Blood and Winter

Chapter III

The march south from the Wall had been long.

Jon's mind filled with questions as to what had happened down in the war and why he had been legitimised. Well, he knew why, his brother needed him. But he questioned as to why Robb needed him. The Greatjon had been quite vocal on how Robb had managed to outmanoeuvre Tywin Lannister and go on to capture the Kingslayer.

So, the question Jon asked was, why did Robb need him?

Jon had made it no secret that his entire life's ambition was to join the Night's Watch, it was said to be a great honour. He had hoped that by doing so he would not only make things easier on his family - Catelyn had also never hidden her distaste for him – and would be able to make something of himself up there. At Winterfell, he was just Ned Stark's bastard. At the Wall, he could have been something else.

Except that hadn't been the case, even at the Wall, he was still Ned Stark's bastard.

Arguably, he was more hated up at the Wall as well considering Alliser Thorne was there.

Yet here he was now, Jon Stark and Lord of Moat Cailin, marching south to join his brother, the King to defeat the Lannisters. That in turn raised more questions, why was his brother the King?

He asked as much to the Greatjon who chortled.

"Ye haven't seen the lad in charge, have ye?" The Greatjon asked and Jon shook his head, Robb had never really been given the chance with Ned around and when his father had gone south, Jon had gone north. "He's good at it. Put me in ma place I'll tell ye that."

Jon's eyes trailed down to where he could see a few fingers missing from Lord Umber's fingers. He'd heard that story on a number of occasions on the walk south to Breakstone Hill in the Northern Mountains where they were to meet with the gathered warriors from the Mountain clans of House Wull, House Burley, House Flint of the First Flints, House Harclay, House Knott, House Liddle, and House Norrey.

There were even warriors from the House Magnar, Stane and Crowl from the island of Skagos.

Overall, the total combined number of soldiers consisted of four thousand warriors of the various Mountain clans. A formidable force that would soon march south under his and the Greatjon's command to face the Lannisters.

"He's different to his father as well. A respected Ned, aye, but at times a thought him too soft. Wasn't raised in the North ye see, at times it looked like the Vale had rubbed off on him too much, but a respected the man. Would fight and follow him but wouldn't die for him. But a've seen that lad lead men into battle, seen him think of ways to beat his enemies and a saw a man that would finally give us Northern independence. Now there's a man a'll die for, a thought to myself."

Jon supposed he should have expected no less from the Greatjon. His father had spoken of him from time to time, he was a prideful, but loyal man. However, Ned had always said that the Greatjon had a great desire for independence ever since Robert's Rebellion.

'It seems now he's got what he wanted.' Jon thought, remaining quiet as they eventually came to the top of the hill and looked down at the men camped below. Temporarily his breath froze in his chest, his gaze looking upon the thousands of men camped below. He couldn't even see them all, many of the camps disappearing into the white, winter fog that settled over the north. But he could make out the sight of numerous fires burning in the distance, their orange glows easily spotted through the light mist.

"Don't freeze now, lad." Greatjon smacked his back, nearly unhorsing Jon as they started trotting down the hill.

A number of men moving forwards to meet them.

"The Greatjon…big bastard…finally arrived!" One man exclaimed angrily and for the life of him, Jon could barely understand a word of what he said. His northern accent was thick and his grasp of language itself seemed to be sparse.

"Shut yer fucking mouth, Big Bucket." The name was familiar to Jon, he'd never met the man but had heard of the head of House Wull, Lord Hugo "Big Bucket" Wull. He was a large rotund man, hence his nickname but he still looked strong. "Come on, lads, let's find a place out of this fucking wind."

With that, the group made their way through the army camp to the centre. Along the way, Jon learned the names of their new companions.

There was Donnel and Artos Flint of the First Flints.

Brandon Norrey and his companion and champion, Owen Norrey.

Lord Torren Liddle and his son, Morgan Liddle.

And a number of noblemen from each of the clans gathered.

It was hard to believe that he was been given command of four thousand men and expected to march to war. He hadn't been prepared for this yet, should he have expected anything less? Robb always liked to surprise him, and it seemed even as a King that tradition had not changed at all.

"So, how many men ye got?"

"Three thousand." Owen Norrey spoke, and Jon released a sigh of relief, it seemed that at least someone amongst these lot actually knew how to speak properly.

"The fuck? Ye was meant to have four. What the hell have ye been doing all this time?" Greatjon exclaimed angrily. "The King gave ye an order and this is what ye have to fucking show for yerselves."

"Not all here." Brandon Norrey shot back.

"No shit! What ye been doing all this time while we've been fighting a war, huh? Sucking each other's cock?"

"Don't worry, the men of Skagos aren't here yet, that should add another fifteen hundred men to our army," Owen informed, hoping to appease the irate Lord Umber and to avoid a fight breaking out between him and the Chiefs of the Mountain clans.

Greatjon looked at Owen closely and Jon feared he'd strike the Mountain clansman. But instead, the Greatjon threw his head back and laughed. "Why didn't ye say so in the first place?" He then reached around and slapped Torren Liddle on the back and the man stood firm, matching the Greatjon's slap with one of his own.

To be entirely honest, Jon wasn't convinced that the Greatjon wasn't a Mountain clansmen himself because the way the man acted made him fit right in. 'And me? I'm completely different. Again.'

"When will they be here," Jon asked, the gazes of all the men here turning on him quickly and Jon almost shrank away.

"Few days. Then march to free the Ned." Big Bucket said.

And that's when they heard a commotion outside. All those in the tent moving out to see a man trying to push past the guards stationed outside. "I have urgent news for Lord Umber! You have to let me pass, please!"

"Pleading won't help ye much, lad. Most won't understand a word yer saying." The Greatjon said, indicating for the two guards to let the man through. They did so with nary a grunt of discontent and the man rushed forwards, quickly dropping to his knees before Lord Umber and Jon. "What ye got to tell me that's so important?"

"The Greyjoys, they've invaded."

-X-

Again and again, Robb's eyes roved over the map, committing the distribution of troops, state of supplies and every minuscule detail to memory and then playing out scenarios in his mind. He tried to put himself in the mind of Tywin Lannister and tried to predict how the Old Lion would react depending on whatever move he made.

That was when the door to the war room opened and in-stepped Lord Mallister. The aged, but still handsome Lord of Seagard crossing the threshold of the room with slow steady steady strides. He then bowed low, one hand crossing over his chest.

"Your grace."

"Lord Mallister." Robb greeted tiredly, he had forced his men to ride through the night and most of the day to get from the Golden Tooth to Riverrun as soon as possible. He had then locked himself in the war room and had since spent every waking minute trying to figure out an answer for his current predicament. "I wasn't expecting you, how fares you're campaign in the Riverlands?"

"It is a success, your grace." Lord Mallister rose, resting both hands on the handle of his blade as he moved forwards. "Castle Darry opened its gates as soon as we arrived and I have since received ravens from Lord Hawick, Mooton and Wode recognising you as the King of the Riverlands and have even committed troops to your cause."

"How many?"

"In total, a thousand in all." Lord Mallister informed and while it was good news, Robb didn't smile. He'd found himself doing so less and less as the war dragged on.

"Very good, Lord Mallister. Your skill and deeds have not gone unnoticed, nor will they go unrewarded once this was war is finished with." Lord Mallister bowed his head. "You are still stationed at Darry, yes?"

"I am your grace. Nine thousand soldiers of the Riverland awaiting your orders." Lord Mallister didn't even hesitate, studying the map and correctly summarising why the young King looked so tired and haggard. "I received news of the Greyjoy invasion in the North, may I ask, what do you plan to do?"

"The Northmen at Golden Tooth and at the Fords have all sent envoys demanding we march back North and beat back the Ironborn. I have managed to quell their anger for now, but for how long I do not know. It all depends on how the Greatjon and my brother does up North." Robb muttered, Lord Mallister looking to his King in confusion.

"Am I correct in assuming that you…foresaw this as a possibility when sending the Greyjoy to treat with his father?"

Robb nodded his head. "Aye, I had my suspicions. Though I had never imagined that Theon would betray me, but it seems that he has done so. It is no matter, our reports from Lord Reed indicate that the Greyjoy have so far been probing our defences along the western shore."

Lord Mallister looked at where Robb indicated and he could see why the young King was worried. The Greyjoy's had already captured Deepwood Motte, and most of the western shore, Ironborn raiders even pushing inwards and claiming Flints Finger south of the Blazewaterbay and had even pushed in and claimed Moat Cailin, effectively cutting off of the North from the south. Their use of ships allowed for quick movement, and while lacking much in the way of military discipline, the Ironborn raiders were nonetheless, formidable warriors. Simple and brutal, but effective in fast-paced action.

There was some hope though, there seemed to be a host stationed at Breakstone Hill near the south of the Northern Mountains. Another in the Greywater Watch and another near Winterfell.

"How many men, do the enemy have, your grace?"

"In all, the Ironborn seem to be throwing practically everything have, young and old included. Our last reports indicated over twenty thousand. Though we are lucky that they are spread out all over their eastern shore."

"And the North?"

This is where Robb sighed. "No more than six thousand. Many of the keeps in the west have called in as many men at arms as they can and have shut their gates. Hunkering down for sieges no doubt, a smart plan but many of the eastern keeps who are untouched have decided to do the same. My brother is at Breakstone Hill with over four thousand men at his command. Rodrik Cassel has raised a force of just over a thousand men, though more seem to be joining him and Reed has barely five hundred men with him." Robb rubbed his brow for a moment as he finished off. "If those in the east would dispatch their forces, we would have a force numbering over ten thousand. But they are unmoving."

Lord Mallister frowned, the true weight of the situation dawning on him. It was certainly not as bad as it could have been, but the situation was grim nonetheless.

"Could I suggest something, your grace?"

Robb waved his hand, sitting down in the chair and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "By all means, Lord Mallister."

"You are King in the North and the Trident. You are bound by both blood and duty to protect both the North and the Riverland. The greatest strength of the Ironborn is their navy and their greatest advantage is the manoeuvrability it provides them."

Robb nodded his head having identified that as one of the greatest strengths of the Ironborn.

"However, they are not soldiers. They are raiders and reavers, they don't know how to fight in formations and they don't have the discipline needed to make them truly dangerous. When Balon Greyjoy's eldest son, Rodrick attempted to take Seagard in the Greyjoy Rebellion, they did not besiege it. They attacked it in full force despite not having the men needed to take it."

Lord Mallister smiled grimly remembering the Young Krakens foolish actions.

"The Ironborn believe that starving a city is a cowards way to fight. I imagine the reason they've had such devastating success so far is because of that reason. They've provided little time for your armies there to react. All the North needs to do is hold out, while it will initially be devastating and the Ironborn may seem unstoppable. Their style of fighting will eventually reach a limit and it will bring grave consequences upon them. The Iron Islands are not a prosperous place and their military is the smallest out of the Seven Kingdoms. With their tactics on sieges and in land battles, they will eventually exhaust all their manpower."

Robb glared at the man. "But not before raping and pillaging my lands and people."

"I know, your grace." Lord Mallister admitted and Robb's glare intensified. "But you cannot march North and free your lands. If you do, our advantages in the war will be lost. We have not lost a battle and while the invasion of the North has certainly damaged morale, it is still incredibly high and the legend of the Young Wolf, the King in the North only serves to increase it. Our front on the Fords keeps Tywin tied up just like it does for our own men, but with the Golden Tooth taken and our foothold in the Westerlands secured, we have put pressure onto the Old Lion."

Robb listened, his glare lessening slightly.

"Soon, Tywin Lannister will be forced to make a move. Whatever move he makes will be one he hopes will shift the tide of the war back into his favour. Marching North with a sizeable force will only weaken our other fronts. That will give Tywin all the opportunity he needs and he will seize it."

"So what do you propose?" Robb asked and Lord Mallister smiled.

"Just like the North came to aid of the Riverlands, let us return the favour." He took the figure denoting to his own host and positioned it next to Lord Reed's one. "I have nine thousand men, let me take some men North and help beat back the Ironborn."

Robb looked over the map, his mind whirling as he tried to play the scenario out in his mind. And as he did, a growing smile came onto his face, one that Lord Mallister noted.

"I apologise, Lord Mallister," Robb spoke in terms of his earlier actions. "It seems that I have been viewing the Ironborn as a standing military force, well-trained and disciplined like the Lannisters. I forgot that they're nothing but raiders."

"What is your plan?"

"Take four thousand men North, join with Lord Reed and contain the Ironborn on the western coast, also make it clear to the lords of the east that they are to follow your orders by my decree. One thousand shall also come with me to the Westerlands to join the camp, there I shall further the progress on that front. The remaining four thousand shall remain at Darry under the command of a man you trust, though I want you to move those men a few miles south, closer to Harrenhall."

As Robb spoke, Lord Mallister's eyes came alight as he began to understand the plan the Young Wolf had come up. And he approved wholeheartedly.

"I if may, perhaps we should move Lord Tytos Blackwood to take command of the forces at Darry. If I understand what your aim is, his defensive expertise will serve to be especially useful in that area. I would suggest then having either Ser Brynden or Lord Edmure take command of the northern flank while Lord Bracken takes command of the remaining area." Lord Mallister suggested, but Robb shook his head.

"I agree with your decision to move Lord Blackwood to Darry, his defensive expertise will be invaluable in that area. However, Ser Brynden and Lord Edmure need to remain where they are if my plans are to work."

"I understand, your grace. I am just wary of having Lord Bracken and Lord Blackwood in such a vital area. I would suggest someone else, but Lord Bracken is an excellent field commander." The Lord of Seagard murmured, frowning in thought.

"You speak of the long-standing feud between House Bracken and Blackwood." Lord Mallister nodded his head and Robb joined the man in frowning in thought. Eventually though, he shook his head. "They were both there when I was named King, correct?"

"Yes, I believe Lord Blackwood was one of the most vocal lords, your grace."

"Then tell them that they are to not let their feud interfere with their duties in the war. If it does, they will face a similar punishment to what awaits Walder Frey once the war is done." Lord Mallister bowed his head and twisted on his heel, heading to rest before leaving for his men on the morrow.

As one of his most trusted and capable commanders left, Robb leaned further back into his chair and let his eyes slowly close. Beside him, Grey Wind looked up upon listening to the soft snoring from his master.

Huffing, the Direwolf rose up and moved closer, resting down back on all fours but keeping his senses alert.

-X-

The march back from Storms End was a quiet one. No one had words to say and the suddenness of the events that followed had so thoroughly shocked them that no one could talk.

Catelyn didn't know how things had gone so bad, but perhaps that was the very nature of war. When arriving at Bitterbridge she had managed to negotiate a peace between her son and Renly. Then she had been invited to a feast in order to celebrate the union and Catelyn had reluctantly agreed. The future marriage between a child of Renly and a child of her son would secure the two kingdoms in the future.

But things quickly soured when Stannis had arrived in the Stormlands and had taken the seat of House Baratheon, Storms End. With the intention of seeing Stannis's military power to report to her son should he turn out to be an enemy and to also show that the Stark's and Baratheon were allied once more, Catelyn followed Renly.

Only for things to go horribly wrong the moment they arrived.

Renly and Stannis had met and parlayed. Yet Stannis had been unwilling to listen to reason and accept any form of compromise, even going so far as to threaten to execute Renly along with her and her son if they didn't recognise his rightful claim to the Iron Throne.

That night, when preparing for battle, everything changed.

Renly Baratheon had been killed.

No one knew how, the only one with the King at the time had been Brienne the Blue, a trusted member of his Rainbow Guard. Many had demanded her death, claiming she was the one who killed the King, but Catelyn had spoken in defence of the young woman, recognising the look of a woman who had lost someone she loved.

It was a feeling Catelyn felt whenever thinking of her husband and daughters. Despite the possibility of them being alive, with every passing day and no sign of them, Catelyn began to believe that they were truly dead. She didn't like it, didn't want to believe it, but everything said that they were.

Robb, she knew despite his best efforts was already beginning to accept the hard truth that they were more than likely dead. He had committed himself fully to the war and the thought of revenge ever since.

Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, many men had not been willing to listen to her pleas. Whether it was because they fully believed Brienne had killed Renly or because they wanted to prove their loyalty to Stannis, she didn't know. All she knew was that suddenly battle erupted between Renly's camp.

Those that quickly changed their loyalties and joined Stannis and those that believed Brienne when she claimed it was Stannis that killed him.

In the ensuing fighting, Catelyn and Brienne had been cornered by Lord Bryce Canon the Orange, Ser Guyard Morrigen the Green and Ser Parmen Crane the Purple along with numerous men from the Stormlands. Her northern guards were killed and just as it seemed all hope was lost, Ser Robar Royce the Red, Ser Emmon Coy the Yellow and a few loyal men burst in and helped the two escape.

There they had escaped, a small company of only ten men moving through the rich lands of the Reach and as far away from the Stormlands. Catleyn would have headed north to the Riverlands, but Ser Robar had pointed out that it was an obvious route and Stannis would have men watching the road.

Since then, the journey through the Stormlands and into the Reach had being quiet.

Catleyn herself looked to see the young woman who had saved her life at Storms End.

Brienne was all but despondent, her gaze resting on her horse, but never really acknowledging it was there. Her entire world had come crumbling around her and she was just moving on instinct alone. She made for a sorry sight, nothing like the strong, confident yet strangely insecure woman she had been before.

"We should make camp here tonight." Ser Emmon called, the group eventually bringing their horses to a halt.

As the men got to work setting up a camp, Catelyn watched the proceedings unfold. "My lady, are you unhurt?" Ser Robar asked, coming to her and Catelyn gave a small smile of thankfulness. Despite the long journey, Ser Robar had been attentive and chivalrous like any knight should be. But she also knew he had another reason for his kindness.

He had shown a special interest in her sons' campaign and Catelyn had no doubt that he would follow her and swear himself to her son. Saving her and being attentive was his way of earning the good favour of Robb.

Despite being a good man, Robar still had his own motives and ambitions.

"I am fine, thank you, Ser Robar." She said amicably, the man nodding his head and moving to check up on the rest of the men. While she was fine, they were not, many were killed in their attempts to get out of the camp, and those that had did not do so unscathed.

"It looked like Stannis," Brienne muttered from where she was tending the horses. It was quiet, the men around them too busy with their own tasks to take notice of what she said, but Catelyn had.

"To me, it just looked like…a shadow in the shape of a man." Catelyn had caught a glimpse of it upon entering the tent, so had Ser Robar and Emmon though they refused to believe what he had seen, deeming it a trick of the light. Catelyn wasn't so sure, she'd seen the connection her son shared with his Direwolf, watched him pray in the Godswood.

He seemed to see things and each time he came out more and more sure of himself as if he were becoming a different man. And the connection he shared with his Direwolf seemed to grow stronger. There were times she entered a room or the Godswood to speak with her son, finding him deep in prayer and so would be quiet as to not disturb him. Grey Wind the ever-loyal guard would notice her, his head raising and looking at her and seemingly, as if able to see what the Direwolf would see, Robb would turn to her.

It was strange and almost, unnatural.

Much like the shadow that killed Renly.

Perhaps Robar and Emmon were right, the shock of Renly's death and the unknowing of who killed him had caused them to see things that were not there. But she had to admit, there were strange things in this world that she could not explain.

"In the shape of Stannis!" Brienne argued.

Catleyn opened her mouth, trying to argue that Brienne couldn't say such things without proper proof. If she did, Brienne would be proclaimed a madwoman. "We should reach, Tumbleton tomorrow."

There was a pause, Brienne stumped by the sudden change of the conversation, but she eventually responded.

"Will we be staying there long, my lady?" Catelyn shook her head at Brienne's question. She didn't plan to stay long, here or at Tumbleton, she needed to return to her son's side. "Will you tell him the truth?"

"I will tell him what I believe to be true," Catelyn replied firmly, but she was unsure of what she believed to be true. "After that, I will leave for Winterfell."

The news that the North had come under attack from the Ironborn was a shock, but her worry and desire to see her sons, Bran and Rickon forced her to make the difficult decision of leaving her eldest. But she was sure he would be safe; he was surrounded by experienced and loyal bannermen.

"My two youngest need me, I've been away from them far too long."

"I never knew my mother," Brienne noted with a tinge of sadness in her tone.

"I'm sorry. My own mother died on the birthing bed when I was very young." Catelyn's voice cracked with emotion.

"It's a bloody business."

"What comes after is even harder."

Brienne paused.

"Once you are safely back amongst your own people. Will you give me leave to go, my lady?" Brienne asked, she having stuck by the side of Lady Stark in order to protect her. She had sworn to herself that she would make sure Lady Stark got to safety and she intended to keep that promise, but Brienne also had her own desires.

"You mean to kill Stannis." It was not a question; Catelyn knew exactly what Brienne desired more than anything.

"I swore a vow," Brienne responded firmly.

Catelyn thought it was admirable but foolish. "But Stannis has a great army around him. His own guards are sworn to keep him safe."

"I'm as good as any of them." And at that moment, Brienne said the very thing that had always been on her mind. "I should never have fled."

"Renly's death was no fault of yours. You've served him bravely."

"I only held him that once, as he was dying." Brienne's heart tore apart as she remembered holding the body of the man she loved.

Catleyn shot to her feet, unwilling to let such an admirable and strong woman die. "He's gone, Brienne. You serve nothing and no one by following him into the earth. Renly's enemies are Robb's enemies as well." And that was the crux of the matter, with her going North and Robb staying south, despite being surrounded by loyal men, she still worried for him as any mother would.

She had seen Brienne fight; she was a strong and skilled woman. Catelyn would feel much better and worry far less if she could convince Brienne to stay by Robb's side and protect him.

At the end of the day, she was no different to men like Robar Royce who helped people for their own gain. But this was war and Catelyn had already lost a husband and two daughters, she would not lose anyone else.

Brienne became straight-faced, her eyes studying Lady Stark's, understanding come to her eyes. "I do not know your son, my lady." Catelyn frowned, sitting back down on the log she had used as a seat. "But I could serve you! If you would have me?" Brienne boldly claimed, the action gaining the attention of the others in their camp who looked on.

Catleyn looked at her in a new light at that moment.

"You have courage. Not battle courage perhaps. But I don't know, a woman's kind of courage and I think when the time comes, you will not hold me back. Promise me that you will not hold me back from Stannis." She pleaded and Catelyn remained silent.

The two women stared into one another's eyes, trying to understand the true depths of one another's character as they did.

It was Catelyn that spoke next.

"When the time comes, I will not hold you back." At that declaration, Brienne unsheathed her sword, dropping to one knee and presenting the blade to Catelyn.

"Then I am yours, my lady. I will shield your back and give my life for yours if it comes to that. I swear it by the Old Gods and new." Catleyn gave a slight nod of her head and instead of taking the sword, took Brienne's hand.

"I vow that you shall always have a place in my home and at my table and that I shall ask no service of you that might bring you dishonour. I swear it by the Old Gods and the new." Catelyn vowed herself.

-X-

"Ye ready, lad?" The Greatjon asked, looking down at the young Lord Stark who gripped the handle of his Valyrian steel blade anxiously. It was not surprising, he was young and about to enter his first battle, even so, Robb had named him the commander of the forces. Greatjon could understand why having a Stark lead the men in defence of the North would certainly boost morale.

But he didn't think Jon was ready yet.

He had skill as a swordsman, more so than most in the army gathered. But he didn't know how to lead men, didn't know how to take command, or give orders. Understandable really, he was a bastard intent on joining the Night's Watch, learning to lead had never really been something he would have been taught.

Even so, it was better late than never.

"Aye, Lord Umber. I'm ready." Jon muttered, his eyes flickering across the old motte-and-bailey castle, his gaze looking upon the wooden palisades that surrounded it.

The estimated strength of the enemy was around a thousand men, Jon had come with twice that number, the remaining two thousand men marching south to meet with the fifteen hundred strong host commanded by Rodrik Cassel at Winterfell. Even so, despite outnumbering the enemy he was wary.

This was his first battle and according to the Greatjon, this battle would be a decisive victory. If they won here, they could reinvigorate northern morale and force those houses on the eastern shore to provide aid. Failure here could very well mean that they lose the North itself.

'No pressure.' He thought sardonically, looking behind him at the army gathered. He hadn't bothered with a horse, he was never really skilled at fighting on them, no that honour went to Robb. Jon was very much an infantryman, preferring to fight on his own two feet and had rarely lost a fight against Robb or Theon.

"Give the order, lad," Greatjon muttered, his eyes picking up movement from the Deepwood Motte indicating that the Ironborn had decided to prepare for battle instead of fleeing. It wasn't unsurprising and was something that many had wanted the Ironborn to do. Not only did it give them a chance to get revenge, but it also meant that they could weaken the Ironborns overall force.

"Charge!" Jon shouted and rushed forwards, gripping the shield he had been given in one hand tightly. Around him, those that heard his cry rushed forwards with a battle cry, but it was the Greatjon who was the loudest.

"Kill the Ironborn fuckers!"

All two thousand men from the north rushed forwards raising their shields when they heard the whistling of arrows. The Ironborn didn't have much in the way of archers, but those that they did have fired, no more than maybe a hundred descended upon them. Many were blocked by shields or missed, but some struck.

Men dropped to the ground with cries, but many from the Mountain clans just kept on charging even with arrows sticking out from their shoulders.

As they closed in on the wooden gate that was meant to keep them out, they saw it practically broken in. While the Ironborn had attempted to repair it, the damage done from their own assault on Deepwood Motte had weakened the structure of the castle as a whole.

"Hold here!" Greatjon ordered, the northern army coming to a stop, dropping to their knees and raising their shields to protect themselves from arrows. They could hear the jeering and insults from the Ironborn, but many ignored it. "Bring the bridge, let's take this castle by the morrow!"

The northern army cheered as a group of men carrying a bridge made from wood rushed across the field.

The Ironborn of course, turned their attention throwing rocks and firing arrows at the men carrying it. Many died, but for every Northman that died, someone was there, ready to take his place. In a matter of moments, the bridge had been placed down and pushed across the motte and rested against the partially destroyed gate.

"Bring down the gate!" Jon ordered and in response to his orders, men with axes and hammers rushed forwards and slammed into the gate, hacking, and hammering away at the broken wood.

It was not an easy task, the Ironborn thrusting spears and swords through the gaps in the wood and killing those battering away at it. But much like before, it was not enough, the gate eventually being brought down and with a cheer, the northern army poured in through the gates.

It had all been so quick and fast that the Ironborn were temporarily caught off guard. But they rallied quickly and rushed to meet the northern army.

Jon quickly found himself in the mess that was a battle. His head whipped around each and every way as he watched the men of the North and Iron Islands clash in a bloody battle. Hearing a cry, he turned to see an Ironborn clutching an axe rushing towards him.

However, Ghost was there leaping through the air and biting down on the man's head who cried out in pain. The Direwolf chomped down hard the cries silencing before it bounded off in search of its next kill.

Jon barely had time to come to terms with what he saw before he was stuck in combat with an Ironborn warrior. Longclaw cutting through the air at great speeds as he parried the wild sword swings with his own masterful and well-trained swipes. Eventually, the man overextended, and Jon stepped forward grabbing the back of the man's neck and bringing the Ironborn towards him as he drove his blade into the man's stomach.

Pulling his blade free he turned around and slashed at the man behind him before once again looking around.

The battle was still raging on, he could see the Greatjon laughing madly as he swung his greatsword in big sweeping swings that cut through men with ease. The Mountain clans and the berserkers rushed around, releasing howls like a wolf as they killed the Ironborn and Ghost bounded across the floor leaving a trail of dead bodies in his wake.

But despite this, the Ironborn were returning it just as well. For every Ironborn that fell a Northman fell as well.

Even with no real structure or discipline, they did not surrender. He could see some Ironborn being stabbed and still swinging until their bodies gave out on them.

It was madness.

"Push forwards!" He heard Owen Norrey cry as he and his men broke through the Ironborn line on the left finally twisting the tides of the battle. As determined as the Ironborn were, the men of the North were just as determined, and they had far more men than them.

"On me, we must break through the centre!" Jon cried, raising his sword as he rushed forwards. Around him, the Northmen rallied, spurred on by the victory on the left they followed after Jon as they smashed into the Ironborn defensive line once more.

And the battle continued with no signs of stopping anytime soon.

-X-

Urging his horse on quicker, Robb burst in through the open gates of Ashemark leading the cavalry charge from the front into the scrambling Lannister defence. His horse struck the disorganised defence and flung men to the side as his blade swung around and killed a man.

Behind him, the rest of the cavalry also struck the Lannister defence and cut through them with ease.

"The King in the North!" Smalljon cried from where he stood by the open gate, having cut his way through the men on the walls and opened the gate. And with this, as his men poured through the gates and the Lannister defence crumbled, the two weeklong siege of Ashemark came to an end.

Bringing his horse to a halt, Robb looked upon it as his men rushed past to fully secure the city. He'd already firmly ordered the fair treatment of the Smallfolk and the men he executed at the Golden Tooth for raping women in that siege stood was a firm reminder of his orders.

Robb understood that war was a bloody and dirty business and that the Smallfolk were the unfortunate bystanders caught in the middle of it. They suffered the most and Robb wanted to ensure that he could at least lessen that suffering as much as he could. Plus, it helped his conquest of the Westerlands that much better as the Smallfolk would be more accepting of his presence.

"Lord Bolton, secure the Keep and Lord Marbrands family." Robb doubted they would still be here, no doubt having been evacuated to Lannisport as soon as the northern army arrived, but he couldn't be sure. "Lord Karstark, round up those that surrendered." The man gruffly nodded his head. While the loss of his son, Torrhen had been difficult, Rickard was grateful for the fact that Robb had saved Eddard's life.

That was a debt the Lord of Karhold could not repay easily, but one he would endeavour to do so.

With the orders given, Robb urged his horse on followed by his personal guard, taking note of the way his men acted. As he had expected, the orders he had given were mostly followed, but some it seemed, having gotten lost in the moment, had disregarded his orders.

With a nod of his head to Lord Marq Piper, the man took some men and arrested those responsible, even scouring the city for any that had disobeyed Robb's orders. At the same time, Robb continued on to the Great Hall where the door was guarded by Bolton men who opened the door for him.

Entering inside he saw the commander of the Lannister forces, Damon Marbrand, Lord of Ashemark. Robb took note of the scuffed armour and bloody sword in his hand. It seemed that the man had fought in the battle to defend his keep, admirable.

Walking past the man, Robb nodded his head to Lord Bolton who bowed in turn before taking a seat that would act as a temporary throne. He then gazed upon the captured soldiers. All of them, officers that had attempted to escape the city upon realising it had been lost.

"You have lost, Lord Marbrand," Robb said simply, the old Lord staring up at Robb imperiously. "I gave you and yours a chance to surrender, but you refused. You understand the consequences of that, do you not?"

Damon said nothing, refusing to speak to the Stark King.

"My lord, please spare us." But the officers around him did not share the same pride as the Lord of Ashemark, each of them begging for their lives to be spared.

"Lord?" Smalljon muttered as he entered the room, his large booming voice causing the captured Lannisters that were begging to jump in fright. "He's a King!" Quickly the men bowed in apology, rectifying their mistake as Smalljon crossed the room in big strides and stood beside Robb.

"For your refusal to surrender, you will be executed." There were a few fearful cries, but Damon remained resolute in not showing his fear, which was tested when Grey Wind entered the room. The large beast moved across the room in slow measured steps, its furs matted with blood and bits of flesh still stuck in its teeth.

However, Robb did not let this opportunity of silence go.

Taking the sword presented to him by Olyvar, Robb moved down the steps. 'The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.' Robb thought firmly, gazing upon the cowering Lannisters, his eyes passing over the fearless Damon.

The northern soldiers behind the Lannisters moved forwards, pushing them down and holding them in place. Raising his blade into the air, Robb ignored the cries and pleas for mercy and with a deep breath, swung the blade down decapitating the man.

Six times Robb swung his sword, and each time a head rolled along the floor.

Eventually, he came to Damon. "Get on with it then, boy." The man said, already lowering his body and presenting his neck.

Robb paused for a moment, then nodded his head to the door. The two guards by the door moved forwards, picking up Lord Marbrand and dragging him out of the room. Robb wouldn't execute lords, that would send the wrong message to everyone in the Seven Kingdoms. No, it was expected that captured lords were treated with some measure of respect.

That didn't mean he couldn't make them believe he would kill them.

-X-

Warily, Brienne kept a tight grip on the handle of her blade as she rode beside Lady Stark. Her eyes panning over the various Tyrell soldiers, led by Ser Garlan the Galant who had found them nought but a few hours ago. She was extremely untrusting of them, especially considering their decision of suddenly deciding to stop supporting Renly early on in the war.

However, Lady Stark had been willing to believe in Ser Garlan's words and followed them. No doubt in order to try and convince them to join her son's side, eighty thousand men plus the riches of the Reach would give Robb the overwhelming advantage in the war.

The Lannisters would be done for in the face of such an alliance.

Brienne doubted it would work.

They had already backed out of their arrangement to follow Renly despite Lord Tyrell's daughter being engaged to the young King. They had called off the arrangement and stopped their support of Renly, only allowing him to camp at Bitterbridge and starve Kings Landing.

A partly offer of aid, enough that Renly couldn't refuse and would still be indebted to them, without the Reach having to fully commit to the war.

Even so, Brienne was sworn to protect Lady Stark and if it meant marching into the middle of enemy territory to do it, she would. Besides, she wasn't alone. Ser Robar Royce and what remained of his men from the Vale that had joined Renly had expressed their desires to fight for Robb Stark.

They'd need to protect the King's mother in order to do so. After all, what King would allow warriors that allowed his mother to be harmed to fight for him?

"You must be proud of your son, Lady Stark," Garlan said, slowing his horse to ride beside them. "I admit, he surprised many of us with how masterfully he has conducted himself, despite his age. Many had imagined he would be beaten early on."

"My son is full of surprises," Catelyn admitted, keeping her face straight as to not give away anything.

"Indeed." Garlan agreed with a nod of his head. "Are you aware that he legitimised your late husbands bastard? He is now leading a host in the North to fight against the Greyjoy's." There was a momentary twist in Catelyn's face, the first flash of anger that Brienne had ever seen from the usually kind if not distant woman.

"No, I did not know that," Catelyn answered sourly.

Garlan could understand why, not many highborn women north of Dorne liked their husband's bastards as it was a constant reminder of their unfaithfulness. Highborn women liked it even less when said bastards were legitimised.

Yet, from a purely tactical standpoint, the Young Wolf's decision to legitimise his brother was an excellent one. His army had never lost a battle, even the Battle of the Green Fork which had seen the northern army retreat back north was seen as a victory for the Northmen. This meant that their morale was incredibly high and the constant string of victories that followed only served to bolster that.

The Greyjoy Invasion had no doubt damaged that morale and would continue to demoralise the soldiers from the North the longer the Ironborn went unchecked. This in turn would have a domino-like effect, even weakening the morale of the men from the Riverland.

But it seemed, either by the favour of the Gods or because the King in the North had foreseen the Greyjoy's Invasion – Garlan wouldn't put it past the young King to have done so considering his current track record – a large host of four thousand men was there to meet the invaders. Legitimising his bastard brother and giving him the name Stark would only further boost morale. There would not only be a Stark beating back the Lannisters in the south but a Stark defending the North from the Ironborn.

Garlan would admit, he was impressed.

After news of Eddard Stark's and his daughters escape from Kings Landing there had been questions as to the truth of the letter. His father, Mace had refused to believe it was true and decided to go ahead with his plan to marry Margaery to Renly and secure the Iron Throne.

Olenna had other ideas, using her considerable influence to force the houses of the Reach to withdraw their support to Renly and instead remain neutral. They had then adopted a wait and see approach, or his grandmother and brothers Willas had. His brother, Loras had raged and his father had sulked. All the while both Willas and Olenna studied the various leaders in the war to see which was most useful.

Mace of course had been furious initially, then upon realising he would not get his way, he sulked. Well, not actually sulk as that was unbefitting of a lord, but it was close to it. But at the end of the day, despite being Lord Paramount of the Mander and Warden of the South, the true ruler of the Reach was actually Olenna Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns.

Since then Garlan had learned that both his grandmother and brother were leaning towards an alliance with the Stark's. It was the most suitable choice, Stannis was apparently burning his followers alive as sacrifices to his new God. The other meant allying with their longtime political rivals, the Lannisters, who also happened to be losing the war against the Stark's,

And then there was the Stark's themselves. Led by a reportedly charismatic, skilful warrior King in the Young Wolf. The crowing of Robb Stark was shocking, but it also opened more opportunities to them if they allied with the Stark's.

But still, despite leaning towards an alliance with them, Olenna had still hesitated on fully committing just yet. It was just as well when the Greyjoy's invaded the North many had thought this the beginning of the end for Robb Stark. It was an obvious conclusion to come to, after all, Robb Stark didn't have any men in the south to spare. If he did march north, he'd be spreading his forces too thin and for Tywin Lannister, it would be a simple task to finish the Young Wolf off.

Then, Robb had revealed that he had another, albeit small host of four thousand men waiting in the North.

The war, despite popular belief for many, was not over for the Starks just yet.

And right now was the time to make a decision. Join Robb Stark and open up the path to the throne for a new King to ascend or not. Considering the Starks were the only ones that didn't have a bad relationship with their family it was a very simple choice to make.

As they reached the top of the hill on a well-trodden path they looked down upon the bustling and beautiful castle of Highgarden.

Catelyn would admit that it was beautiful, but her eyes were not focused on the castle.

No, they were instead focused on the large army camped outside.

-X-

Olenna sat comfortably in her chair, once again looking down upon the beautiful castle of Highgarden as she did most days. The castle was unusually active what with the soldiers and gathered lords arriving with every passing day.

The decision to ally with the Starks had been agreed upon mere days ago, but luckily, many of the lords of the Reach had yet to have returned their own lands after they stopped supporting Renly. Many had imagined that they would change their decision soon and so had not left, others had simply stayed because of those that stayed behind.

It was a good thing really, with this they could make a good impression upon their new ally, the Starks. Especially with Lady Catelyn now on her way here being led by her grandson, Garlan.

The sight of the army, only a few thousand – a fraction of the true might they could muster – would impress upon Lady Stark that the Reach was a valuable ally and a terrible enemy to have. Though she would have to be careful, as honourable as the Starks were, they were also prideful.

Just like every other lord from the North.

They could be counted to give just rewards to those that have earned them, but they would also not give in too much to demands from their allies.

Ensuring a good balance.

Olenna would just have to ensure that House Tyrell did enough to deserve the rewards they needed. The first was ensuring that Robb Stark would take the Iron Throne. As rich and as powerful as he would be with just the North, Riverlands and Reach, it was not enough. Not for them.

Her eyes panned across the room, passing over her son, Mace, and her grandson, Willas to land on her dutiful granddaughter, Margaery Tyrell. A beautiful girl with an intelligent mind to boot. It would be her job to ensure House Tyrell's rise amongst the new King's court. Marriage was a possibility, but once again, the Northern Lords would not accept another marriage south without proper reason. As much as Olenna knew that the Reach would be helpful, she also knew that Robb Stark would always choose the North first, then the Riverlands and then the Reach.

Loyalty was rewarded with loyalty, and the North and Riverlands had been nothing but loyal. No, marriage would have to wait, till they had proven themselves invaluable.

Hearing the clinking of armour outside, the group inside patiently watched as the door opened and in stepped Garlan followed by three others. "Father, may I introduce Lady Catelyn Stark and her two guards, Ser Brienne of Tarth and Ser Robar Royce of Runestone." There was a momentary look of interest as they looked upon the two people in question.

Brienne as a woman drew a few curious gazes but was entirely dismissed soon after. Robar Royce on the other hand attracted far more attention, they remembered full well that he had served in Renly's Kingsguard, or Rainbow Guard as he had fancifully called it.

To see him beside Catelyn was a curious sight indeed.

"Welcome, Lady Stark, please have a seat." Lord Mace pompously spoke, a large welcoming smile on his face, one that Catelyn only returned with a small courteous upturn of her lips. It wasn't something that could be called a smile, but it was at least an attempt at one. Olenna imagined that it was due to the uncertain fate of her husband and daughters as well as the fact her son was fighting in a war.

"Thank you, Lord Tyrell." Catelyn's voice was equally as courteous as she took a seat, both Ser Robar and Brienne standing behind her.

"We heard that you were there, at Storms End, do you know who killed Renly?" News of his death had quickly spread across the realm much to the shock and horror of many. Despite his many faults, Renly was beloved by many.

Catelyn paused in answering.

As she watched Lady Stark struggle to answer, Olenna hid her growing smile by sipping on a glass of wine. Skilled she maybe at not revealing anything through body language, but Lady Starks eyes were so active and so very easy to read.

"We do not know; I find myself hard-pressed to explain what I saw," Catelyn answered reluctantly. "When I entered Renly's tent, I saw what seemed to be a shadowy mist in the shape of a man. But I believe this was my eyes playing tricks on me, the shock of the entire event and the stress of the war getting to me. But I do believe that the person behind the killing was Stannis." Catelyn admitted, but both her guards tensed and while Ser Robar nodded his head slightly, Brienne looked like she had swallowed something particularly sour.

As this went on, Olenna took it all in and made sure to take notes. There was obviously something more to this story than what they had been told, but whatever it was seemed to still be disputed by them. No doubt the so-called, shadowy mist in the shape of man, understandable, it sounded absurd.

"That's horrible." Margaery gasped, and Olenna once again had to stifle the smile on her face. She had trained the girl well, even Lady Stark by the look on her face was fooled into believing her favourite grandchild was no different to any other highborn daughter with nothing between their ears. Just the way they wanted it, so long as Margaery was believed to be a simple airhead, the more it worked in their favour.

"It truly is." Mace concurred. "But we are happy to see that you escaped unharmed, my lady."

Lady Stark frowned, noting the overly friendly way in which Mace was acting. It was obvious to her he had ulterior motives and no doubt they were to do with her son.

"Your concern is greatly appreciated, Lord Tyrell. Though I would like to return to my son soon." There was a not-so-subtle hint there to stop playing games and get right to the crux of why she was all but summoned here. Olenna couldn't help but nod her head in agreement, as much as she did like word games, she equally liked to get right down to business.

It was Willas who took charge of the conversation from here, Olenna wouldn't trust her son with such a delicate task. He was a buffoon and an oaf who would more than likely give away the Reach without getting anything in return. "Your son has admittedly surprised many with his actions in the Riverlands. He has, as of now secured the entirety of the Riverlands except for Harrenhall and its surrounding lands. Is keeping Tywin Lannister well-occupied and defended and has since secured a foothold in the Westerlands."

The list of the accomplishments was no small feat and a testament to the Young Wolf's talents. But Olenna knew that if the boy King were anything like his father, his greatest weakness would be in politics. Even Lady Stark, for all her pretences of being in control, was a very poor politician, she didn't have the mentality for it.

That meant there was a weakness to be exploited, both for the Tyrells and his enemies. But House Tyrell wouldn't need to exploit it, instead, they could help provide the Young Wolf with a shield to protect him from attacks in that area.

It would prove to make them more invaluable than their soldiers, agricultural and monetary wealth could be. Not that they weren't also incredibly valuable.

"He has since been besieging both Ashemark and Hornsvale. If he secures those two castles, he will have a very secure foothold in the Westerlands, one that will be difficult for the Lannisters to remove. And while in the North, the Greyjoy's have already secured most of the western shore, Lord Jon Stark of Moat Cailin has since retaken Deepwood Motte and was seen sending reinforcements to Mormont Keep and marching south into the Wolfswood."

Catelyn's face twitched at the mention of Ned Starks newly legitimised bastard. Twisting into a slight look of anger before it quickly disappeared.

"With the way things are going, your son will need support." A lie, well, not a complete lie. Both Willas and Garlan had agreed that even without their help, Robb Stark had a very strong chance of victory, it would just be a very long, difficult and bloody road. However, Lady Stark wasn't as politically astute as she thinks, something they planned to take advantage of.

"And you are offering your support?" Catleyn asked dubiously. "From what I'm aware you promised to support Renly, but then quickly rescinded that support not a day later."

Mace winced and the other Tyrell's went still. It was no lie that what they had done reflected badly upon their house, it was one reason Olenna silently cursed Mace's foolish decision. It was a good idea, but poorly executed and had, as a result, backfired on them. Just like many of her son's ideas.

"Yes, well we do apologise on that account," Mace said, a flush of embarrassment coming onto his cheeks at Catelyn's cutting words. "However, decisions were made too quickly and without proper consideration. But we have had time to think and consider our options more wisely."

Olenna could admit that despite being an oaf, Mace was gifted with a silver tongue. He had a way with words that almost made her believe he really was her son, almost.

"And you chose my son?"

"We do," Willas stated firmly. "It's a choice between the supposedly Mad King incarnate, Joffrey Baratheon who if the rumours are to be believed, is a product of incest between the Queen and the Kingslayer. Or Stannis who holds no love for the Tyrells due to our actions in Robert's Rebellion and again, if the rumours are also true, is a man who burns people as sacrifices to his new god."

"They are true," Catelyn spoke up, stopping Willas from carrying on and her words caused a ripple of shock between the Tyrells, even Olenna paused in what she was doing. "I was there when Stannis and Renly parlayed, he threatened that if both my son and Renly didn't bend the knee and recognise him as the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms and renounce the Old Gods and the new, he would burn us alive as sacrifices."

Willas didn't even pause.

"Well, it makes our decision all the better. The Starks are honourable, that is well known and out of the Kings in the world, Robb Stark is the only one that is worthy to be King."

"My son has no desire to be King of Westeros. He only fights for revenge and for the independence of the North and Riverlands."

Olenna thought this was a foolish belief to have. Robb had made enemies of all three remaining Kings and he would have to defend himself against said kings. Either the Young Wolf will die, or his enemies will, and House Tyrell would ensure it was the Stark King who remained standing at the end.

When that happened, Robb Stark would be the only recognised King left. If he didn't take the Iron Throne a vacuum would be left behind in which every power-hungry fool would attempt to seize power, thousands more would die.

The Starks were an honourable bunch, purely to ensure that a situation like that would not happen, Robb would take the Iron Throne. And if he was still unwilling to do so, then Olenna was sure that doe eyes, a pair of tits and a beautiful smile would be able to change that quite easily.

After all, Robb Stark was still a man.

"Nonetheless, your son will need allies to ensure he wins the war, and we wish to ally ourselves with a man who will not burn us alive as a sacrifice nor will we have to worry he will kill us at any moment on a whim." Willas continued.

And Catleyn sat there silently, unable to answer properly.

So, another chapter done and with it the Tyrells ally with Robb, Jon marches south to join Robb and his campaign though is forced to fight in against the Ironborn and Robb furthers his campaign into the Westerlands.

Also, I think I should clear up the army layouts so far, to avoid any confusion.

Robb Stark's Army:

- Pre-Siege of the Twins:

- 20,000 men of the North.

- Post-Siege of the Twins:

- 20,000 men of the North.

- 4,000 men of the Frey's.

- Post-Battle of the Camps:

- 19,500 men of the North.

- 6,000 men of the Riverlands.

- Post-Siege of Ashemark:

- 3,000 men of the North (King Robb Stark – Westerlands/Ashemark).

- 3,000 men of the North (Lady Maege Mormont – Westerlands/Hornvale).

- 5,000 men of the North (Lord Edmure Tully – Riverlands/Stoney Steps).

- 6,000 men of the North (Ser Brynden Blackfish – Riverlands/Acron Hall).

- 2,000 men of the North, 4,000 men of the Riverlands (Lord Tytos Blackwood – Riverland/Lychester).

- 9,000 men of the Riverlands (Lord Jason Mallister – Riverland/Darry).

- 500 men of the North (Lord Howland Reed – North/Greywater Watch).

- 4,000 men of the North (Lord Jon Stark – North/Breakstone Hill).

- 1,500 men of the North (Ser Rodrik Cassel – North/Winterfell).

Lannister Army:

- Invasion of the Riverlands:

- 20,000 men of the Westerlands (Tywin Lannister – Riverland/Ruby Ford).

- 15,000 men of the Westerlands (Jamie Lannister – Riverland/Riverrun).

- Post-Battle of the Camps:

- 20,000 men of the Westerlands (Tywin Lannister – Riverland/Harrenhall).

- 10,000 men of the Westerlands (Ser Stafford Lannister – Westerland/Oxcross).

- Post-Siege of Ashemark:

- 20,000 men of the Westerlands (Tywin Lannister – Riverland/Harrenhall).

Renly's Army:

- Pre-Siege of Storms End:

- 30,000 men of the Stormlands (King Renly Baratheon – Reach/Bitterbridge).

Stannis's Army:

- Pre-Siege of Storms End:

- 5,000 men of the Crownlands (King Stannis Baratheon – Stormlands/Storm Ends).

- Post-Siege of Storms End:

- 5,000 men of the Crownlands (King Stannis Baratheon – Stormlands/Storm Ends).

- 25,000 men of the Stormlands (King Stannis Baratheon – Stormlands/Storm Ends).

Greyjoy Army:

- Invasion of the North:

- 1,000 men of the Iron Islands, 30 Longships (Asha Greyjoy – North/Deepwood Motte).

- 2,500 men of the Iron Islands, 80 Longships (Aeron Greyjoy – North/Stony Shores).

- 16,500 men of the Iron Islands, 165 Longships (Victarion Greyjoy – North/Moat Cailin).

Now for your questions:

Time Parad0x: I'm sorry you think that, but you need to understand something, Robb when he marches south, is fifteen. By the time he sends Theon off, he is sixteen. He is a young kid still and teenagers make mistakes. Now, that's not the only reason. Visions are not entirely clear in what they mean, Robb's vision do not say who the Kraken is that betrayed Robb. In his mind, he hoped that Theon didn't betray him and that it was just Balon that did. His friendship with Theon clouded his judgement, just like it has been shown in the books that Robb can be blinded by certain things.

Second, Lord Bolton is one of the smartest men in the North. And there is another reason Robb gave Lord Bolton command that will be revealed later. But like I said, neither Roose or Walder have done anything that he could use against them. Roose still hasn't while Walder let his greed blind him, Robb can't just go round executing people without proof unless he wants to be called a tyrant.

Crannogmen, again, how they Infiltrated the Twins won't be revealed just yet, but it will be explained in the future.

Again, I'm sorry you feel the way you do. But it's only chapter 2 and Robb is still a young and relatively inexperienced kid, he's going to make mistakes. This isn't an OP Robb that steamrolls over his enemies like a lot of fics out there. He'll struggle and he'll make stupid mistakes because he is still a kid at the end of the day.

TheOnlyKing: Give it time, Robb is a kid and still inexperienced. He's facing the true reality of war and for an adult that is a horrifying thing. Robb's only sixteen so imagine how hard that is on him, but we will see a more ruthless Robb later on when things really start to go into the deep end. Just like in ASOIAF the later book delve into more of the fantasy elements of the story and in the later chapters of this story, we'll be doing the same.

miguelgiuliano. co: Its leaning towards a Robb/Margaery pairing, but it's going to take time to get to that point.