Blood and Winter

Chapter VII

"Our reports indicate that Tywin Lannister has grown his host to over twenty thousand men. They're currently all stationed outside the gates of Kings Landing." Ser Brynden informed, arms crossed over his chest as he stood on one side of the map in the war room at Harrenhall. All around the room were the gathered lords of the North and Riverlands that had not marched north with Lord Mallister.

Thirty in all.

Robb looked over the map carefully.

After Randyll Tarly had arrived at Sarsfield and followed soon by the arrival of Lord Prester of Feastfires and Lord Farman of Faircastle, both offering their surrender and swearing fealty to Robb, the Stark King had marched east back into the Riverlands. Accompanying him were the nine thousand men that remained from his original army and additional five thousand men from Lord Tarly.

As for the Westerlands and more importantly, Clegane Keep, Lannisport and Casterly Rock which had still not fallen? He left them in the capable hands of Randyll Tarly, the Lord of Horn Hill having proven himself with his recent string of impressive conquests.

Robb felt secure, especially when he joined his army of fourteen thousand up with the ten thousand stationed at Harrenhall under the command of Lord Blackwood. It had been a long journey, taking at least two weeks to finish the journey, but now they were all together. Even so, it seemed that Tywin had also not been idle.

Already his host of ten thousand men after the Siege of Kings Landing had grown to over twenty thousand. Admittedly, most were fresh recruits, but they had the added advantage of being able to use the walls of Kings Landing.

It was why Robb didn't march down south and end the war now.

He wasn't confident in being able to take the city despite having near equal men, but Robb also having the more superior and experienced troops.

"We should march south and take the fight to the Lannisters!" However, some lords were just eager to get the war finished. Many wanting to return to their homes, especially the northern lords. But even as he shared their sentiments, Robb would not risk tens of thousands of lives all for the slim possibility of victory. Especially when it wasn't even a certain victory.

"If we do that the Lannisters will just hide behind the walls. They'll be at the advantage, even with most of their army comprised of recruits." But despite having a number of hotheaded commanders, he also had a number of calmer lords capable of balancing it out nicely.

"We need to make a move soon though, who knows how many more men they could recruit. There additional men are all from the Crownlands, they could recruit thousands more from the Stormlands." Marq Piper spoke grimly as he looked on the map.

Ser Brynden who had been in charge of the scouts and keeping tabs on the Lannister army shook his head. "Can't, Stannis picked the land clean before he up and left. He left ten thousand men in charge of defending the Stormlands when he attacked Kings Landing, when he lost, those lords that decided to switch to Joffrey were all killed. Stannis has since took nearly every able bodied man he could and left. It will take the Lannisters far more time to actually collect willing men from the Stormlands and train them in time to the point it isn't a profitable venture."

"So that's some good news at least." Lord Forrester muttered, a thought shared by many. "Though it does raise the question of where Stannis has disappeared to."

It was a pointed question one that Brynden shook his head to. He had no clue, Stannis was elusive and had sailed his ships out of sight from him or his men to see them from land. Which in of itself was a worrying thing as it meant they had a dangerous and powerful man now nowhere to be found.

"Where Stannis is doesn't matter right now. The Lannisters are weakened, but if we leave them alone for too long that won't be the case." Lord Karstark pointed out gruffly which caused his war council to erupt into argument once more.

All the while Robb continued to study the map before him in thought.

It was safe to say that they were suffering from a lack of information. Such as why the Dornish were allied with the Lannisters despite hating them? It didn't make sense and ruined Robb's initial plan to march south and meet with additional reinforcements from the Reach and besiege the city with over sixty thousand men.

Now that plan was no longer viable, the Dornish ensuring to put pressure on the Reach soldiers and keeping them firmly in place.

"My lords!" The door opened and a young messenger boy rushed in, face flushed and breathing heavily. He quickly bowed, then briskly walked towards the King and bowed once more.

"What is it?" Robb asked.

"There is a man here to see you, it's the Hound." There was few murmurs, many looking just as confused as Robb felt. The Hound, Sandor Clegane here to see him. Was it to try and murder him? No, that was too stupid and too desperate.

"Bring him in." Robb ordered and the young boy, which Robb realised would actually be the same age as himself rushed out.

"Is that wise, your grace?" One lord asked. "He could be here to try and kill you."

"In front of so many people? He'd be foolish and suicidal to try." Another chortled at the thought just as the man in question was escorted into the room by a number of guards, each looking warily at the gnarled figure of the Hound.

"Ser Sandor Clegane, you stand before King Robb Stark-"

"No need for that, Lord Piper." Robb interrupted, he had a long list of titles and he didn't fancy hearing them all once more. It got tiresome and he really didn't have the patience for it at this moment in time. "Sandor Clegane, what brings you here? A Lannister soldier and the loyal dog of Joffrey Hill?"

The man in question looked round the room at all the gathered lords and knights, many standing warily with hands on their blades. There would be no way for him to actually get to the King, not that he wanted to in the first place.

"I got some information for you about the Lannisters. Thought you might appreciate what I have to say."

"And why should we believe a word that comes out of your mouth?" Brienne questioned, her sword already partially drawn from her sheathe.

"Ain't gotta answer to you. 'Sides, if you ain't gonna listen then that's your problem, not mine." Sandor grunted.

"And what do you want in return for such information provided it is valuable?" Robb pushed.

"Think I'd come all this way if it weren't?"

"No, perhaps not." Sitting down in his chair, Robb indicated for Sandor to speak.

"The Lannisters have been recruiting a large number of Sellsword companies from Essos, including the Golden Company. Some twenty-five thousand worth. Thought you ought to know that much." Sandor said shortly, not beating around the bush causing a ripple of shock to fill the room.

'Twenty-five thousand? That would bring his army to near fifty thousand in all.' The thought alone was harrowing and Robb released a deep breath in frustration. Just when it seemed things couldn't get any worse, the world seemed to hit him with another problem.

"I thank you for this information, Ser Sandor." Robb nodded his head shortly getting a grunt from the Hound. "Ser Robar, Ser Mallister, escort Sandor to get some food and sort out a reward for the man, a generous reward."

"Yes, your grace." The two men bowed and made their way out of the room, Sandor following behind shortly after.

"Ser Brynden, I want eyes watching the coast surrounding Kings Landing for any sign of incoming ships." Robb firmly stated, getting a nod of the head from the Blackfish.

His words though seemed to shock a few present.

"Your grace, you don't really believe him do you?"

"Not entirely. If he is lying then I am confident in our victory, but if he is telling the truth, I want to be warned beforehand." And as he looked at the map, a frown cam to his face. "Though this does suit us better. The Stormlands have been stripped of everything of worth, including food and the Crownlands have been suffering from a food shortage for some time now."

Robb's words seemed to spark some understanding from his men. "He will have no choice but to march and meet us in battle."

"Aye, and with it we can use that to our advantage and use this time to choose the battlefield." Robb pointed to the Kingsroad, west of the Antlers. "There will be where we crush the Lannisters once and for all. Ser Garlan, inform your father and tell him I want ten thousand additional men sent to join us in the Riverlands."

"What of the Dornish?" Garlan asked warily. As much as he loved his father, he wasn't blind to his many faults, Mace Tyrell for all his boasting, was not an accomplished or very good commander. Garlan worried that taking men away from that army would only result in his fathers defeat.

"They've made no move to attack. I believe they're only intention is to ensure the Reach cannot march on to join us in full force. If they had intention of actually attacking your father or the Reach they would have done so by now. There are many ways to defeat a larger army." Robb pointed out and Garlan bowed.

"I will send a raven at once." With that, he spun on his heel and made his way out of the room.

"In the meantime, Lord Karstark I want you to take ten thousand men and secure the Antlers and the Kingsroad, here." Robb pointed to the position just west of the seat of House Buckwell. "The remainder of our army will march to meet you once you have taken your objectives."

Robb was confident that the Old Lion would come and face him, the Lannisters would have to. If they didn't their army would starve to death or be left vulnerable from the rear and flanks.

No, Tywin would have to face him in open battle and despite being outnumbered, Robb would ensure every other advantage was with him.


A loud cheer rang through the air as his men flooded into the ruined stronghold of Moat Cailin. The siege had been long and difficult, but finally they had taken the Keep and now secured the entrance into the North.

'However, it seems to have come too late.' Lord Mallister thought as he slowly urged his horse on into the stronghold.

A few days ago news had reached him of the Bolton's betrayal and Lady Catelyn being forcibly married to the bastard, Ramsay Snow. He was using hers and the Stark Princes as hostages and had tried to force the rest of the Northern lords to swear to him.

No one had it seemed, except for Lady Dustin. The woman having evacuated her people the moment the Ironborn started raiding and fleeing west. It seemed they had since joined with House Bolton and there army of five thousand was marching to join with the Bolton's at Winterfell. They in turn forcing the Smallfolk of House Cerwyn and House Stark lands to bend the knee.

When Lady Dustin arrived they would have an army numbering seven thousand in total. Possibly more if other lords joined the Bolton's, though that was looking unlikely. Many of the lords in the south eastern part of the North had already sent riders or ravens to inform them that they would not answer Ramsay's call and would remain loyal to House Stark.

He had also been informed by a raven from Jon that those in the north eastern part had told him the same.

With this in mind, Lord Mallister had already sent out instructions. In total, there was around ten thousand men in the eastern half of the North. Lord Mallister intended to gather at least half of those men and add them to his own host raising it to over ten thousand. Similar instructions had been sent to the Houses further north to do the same with Jon at Deepwood Motte.

Now, ideally Lord Mallister would then march north, Jon marching south and they'd crush the Bolton-Dustin rebellion before going on to beat back the Ironborn in one fell swoop. However, the capture of Catelyn Stark, Bran and Rickon brought a halt to those plans.

They couldn't march on Winterfell with them as hostages, that was true. But in turn Ramsay couldn't kill them because if he did then he'd have nothing left to bargain with.

It was a risky gamble, Lord Mallister knew that much.

But if it paid off, the Bolton-Dustin rebellion would be crushed before it truly began.

The one positive to this whole event was that the war in the North seemed to have ground to a half on all fronts. Jon had of course suffered high casualties and was now hunkering down at Deepwood Motte.

The Ironborn themselves were suffering from various problems. Those stationed at Ironrath despite having won the Battle of the Wolfswood and then taken Ironrath, had done so facing heavy casualties. The force of over two thousand men, had since been reduced to near a thousand.

As for Aeron and his army which had been struck hardest by Jon's numerous successful ambushes in the Wolfswood? Well they were now simply sat on the Stony Shores with a mere few hundred men and wouldn't be moving anywhere or doing anything of note for a long while.

The biggest threat of them all was Victarion Greyjoy. Despite his forces being the largest, he had suffered major casualties in the beginning. Moat Cailin had fallen relatively quickly due to his superior numbers. In then he had lost only a few hundred men, leaving six thousand to defend it before then sailed to take Flint's Finger with a host of ten thousand.

Casualties there had been small, the seat of House Flint falling after a single day of sieging. Victarion had then taken his fleet north and began laying siege to Goldgrass while they easily took the nearly abandoned seat of House Dustin, Barrowtown.

The biggest loses the man had suffered was against Rodrik at Torrhen's Square, five thousand men killed. It was a testament to Rodrik's determination to not surrender that despite facing nearly ten thousand men with only a thousand that he managed to inflict such damage upon Victarion.

Since then, the Greyjoy commander had remained at Torrhen's Square, seemingly content to continue ravaging the surrounding lands and watching as northern civil war took place.

Lord Mallister intended to use this momentary bit of peace to increase the size of his own army and wait for that singular moment. Ramsay or the Ironborn would make a mistake eventually and when they did, he would be there to take advantage of it.

It was only a matter of time until something happened.


There was silence in the war room, all the lords that had been gathered discussing their plans on how to properly defend the Kingsroad looking at their King silently. A messenger has arrived at Harrenhall nought but a few hours ago before they set out for the Antlers and had delivered the King a letter and a small package.

Robb had read over the letter and they had all been a let to see that whatever it's contents read, had enraged the young King. His frame tensing and his eyes narrowing to slits, Grey Wind in the corner of the room mirroring his masters anger with a deep growl.

Then the King had folded the lefter and calmly, too calmly put the letter down and picked up the pouch. Opening it, Robb had looked inside and had since remained silent, his face giving away nothing, just staring blankly down into the pouch.

"Your grace?" Dacey asked from Robb's side.

Closing the pouch and gripping it tightly in one hand, Robb turned to look blankly at Garlan who shifted uncomfortably under such a gaze. "Ser Garlan, has your father responded."

"Yes, your grace." Garlan responded nervously. "He regretfully states that he cannot as he fears the Dornish will attack."

"And as I have already said, Ser Garlan. The Dornish have no intention to attack. If their intention was to beat your father in battle, they would have been harrying him for days. Instead they have remained camped at Prince's Path, only ever moving when your father does." Robb reiterated.

"I understand, your grace. But my father still insists-"

Garlan's words were stopped when Robb angrily slammed his right fist into the table, the loud bang echoing across the room as those inside flinched in shock. "I do not care what your father thinks!" Robb spat out, storming around the table to left, those between him and Garlan hurriedly stepping back out of the enraged Kings way. "You named me King of the Reach, did you not?"

"Y-yes, your grace." Garlan uttered in shock, taking a half-step back as Robb invaded his personal space putting him off-balance mentally.

"And your father did the same, did he not?"

Garlan responded affirmatively like before.

"Then tell your father, that I'm not asking him. I'm ordering him as his King. Now get out and send a raven to your father." Robb whispered dangerously, the Knight of the Reach quickly bowing and rushing out.

There was silence, no lord or lady gathered capable of speaking, too shocked by what they had just seen unfold before their eyes. All the while Robb paced the room anxiously, his fist tightening around the pouch in his hand, his other hand running through his red hair roughly.

"All of you out." Robb eventually muttered, breaking the silence.

No one was quite capable of understanding what he was saying, still too shocked by the earlier events.

"I SAID OUT! ALL OF YOU OUT!" Robb roared angrily, his words stirring people into action as they rushed out of the room in a hurry. All the while Robb watched them go with a deep glare upon his face and once the door closed behind him, Robb collapsed into his chair. His breathing shaky and his eyes scrunched tightly in an effort to quell the tears gathering in his eyes.

Both Grey Wind and Nymeria moved towards him, whining in questioning and sniffing the contents of the bag. Once they did they both growled angrily, Nymeria even going so far as to howl.

'It's all my fault!' He cursed mentally. 'If I hadn't trusted in Theon, if I had just prepared a little more and not underestimated the Ironborn, I could have avoided all this. It'd all my fault!'

Robb didn't really know how long he spent there, sat in that chair surrounded by Nymeria and Grey Wind. The silence of the room only broken by the occasional whine or whimper from the two Direwolves, Robb didn't care.

'Ramsay Snow, I'll kill him.' He snarled internally, the sudden change of his mood from sadness and guilt ridden to full of anger and hate was one felt between the bond he shares with Grey Wind. The Direwolf growling angrily in a way that Robb's rage only fuelled making it sound more bestial and terrifying. 'When I get my hands on you your death will not be quick or painless. I'll flay you like your family did in the Age of Heroes. I'll tear you limb from limb, feed your heart to Grey Wind and impale your head on a spike. I'll make sure that you'll suffer a lifetime of pain and suffering before I let you die.'

Rising to his feet, Robb looked over the map, his mind awhirl with thoughts of revenge. He needed to finish Tywin off and then march north and end the Bolton-Dustin rebellion. He'd make sure they all paid dearly for their crimes.

"Your grace?" Looking up sharply, he saw Margaery enter the war room. "Is everything alright?"

"It's fine." Robb said shortly, watching as she crossed the room towards him. There was a frown on her face, an unfortunate sight as she looked at him. Eventually though, her eyes trailed down to the pouch clutched tightly in one hand and reached out. Her hands resting on his and slowly she eased the pouch from his loosened grasp.

There she placed it on the table, her gaze temporarily looking at its contents. As she did, Robb noticed the look of abject horror on her face before it disappeared.

"You should not be here, my lady. I wish to be left in peace." Margaery smiled sadly.

"I understand, your grace. I just heard that you were angered in wished to see if there was anything I could do to help." Margaery reluctantly stepped away and Robb watched her curtsy. "If you wish to be left alone, your grace. I will leave."

There was a moment in which Robb was about to say yes.

But there was just something in him that couldn't see her go. He would not deny that he had always desired her, he doubted that there was anyone amongst his men that didn't desire her. Yet, he had always chosen not to act on those thoughts, those desires, always doing the honourable thing.

'I'm tired. Tired of denying myself what I want. I want the Lannisters dead. I want Theon dead. I want Ramsay dead.' And as he looked upon Margaery, still waiting dutifully for his dismissal of her, Robb found his throat going dry. 'I want her.'

Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and pulled her in towards him.

A slight gasp escaped her lips when she found herself suddenly pulled into Robb's chest and when she looked up at him with wide eyes filled with shock, whatever thoughts or doubts in his mind ceased to exist as he dipped his head down and kissed her. Both his hands moving to grip her hips as he felt Margaery tense in shock.

But she quickly melted against him, her lips moving in time with his as a slight hum of appreciation escaped her throat.

It was a sound that only drove his senses wild, his nose filled with her scent and taste of her on his lip all that made his blood pulse beneath the surface. And as he pulled her further into him, he moved her backwards even leaning down to pick her up and put her on table behind them.

"Your grace." She whispered as Robb began pulling her skirts up out of the way. "Robb."


Laying there with a dull, pleasurable sensation filling her body, Margaery looked up at the sleeping figure of Robb. The young King seemingly having fully relaxed for the first time since marching south and was finally letting him sleep properly. Both of them wrapped together in the furs of their bed, their naked bodies intertwined with one another.

Margaery knew she should feel elated, victorious and triumphant for finally succeeding in seducing Robb. A man who had stubbornly refused her for months, yet she didn't.

All she felt was…disappointment.

Disappointment in everything.

Margaery had finally done it, seduced Robb Stark and yet, she didn't feel like she had succeeded.

'Why do I feel this way?' She questioned with a frown.


Sitting quietly in the carriage, her body shaking along the rough road, her eyes looking out the blinds that covered the windows and onto the world outside. They had departed from Highgarden but a few days ago, making their way to Harrenhall for the wedding between King Robb Stark and his future Queen, Margaery Tyrell.

It had taken months, but they had finally succeeded.

Margaery was now Queen, and to a King that would win the war. House Tyrell would ensure that the Starks would win.

"It seems everything has fallen into place." Willas spoke from his position across from Olenna. "Margaery will be Queen and the Starks will win. Robb's recent capture of Antlers and his preparations to face Tywin has given him the advantage. Especially when we arrive with the additional ten thousand troops he has requested."

Olenna hummed in agreement, letting the blind once again fall down blocking the view of the outside world. "That maybe true, but Tywin's forces have been growing daily. More of his hired Sellsword companies arrive and bolster his army."

"True." Willas nodded his head. "However, this is working against him. Already our spies report that their already low food supplies are running almost empty with the more soldiers that arrive. Most of the citizens in Kings Landing are receiving no food at all, most of it going to army. Tywin will have no choice but to march out and with Robb preparing for battle at the Antlers it will be difficult for him to win."

"Even so, it would not do to count Tywin Lannister out just yet. That man is dangerous and cunning, he may very well find a way to turn things around." Olenna warned gravely.


Cheering rose amongst the Great Hall as lords and ladies celebrated. Men and women moved sat drinking from tankards and feasting upon meats. At the head table, overlooking it all, Robb sat smiling with his new wife, Margaery at his side.

Laughing freely for the first time, Robb watched as Dacey and Smalljon had Garlan pinned, forcing beer down the drunken knights mouth.

"I do believe dear Garlan will struggle to find his way to his room tonight." Margaery noted, laughing lightly as she watched the proceedings. Her gaze temporarily flickering to where her family were sat on her other side, each of them looking shocked and worried by what was happening.

"Oh I imagine Dacey will be more than willing to help him get to a room. I doubt very much though that it will be his." Looking scandalous, Margaery slapped his shoulder, though there was a large smile on her face.

This only made Robb laugh harder, the alcohol he had loosening his inhibitions and allowing him to act like the young boy he was. It was a sight that only made Margaery's smile grow wider in turn.

Rising to his feet, the Great Hall quietened down as those inside looked to him. "My lords, ladies." He called. "The war we've fought has been long and hard, we've lost many friends and loved ones. However, today we celebrate not only my marriage to my wife, Margaery Stark. But today we celebrate those that have given their lives to get to this point."

"To the fallen! And the King!" Smalljon exclaimed drunkenly as he rose his tankard in the air, the mead inside spilling out over the sides.

"To the fallen! And the King!" The room echoed and every man in the room rose the tankard to their lips and drank from it. No one spoke, even those that were still not drinking as they watched those few continuing to drink away until they finished.

The Smalljon was the last, slamming his tankard on the table with a roar. All around the room men and women cheered as the merriment continued.

"An excellent speech, your grace." Willas said as he moved to sit on the more seat at Robb's right side, once inhabited by Lord Karstark who was now singing merrily on off tune with a number of other lords in the centre of the room. "Though I can't quite help but wonder why such a speech."

"Willas, dear brother. Not now, it's my wedding day." Margaery murmured sadly and Willas just smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, dear sister."

Robb just patted Margaery's leg. "It's fine." He said to her before turning back to Willas. "Tywin will soon march on us, when I depart with the men here to Antlers I have no doubt Tywin will march out to meet us soon after. When that happens, it will be a bloody battle. This wedding is a good opportunity to boost morale, the speech was just to remind them of why we're fighting."

"I see." Willas murmured.

Before he could continue speaking, men started chanting as they slammed their goblets and tankards on the wooden tables in the Great Hall of Harrenhall.

"To bed! To bed! To bed!" They chanted, slowly rising in tempo and volume and Robb felt a smirk grow on his face.

A group of men moved up to the table, picking up Margaery who looked entirely too embarrassed by the whole proceedings as she was picked up with a yelp. The men carried Margaery down the steps and across the room, men coming up and ripping off bits of her clothing till she was barely clothed once they exited the hall.

At the same time, a number of women came up and dragged Robb down after her. Each time pulling off bits of his clothing as they dragged him out of the room.

Laughing, Robb eventually reached his room and was pushed inside to find Margaery stood waiting, clad only in the black cloak he had wrapped round her shoulders. The bare minimum of clothing she had left from the journey of the Great Hall was now at her feet.

Moving forwards he cupped her cheeks and kissed her hard, Margaery moving to deepen the kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Shuffling backwards, Margaery let Robb lower her down onto the bed, him leaning back to look at her naked body. There was a moment in which he paused but her hands running up to his arms compelled him to lean down where she brought him back in for a deep kiss.

The night was young, and they were eager.


"Is this true?" Jon asked looking towards his former brother of the Nights Watch, Eddison Tollett. The rest of the room consisting of the Mountain clan chiefs and Skagos Island lords as well as envoys from House Mormont, House Forrester (those that had escaped the Ironborn in time), House Glover, House Umber and Karstark all of which looked shocked by the news they had been told.

Why wouldn't they be?

Things were already bad here in the North as they were.

The Ironborn still numbered near ten thousand strong and controlled nearly the entirety of the eastern shore.

The Bolton-Dustin alliance had seven thousand men and firmly entrenched in the centre of the North.

They, those loyal to House Stark and King Robb meanwhile were spread out. Jon in the North with no more than two thousand men split between Deepwood Motte and Mormont Keep. Then there was Lord Mallister in the south with near six thousand men at Moat Cailin. And while they had near four thousand additional troops scattered at the various castles on the North, he'd need to be careful on not weakening the garrisons too much.

Jon knew that out of him and Lord Mallister, he was in the weakest position and was by far the most inexperienced military commander. If it came down to it, both Ironborn and the Bolton-Dustin alliance would turn to take him out before dealing with either each other or Lord Mallister.

Now on top of all that there was rumoured to be a horde of one hundred thousand Wildlings marching on the Wall led by former Ranger of the Nights Watch, Mance Rayder. All in all, things were seemingly only getting worse and worse.

"Lord Commander, Joer Mormont was injured quite severely when he led three hundred men beyond the Wall. Only fourteen returned, and he fears that if the Wildlings attack with our forces weakened, the Night's Watch will be lost." Eddison said firmly.

"Even if that is true, we are stuck in a war against the Greyjoy's and a civil war against the Bolton's and the Dustin's." Owen scoffed. "Where do you suggest we pull our troops from exactly?"

His words were met with nods and other indications of agreement from those in the room.

"See to it that, Eddison is given food, ale and a nice bed to rest in." Jon said to the guards who nodded their head and escorted Eddison out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind the guards, silence filled the room. Many looking to one another questioningly as to what they would and could do now. Jon himself was equally as worried, a horde of Wildlings coming south was the last thing they needed.

"Mors, how many men can the Last Hearth provide without weakening the Last Hearth greatly?" Jon asked the castellan of Last Hearth.

"About eight hundred, m'lord."

"And you, Arnold?" Jon turned to the current castellan of Karhold.

"Around a similar number." Arnold grunted out.

Jon didn't even need to ask as he turned to Alysane Mormont, the castellan Mormont's Keep. "I can provide two hundred men, m'lord. We suffered heavy casualties in defending our home."

"Very well, with my own three hundred men, that will bring us to over two thousand men. I'll lead those men to the Wall and bolster the defences of the Nights Watch." Jon informed, earning a few grunts of discontent.

It was not difficult to understand, two thousand men was a lot, but against a hundred thousand it would be nothing. "Is that wise?" Arnold asked. "They'll be just sent to the slaughter. It would be best to save those troops and use them to bolster our offensive against the Ironborn and Bolton's."

"Perhaps." Jon nodded his head. "But if the Wildlings take the Wall, we will have a horde of a hundred thousand marching south. No matter what progress we make in beating back our enemies, we will just be leaving our rear exposed. At least on the Wall we have a chance of drastically reducing their numbers making it easier to deal with them."

And as Jon thought on it, an idea came to mind.

"I want a raven sent to the King." The Maester of Deepwood Motte bowed. "Inform him of the situation here and ask him if he would be willing to offer land to the Wildlings and a place to live in return for their aid in retaking the North."

There was a few outraged cries from the gathered men here. Each of them had dealt with Wildlings that managed to sneak beyond the Wall and they had a poor opinion of the Free Folk.

"Castellans, please." Jon implored. "If we were to link up with Lord Mallister, aye we would have the advantage. But we are not, our forces are split in two and we are the weakest of the two forces. However, if the reports are true and Mance Rayder is marching south with a horde of a hundred thousand, then why not use that to our advantage?"

The castellans didn't look particularly happy about this arrangement, though a few did look to begrudgingly understand what Jon was getting at. While leading men was not his strong suit, he had definitely improved and Jon was sure that the decision he was making was for the best.

Why sacrifice hundreds only to make no progress. When they could invite tens of thousands to fight for them.

'And if the Wildlings do betray us, they'll be too weakened after fighting the Ironborn and the Bolton's to be much of a threat.' Cold and callous his thought may be, but he knew that he needed to think like that in order to win.


Trudging along the ground, Theon ignored the crunching sound of snow between his boots as he kept his eyes and ears alert for any sign of movement in the forest around him. It was safe to say that he had escaped Ironrath, what else would one call it when he escaped with the most high value prisoner they had?

Beside him, the heavy footsteps of the Greatjon carried on and Theon also made sure to keep his gaze on that man as well. He didn't think the man would turn on him, not least of all when they were both heading to Winterfell to free the Stark hostages.

But Theon wasn't so sure.

"So, tell ma squid, what exactly's in this for ye?" Greatjon asked, looking unbothered and as if he wasn't sneaking away from the Ironborn in the keep behind them. "Ye can't really be trying to get back in the good graces of the King, are ye?"

"What's it you, Greatjon?" Theon snapped and his answer caused the giant man to chortle.

"Bah, yer a sad excuse for a man. Ye betrayed yer brother and now ye go crawling back 'cos ye know he's gonna come back and rip yer fucking head off." The man laughed louder this time.

"I'm not doing this to get back in the good graces of Robb."

The Greatjon looked entirely unconvinced. "Really? Yer nought more than a fucking idiot. Can't even admit that yer doing this whole thing to go crawling back to the King, especially considering the war in the south is all but won. And then he'll come north and crush every Ironborn here before going onto the Iron Islands and tearing it apart, all to get to ye. Yer dead meat and ye can't even admit it."

Then in grit his teeth in annoyance.

"If I'm a fucking idiot, then what does that make you? I'm the one that beat you and the bastard, remember?"

"Aye, I remember." Lord Umber just continued to smile. "Caught my by surprise with that, surprised a cunt like ye could come up with a plan like that. Really made ma wonder where ye learned it?"

Theon didn't answer.

"Ah come on lad, no need for secrets between us." The Greatjon slapped Theon's back almost knocking the Greyjoy to the ground. "Come on, ye can tell me, ain't like it's gonna change ought."

"From Robb." Theon eventually muttered. "I learned it from Robb."

"Oh."

Theon didn't answer for a few moments, a deep scowl on his face. "Robb always said that you're one of the best offensive military commanders, but you're shit when it comes to defending. I remember that the only tactic you came up with was attack. As for Jon, he never learned to lead." Theon mocked and the Greatjon smirked.

"Aye the Kings right. I'm shite at defending. Though being recognised as one of the best military commanders by the King does make ma chest fill with pride. And you're right about Lord Stark, he's inexperienced."

"Well I ain't, I stood by Robb's side and watched him lead. I learned about how he strategised." The Greatjon nodded his head, understanding what Theon was saying. Watching the King work was an eye opening experience, it was no stretch to say that he was one of the best military commanders of not only this century, but possibly in the entirety of Westerosi history.

His name would be told throughout history, that much would be true.

And if Greatjon was anything, he was going to make sure it was told on the same level as awe as the Aeron Targaryen. Only then, would the rest of Westeros know how powerful the North was.

"So ye learned a few tricks here and there, so-fucking-what. I've done the same fucking thing. Why don't you tell me how you did it. That's what I'm really interested in."

Theon was silent once more.

"Come on now, ye was never ashamed of bragging when we marched south, when yous was still loyal. What's wrong now, ye lost yer fucking balls?" The Greatjon egged on.

"You wanna know what I fucking did, hmm?"

"Why'd ye think I'm asking, ye fucking squid?"

"You wanna know? Well I did exactly what Robb did to Tywin. I used my main army as a decoy to draw your attention while I had few small rowing boats ferry men up the coast and sneak them into the Wolfswood. How about that for a fucking strategy? Sure put you and the fucking bastard out of the fight didn't it? Wonder how your King will feel knowing that his bastard brother and the man he trusted to defend the North got beaten by a fucking traitor."

It was the Greatjon this time who was silent, looking at Theon with a murderous glare.

Only for that to quickly disappear as he burst out laughing.

"Ahahahaha! I really touched a fucking nerve!" And he laughed once more.

Feeling a flush rushing up his neck, Theon spun on his heel and started storming through the forest. The large strides of the Greatjon allowing the Lord of Last Hearth to easily keep pace with the smaller man.

"Ye a real fucking piece of work, ye know that squid? But I admit, ye surprised me with that, didn't expect it from ye." The Greatjon admitted. "So what's ye plan to get Lady Stark and Princes out of Winterfell?"

"You really expect me to tell you? You'll kill me as soon as I tell you!" Theon exclaimed bewilderedly.

"Aye, you're right about that." And as Theon walked ahead, the smile on the Greatjon's face slipped away. 'And when ye done helping ma, I'll lob ye fuckin' head off anyway. Yer dead a dead squid whether we succeed or not.'


Sat on his horse, Jon looked on forwards as the rhythmic sound of two thousand men marching through the snow sounded behind him. Next to him, Eddison seemed entirely uncomfortable with being at the front and so many people being behind him.

"You seem uncomfortable." Jon noted and in turn, Eddison shot him a reproving look earning a smile from Jon.

"This is all your fault, why am I leading an army like this from the front. It ain't normal."

Jon laughed at that.

"You get used to it after a time. I felt the same way you did at first." Jin admitted before patting Eddison on the shoulder. "Besides, you're a brother of the Nights Watch, it's only right that you lead from the from by my side as we march to your aid."

Eddison looked at Jon diffidently. "You're different. Less brooding, I'd say."

"That would be the influence of the Greatjon. You can't really be quiet when he's around, he doesn't let you." Eddison chuckled at that, he'd nearly pissed himself when he'd met the Greatjon for the first time at the Wall, the man had not only being huge, but he'd been a terrifying individual. Especially with his great-sword and the handle made of bones. "You seem nervous."

"Aren't you?" Eddison shot back. "A hundred thousand Wildlings marching to take the Wall and all we've got to defend is less than three thousand men. Why wouldn't I be nervous, we've already had a number of deserters and I've considered it myself."

The admission of this wasn't surprising to Jon. With the war in the south, it was all but impossible to keep track of deserters. And it wasn't like they could go out of there way to hunt down deserters because they just didn't have the men to spare. Knowing this, it seemed many brothers of the Nights Watch had fled and would probably never be seen again.

Either they'd manage to escape and find a new place to stay and hide, or they'd be killed. Whether it be at the hands of muggers, the Ironborn or the men of the North, it didn't matter.

"Aye, I'm nervous. Always have been, even now whenever I head into battle I feel terrified. Doubt it'll ever go away." Eddison just looked grim at this. "But, I would wager every man here with me against a hundred Wildlings."

"Well, when you put it that way, who am I to say no."

"We'll win, my friend. Hopefully without ever having to fight." Jon's words confused Eddison, but he never clarified on what he meant.

The journey to Castle Black continued apace, Jon's mind was filled with thoughts on what had just been discussed. As far as the Nights Watch and men south of the Wall were aware of, the Wall was there to keep the Wildlings in check. However, Jon knew differently.

He'd seen it, Jafer Flowers and Othor somehow coming back from the dead, the latter attempting to kill the Lord Commander. Those sounded like the stories Old Nan used to tell him and the other Stark children about the White Walkers. He didn't want to believe it was true, that there were creatures, monsters like that in the world. Yet, he didn't know what else to describe what he saw.

Even ignoring all that, Jon knew that the Wildlings could prove to be especially useful in liberating the North from the Ironborn and defeating the Bolton-Dustin rebellion. The biggest problem for him was numbers, the Wildings could provide those extra numbers needed to tip the edge of the war in his favour.

All he was waiting on now was a return letter from Robb on his opinion of Jon's plan. He doubted Robb would deny his request, in fact Jon knew Robb would accept. If he could see that lack of numbers was the main problem, then Robb could as well.

The Wildings were the answer to that problem.

In the meantime though, he'd make his way to the Wall, prepare his men to defend against the Wildlings while waiting for Robb's letter. He just hoped it arrived before the Wildlings attacked.

"We're here." Eddison muttered as saw the Wall in the distance.

The week long journey had finally come to an end and Jon was thankful for it. "More, you lead the men. I'll go on ahead with Eddison to meet with the Lord Commander. He didn't need to hear the confirmation as he knew his order would be carried out. Instead, Jon urged his horse forward as he and a few others galloped towards Castle Black, the gates opening to allow him entry.


It was a bright and warm morning, not a cloud in sight allowing sunlight to fully light up the surrounding land for miles. Yet perhaps the most majestic sight was the large army that marched across the green fields. Colourful flags raised high from the Reach, Riverlands, Westerlands and even the North.

Sat upon his horse, Robb relaxed into his saddle as he watched the army march past him, the rhythmic sound of footsteps stomping across the ground filling the air. Nature itself seemingly going silent as to allow the true weight of his army to be clearly heard.

Behind him, Robb's personal guard and the nobles that accompanied sat on their horses waiting for the King to give a command. They'd arrived at the Antlers mere hours ago to find Karstark had secured the seat of House Buckwell. Lord Buckwell held no love for the Baratheons nor the Lannisters.

The former had stripped them of much of their land and sent many of their members to the Black at the end of the Rebellion.

The latter had forced them to empty their garrisons to reinforce Kings Landing and if the rumours were true, those very same men were going to march North with Tywin Lannister. No, there was no love between the Buckwells and the Baratheons and Lannisters, so when Lord Karstark had arrived, it was to find the Antlers greeting them with open arms.

They didn't have any soldiers to spare, but Lord Buckwell had agreed to turn the Antlers into a massive supply depo. Their grain supplies were being opened to allow Robb to store his food there and Lord Buckwell along with Willas Tyrell would oversee the supply lines. Their blacksmiths were working hard to forge spare weapons and armour should it be necessary to rearm soldiers in the battle to come. And practically the entire city and Keep was being turned into a massive medical centre.

Lord Buckwell had contacted practically all the Lords north of Kings Landing, each held no love for the Lannisters who strong armed them to empty their garrison and made them go bankrupt.

When Lord Buckwell had passed on Robb's message, they each answered sending and surgeons they could spare. Robb didn't know if the battle between he and Tywin would end in a day or in could last a week, but he wanted to make sure that either way, he would have the necessary people around that could save as many of his soldiers as possible.

As his eyes panned over the nearby land, Robb finally found what he was looking for. "There." He pointed towards a raised hill, higher than the one they were currently on. "We'll set up our main camp behind that hill."

As the signal was raised, Robb, his personal guard and his lords galloped down the hill to the head of the army and directed it to the west. As they did, Robb's mind studied the surrounding land for any sign of potential weak spots or good areas for traps. There wasn't much, but hopefully it would be enough.

At the end of the day, he was outnumbered.

Even after being reinforced by ten thousand men from the Reach, he only had just shy of thirty thousand men. Tywin on the other hand was bringing fifty thousand men. Ignoring the difference in troop experiments and cohesion, Robb was still wary.

The rumours of Tywin's military expertise were as he had soon realised grossly over-exaggerated. But that did not mean he was inexperienced, Tywin was still a skilled tactician and cunning leader. To believe that he wouldn't have recognised the same differences in their armies as Robb had would be the height of foolishness, and much like Robb would expect, no doubt Tywin had a plan.

At the end of the day, this would not come down to the soldiers that fought, but the men who led them. They were both men who commanded respect, this battle to come was to see who could command the most respect and make their men fight harder. This war was to see who could utilise their men in the best and most innovative ways.

At the end of the day, this battle would be dictated between who was better, Robb Stark and Tywin Lannister.

And that battle had already begun.


Walking upon the battlements of Kings Landing, Tyrion looked to his friend, the Sellsword, Bronn and his squire, Podrick Payne. They were quiet, much like he was, much like the entire city. It was a strange thing to hear from the usually bustling and overcrowded capital of the Seven Kingdoms.

Yet it many were gathered, watching as the large army of near fifty thousand men marched up the Kingsroad. His father had gone at the head of the army and had left hours ago, yet even now the army continued to march in full view of the city, the sheer size of the army could not be understated.

Turning his gaze away from the sight of the marching army, Tyrion turned to the Dornish delegation that were just a little further down the roar. The Prince of Dorne was sat upon his wheeled chair, besides him were three young women, one he recognised due to her expensive clothing was more than likely, Arianna Martell. There were two other women, who if Tyrion was to guess, were probably part of the infamous Sand Snakes.

But guarding the Prince was also Areo Hotah and a number of Dornish guards that had accompanied the delegation.

"Prince Doran, it is pleasure to meet you." He greeted, his voice reaching their ears as the party turned to him, Areo, the guards and even the Sand Snakes seemed to tense up which was a curious thing. They were allies, were they not?

"Imp." Doran greeted in turn, his eyes locking onto his gnarled features, his gift from the Battle of Blackwater Bay. "What brings you here?"

Tyrion smiled. "I imagine, the same reason as you." Stepping past the guards, Tyrion turned to look to the marching army. "What are your opinions on the battle to come? Robb Stark from what our reports state has marched us with just under thirty thousand men. And we are marching with near fifty thousand, by all accounts victory should be certain."

"You don't agree?" Arianna asked.

"Do you?" He shot back.

"Like you said, we have near fifty thousand men, the Young Wolf doesn't even have thirty thousand men." Arianna recounted. "Seems like a forgone conclusion to me."

"And that is exactly how we got into this situation in the first place." Tyrion chastised. "Robb Stark hasn't even reached his seventeenth name day and has become the biggest threat to the Iron Throne since Robert Baratheon. He's been named King and a Conqueror on the level of Aegon Targaryen. Most of it is just fanciful stories and tales that people say, but at the end of the day one should not ever underestimate Robb Stark."

And that was the truth of the matter.

Perhaps if they had taken Robb Stark more seriously in the beginning of the war, then all of this could have been avoided. But they hadn't and as a result they had lost allies in the Freys, then they had lost Jamie Lannister, Tywin had been kept locked down in Harrenhall giving the Young Wolf free reign of the Westerlands. Just when all things seemed to turn back into their favour with the Ironborn Invasion of the North, Robb still showed that he had tricks up his sleeves.

Even when losing the war in the North with the Bolton-Dustin Rebellion had resulted in a three-way stand-off. With no worries about enemies making a push further inwards, Robb could focus his full efforts in the south and that was exactly what they didn't want to happen.

Especially considering their greatest weapon, the Golden Company elephants hadnt arrived yet. They apparently were a few days behind the main force considering specific boats were required in which to ferry them across the Narrow Sea. But they didn't have the luxury to wait for those reinforcements to arrive and so were marching without one of their greatest weapons.

"And what is your opinion then, Imp? You sound almost scared of him" Doran asked.

"I think that Robb Stark thrives in situation that are disadvantageous to him." Tyrion answered honestly. "And to tell you the truth, I am. I'm a Lannister and Robb Stark holds no love for us. Which brings me to an interesting puzzle that I just, can't quite solve. Why is it that you have allied with us? You've made your disliking if not hatred of both Baratheons and Lannisters quite clear in the past, so why ally with us?"

"For the one true King of course." Doran replied ambiguously, a smirk coming onto his face.

So, I know it's been a while, but here we are. Robb and Margaery are married and he marches to the Antlers to prepare for the battle against Tywin Lannister. In the North, Theon and Greatjon make their way towards Winterfell to free Catelyn, Bran and Rickon, unknowing the latter two have already escaped. Lord Mallister conquers Moat Cailin and starts contacting the House of the North preparing his forces to take out the Ironborn and Bolton-Dustin rebellion.

Jon meanwhile learns of the Wildling threat in the North and marches to the Wall to reinforce Castle Black. At the same time sending a letter to Robb seeing if they can offer land to the Wildlings in return for their aid. But perhaps most terrifying of all, Stannis Baratheon has disappeared from sight.

Now for the army distribution:

Robb's Army (Total – 100,600 men).

- Antler's Army (King Robb Stark) - 29,500 men.

- Westerland Army (Lord Randal Tarly) - 23,000 men.

- Moat Cailin Army (Lord Jason Mallister) - 6,000 men.

- Castle Black Army (Lord Jon Stark) - 2,100 men.

- Manders Army (Lord Mace Tyrell – 40,000 men.

Tywin's Army (Total – 48,000 men, ~ 2,000 reinforcements).

- Lannister Army (Lord Tywin Lannister) - 25,000 men.

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

- Golden Company (Harry Strickland) - 8,000 men.

- ~ Golden Company Reinforcements (N/A) - 2,000 men.

Balon's Army (Total – 6,500 men).

- Ironrath Army (N/A) - 1,000 men.

- Torrhen's Square Army (Victarion Greyjoy) - 5,000 men.

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

Ramsay Bolton's Army (Total – 7,000 men).

- Winterfell Army (Lord Ramsay Bolton) - 7,000 men.

Oberyn's Army (Total – 20,000 men).

- Prince's Pass Army (Prince Oberyn Martell) - 20,000 men.

Now onto the questions:

Guest: Literally already told people that yes, I've made the Ironborn too powerful but I'm not going to change it.

Black Victor Cachat: Yep, that's what I'm going for, this is practically everything they've got. But one thing that a lot of people don't understand is that when people (the characters in the story) say that the Ironborn are weak and so on, that's them thinking it.

Guest: Thank you very much, glad to see that you're really enjoying my story.

Lester: Yes, yes he did.

Freakdogsflare: Yea they can, but a lot of those additional men were killed in the initial attack by the Ironborn and the rest in the east have been travelling into the nearby keeps. The North is huge, rivalling that of the other six kingdoms combined, so it takes a very, very, very long time to travel anywhere. So, it takes extremely long amounts of time to gather all their men. As for Greatjon, nope he's alive.