritted his teeth as another report came to him. A squad of men on the western edge of town had been encountered by another or Robert's forces. So far that had made over twenty such attacks happening all over the town in the last hour. The attacks had not seriously impeded his numbers nor his goal, but each time, he had been forced to divert men and secure the areas to ensure that there was no chance that Robert or his companions could escape. He had cleared over helf ot the town so far though, and the number of attacks seemed only to be increasing.

The strangest part of it however, was the reports of those who returned to him. Any who did return alive from the attacks were those that had been sent early, departing before any action took place in order to inform him of the attackers. groups that did not send runners before battle were killed to the last, leaving their bodies in the streets to be found by other passing patrols. The stories of partols who had simply disappeared, without a sound and without battle were beginning to affect his men. None had yet refused his orders, but many showed a healthy dose of fear when told to search the areas where their fellows had disappeared in. Jon wondered briefly about these phantom assassins who were causing havoc amongst his army, and his mind mulled over who could be responsible. Those men who returned claimed that they had seen only single attackers, something he doubted but had no other alternative for.

Few people could take on entire patrol groups and finish them off quickly, and most of them were in King's Landing, keeping the royal family safe, while the rest were supposedly sequestered away on Fair Isle, waiting for their lion lord's command to come and fight.

A part of him wondered for a moment if Tywin was as passive as Varys claimed he was. No letters had been sent to Fair Isle, and few more had reached the other houses of the Westerlands. Still, as far as the realm knew, the spartans of House Terra were the only force that were believed to be powerful enough to match what he was hearing.

"My lord." One of his men approached. "We have searched every house in the western and southern areas of the town. We have made progress clearing the northern area but the rebel forces have been ambushing our forces."

"Increase their size and number." Jon said. "We have a complete encirclement of the town. Have our men swarm the northern quarter and search through every house and shop."

"Yes milord." The man bowed before walking off, shouting orders to various other men.

The lord of Griffin's Roost scowled as he looked over the town but took a deep breath and consoled himself. He had time, he had men, and he had the gods on his side. Rhaegar had declared that their victory was assured. His silver prince spoke of their future with such certainty that he couldn't not believe his friend. Now if only the gods would hurry and allow him his victory a little faster. This futile attempt by Robert to forestall his own demise was doing little more than irritating him.

"Lord Connington." Another soldier approached, covered in armour and bearing the livery of House Stokeworth.

Jon nodded to the man, turning in his seat and giving the knight his full attention.

"We believe we've found Lord Robert, my lord."

"You're sure of this?" Jon asked, leaning forwards in his saddle.

"All but sure my lord. One of our scouts said they saw him leaving an inn and heading into the north of the town."

"Good, send our men into the northern quarter. Tear down the whole town if you have to, but find him and end him."

"Yes my lord."

The man rode off, and Jon smiled as he saw a group of men being rallied and escorted.

"Come on me." He called back to the rest of his force. "Let's get that rebellious bastard. For House Targaryen!"

A roar went up from his men, and as Jon kicked his men into a trot to follow his forces and do battle against Robert, he saw many of his men following. The Targaryen forces marched into the town of Stoney Sept, and as they advanced, the massive bells of the sept for which the town had been named rang.

Clear and loud, the sound echoing through the air, the bells were a warning. Taking heed of the sound of their sept's bells, the people of the town did not leave their homes, instead peering out through windows or cracking open their doors. The forces of the Targaryen army marched through the streets, entering the northern parts of the town and searching door to door for Robert. Jon watched as one of his knights smalled the pommel of his dagger against a wooden door. It opened quickly to show a man and woman, with a pair of girls shivering behind their parents. The soldier spoke briefly, before he was let into the house. Jon didn't see much more, as he rode past, but before he moved to far he head the same soldier's voice speaking far more calmly, and the sound of a door closing.

Suddenly, interrupting the sound of his forces searching houses, there was the sound of battle.

"It's them!" Came a shout from the west off the main road. "Get the-"

The voice was cut off, and soon after no sound carried at all. Jon Connington was stunned for a moment, who would be so stupid to attack by themselves when surrounded as they were. Thinking for a moment, his face twisted into a sneer.

"Baratheon." He growled under his breath. "Go now, it's him. It has to be!"

There was another roar from his men, and together most of the force accompanying him raced down the side alleys towards the noise. As the sound of charging men faded away in the west, Jon suddenly heard something from the east. The sound of charging men was coming again, but this time from the other side. Wheeling around on his horse, his face paled.

Banners were fluttering in the wind, but not the red dragon on black cloth that signified the king and his forces. No, grey direwoles, blue falcons, black stags and trouts on fields of red and blue swung in the wind as an army charged towards the town.

"No." He gasped under his breath. His forces weren't marshalled right. They were set up to encircle the town, set up in a cordon that was thick but spread out. The rebels would tear through the encirclement and just like that they would have separated his army into a dozen disperate forces rather than a single, unified group. Given what they knew of the rebel forces, they were likely to gather more than forty-thousand men between them, less than what the Reach had marshalled to besiege Storms End. His own army however consisted mostly of Crownland forces, with some forces from the Reach and Riverlands who had defied their lord paramounts to fight by his side. Together they numbered nearly twenty-five thousand, but they had been planning to be facing the Baratheon host alone at most, not the combined might of the entire rebel army, as well as the Tullys.

As the sounds of battle began to emerge from all around him, he cursed Hoster Tully, Eddard Stark, Jon Arryn, but most of all, he cursed Robert Baratheon for evading him for so long.

Ned charged on his horse towards the stationary Royal army. Whoever was commanding them had clearly not thought they would be subject to an attack. So as the cavelry of the rebel forces rode alongside him and crashed into the line of footmen, they cut through the encircling cordon of men like valyrian steel through silk.

As soon as the royal forces were breached, they scattered, fleeing in opposite directions as they are persued by the rest of the rebel army. Some groups of men tried to stand their ground and fight, but were quickly overwhelmed and drowned in the tide of horsemen that made up the vanguard of their forces. The bells of the Stoney Sept rang loudly through the air, a signal and warning of the battle to come it seemed, and when he rode past a few of the houses on the town's outskirts, he found the doors closed and not a single townsperson outdoors.

Ned emerged into the town square, barely conscious of the men riding beside him who had kept up in his mad dash through the streets of the town. Sitting utop his horse. Ned recognised Jon Connington, if by no other way than the griffins emblazoned on his armour and shield.

"Stark." The man declared, drawing his sword and pointing it at the lord of Winterfell.

Men filled in behind Ned, all of them rebels as they outnumbered the royal forces that were gathering nervously behind Connington.

"Surrender my lord." Connington. "His Grace and Prince Rhaegar will be merciful considering you are now the prince's goodbrother.

"A union enacted over the ashes of my brother." Ned growled, drawing Ice from the sheath on his back.

"The prince and Lady Lyanna are in love." He said, though Ned thought he heard a note of resentment in the man's voice. "You would stand between a union that was desired by both? One that places your own blood amonst that of the dragons?"

"My sister was betrothed to Robert Baratheon, and Prince Rhaegar already married to Princess Elia. This match that you claim I should be so happy for is unlawful in the eyes of men and gods, both the old and new alike. Lyanna has happily decided to abandon her family, her duty, and her homeland, and the North has paid for more than enough for her actions. I will not see it burned to the ground over the whims of one person and the cruel notions of a mad king and his loathsome son."

"How dare you?" Connington growled. "Such talk of our prince will not stand. For Rhaegar! Charge!"

The Loyalist forces ran forwards, weapons drawn.

"Shields!" Ned yelled as a shield wall was erected by the footmen ahead of him. "Hold fast!"

The two forces clashed, the shield wall of the Rebel forces was effective, but not nearly strong enough given how hastily it had been constructed. As the Targaryen forces managed to pierce through it men from both sides flowed through the gap and soon the battle bagan to divolve into a slog of men and horses.

Ned swung Ice with all his strength at the royal soldiers who came close to him. In the crowded roads the horses were trapped, unable to move in the throng of bodies and were becoming like islands in a sea of men. The height they granted was an advantage, but in such a melee, they also attracted too much attention.

"Connington!" A roar sounded from the road, and Ned looked over to see Robert, flanked by two soldiers, riding into the square. As soon as his mount met the wall of flesh and metal however, the lord of Storm's End dismounted before wading into the fray. The two soldiers behind him did likewise, and soon enough the three armoured men, who all stood taller than most of the men around them, were advancing towards the lord of Griffin's Roost.

"Robert!" Ned yelled, hacking and slashing with renewed effort as he got closer and closer to the lord of Griffin's Roost. Beside him, he saw Denys Arryn, flanked by two Echoes and several other soldiers, and Brynden Tully with his own forces. Jon and Lord Hoster had taken to commanding the army from further back, their age not making it agreeable or prudent for them to enter into the fray of battle.

Ned couldn't hear anything over the din of the battle, all he could make out was the sound of steel clashing, of wood breaking and of men fighting and dying. All around him, a line of dead men was forming as Ice cut through flesh and armour like so much cloth. With his ancestor's sword, forced with the magic of Old Valyria, and wielded with the righteous fury over his family's unjust death he cut a swath through the overwhelmed loyalists.

His eyes were fixed on Jon Connington, knowing that the man was the key to ending this battle. His eyes caught Denys Arryn as he cut his way ahead of Ned and Even Robert. Flanked by two tall figures in pristine armour. Connington watched the approaching Vale lord, before turning back to look at the two men following Robert. Ned wasn't close enough to be sure, but for a moment, he thought he saw Connington's eyes widen and his mouth move before together, Robert, Denys and their entourages reached his horse.

The griffin lord and hand of the king tried to strike at Denys, but the man was pulled out of the way by one of the men accompanying him. As Connington tried to swipe again and ward off the men who now surrounded him, he was pulled from his horse and sent tumbling into the dirt. The sound of armour and man crashing into the ground was swallowed up without notice by the sounds of a thousand battling men, and the hand of the king had only a moment to look up at his new captors before he was unceremoniously kicked in the head by one of Robert's companions.

Ned by this time had caught up to Robert and Denys, both of whom alongside their small forces looked well and uninjured.

"Ned!" Robert bellowed, stepping forwards to embrace his friend but stopped and instead batted away an attack from a loyalist soldier.

The attack broke whatever spell had settled around the men, driving them back into the fray as peoclaimations arose of the defeat and capture of their commanding lord. As word spread far and wide across the battlefield, many men began to flee or surrender, with only a few choosing to remain fighting. Those men who chose battle even in the face of defeat were swiftly overwhelmed however, and before long the royal army within the city was breaking and retreating out of Stoney Sept. The battle had lasted more than an three hours in total, from the first engagement to putting to flight the last of Connington's men, but like in any battle, there were casualties.

The rest of the day was spent tallying up the day's casualties. Ned was glad to see that their suprise attack and swift defeat of Connington had kept them rather light, with only three thousand lost. Comparatively, his scouts and commanders estimated that Connington's forces had suffered cassualties two or three times their own, on account of the spread out formation that had allowed his men to roll over them like the tides on a beach.

The light number of dead had led to a celebration amongst the army, a festival of mourning combined with one of victory, honouring the dead, but also making merry about their vengance being a step closer. The town of Stoney Sept had been vacated, with only a few members entering the town's limits to purchase or otherwise aquire various foods, ales and wines from the local taverns.

Ned watched from the sides as his Northern lords cheered and toasted to their victory, as he sat to the side, declining to participate, he felt another man seat themselves beside him.

"You're a dower man Ned, sitting here when the rest of us are off celebrating."

Ned allowed a small smile for form on his face as he accepted the mug of ale that Robert handed him.

"Mayhaps, but I just can't seem to get into the festive mood."

"Aye." Robert nodded, looking uncharacteristically somber. "It's been a hard year for all of us, but none of us lost what you did."

This was a conversation that Ned was dreading. Ever since they had parted ways nearly a year ago, Ned to travel north and Robert south, neither had had the chance to really speak of the dishonour that Lyanna had incurred both on Robert and their own house. Ned wondered how his friend might react if he had seen some of Lyanna's letters regarding him. Robert's temper was a volatile thing, and while he was quick to laugh and joke, he was just as speedy to fight and rage.

"I'm sorry Ned." Of all the things that he was expecting, an apology was not it. "Mayhaps if I was better, she might not have..." Robert trailed off for a moment.

"What did I do?" Robert asked suddenly, downing the whole mug in a single go. "I wonder sometimes... what did I do that made her think I wouldn't be true to her? That she felt she should run away as she had."

Ned was surprised, but kept his mouth shut, knowning Robert well enough to know that he was not finished talking.

"Was is Mya?" He asked, looking into his empty mug. "I swear Ned, you know I sired her before we were even betrothed, and if we had wed, I would have... I would have tried to stay loyal. I swear it."

Ned knew that he did. Though initially he had had his doubts about Robert's ability to stay faithful to his sister, he had not thought it impossible, esspecially with how in love his friend had been with Lyanna.

"Why did she chose him then?" Robert asked. "Why run off with him? He has a wife already, lawfully married. He had children with her, a trueborn heir already."

Ned could have told him that Lyanna was in love with the silver prince, that she had believed that their love would bend the world itself in order to accomodate them. From her letters, that seemed to be the prevailing idea. That Rhaegar and Lyanna's love was true and that the world should simply accept it.

"I don't know Robert." He said. "Lyanna has always been wilfull, but I would never have thought that this would happen."

Robert barked out a laugh.

"Who could have predicted this?" He asked, gesturing with his mug to the massive army that surrounded them. "By the gods Ned. A year ago I was holding Mya in my arms and you had your Dornish beauty in yours."

A pang shot through Ned's chest at the mere mention of Ashara, and suddenly the Tully flags flying overhead seemed less reassuring.

"Now we're to marry women we barely know, much less love, to bring men and weapons to our side in this war."

Ned turned to look at Robert.

"We?" He asked.

Robert nodded, leaning his head back and looking up at the stars.

"Aye. Jon Arryn called me after the battle. Apparently Tywin Lannister wants me to marry his daughter."

Ned shook his head.

"He already asked you?"

"He had to. If he hadn't then Hoster Tully would have demanded I marry his younger daughter." A smile formed over Robert's face and he laughed a bit.

"Ha! Wouldn't that be something? At least then we would be brothers."

Ned joined his friend as the two erupted into laughter.

"Think on it Ned. We could take the Tully name. Eddard and Robert Tully. What do you think?"

The two continued laughing.

"Aye Robert. What a day that would be."

Eventually their laughter died down though, leaving just two men. Two men, friends and brothers in all but blood, who now fought together for the very survival of themselves and their houses.

"Will you do it?" Robert asked.

"Do what?" Ned returned.

"Marry the Tully girl? I know what honour demands, but Ned... You love that woman, will you give that up just for men to fight and die with us?"

Honour demanded that he should, that he was commited to this match. However, there and then, seated beside his closest friend, a little drunk and still reeling from the battle he had survived, Ned let go.

"I wish I didn't have to Robert. I truly do. I want to get on a horse, ride as fast as I can to Starfall, and sweep her off her feet. I wanted to marry Robert. I very well might have, if Lyanna hadn't run off and Brandon hadn't died."

"I know Ned." Robert said, patting his shoulder.

"I love her Robert. I wish everyday to tell her that, that this isn't what I want. I need to tell her, but I can't."

"She knows Ned. I've seen you two together enough to know that."

"But will she when she hears that I've married another woman? I don't know what to do Robert."

Robert nodded solemnly, placing a hand on Ned's shoulder.

"Well, you know what I'd do Ned, but then again that's part of what got us into this mess. Other than that... I don't know. I truly don't know."

Some people have wondered about Ned and Cat's wedding and whether they would still end up together. Given Ned's code of honour and the fact that it's now well known that Lyanna ran off from a betrothal, not to mention the alliance, there's way to much at stake for him not to go through with it. I get that some people might be unhappy or don't like Catelyn but honestly, I'm at worst ambivalent to her and at best I like her well enough considering her situation. A bit of down to Earth -or Planetos- talk between Ned and Robert with some talk about love. I sometimes wonder what I want to do with Mya, given that Robert and Cersei's marriage shouldn't be as toxic as it was in canon. Still, there's always a chance at a drunk slip-up.

Longest chapter yet, but honestly I don't think the length will stick around, back to 3-4k instead of 5k that this one was at. It helps me write to make them smaller and turn them out to meet my self-imposed deadlines. I'm having a lot of fun with it and it's a good way to focus some creativity in a time of crisis and with the school year ending, the end of year grind at University is a pain in the ass.