Blood and Winter

Chapter VI

PLEASE READ THIS, ITS IMPORTANT!

So, a lot of you have taken the time to write a review pointing out 'plot holes.' Now I use that term lightly because many of these so called 'plot holes' are actually plot lines that are going to be explored and developed as the story continues. The only real plot hole that I can agree with is the Ironborn problem.

And by that I mean they're more powerful than they are in canon. That's true and I do apologise on that, but I won't be changing what's happened so far though I will take more care in the future. But as for every other problem that you've point out, they're not problems with my writing style, it's just that you haven't given me time to properly flesh out the story more.

Let me put this into perspective for you, in six chapters I have introduced the changes but also started to introduce things that have not changed as well. I've also started to delve into how the war is changing Robb and Jon. But, you want me to not only do all that but then give you all the answers as to why things have taken place and also resolve every problem the Starks are facing.

All in 6 chapters.

Now I'll stress that once more, 6 chapters.

I can't be the only one that's sees the lack of logic in that. The 'plot holes' you've pointed out are in fact, not problems with my lack of understanding or writing. It's just that I'm still developing the story and unfolding answers slowly overtime. So far, there are subtle answers and hints as to why certain characters have made certain decisions, if you have knowledge on the characters of ASOIAF (not GoT) then you might be able to piece together why certain things have been done.

All I'm asking is a little patience, I don't think it's too much to ask, is it? I mean I reiterate, you've given me 6 chapters to introduce the changes explore said changes and then resolve them. That's just ridiculous and while I could do it, I guarantee you that the story will be incredibly shit.

Now, I will be answering your reviews down below as usual, but I if like I said you've put in a complaint about a story choice when in fact, it's just not been given time to develop, I will say so. In which case, if you still want the answers then PM and I will explain the reasoning behind my decisions. If you don't PM then I will assume that you're simply choosing to wait.

I'm fully willing to listen to criticism, but you can't criticise a piece of work on the story choices the writer has made when you've given them practically no time to properly explore their work. That's like asking someone to cook you a meal, but not even allowing them to cook it. Do you understand what I'm saying?

-X- Line Break -X-

The castle of Sarsfield had been filled with hushed whispering recently. Rumours spoke of something terrible happening in the North though the exact specifications of what happened were unknown.

All anyone knew was that the King was furious.

Margaery walked down the halls towards the war room, the cloak she wore slightly longer than usual as it trailed along the floors. Two guards walking behind her. It was a precaution her brother had insisted on when she had been accepted as one of the Kings personal physicians and then, a personal confidant to the King.

There were definitely those both in and out of Robb's court who would seek to do her harm in order to advance their own ambitions.

But Margaery couldn't care less about that now. She was quite curious to know if the rumours that the King were true, it was still in the early hours of the morning, the sun not even having risen yet and she'd been woken rudely by loud stomping footsteps rushing up and down the corridor outside her room. The handmaidens that she had brought along with her had explained that they had learned from some of the guards that the King was furious with news from the North.

But the exact news was being kept a secret by Robb's personal guard.

And that was how she found herself here, moving to the war room as to speak with Robb. Margaery liked to think that in past few months she had spent by his side that they had grown to become friends, he still refused to call her by her given name, constantly referring to her as, "my lady" because he said it was, "improper" for him to refer to her as Margaery.

It was frustrating, but despite that Margaery knew that he had grown to trust her enough to at least confide in her. She had no doubts that there were plenty of things he kept secret from her, but that was fine, the very fact he did confide in her from time to time showed that she was becoming a trusted friend and ally, just as she was meant to be.

As she rounded a corner, Margaery came upon the sight of her brother, Ser Robar, Smalljon, Ser Emmon and many other members of Robb's personal guard marching down towards her. Each of them stone-faced and clad in full armour.

She didn't know what had happened or what was going to happen, but their very countenance told her that they were preparing for a fight.

"Brother, what's happening?" Margaery asked, Garlan coming to a stop as the rest of the guard continued on under the command of the Smalljon, one of Robb's most trusted men and allies.

"Margaery, return to your room." Garlan warned. "It's not safe."

Ignoring her brothers words of warning, Margaery stared up at her brother firmly. "I'm not a child, dear brother. I am very much capable of protecting myself and I have my guards with me." Garlan took a quick glance to the two men of House Tyrell that had stepped back to give the siblings some measure of privacy. "What is happening?"

"I cannot tell you, the King has demanded secrecy on this matter. If you must know, then head to the Great Hall, a meeting will be held there soon." With that, and a quick nod to the men guarding her, Garlan set off down the corridor to catch up with the rest of the King's personal guard.

Margaery temporarily pausing as she looked at her brothers back in surprise.

It was no doubt a temporarily slip of tongue, something he hadn't meant to say or imply, but nonetheless it had happened. Her brother had kept her out of the loop simply because Robb asked, well knowing Robb he ordered it, but even so, Garlan had always informed her of the inner workings of Robb's court and to parts she wasn't privy to. The very fact that he did not, showed that maybe Garlan's act of a loyal servant was no longer just that anymore.

Putting that thought out of her mind, Margaery continued walking down the corridor and looked at the door leading to the war room.

Taking a deep breath to centre herself, Margaery knocked on the door and waited patiently. There was a shuffling of movement and then the door was opened to reveal the near nineteen year old, Olyvar Frey, Robb's squire and from what she had seen, was quite devoted and a good friend of the King.

She could understand why. He was shown more compassion, friendship and kindness from Robb than his own father. Margaery very much doubted he could betray Robb.

"Lady Margaery, what are you doing here?" Olyvar asked.

"I came here to see the King, is he here?" Margaery smiled charmingly, though while there was a slight flush to his cheeks, Olyvar seemed mostly unaffected.

Shaking his head, Olyvar answered negatively. "He is not, my lady. His Majesty, the King left for his chambers to pray." Margaery nodded her head, without a Godswood, Robb was effectively without a place to properly pray, but still seemed very pious and religious, using his sword with the Weirwood handle as a means to pray to his Old Gods. Margaery herself was very much a believer of the Seven, but she did find the Old Gods very interesting.

"I will go to him then, thank you, Olyvar."

"Ah, his Majesty wished to be undisturbed." Margaery frowned slightly at Olyvar's words, but nonetheless believed she would be able to see him, that was until Olyvar spoke next. "He is being guarded by Lady Dacey and Ser Brienne."

That stopped Margaery before she even began, her mouth temporarily opening before closing once more, pursing her lips tightly. Both Brienne and Dacey were very stern and strong women, as much as she might try, she would not be able to convince either women to let her through.

"Thank you, Olyvar." As he bowed his head, Margaery turned on her heel and started making her way towards the Great Hall. 'I guess I will have to find out what all the fuss is about a bit later then.'

-X- Line Break -X-

Standing dutifully in the corner of the room, Margaery took a cursory glance over the room at the gathered lords and ladies. Most were comprised of the Northern lords that had come south with Robb, but there was also a few lords from the Riverlands and even a small handful from the Westerlands.

Many had of course refused to surrender to Robb like Lord Damon Marbrand of Ashemark. But there were those like Lord Gawen Westerling of the Crag, Lord Sarsfield and Lady Alysanne Lefford of the Golden Tooth. While they didn't have much in the way of troops to offer them, they did provide what little support they could, even using their influence in the politics of the Westerlands to try and make Robb's position more advantageous.

Though with the recent losses he had taken, Robb's campaign in the Westerlands was brought to a grinding halt. He had around nine thousand men to spare last she was told, though about five thousand were spread about acting as a garrison force at all the conquered castles and at the four mines he had taken at Pendric Hills, Nunn's Deep, Castamere and Tarbeck.

That left him with a force of four thousand which wasn't a number Robb was willing to use in order to siege other keeps. Especially when one realised that each castle still unconquerable had near one thousand men defending it. Admittedly, most were recruits, but Margaery had learned in recent months that a simple recruit had a significant advantage when defending a wall against an experienced attacker.

The recent siege of Banefort had resulted in a significant amount of casualties, the largest Robb had suffered when personally leading an attack.

She was broken from her train of thought when the door opened and in strolled Robb Stark. His typical armour, fur cloak and sword on his person, but this time accompanied with the Crown of Winter. Margaery was certainly surprised by the sight of it, Robb rarely every wore it, but when he did, Margaery found that he looked quite handsome in it.

However, she knew that now wasn't the time to be admiring him.

His handsome face, usually one fixed into one of calm, collectedness that helped inspire confidence and put men at ease, was now entirely blank. A palpable air of anger radiated from the young King as he made his way through the now quiet crowd of lords and ladies, each going silent as soon as he entered.

Especially when they looked at the small group of wolves that also accompanied him. The two largest being directly at his side, those being Grey Wind and the recently found Nymeria, the Direwolf belonging to Robb's younger sister, Arya. With them was a small pack of wolves, numbering no more than ten, but Margaery admired Robb's attention to his image.

He was seen as the Young Wolf, even Grey Wind deferred to his commands and amongst a wolf pack, the Alpha ruled. The idea that a small pack of wolves, including two Direwolves followed the Young Wolf made his legend grow further, an impressive thing considering it's already large size.

Behind him, Dacey Mormont, Ser Brienne, Olyvar and Perwyn Frey followed behind, each dressed in full armour. It was definitely a strange sight, especially as over the past few weeks, with the war being put on hold, many had stopped wearing armour constantly, even the King.

Moving up the stairs leading to where the head table would usually be positioned, now only a simple wooden chair, slightly larger than most others in the room was stood and Robb sat down in it.

Nymeria and Grey Wind lowering onto all fours at his feet, with the smaller wolves laying about on the stairs. His four guardsmen, standing behind the throne, two one either side.

All in all, it worked perfectly to keep him as the dominant power in the room, a show of force and strength that kept every lord and lady in the room silent. Margaery couldn't help but internally applaud him for his actions and she couldn't help but feel touched to know that he had been listening. As much as he didn't like being King, he certainly was getting used to acting like one and Margaery liked to think that she had something to do with that.

Well, that was a lie, she knew she had something to do with it.

She had made a number of suggestions on how to create silence using actions instead of words. They seemed to be working masterfully, Robb no longer having to speak or raise his voice, but simply making his presence known in order to create silence.

Even now, the lords and ladies in the Great Hall remained silent, each looking to Robb, waiting for him to speak but he never did. His gaze never once stopped staring at the door of the Great Hall as if oblivious to the nervous fidgeting of those in his court. Many wishing to ask why they were here, yet all were too afraid that in being the first to speak, they would bring about the anger of the King.

Truly, he had taken her lessons to heart and used them masterfully to control the room.

He really was becoming a good King.

As seconds ticked by and the fidgeting lords and ladies looked ready to burst, the doors opened and in strolled the remainder of Robb's personal guard. Their presence caused a ripple of whispering and pointing to take place, those around the room taking careful note of how they were dressed, but more specifically as to who they were escorting into the room.

Lord Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort.

As the man was led through the Great Hall and to the bottom of the stairs, he was held in place firmly by Lucas Blackwood and Patrek Mallister. The latter kicking the back of the mans knees forcing him to the ground, while the rest of Robb's personal guard formed up behind the King.

And once again, silence reigned.

At this point, even Margaery was starting to find herself in a similar position to those around her.

Her desire for answers nearly making her speak out, but then she would remember where she was and would stop. Truly, Robb Stark had taken her lessons to heart, even forcing her to nearly fall for the same tricks.

Walking forward, Smalljon Umber glared down at the Lord of the Dreadfort. "Lord Roose Bolton, you have been called before the King to answer for the actions of your bastard snow, Ramsay Snow who has taken Winterfell and proclaimed himself the Lord of Winterfell and forcibly marrying Lady Catelyn Stark as well as to answer for your own acts of treason. What do you have to say for yourself?"

There was mutterings from around the room, many unaware of the news they had been told. Margaery was one of them, looking from Roose Bolton to Robb Stark. Neither man letting their inner thoughts show on one another's face.

Eventually though, it was Roose that spoke. "I am afraid, your grace that I am at a loss for actions of my bastard, I had no part nor any knowledge of his actions up until now. As for treason, I have been nothing but loyal so I do not know of what treason you speak of."

Noise erupted in the Great Hall, shouts of "traitor" and men calling for Lord Bolton's head rang around the room. Mostly from the lords and ladies in the North, it was obvious that the man was not very popular amongst his own kind.

"How convenient for you." Robb uttered quietly, almost unheard by the room.

Almost.

The shouts and jeers disappeared as those in the Great Hall looked to Robb in questioningly.

"Your grace?" Roose asked, a slight frown coming to his face when he looked at the growling wolves, many of the smaller ones having risen to their feet.

"How convenient for you to be able to claim ignorance to the crimes levied against you, especially with the evidence we have against you." There was a pause and for the first time, Margaery noticed the first flash of emotion on Roose's face that she had seen; confusion.

"What evidence? I have served you loyally."

"Only because it benefitted you, do you deny it?" The question seemed to stump the man who did not answer, but his silent said more than words ever could. "In the Battle of the Green Fork, you didn't need to engage the Lannister army, you had plenty of time to retreat before the vanguard reached you according to the reports from the lords under your command. Hundreds of men died there when they didn't need to, the purpose of you march south had been served."

Mutterings once again sprung up, but this time they were only from a few lords. Nearly everyone all looking either at Robb in curiosity as to what other evidence he had or some looked towards Roose with anger. One such individual seemed to be Daryn Hornwood from Robb's personal guard, if she remembered correctly, his father Halys Hornwood had been captured at that battle.

"But the most obvious instances of your treason have been in the campaign here in the Westerlands. When raiding, you routinely would be engaged with large Lannister patrols resulting in large skirmishes and dozens of casualties. However, the worse was at the Crag. Lady Mormont, step forwards."

The short, stout, grey-haired She-Bear of House Mormont stepped forwards, a deep scowl on her face directed towards Roose Bolton.

"Regale everyone here with the siege of the Crag."

"Yer grace ordered the castle to be captured by the time he returned from the Riverlands." The woman started gruffly. "The city supplies were short, no more than a few days rations, I made sure of that with ma focused raids on the livestock of surrounding lands. Started sieging the castle and once the city ran out of supplies in the days we estimated they would, Roose ordered the attack despite ma suggestions we should wait a few more days."

As the lady of Mormont's Keep spoke, Margaery took a moment to study Roose Bolton who seemed to have remained stone-faced throughout the whole procedure. His eyes never once looking away from the King who returned the favour in kind.

"Then, during the siege, Roose would just order men to charge at the most well-defended parts of the city, though he claimed it was the work of Lord Cerwyn and the mans dead so he can't speak out against it." A bit circumstantial, but Margaery doubted that the vague piece of evidence wouldn't be believed.

It was obvious from the whole procedure that this was nothing but a farce. The fate of Roose Bolton was already decided and this was nothing more than an effort to be seen treating a lord fairly, even a fool could see it. But from the looks of the various lords and ladies around the room, the Leech Lord did not have many allies, if any at all.

"Thank you, my lady." The She-Bear bowed her head and stepped back in line along with the rest of the lords of the North, watching and waiting to see what the Young Wolf would do next.

"What do you have to say in your defence, Lord Bolton?" Robb asked.

"Nothing more than circumstantial evidence." Roose said the very thing she was thinking.

Though that changed when she noticed the slight upturn of Robb's lips as they twisted into a small, almost unnoticeable smirk.

"True." Robb agreed shocking those in the Great Hall, each looking at the young King in askance. "But you see, that's not all the evidence I have against you, Lord Bolton. When I talked of my intentions for the Westerlands, do you remember where I told you our main attack would be focused?"

There was a pause.

"Lord Bolton?" Robb repeated, the smirk on his face growing.

"The King asked you a question." Patrek Mallister spat, roughly shoving the Leech Lord.

Again there was silence and it was then that Margaery noticed the look on Roose's face, it was one of realisation. Realisation that he had been cornered like a rat, baited and fell for it like a fool.

"It seems your memory is failing you, Lord Bolton. No matter, there were others in that room. Lord Karstark?"

"The south, your grace." The Lord of Karhold answered quickly, a savage smirk growing on the older mans scarred face. He looking all too delighted with the events unfolding before his eyes.

"The south." Robb repeated. "And if my memory serves correctly, it is the south that fortified the quickest upon our arrival, is that not correct, Smalljon?"

"Aye, yer grace. Too quickly, almost as if they were warned beforehand."

"That is still not enough proof, your grace. As you said, there were others in that room." Roose pointed out, looking a little more panicked than he ever had before.

"Perhaps, but you see, I split the details of my campaign. I told half of my war council that the main aim of our campaign would be centred on the North. I told the other half that the main aim would be the south. This allowed me to learn who I could and couldn't trust and unlike you, Lord Bolton. Lady Maege Mormont, Lord Karstark and all those that were there have proved their loyalty to me time and time again." Robb admitted, those in question looking all too pleased.

And all the while Margaery couldn't help but praise Robb for how he had done this.

Individually, each piece of evidence was useless. That all changed when one looked at them all as a whole. Roose Bolton had done masterfully well and all of this could have perhaps been overlooked if it wasn't for the fact that Robb must have been suspicious of Lord Bolton from the very beginning.

The fact was that as good as Roose Bolton had been at covering his tracks, Robb had just been far too suspicious and because of that, studied the Leech Lords action too deeply for his true aims to not be discovered. And now, faced with all this evidence, Roose was effectively at the mercy of the Young Wolf.

It didn't matter that he had nothing to do with his bastards action in the North.

It didn't matter that he had won a strategical victory at the Battle of the Green Fork despite being the retreating army, but in doing so cost unnecessary lives.

It didn't matter that the evidence of his treason in the Westerlands was circumstantial and vague.

All of them combined along with the Leech Lords lack of popularity was enough reason alone to execute the man. There would be no lord or lady that would speak about the injustice of it all.

Even if it later came out that maybe Lord Bolton was innocent of one or two of the things he's being accused of, no one would care to speak out against it because it's too late to do anything about it. Lord Bolton's fate was sealed and by the look on his face, he knew it.

"Your execution will be on the morrow. Say your piece with the Old Gods." With a wave of his hand, both Patrek Mallister and Lucas Blackwood grabbed Roose Bolton by the arms and dragged him out of the room.

And as the door shut behind them, no one knew what to say.

-X- Line Break -X-

Grunting, Jon slowly sat up, wincing at the pain that rushed through his body at the movement. Looking around he found himself in a sparsely decorated room with a light fire burning in the corner, Ghost laying beside it. He then looked down to see the various bandages wrapped around his body.

"Good to see you awake, Jon." Owen said as he entered the room with a bowl of water and some food that he placed down in front of Ghost who hungrily feasted upon it. "Was wondering how long you were going to be asleep for, you lazy bastard."

Jon gave a small smile at Owen's jest. "How long was I out?"

"Few days, passed out as soon as we got back." Jon nodded his head, the journey back from the ambush had been long and arduous. The Ironborn had chased after them doggedly and Jon had thought he would die there. By some miracle they managed to get to Deepwood Motte alive where in which the true reality of his injuries struck and Jon could no longer remain awake.

"What's happened?"

Owen frowned, something that Jon noticed and felt a measure of dread fill him.

"Well, barely thirty of our men survived, the Greatjon is either dead or captured, not sure." That caused Jon to release a deep sigh, the Greatjon had been on of the most experienced and had been pivotal in defending the North. Without him, Jon highly doubted they'd have similar levels of success that they had.

This in turn caused him to think back to the whole reason this began in the first place. Theon"s betrayal and it made his anger grow tenfold.

"Rodrik Cassel was beaten at Torrhen's Square by Victarion and his forces. He was on his way back when," Owen paused which Jon took as to mean something terrible was about to come. "When a Bolton force annihilated his force, only a few survivors remained, Rodrik was not amongst them. The Bolton's then marched to Winterfell under the guise that they were here to help and then took the castle."

Jon cursed under his breath, his fists curling tightly to the point his knuckles became white.

"And…"

"There's more?!" Jon exclaimed and Owen reluctantly nodded his head and Jon collapsed backwards.

"The leader of the Bolton force, Ramsay Snow, or Bolton as he fancies himself now proclaimed himself as the new Lord of Winterfell. Has taken Catelyn Stark as his bride and has sent ravens out demanding that all the lords of the North swear fealty to him or he will kill Rickon and Bran as well as Lady Stark." Owen finished.

There was a pregnant pause, Jon unable to fully comprehend everything he had been told. And when he seemed to finally understand the true weight of the situation, his head just collapsed into his hands.

"It's not all bad news, Jon." Owen eventually muttered upon seeing Jon's situation and he could relate to the man. He had been there when Robb had spoke to him his father the other Mountain clan chiefs, they had been entrusted with defending the North should his attempted negotiations with the Greyjoy's result in a betrayal.

How he predicted it, Owen had one clue.

But they had been given their orders and yet despite their early string of victories, it seemed they had well and truly failed. Their army was stretched thin and barely none-existent. Just being able to beat the Ironborn would be difficult with their current forces, but to deal with a Bolton Rebellion as well?

That was madness.

"Like what?" Jon muttered.

"Lord Mallister should be taking Moat Cailin soon. Our last message from him stated that he should be taking the castle in a weeks time. That means only a few more days and we'll have an additional six thousand men. And we've also received a number of ravens from various acting lords and ladies stating that they will not support Ramsay and their loyalty is with the Starks."

"And what about those that haven't?" Jon asked.

"I would suggest sending riders to them and trying to figure out their allegiances. The Bolton's have very few friends if any. Their current army seems to be made up entirely of Smallfolk that have taken his threats against Lady Stark and her children seriously. It's a testament to the love the people of the North hold to your family." Owen added the last part more as words of comfort, but he knew it wouldn't do much.

"How many men does Ramsay have?"

"No more than a thousand, though that number seems to be increasing slowly. I doubt he will have anymore than two thousand before people stop joining his army." Owen explained.

Jon nodded his head slowly.

"Send riders out to those houses that haven't sent ravens. I want to know where their loyalties lie. In the meantime, we'll just have to wait here until Lord Mallister breaks through from the south."

-X- Line Break -X-

Looking tirelessly over the map, Robb tried desperately to come up with a way to get out this position he was currently stuck in. The war in the North had reached a tentative stalemate, Jon's forces were too small to move, Lord Mallister's forces were still besieging the stubborn Ironborn at Moat Cailin, Ramsay Bolton was building an army at Winterfell and the Ironborn were waiting and watching to see which side of the warring Northern houses would move first.

Down in the south things were looking slightly better, but still grim.

The Riverlands were secure, a force of ten thousand men stationed at Harrenhall under Lord Tytos Blackwood ensuring that Tywin couldn't march his army into the Westerlands without first having to deal with that force. He also couldn't march south and join up with the Dornish host stationed at the Princes Path, if he did he would be leaving Kings Landing exposed.

Equally Robb couldn't expand his campaign further into the Westerlands without leaving those castles and accompanying lands dangerously exposed to those few castles refusing to surrender.

The war had seemingly reached a stalemate on all fronts.

And try as he might, he couldn't find a way to change this situation. He just simply didn't have enough soldiers to make those changes.

As his gaze flickered over the various figurines that indicated army positions. His hand then picked up another wooden rose figurine that belonged to the seemingly invisible host of twenty-five thousand men belonging to House Tyrell that was meant to be marching to their aid.

Robb was getting anxious with how well hidden the force was.

He had done something similar with a force of six thousand men at the Battle of the Whispering Woods, utilising his own scouts to kill any enemy scouts, effectively rendering his movements invisible to the world. However, to see it being done with a force over four times as large as his own was a testament to the commanders skill.

But the one thing that worried Robb the most, was that this could all be an elaborate ploy by the Tyrells. Earn his favour and trust all the while being secretly in league with the Lannisters and use what was meant to be a reinforcing army to wipe him out.

As much as he didn't want to believe such things could be possible, this war had taught him that one should always expect the worse from someone. He liked to think that his paranoia was at a healthy level, what with the betrayals and losses he was suffering, but Robb was finding it difficult to say who he could and couldn't trust.

With every passing day though, Robb found himself looking at people with more suspicion.

Groaning, Robb sat back in his chair with a sigh, his gaze looking towards Nymeria and Grey Wind that were curled up on the ground. The other wolves were not here, as much as Robb liked to use the image to his advantage, two large Direwolves already took enough space in his chambers, having ten other wolves would only make it more crowded.

No, they were instead down in the kennels he had constructed.

They didn't like them, but Nymeria seemed more than capable of putting them in their place. It always amused him to see the sight, the wolves were wary of Grey Wind and avoided fighting him, yes but they didn't follow him nor did they listen to him. No, they only followed Nymeria.

A knock at his door broke him from his thoughts and the door opened revealing Ser Brienne. Things had been tense originally between them, Robb imagined it had something to do with Renly and then basically being handed off to him by his mother. However, things had become more tense what with his mother's capture in the North. As much as he wanted to free his mother, sending a small group of men was suicide at the moment.

His men had already foiled a number of failed attempts by the Lannisters to flee Jamie and even a few from the Frey's to free Walder Frey. All had failed.

No, Robb knew that's sending men to Winterfell would only end in failure. Ramsay Snow would only allow men that he trusted to be guarding his mother and brothers. And they would be under constant guard. Any attempt at freeing them would result in the deaths of good men.

Unfortunately Brienne didn't understand that.

Then again, her understanding on war was still limited. She'd only fought in two battles so far and was still very much firm in her belief that one didn't have to become as bad as those you were fighting to survive. Robb had believed in something similar when he marched south, but that belief had left him very soon.

Though he guessed it was admirable for her to stick so closely to her beliefs.

"Lady Margaery wishes to speak to you, your grace." Brienne spoke curtly and Robb nodded his head, indicating for her to let Margaery in.

Turning his gaze out of the balcony and onto the bustling city of Sarsfield below, he listened as Margaery entered the room. He could hear her footsteps as she moved across the room, the sound of her dress dragging across the floor and despite him, he hoped it was one of those she brought from the Reach. The weather was good, but as soon as the thoughts were in his mind he ride them soon after.

His mother and brothers were at the mercy of Ramsay Snow and here he was thinking of Margaery in a pretty dress. What was wrong with him?

"Are you thirty, your grace?" Looking back he saw Margaery pouring herself a glass of wine and Robb nodded his head at her offer. She quickly went to work pouring him a glass and bringing both goblets towards him.

Handing one to him, Margaery stood by his side and looked down at the map, a slight frown coming on her beautiful face.

"It seems that things are not looking good." Margaery muttered and Robb nodded his head in agreement, taking a large gulp from his goblet as he did. "Do you have a plan, your grace?"

Robb hesitated because while, he did have a number of plans they were risky, too risky for him to want to test them. All of them would come down to so many moving parts working perfectly in tandem and he just didn't want to put the fate of this war on chance.

"I have a few, my lady." Robb admitted, it would not do well to admit that he was stuck. In doing so it may very well cause the Tyrells to change their allegiance, if they weren't already playing him for the fool. "Though I admit, reinforcements would be helpful in avoiding taking unnecessary risks."

"Your grace, I promise you that the reinforcements my family promised will be here soon."

"You say that, my lady but everyday I see nothing. No sightings and no messengers. All I have is yours and your brothers words and yet, despite those promises I have nothing to show for it." Margaery frowned as Robb spoke, she could not deny that he was right. Everyday they promised reinforcements were on their way and each day there were no sightings of Randall Tarly or his men.

And with the recent events in the North, Margaery knew that everyone was being scrutinised carefully by the Young Wolf and everyone else.

It just so happened that due to the lack of their promised reinforcements that she, her brother and the men of House Tyrell were coming under the most suspicion. Margaery had no clue why Randall Tarly was taking so long, she had no clue what he was doing either, but she just wanted to curse the man.

Here she and her brother were working hard to earn the favour and trust of the Young Wolf and his actions were making that task infinitely more difficult.

"It is true that things are…difficult." Margaery began, Robb looking to her questioningly, especially when she took one of his hands in both of hers as she went down onto her knees. "But my family swore themselves to you, the Reach named you their King as did we. House Tyrell do not redact our words easily."

That was a lie, Margaery knew it and suspected that Robb also knew it. But she needed to run interference because things could very well become very bad for her House and the Reach if things did not turn around soon.

"I want to believe you, I really do." Robb answered, before extracting his hand from hers as he rose to his feet, walking away leaving Margaery in his chambers silent.

-X- Line Break -X-

Tywin looked around at the members of the Small Council, scrutinising each of them closely. He did not trust any of them, he never had and never would. Even so, they were now people was having to rely on to extract himself from the difficult situation in which he found himself.

"In all, the army should number fifty thousand, my lord." Varys, the Spider spoke quietly, a pleased look on his face as he recounted the recent report on their armies situation. It was certainly better than it had been a few months ago, but it was also arguably worse.

Ten thousand of his men, trained Lannister soldiers, well-disciplined, well-armoured and well-trained. Each of them survivors of the battle against Stannis nought a few weeks ago.

He had an additional fifteen thousand recruits from the various lands all over the Crownlands, but mostly from Kings Landing. No more than untrained rabble which would take weeks if not months to train to an acceptable level of skill and cohesion.

An assortment of Sellsword companies that added an additional fifteen thousand men to his army. Well-trained, but their level of skill and the lack of proper discipline between them would result in serious problems with the overall cohesion amongst his army.

Then an additional ten thousand men from the Golden Company. They were the jewel in the rough, the best Sellsword company in Essos and one he was relieved had accepted his offer.

In total, fifty thousand men however, he only had around twenty thousand men on hand, half of which were fresh recruits lured by the promise of land in the Riverlands and Westerlands. The remaining additional recruits from the surrounding lands of Kings Landing would take an additional week to arrive in which Tywin would have to ensure all were at least lightly armoured and had some measure of training.

The Sellsword companies would then take an additional few weeks to arrive. It was Tywin's aim to ensure that the Smallfolk were trained in time for the Sellswords arrival.

And this was down to one very simple reason, he didn't have the food or supplies necessary to feed such a large army for very long. No, Tywin would need to take his army as soon as the Sellswords arrived and march upon the Riverlands, crushing the Young Wolf in a short enough space of time that he could keep his army well fed.

If he didn't, the war would be all but lost.

The Spider had already reported that the Young Wolf was aware of Tywin recruiting from the people of Kings Landing and the Crownlands. However, the Stark King was tied down in the Westerlands and couldn't move his forces without leaving himself dangerously exposed.

Even the fifty thousand men of the Reach under Mace Tyrell stationed along the Mander were unable to move, the Dornish warriors led by Oberyn Martell camped at the Prince's Path served as a big enough warning in of itself. The Red Viper occasionally pushing his men a few miles north as if intent on invading the Reach but quickly scurrying back to the Princes Path when Mace Tyrell turned to face him.

Unfortunately, the Lord Paramount of the Manders never once marched to engage the Dornish host. Whether it was because he had finally gained some sense or because his commanders managed to keep him in check, Tywin did not know. But he was grateful because this way, fifty thousand warriors were being kept occupied.

Even if his army was gathered, Tywin was still wary of his chances of victory.

The Young Wolf's forces were divided into three factions:

The North.

The Riverlands.

And the Reach.

However, the former two had fought side by side for near a year and the Reach had already committed five thousand men to the Young Wolf's cause. Unlike Tywin's army, the Stark King would have a great deal of cohesion, unison and discipline amongst his army that Tywin wouldn't be able to match.

And the worse thing of all, was that Tywin knew that the Young Wolf would use this chance to prepare for him.

Robb Stark would be choosing where the battle would take place and it would be in a position Tywin would have no choice but to march and meet him without putting himself in a vulnerable position. As much as he didn't want, Tywin could begrudgingly admit that he admired Robb Starks skill for war.

Men like that were rare.

However, just because Tywin would be forced to meet Robb Stark that was advantageous for the Young Wolf, didn't mean he had to do so unprepared. His gaze flickering to the empty seat that belonged to the Master of Coin, Petyr Baelish.

And as he did, Tywin smirked.

The war would end and House Lannister would rise to even greater heights as the new rulers of Westeros.

-X- Line Break -X-

Robb studied the man across from him carefully.

Randyll Tarly was not what he had expected. From all the talk of being one of the finest military commanders surpassing even Lord Mallister in skill, he had expected something bigger, larger than life almost. Not the short, balding, grey haired man before him. Then again, Robb imagined that many people expected more when they saw him as well, so it would do well not to judge.

Especially considering his arrival brought with it many questions.

Where was the promised Reach reinforcements?

What had he been doing that required him to be so delayed?

Where did his allegiances lie?

All these questions and more were things Robb needed answering, but for now, he was too busy analysing the man across from him just like the man seemed to be doing in turn. In the end, neither of them broke the silence, instead it was Ser Garlan.

"Lord Tarly, I'm glad to see you well." The knight said with a smile on his face, one the lord of Horn Hill didn't return, only giving a slight incline of his head.

"I am glad to see you well as well, Ser Garlan." Randyll greeted in turn before once again turning to Robb, this time the man bowed his head fully like he had when first arriving. "Your grace, forgive my late arrival, things have been…difficult."

"You were expected weeks ago, Lord Tarly." Robb intoned firmly. "And yet, I do not see the promised army."

Randyll said nothing as the various men gathered in the war room uttered words of agreement at Robb's words. Many wondering if the men of the Reach were nothing but cowards, ignoring the fact that five thousand men led by Garlan had fought, bled and died by their side for the last three months.

"You're correct, your grace. My army are not with me, they're with my son, currently besieging Deep Den." There was a ripple of shock at those words, no news had reached them of a large army so close to their territories, nor has they received news of any scouts.

Without saying a word, Robb turned to look at Lord Woolfield who had been in charge of scouting out the surrounding lands. The fact that a large army had escaped his notice and got so close to them was a humiliating thing.

However, as Robb turned back to Randyll he looked at the man in a new light. Hearing tales of a mans skill in military affairs was one thing, Tywin Lannister had been touted as a man of great skill, but Robb found those rumours to be grossly over exaggerated. Better than most he may be, but Robb had hardly found the Old Lion living up to the legends told of his skill.

'It's more than likely rumours that the Lannisters fuelled as to increase their own influence and power. Rumours everyone else in the Westerlands were too scared to refute considering what happened to house Reyne and Tarbeck. Now that those illusions are being shattered, many of the Westerland lords and ladies are flocking to me in order to aid me. And more come with every passing day.' Robb thought vindictively, just imaging the anger Tywin must feel.

"Not only that, I would like to report that the castles, Crakehall, Cornfield, Silverhill and their surrounding lands now belong to you, your grace." The silence that followed his proclamation this time was deafening, many unable to comprehend just what they were being told.

Robb himself found it difficult to believe, yet as he looked at Randyll Tarly's eyes he saw no falsity or lie there. Everything the man had told him was the truth and it made his lips twist up into a smirk.

Not long ago he had worried that the war would be lost.

That house Tyrell and the Reach would betray him and all this time, Randyll Tarly with his full refreshed and much larger army had taken over most of southern half of the Westerlands. All that stood between them an Lannisport now was Clegane Keep and that would fall soon enough with the additional troops they had.

"And your losses, Lord Tarly?" Robb implored, depending on the answer he was given, he could very well match east and start preparing the defences their against the growing Lannister army while leaving Randyll Tarly in charge of the Westerland campaign.

"Minimal, your grace. In all, my host has suffered two thousand losses. I have twenty-three thousand men ready and waiting to bring the Westerlands to heel. All on your order." There was a flash in the mans eyes that Robb recognised, it had been the same look in many of the Northern lords eyes when he had first marched south.

The man would follow him, but only because of his position.

That didn't mean he had the mans loyalty or respect, no that would have to be earned.

Despite himself, Robb felt a smirk come onto his face.

This war would soon end and with it, House Lannister would be ruined.

-X- Line Break -X-

Closing her eyes and ignoring the urge to let the tears gathering in her eyes, Catelyn just lay there as her new 'husband' thrust away into her. He was not gentle, not loving like her sweet, beloved Ned. No, her new husband was rough, hurtful and delighted in causing her as much pain as possible.

She had quickly learned that he delighted in drawing out sounds of pain from her and the moment she released one whimper or showed the slightest level of discomfort he'd be all the more eager to do the same again and again. Even now, as she stubbornly refused to show the disgust she felt being violates by this beast, the pain she felt as he forcibly took her and the horror as to what was happening, Catelyn Stark stubbornly refused to let even an ounce of weakness show.

If she did, she would be giving even more pleasure to the sick animal forcing himself on her and she would not do so.

As the monster, Ramsay grunted out, sheathing himself and releasing his seed into her womb. He pulled out panting with a triumphant smirk as he looked down upon her abused and violated form.

She was grateful that he didn't stay to taunt her, to mock her or anything of the sort. She was equally as grateful that he didn't decide to partake in his other forms of 'fun.' The numerous still open cuts on her back stung, the furs upon which she lay stained with small amounts of blood, but the pain was nothing like the pain she felt in her heart.

Her beloved Ned, Sansa and Arya dead.

And her eldest son was fighting a war but now, with her capture she had gone and ruined his momentum. The North with her capture was becoming a more complicated and bloody affair, the monster that forced himself on her every night delighted in telling her how Jon was unable to do anything but watch as the Ironborn continued to push inwards and the rest of the Northern lords were being forced to bend the knee.

To be entirely honest, Catelyn didn't know fact from truth.

The monster liked to lie and trick her constantly, even when he told the truth she still doubted him.

But one thing she did know was true, was that her children, Bran and Rickon were safe. They having escaped with Hodor, Osha and the two children of Howland Reed, Jojen and Meera. It was a relief to her, so long as her children were not being held hostage everything would be okay.

But now she needed a find a way to elevate the burden she had become on her firstborn. With her capture, retaking the North would be impossible, especially if she allowed Ramsay to use her against him.

Catelyn would not become a burden for her family, nor would she be used against them.

She'd rather die first.

And with that firm thought Catelyn curled the stubs that had once been her fingers round tightly. The flash of pain she felt from the movement from the still healing stubs was ignored as Catelyn glared up at the ceiling of the room that had once belonged to her and Ned.

It may not be today or tomorrow.

But she would find a way to resolve this situation even if it meant killing herself. That way she could rid the burden of choosing between her and the North from Robb's shoulders.

-X- Line Break -X-

The news of Winterfell's capture at the hands of the Bolton was shocking. Theon hadn't been able to believe it and it was only when he snuck upon the seat of House Stark and saw the Bolton banners flying from the walls that he realised it was the truth.

Now here he sat in the newly conquered city of Ironrath deeply in thought.

Catelyn captured and now betrothed to Ramsay Snow.

Bran and Rickon held captive.

Theon honestly questioned how things has gotten to this point. 'Oh that's right, you betrayed Robb.' He snarked, a deep frown on his place as he thought back on the events leading to this moment and if one asked if it had been worth it, his answer would be a simple, no.

No it wasn't.

His sister, Asha seemed to find him a joke and his own father seemed entirely too disappointed in him to the point he didn't even give him command of any actual attack of worth. If he was to serve under his dunks Aeron, Theon could even partially understand and accept that but he would still be outraged. Yet, to be put to be under the command of a man like Dagmer Cleftjaw as well?

That angered Theon even more.

Luckily, Aeron had gotten himself beaten in the Wolfswood and had slunk back to the Stony Shores with what few men had escaped after his battle with Jon there. Dagmer had gotten himself killed at the battle of Torrhen's Square.

Theon on the other hand had been able to rally what remained of some of the troops and led a successful ambush on Jon in the Wolfswood. He'd stood by Robb's side and learned a few things from the Young Wolf. He had used those tactics to bring a crushing defeat to the North and had been praised for it.

Theon even took a kick out of putting the bastard in his place.

But all of that was dampened when news of what happened in Winterfell reached his ears. The Starks for the most part had treated him better than most hostages would be kept, he was even treated better than most Wards.

Catelyn had of course being distant and distrusting of him, but her treatment of him was marginally better than the way she treated Jon. Ned had been of course being a little distant, but he was kind and understanding, firm but fair. Then there had Robb, despite being older than the boy, the two had grown close and Theon had long since considered them to be brothers.

'And look what I did.' He thought, almost disgusted with himself. 'I'm raping and pillaging his kingdom while he fights to avenge his fathers and sisters. Me, a brother he trusted and now his own mother and brothers are being held hostage in Winterfell, his own home.'

Bran and Rickon, that was another thing that worried Theon the most. He had never interacted much with Rickon, Catelyn keeping Theon away from him as much as possible, much like she had with Bran when he was younger. But Theon had grown closer with Bran when he started climbing the walls, had even covered for the young kid when Ned or Catelyn came looking for him when he wasn't supposed to be climbing.

Now and always.

Now and always.

Now and always.

The sound of his words recited in his end like a never ending cycle and Theon clutched his head tightly. The memory of the day he set out and Robb asked him that question constantly repeating in his mind drove him mad.

Robb had trusted in him and he had betrayed him.

And at the start Theon had been convinced that it was all for family. That this was how things were meant to be, him with the blood of Salt and Iron while Robb the blood of a Wolf and Winter. They were too different and yet, despite being surrounded by his 'true' family he felt more alone.

Snorting humourlessly, Theon threw the goblet in his hand across the room angrily. "You're pathetic." He spat out, insulting himself as he watched the red wine spill out on the stone surface. "You betray your brother for a family that doesn't even want you. And now that things are difficult, you're wallowing like a pathetic child."

Standing up with narrowed eyes, Theon stared into the fire crackling.

"I am Ironborn, I pay the Iron Price. What is dead may never die." He muttered the words fiercely and then, stormed out of the room.

Through the winding corridors of Ironrath and down to the deep cells beneath the keep. Dismissing the two guards stood outside the cage, he looked into the darkness and onto the sight of a large figure caged to wall like an animal.

"What'd ye want ye traitorous cunt." Spat the man and Theon remained stone faced.

"I'm sure you've heard the news, Winterfell has been taken by the Bolton's, Catelyn married to the bastard, Ramsay Snow and the Stark Princes are being held captive." Theon said and there was a momentary pause from the man.

"Aye, a heard. Looks like yer not the only traitorous cunt out in the world. The King'll take their heads just like yers." The man snarled out.

"Perhaps, but I have no intention letting that happen."

"So why the fuck are ye here then?"

"Because I want your help."

There was a loud bark of laughter.

"Now why the fuck would a help ye, ye traitorous fuck?"

"Because I'm going to free Lady Catelyn and the Stark Princes. That's why."

And in response, all Theon received was silence.

So another chapter done, Robb at first begins to doubt everything, but with Randyll arriving and the news that all the southern keeps except for Clegane Keep has been conquered, Robb starts to realise not all is lost. In the North though, things are looking very grim. However, Tywin is equally confident in his own victory.

Jon has been effectively knocked out of the war now he is waiting for Lord Mallister who is on the verge of breaking through the fortress of Moat Cailin. The Ironborn are standing watch as a potential northern civil war seems on the verge of erupting. And Ramsay is using Catelyn as a hostage, faking news that he has Bran and Rickon as well to keep the northern lords in line who are still undecided.

However, the Smallfolk of the North, have taken Ramsay's words seriously and have joined Ramsay. Catelyn is now a prisoner, raped by Ramsay and even had her fingers removed.

Yea, I know it's fucked up and what did you expect? Did you think that because the Old Gods came or Robb's aid that the Starks would be unharmed? Oh no, there are very old and powerful beings in the world just like the Old Gods who have their own plans and ambitions. Robb's survival has altered those plans and forced new consequences to come about. Catelyn's new position is one of those consequences.

Anyway, army composition time.

Robb's Army (Total – 106,000 men).

- Westerland Army (King Robb Stark) – 32,500 men.

- Harrenhall Army (Lord Tytos Blackwood) – 10,000 men.

- Moat Cailin Army (Lord Jason Mallister) – 6,500 men.

- Army at Deepwood Motte/Mormont Keep (Lord Jon Stark) – 2,000 men.

- Reach Army (Lord Mace Tyrell) – 50,000 men.

Tywin's Army (Total - 50,000 men).

- Kings Landing Army (Lord Tywin Lannister) – 20,000 men.

- ~ Smallfolk Reinforcements (Ser Adam Marbrand) – 5,000 men.

- ~ Sellsword Reinforcements (N/A) – 15,000 men.

- ~ Golden Company (Harry Strickland) – 10,000 men.

Balon's Army (Total – 12,000 men).

- Ironrath Army (Theon Greyjoy) – 1,000 men.

- Torrhen's Square Army (Victarion Greyjoy) – 8,000 men.

- Moat Cailin Army (N/A) – 2,500 men.

- Stony Shores Army (Asha Greyjoy) – 500 men.

Ramsay's Army (Total – 2,000 men).

- Winterfell Army (Lord Ramsay Bolton) – 2,000 men.

Oberyn's Army (Total – 20,000 men).

- Princes Pass Army (Prince Oberyn Martell) – 20,000 men.

Stannis's Army (Total - 19,000 men).

- Remnants of Main Army (King Stannis Baratheon) – 9,000 men.

- Stormlands Garrison (N/A) – 10,000 men.

And now, onto the questions:

Svenion: Ned and the girls, like said above it's a plot-line that hasn't been given time to develop. I'm not gonna repeat myself so read what's above if you haven't already. And why are you acting like I'm the one who decided the Greyjoy's should still be around? I'm not the one who wrote ASOIAF so you're words are confusing. As for Ghost not being there, so what? It's a battle, nough said.

Gtopia: Sadly war is never that simple. The fact is Robb has an army that big, yes but he needs to be careful. He could attack Tywin yes, but he'd have to do it while sieging Kings Landing which will cost him thousands of lives. And that's also considering the fact his forces are spread out over three different campaigns, four if you count the stuff going on in the Reach. War isn't as simple as those with the bigger numbers win and you have to think the effect of losing thousand, possibly tens of thousand would have on everyone in Westeros.

Even as the better commander Robb can't take a city like Kings Landing without huge losses.

Freakdogsflare: So the west where the Ironborn has been ravaged. Hundreds and even thousands of men killed. So that took a huge dent out of how many men could be raised, as for the East. It's been mentioned in earlier chapters that they have gathered all available men, but only to defend their keeps. But they will be making an appearance soon.

Time Parad0x: So, just word of warning, there's quite a few of your complaints that like mentioned above are not plotholes are anything of the like, but plot-lines not given ample time to develop. I will point out those to you bluntly and if you want answers, then feel feee to PM me, I'm willing to answer.

First of all, Rodrick doesn't have three thousand. He did when initially taking the castle but took heavy losses resulting in only a thousand being left. And for your information, taking the walls is very difficult. Torrhen's Square had a very small garrison (less than two hundred men) so while they fought hard and held on for Rodrick to arrive, by the time he killed those Ironborn still outside, there were many on the walls and so would have to take the walls. This might be a misunderstanding due to me not explaining properly so I apologise.

But taking the walls resulted in heavy losses leaving only a thousand men out of the three thousand Rodrik arrived with. Then the Ironborn led by Victarion managed o take the city very quickly after that with a force of 5,000 men. The remaining 5,000 still sieging Goldgrass.

Ramsay is a plot-line that you haven't given time to develop. PM me for answers if you want. As for Roose, you'll once again understand in a few more chapters, you'll just have to wait.

As for Theon, he and Jon were raised together and wasn't experienced in leading, Theon knew this and so used that to his advantage. I also have the answer to why he knew how Greatjon acted in the next chapter.

Martell are a plot-line that once again, hasn't been given time to develop. PM me for answers if you want.

As for Robb's visions, you do realise that the Old Gods aren't the only beings like that out there in the world? Do you really think others wouldn't make plans to counteract what the Old Gods did?

Sellswords, they're being given free rights to pillage whatever they want from the lands under Robb's control. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.

lakomat: You're right I did make the Ironborn stronger than canon, so I apologise on that front but I'm keeping it as it is. As for Barrowtown, well you'll understand in the future. Second, the Westerlands, hopefully this explains why they prepared so quickly, if not that your problem not mine.

Third, the Crownlands, they don't. They have ten thousand left from the main army, Tywin is recruiting an additional 15,000 men from the Crownlands and Kings Landing. As for the Sellswords and Golden Company, they haven't arrived yet. I don't know where you got me 40,000 men just from the Crownlands from. In the talk with Tyrion and Varys I clearly said that with the recruits, Sellsword companies and Golden company he would have forty, not with just the recruits.

Stannis' garrison force has been, it's just information that hadn't been shared up until that point. Information doesn't travel instantly so news of what was happening in the Stormlands was limited.

Roose and why he was given command was a test as stated above. As for why he betrayed, well that mystery will be revealed in the future.

Guest: The Dornish is a plot-line that hasn't been given to properly develop yet. As for Theon, an explanation will be provided next chapter, if it doesn't satisfy you then tough, I don't really care at this point.

Again, I reiterate, if you really want to know why certain story choices have been made and don't have the patience to wait and let the story unfold then PM me.