The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.

[TheLionThatRoaredFire]

Chapter One;

In the year of 282 AC, Robert Baratheon of Storms End raised his banners in rebellion against the rulers of the Iron Throne, the Targaryens. The reasoning for Roberts rebellion was a number of instances that had occured, King Aerys burning Lord Rickard and Brandon Stark, but chiefly the kidnapping of Roberts beloved and promised Lyanna Stark by Rhaegar Targaryen. Amongst Roberts supporters were Jon Arryn, the man who had taken him as a ward, Hoster Tully whose allegiance had been secured by the marriage of his daughters Catelyn to Eddard Stark and Lysa to Jon Arryn and of course, Roberts closest friend Lord Eddard 'Ned' Stark.

Against the Kings army and his supporters (Mace Tyrell and Doran Martell most prominent amongst them), the odds had seemed stacked against the rebellion but the basis of a plan had been formed. Jon Arryn would sail to Dragonstone, the seat of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and besiege the castle there while Robert would engage Dorn Martells armies himself to prevent aid from getting to the Kings armies and further bolstering his armies. Hoster Tully would provide support to both Robert in delaying the Flower Lords and support to Ned, who had gathered the full might of the North at Moat Cailin and was preparing to march South. His only task was to get to Kings Landing before Mace Tyrell and take it, while engaging the Targaryen army should he come across it.

Ned left behind his wife Catelyn and a newborn daughter, Sansa the images of their faces etched into his memory, to give him the drive to see this through and bring back Lyanna. At first it all seemed to be going well for Robert and his forces, Jon Arryn faced hardly any resistance and Mace Tyrell's army had yet to move and both Hoster and Ned faced no resistance on their way South. But in 283 AC, tragedy struck in the form of Doran Martell. Unbeknownst to Robert Doran had passed from Dorne into the Reach and engaged his surprised forces.The fighting was quick and bloody, with Robert being forced to flee and it was during the battle that twenty thousand of the Reach's finest slipped past him and bolstered the Targaryen army led by Ser Adamm of the Dragons Gate, who moved North into Stokeworth and then onto the Brindlewood to intercept the Starks.

Outriders were sent from a furious Robert to warn Ned and Hoster of the warning threat, but it was too late. By the time they had found Ned, his army was engaged in a furious battle against the Kings army and was barely supported by a meagre five thousand from Hoster Tully. The battle was looking bad and in a sudden move that surprised both Ned himself and Ser Adamm, he led a charge into the enemy lines. Straight for the Commander himself.

The destruction left by the Stark's cavalry allowed infantry to move in and seal the gap, pushing desperately against their enemies. Shields bashed against shields, swords were dented on each other and waving flags and banners would find themselves suddenly underfoot where they were trampled and stamped with the common soldiers sigil. Bloody footprints.

The world seemed to consist only of Ned, his horse, the greatsword Ice and his opponent as he raced closer and closer towards Ser Adamm. When a bolt from a crossbow took his horse from under him, Ned had leaped clear and found himself in a deadly duel against Ser Adamm. Cutting his Ser Adamm's horse from under him, it took just a few short seconds for Ned to cement himself as a deadly duelist and an almost easy swing from Ice to behead him. It was that short duel that bolstered the Stark's morale and break the King's armys morale, many turning to flee or throwing their swords down and shouting for mercy.

Many expected the war to go on for several more years. Robert had now moved South again to block Doran Martell and Ned had laid siege to Kings Landing with the aid of men from both Hoster Tully and Jon Arryn, while the famed Tywin Lannister had yet to even declare a side and was content to sit behind the walls of Casterly Rock. It was a shock to the besiegers during the spring of Kings Landing in 283 AC Spring, they had taken the late Ser Adamms Dragon Gate and the next morning, the sentries were mystified to see two figures walking down from the Red Keep and towards the besiegers.

Their mystification soon turned to surprise, then shock when they realized who they were. King Aerys Targaryen II, the Mad King was clapped in chains and gagged and behind him stood his son Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, the dragon knight grim faced and clad in his famous armor. Prince Rhaegar refused to answer the sentries questions, preferring to speak to Ned himself and when he did the interaction between the two was short. He told Ned how Aerys had planned to use Wildfire to set the city alight and deny the besiegers a chance to capture the royal family and himself and in even shorter words told Ned ''You will find her in the Tower of Joy.'' before being clapped in Irons and taken away with his father and family underguard.

While Robert celebrated his victory, Ned raced South to Dorne along with William Dustin, Mark Ryswell, Howland Reed, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassell and Theo Wull to finally rescue Lyanna and bring her back. If they had thought it was going to be easy, they were surely proved wrong when they encountered three of the Kingsguard there. Lord Commander Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent and the famed Sword of the Morning Arthur Dayne.

The iconic words we all know today were spoken between them before battle commenced. Martyn Cassell and William Dustin were the first to die to Lord Commander Gerold's blade, before Ethan Glover stoved his head in with his axe. Theo Wull and Mark Ryswell defended, attacked and counter attacked against Ser Oswell until when he ran his sword through Mark Ryswell and found it trapped in his falling body, was cut down by Theo Wull. Ned Stark and Howland Reed however, were doing their best to bring down the Morning Star but this proved tricky. When Howland overextended on his thrust, Ser Arthur was kick to slap the blade away and then bring Dawn down in a shining arc and kill him in one blow. Ned charged forwards, hoping to catch the Sword of the Morning off guard, but Ser Arthur calmly retreated parrying and turning aside Ned's blows while Theo Wull and Ethan Glover tried to circle around to get behind him. They had no need to do so however, when an unlucky swing of Dawn by Ser Arthur allowed Ned to parry, charge in with his shoulder and stab the downed knight when he lay upon the ground.

While Theo and Ethan Glover arranged the bodies outside, Ned charged up the stairs only to find his sister cradling an infant in her arms and a sheen of sweat on her face. She told Ned how he was the son of Rhaegar and only asked one thing, a promise that Ned would protect the boy before she passed. While Ned stared down at the sleeping infant he realized he had a choice. Claim the child as his own, as a bastard or tell Robert the truth and potentially risk having the child killed and bring Roberts scorn down upon him.

Swearing Theo and Ethan to secrecy, the trio returned North with the bodies of their comrades and a friendship between them strengthened by a secret and facing death together. They accompanied Ned as far as Winterfell before continuing onto their own lands and left to enter Winterfell with the child known as Jon Snow in his arms and to face a wifes fury!

--- Maestar Lewyn of the Citadel.

 

[Zamarak500]

So, Ned Stark returns from the rebellion. Let see how he does from here.

 

[stnylan]

Let us see how the pack does.

And welcome to the forums.

 

[TheLionThatRoaredFire]

[Thank you guys! I always loved reading the AAR's and after playing this wild game as the Starks and having some time off, I just wanted to get back into writing and post it! I'd love to include screenshots too of characters and events, but I didn't take some during the actual game and I don't think my laptop would react too well had I tried to do it haha. Can always try next time though.]

In the years after Roberts Rebellion, the houses of Westeros enjoyed both peace and prosperity that was aided by a good Spring and for Eddard Stark, he considered it one of the brighter times in his life as was told to me by his loyal Maestar, Maester Wyman. He spent his time in the North solidifying himself as the Lord of Winterfell, going from feast to feast, tourney to tourney and for the time being he was left alone by Robert in the South who had no need of advice from him (but I must mention here that he had need of Neds money, asking for a loan of 250 gold pieces which Ned loyally gave). While Catelyn Tully did not appreciate having Jon Snow in Winterfell, she tolerated his presence in a way and both Jon and Sansa got along as well as two natrual-born siblings might have and for that Ned was thankful. His brother, Benjen married a girl of the Ryswell's Barbrey and together the two would later have a son named Brandon III, who would later become the Commander of Moat Cailin, a position he inherited from his father Benjen.

In 288 AC however, tragedy had struck the Stark family and the citizens of Winterfell. A plague had seemed to rush through the area and many were left sick, dying or dead and amongst the sick were Eddard Stark, Sansa Stark and Catelyn Stark. The young bastard Jon was spared the sickness and all he could do himself was watch his family grow sicker and sicker.

Perhaps through the will of the Old Gods (or the care of a Maester I would argue), Ned managed to pull through the plague and survive but the same could not be said for Catelyn Stark or their daughter, young Sansa who both died within hours of each other. With no clear heir now, other than his brother Benjen, Ned consulted with both the Lords of the North and Benjen himself before sending a letter to King Robert. The premise of the letter was simple and no time was wasted in it's construction, nor in getting the message across. Ned wished to legitimize the bastard and make him heir of Winterfell and in a few short words back from the King himself, Jon Snow became Jon Stark of Winterfell.

With only each other for company, Ned took on the role of being a tutor for the young Starks Jon and Brandon and groomed the two of them for command. Jon excelled in his lessons when it came to sparring and jousting and even dealing with people, while Brandon was the thinker of the two. Where Jon could did not excell, Brandon excelled in being a tactician and would prefer to sit in the Weirwood grove with his books rather than spar and Ned, for the next ten years remained unmarried.

When the year of 294 came upon them and a mild Winter passed, a raven arrived from Kings Landing asking for Ned to come South where a meeting of the Lords of Westeros was to take place and a catch up between the old friends was needed. Leaving Winterfell in the capable hands of his brother, he journeyed with his son to Kings Landing where he met with Jon Arryn and King Robert and introduced Jon to the both of them, however the introduction between Jon and Robert was conducted with bated breath as Ned waited to see if his old friend would know who he was, but Robert only clapped him on the shoulders and bid him welcome.

The feast was said to be one of the grandest held during King Roberts reign and during the feasting, Ned found himself beside Lord Oswell Stokeworth and both found a friendship in one another. After the feasting was concluded, the real reason for the calling of Lord's to Kings Landing was revealed. King Robert wished to invade Tyrosh and add it his kingdom. The room was filled with a stunned silence as the Lords regarded one another, they did not know whether he was serious or not and the Lords were invited to speak their piece on the matter. Lord Commander Jaime Lannister was the first to speak, yet he was met with boos and jeers from the crowd and it seemed that things were not going well for Roberts planned invasion of Tyrosh until the Hand of the King Jon Arryn rose and spoke in favor of it and the dams of approval were burst open with the Lords cheering their support. But Ned Stark remained quiet in all of this, he did not want to go to war again and certainly not with one of the free cities of Volantis. A deal was struck between Robert and Ned however. If Ned supported Robert in this war, then Robert would marry the Crown Princess Argella Baratheon, daughter of Queen Obara Sand to Ned when she came of age and Ned agreed. The North went to war once again.

And so in the spring of 294, Robert declared war on Tyrosh and Robert did what he did best, he led a vanguard of five thousand to their capital just as he had done during his own rebellion, charging blindly ahead and while he besieged Tyrosh, the Tyroshi did the same to Kings Landing only in greater numbers that were said to have reached into Thirty thousand or more. Robert could do nothing and only continue beseiging Tyrosh and only hope that the siege of Kings Landing could be broken and it was broken by his loyal friend, Lord Paramount Eddard Stark.

Were it nor for Jon Arryn and Oswell Stokeworth, Ned would have been outnumbered and as it was the scales were just tipped even. With a roar ''FOR KING ROBERT!'' Ned led the vanguard in, screaming Northmen following behind wishing to get their own taste of Tyroshi blood, while Jon Arryn led the knights of the Vale on the left hoping to loop around and catch them in the side while Oswell Stokeworth led his own men and a mix of Northmen and Valemen to provide support to Lord Eddard.

While the men of Westeros were giving battle to the invaders, the same was happening on the other side of the world in Tyrosh but on a much smaller, yet bloodier scale. Robert drunk on battle had scaled the ladders and wielding his hammer swung it round and round into his enemies laughing all the while and gained the moniker, ''The Laughing Storm''. It was only when reinforcements from the city threatened the King was he pulled back screaming into the enemy camp and giving the people of Tyrosh another day to prepare for the assault and hope that Archon Moreo would return.

The Battle of Kings Landing raged for several hours, each side refusing to give until Jon Arryn in a self-sacrificng move led a charge, hoping to take out the Archon but he was sadly overwhelmed and killed by a member of the Sellsword infantry Captain Malaquo. It was then that Tywin Lannister had decided to enter the fray.

Aided by men of the Westerlands, they reinforced Ned and Oswells armies, giving them the vital push to break the army of Tyrosh and scatter them around Westeros and Oswell remarked to Ned later that ''I have never been so glad to see a Lannister as I am now.''.

For the next few months, it was a repetition of chase the Tyroshi, engage in battle. Break them or retreat and then continue on until a truce was negotiated between King Robert and Archon Moreo. Hostages were exchanged and a funeral held for the Hand of the King Jon Arryn. With no surviving heirs, Ned was not only named Warden of the East, but knighted by the King himself for breaking the siege. Tywin Lannister however, asked only for support from King Robert but when he was besieged by his own brother Gerion, help from the crown never arrived.

Ned returned North to continue the education of his son and nephew and the son of Theo Wull, Rickard Wull. In 298 AC, Ned married the Princess Argella Baratheon in a wedding that was attended by nearly all of Westeros and Ned once again found happiness in his new wife who later give him twins in 299 AC, Robb Stark named in honor of his Grandfather and Jocelyn Stark, named in honor of the man who raised her father and protected him from the Mad King Aerys.

When Ned asked for the money owed for him from King Robert, Robert only waved his notions aside and instead offered him the position of Master of Coin but Ned, not knowing whether the position was a jab at him never getting the money owed to him declined and instead remained in Winterfell, only occasionally being called to act as Commander where his Lord Jon reigned in his absence.

For while the Starks had dealt with the Kings problems in the past, it was only time they dealt with their own problems personally in the North...

--- Maester Lewyn of the Citadel.

 

[Zamarak500]

Wow. And I though the cannon story looked bad. Jon's dead, Tyrosh managed to actually siege King's Landing (Good job, Robert) and now Ned is broke. And I feel it won't get better...

 

[stnylan]

Well things could be worse. Of course they could be a whole lot better as well.

 

[TheLionThatRoaredFire]

[I wish it had gotten better haha!]

Chapter Three-

By 312 AC Ned had been acting as Justicar for Robert, a position that wasn't as fulfilling or helpful as he had originally thought it would be. Jon Stark was the acting regent of Winterfell in his stead, now married to a Vale girl Jeyne Royce and together, they were expecting their first child. In some circles however it was whispered quietly that Jon found comfort in the beds of men and when he returned to his wife, it was only out of duty and never passion. Robb the youngest remained in the Winterfell with his brother and was quickly becoming the pride of not just his family, but the whole North. He had taken to the sword naturally and was polite, got on with others and during the games that were played with the other wards and children of Winterfell, he was always the leader. Jocelyn meanwhile was in the south in Riverrun and a ward of Lord Edmure Tully, who hoped to make a match of her and his son Brynden II when they were both of age.

For both Ned and Robert, the years were finally starting to catch up with them. Their hair had greyed and the mornings were not quiet as easy as they had remembered, Ned in particular suffering from an old wound that left him needing the aid of a walking stick but for Robert ''The Laughing Storm'', he still had his strength and a hunger for battle, often leading armies himself against would be rebellions with his son and heir to the throne Steffon, whom he was teaching what it truly meant to be a king.

The first worrying letter from the North to Ned was about Robb. Jon had written how the boy hardly slept at night and when he did, he had odd dreams but the most prominent amongst them a man with a gilded beard by the sea cutting down a gate emblazoned with a wolf. But the dreams were the least of his problems, a Direwolf had taken to following Robb whenever he had left the castle and currently resided in the weirwood grove and for the time being remained docile to all and were it not for it's huge size, they would have regarded it as a playful puppy from his interactions with Robb who had taken to calling the beast ''Frostfang.''

Then in 313 AC, Martyn Stark was born to Jon and Jeyne and Ned felt a rush of emotions when he read the news about his grandchild. The joy was not to last however as he soon passed away from an illness and left the mother distraught and Jon withdrawn in himself. Ned himself threw himself into the works of the Justicar and in the next month as he readied himself for another long day, a sheaf of papers were slid under his door.

Who they were from he did not know, but as he cracked open the wax seal and read what was contained his blood ran cold. The papers implicated Roose Bolton in a plot to overthrow him and take the seat of power in the North within the next few months. The last news he had received from Winterfell had been over half a month ago and he did not know who else was involved in the plot and as he confided to his brother Benjen, he knew now why the God's had blessed Robb with the dreams and a wolf. To protect him from the Boltons, yet what Bolton had a gilded beard?

He sent a raven to Winterfell to Jon, a letter to the Reeds of the Greymarshes asking to accompany his messengers through and he waited with baited breath to see whether the great keep had fallen or not. When a raven returned from the Reeds of how they saw no siege encampment around Winterfell and their riders had ridden in to give orders to Jon could he relax. The orders were simple. Raise the levies amongst the Stone Shore, Moat Cailin, Winterfell and call for aid from Theo Wull, Ethan Glovers son John and the son of the Greatjon who had since passed, the Smalljon Umber.

When men were sent to arrest Roose Bolton he had reacted how Ned knew he would. He denied entry to his would be jailers and declared war against the Starks and those in the North waited with baited breath. It seemed Roose's allies had decided not to follow him to war.

Young Robb had tried to join his brothers host as he made ready to leave for war, but Jon only laughed and ruffled his hair (gently for Frostfang was watching) and said ''Should I come back defeated little brother, then by all means you can have the honor of leading the next host.'' and so Jon led his allies to war.

Not all amongst Roose's court agreed with him going to war. His son Ethan Bolton stayed out of the conflict, while his bastard Ramsey was more than happy to deal with the legitimized bastard Jon himself and lead the majority of his fathers host to the Hornwood. Jon's own host had gotten there first and to Ramsey's eyes, they were celebrating and even the guards for that night had their backs to the outside world and instead were focused only on the celebrations.

Ramsey's scouts reported to him they could only count twelve hundred men to his three thousand and the only banners in attendance were the Direwolf of the Starks and the Glovers fist. Ramsey saw his chance to win the war in one fell swoop and led his cavalary in a charge, he and his men howling as they raced past the shocked-still scouts and cut them down and it was only when he got closer to the camp did he realize with a frightening pang of shock in his stomach it was a trap. The gates to the palisade were raised and the horses in the front speared themselves. From the right, the Wulls charged down on their trusty Garrions shrieking and waving their axes alongside the Umbers and the remainder of the Starks forces caught them in the left. For Ramsey Snow's first attempt at war, it had not gone how he had thought it would and he had lef tthe way open for a clear march to attempt a siege of the Dreadfort and to deal with Roose should he make the mistake of showing himself to the larger army. Within a few months, Roose had surrendered to Jon Stark and willingly went to the dungeons where he remained for several years alongside Ramsey Snow until Jorah Mormont petitoned Lord Eddard to be more merciful and the Leech Lord was raised back to his old position, with an oath never to rebel again. Ramsey did not share the same fate and died in the dungeons of Winterfell.

Ned resigned from his position of Justicar after Jon had secured the North and returned o Winterfell, just as a harsh Winter had set in. Not as young as he once was, Ned was soon confined to his bed in a coughing fit and in the months that passed, his conditions worsened. There was news from the North among the Wildlings that the Horn of Winter had been blown and the wall seemingly collapsed. The Tyroshi were preparing for a campaign of war and with them Pentos was preparing to fight against the invading Khas from the Great Green Sea.

Calling his children to his side one last time, Ned expressed how proud he was in each of them and the next morning, Maester Mikal found him cold in his bed and Lord Paramount Jon Stark set about the funeral arrangements.

No sooner had Ned been laid to rest in the crypts of Winterfell had Jon received a raven from Kings Landing, he was no longer the Warden of the North, that title went to Edmure Tully in the South and the debt between houses Stark and the Crown had died with Ned, leaving Jon with a bitter taste in his mouth.

But as the Winterfell settled for another night in the cold, they were unaware of two Knights armed and armored, one carrying the banner of the Laughing Storm and the other the plain white of the Kingsguard making their way to them through the freezing cold and harsh storms.

With both Ned Stark and Jon Arryn gone, the last member of their rebellion all those years ago, Robert Baratheon was free to do as he please...

--- Maester Lewyn of the Citadel.
[Think for the next post I have a general outline of how I'm going to write it, Maester Lewyn will be taken a break for now!]

 

[stnylan]

Well, on a level it sounds as if the latter part of Ned's life was rather unsatisfying.

And I like how this episode ends, just enough of a hint of threat to make a good cliffhangar without being too on the nose.

 

[TheLionThatRoaredFire]

Chapter four - 314 AC.

The hand that tapped his shoulder woke Jon with a start. His eyes flew open and his hand reached for Ice, only for it to connect with something solid and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see his chamberlain peering down at him with a candle in hand. Jeyne shifted behind him in the bed and Jon raised a finger to his lips, slinking out of the bed as quietly as he could and dressed. When he met Jory outside of his chambers he laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

''Whats the matter Jory? News from the North?'' The hand around his shoulder tensed as he thought about the tragedy of the wall. How the whole thing had come down he didn't know and it seemed nobody else knew the answers, only the Wildling's in the North who were free to move South and pillage were it not for the Nights Watch.

''Kingsguard, my lord. Two.'' Jory's eyes flittered down the corridor once and then back to meet Jon's eyes. ''Lord Commander Jaime and Ser Luthor Tarly.''

''Just the two? Did they say what they wanted?'' Jon dropped his hand and went back to buckling his sword around his waist as Jory shook his head. ''No, my Lord. Only that they had orders from the King for your eyes only.''

They made their way through the silent castle, occasionally catching glimpses of the falling snow outside. It was a harsher Winter then anybody had expected and it had no signs of ending, only of getting worse. When they passed from the chambers to the outside for a brief moment, Jon glanced into the yard and saw the stable doors open, a warm inviting light passing between the gap in the door and then he was back inside, trotting down stairs and into the Great Hall.

Jaime Lannister and Luthor Tarly lifted their eyes up from whatever had caught their attention in the first place and made no move to walk towards him, instead waiting for Jon to come to them and when he stopped the two opposing groups eyed one another up. Hands never straying far from swords.
''Will you take bread and salt?'' Jon inquired and all he received in return was a small from Ser Luthor and the Lord Commander to shake his head. ''We won't be staying that long I'm afraid. The King sent us on urgent business.''
''What business is that?'' Jon's eyebrow rose and it was Ser Luthor's turn to speak.
''The King requests your presence in King's Landing urgently, he sent us to act as your guard.'' Jon snorted in amusement and Ser Luthor lost his friendly smile. ''Pack warm clothes, Lord Stark. It's rather cold out.'' Jory bowed his head and hurried off to pack what would be needed for his Lord and the hall was reduced to an awkward silence. When he returned, he offered Ice to Jon who took it quietly and carried it with him to the doors alongside the Kingsguard.

Robb appeared before they left, his hair ruffled from sleep yet he had found the time to dress himself appropriately and as for Frostfang, there was no sign of him. Jon glanced at the two Kingsguard and back at his younger sibling. ''May I say my farewells?'' The two shared a look and the Lord Commander nodded, ''We're not monsters after all.'' And the door shut behind them.
''Where are you going?'' Robb took in Jon's appearance, heavily bundled for the weather outside and Ice in hand.
''Kings Landing, my presence is requested.'' Jon swallowed as a sudden pang of nervousness crept up from his stomach. ''You'll be acting as the Lord of Winterfell while I'm gone. Can I trust you to do that?''
Robb grinned in spite of the situation and did his best to clap Jon's shoulder. ''Of course you can, there'll be no problems while I'm in charge.''
Jon laughed and knelt to embrace his brother and before they pulled apart he whispered into Robb's ear, ''Should something happen to me go to Lord Mormont. He'll look after you, I promise.''

The fear was noticeable in Robb's eyes when he pulled away and he hesitated for a moment, before joining the Kingsguard outside. Refusing to look over his shoulder in case there were more goodbyes to be said.

*****

The journey to Kings Landing took several weeks and by the time they arrived, it had seemed the Winter was finally beginning to lessen. The streets of King's Landing were still empty by the time they arrived however and when Jon stopped to stare at the ancestral home of his fore-bearers, a chill ran down his spine and he took a reluctant step in. Offering Ice and his sword over to the Gold Cloak on duty before being led into the Throne Room.

The room was cast in darkness, lit only by torches on the arches and a pair of candles beside the Iron Throne, in which Robert himself was seated. For a man of fifty years, he still looked strong and imposing. His eyes never leaving Jon as he walked down the silent throne past the silent Kingsguard and then brought to a stop.
''Your Grace,'' Jon inclined his head. ''I am ever your humble servant.''
Silence.
Jon cleared his throat anxiously, ''May I.. inquire as to why I was summoned Your Grace?''
Silence was his answer. It was only broken by the sound of the Gold Cloak ascending the steps and offering Ice to the King, who reached out with wrinkled hands to take it gently, as if it were a newborn child he was being offered instead of the fabled sword.
''A fine sword. I thank you for bringing it with you on your journey South, Lord Snow.'' Robert's eyes lifted from the blade to look down at him and there was a coldness to them he had never seen before. ''Take him to the Black Cells.''
Jon gaped at the King, part of him refusing to believe what was happening and when he took a step forwards to protest the swords of the Kingsguard were ripped free and a punch to the back of his head brought Jon to his knees, Heartsbane resting against his throat. He was gripped on both arms and dragged backwards and he kicked his legs in an effort to get free. ''A trial by combat! I request a trial by combat for whatever crimes I have been brought here for!'' He shouted. But Robert only looked at him and Lord Commander Jaime laughed as the doors were shut and Jon dragged to his fate.

****
He had no idea how long he was in the Black Cells for. All that he knew was that occasionally someone would enter with bread and water and leave again, but the visits were infrequent and Jon resigned himself to his fate. Unknown to Jon however, the Winter had ended and he had languished in the cells for three years. Forgotten about and left there to die.

When unknown men to him entered the cell and Jon was forced to shield his eyes from their bright torches did he think that he was going to die that day. Instead they helped him up, whispering encouragements as they urged his failing body into the hallway and down a winding twist of corridors and then into Kings Landing himself. They put a bandage over his eyes, to filter in the sunlight and then he was on a boat. Time was passing quickly for Jon, sporadic bouts of blacking in and out and then awakening. When he awoke, he was in a bed staring at the roof of some chambers and although he had not seen them for several years, he recognized them as his own and with careful movements he climbed out of bed and into the hallway.

****
For the last few hours, the war council of the Northerners had raged on. Smalljon Umber wished to march South and do battle with King Robert for his injustice, while Willas Manderly insisted that they should do duty to their king and aid him in the war against the Tyrosh, where rumors of a large fleet bolstered by Sellswords was sailing to Westeros. Throughout this, the two Stark's who had called the meeting had yet to make any decision or voice their support to either side. The young regent, Lord Robb Stark looked every inch the Northern Lord. Stern expression, tall like his father and strong like his grandfather. Clad in leather and mail, while Brandon III sat beside him. Occasionally leaning forwards to whisper something into Robb's ear, the great wolf Frostfang lazing at their feet. No decision had been made when Lord Jon the Bastard as he was called in the South entered. Chairs were scraped back and the Lords cheered at his recovery, although he looked frail and weaker in the years he was away. He took the offered throne of Winterfell and sat and like his brother and cousin, he listened to the arguments.

In the end, his hand raised for silence and a quiet, expectant hush settled over the room. A fiery rage burned in his eyes as he lent forwards and uttered three croaky words.. ''Muster your men.'' The North would march south once again.

--- Maester Lewyn of Winterfell, 317 AC.

[Apologies if it's too long for anyone, I just couldn't seem to stop writing.]

 

[stnylan]

So what happened in those three years. I imagine we are about to find out

 

[guillec87]

subbed

 

[TheLionThatRoaredFire]

Chapter Five -
The whole realm was in upheaval. Tyrosh had invaded Tarth when no one had been expecting it and from there, they carved a path of ruin and destruction through the Stromland's led by the Archon Collio the Golden, ruthless compared to his last predecessor. Those unfortunate not to die to their blades were sent back to the Free Cities and sold as slaves and every day, more companies of Sellswords and men of the East joined under his banner. Robert and his armies were in a bad way. Aelric Baratheon (the son of Renly) was killed in the first battle fighting alongside the King's armies and both were soundly defeated, Robert forced to flee and give ground and the Stormlands passed to a boy not more than four years old, Garret Baratheon which left the Stormland's a husk of what it was, empty of people, burnt out farmlands and salted earth.

The Reach did their best to help their king but their own Lord was no tactician, instead of facing them in battle he instead preferred skirmishes, sending small parties of men in to raid and pillage their own camps before fleeing until in stroke of luck for the Tyroshi, Garth Tyrell was captured and held for ransom until the wars end.

The Westerlands were weakened from years of war between Lord of the rock, Tyrion Lannister against his own cousin Lancel with neither being able to gain a foothold and so an uneasy truce was held between Tyrion's loyalists and Lancel's.

The house of Arryn had died with no male heirs left to continue and so the house of Waynwood came to power. Yet the house of Waynwood preferred to sit out of the conflict as decreed by their Lord Yohn Waynwood claiming that fighting the Hillmen had taken all of his resources.

No help was to be expected from the North. When the Crown Loyalists lead by a Lord Willas Manderly and Richard Whitehill attempted to march South to join the King, they found their path blocked by Robb of Winterfell bolstered by ranks of Reedmen and Umber's. When asked to pass, Robb insisted that the only way they could pass was by beating him in single combat and then they could have his blessing to march South to fight. Richard Whitehill strode confidently into the duel and at the end of it only Robb Stark walked out, prepared to accept a new oath from Lord Willas.

The Rivermen and the Dornish were the only Lord Paramounts who supported King Robert against his failed invasion, which had turned into an invasion from the Tyrosh. Their own forces acted as rear guards and foragers engaging the smaller armies before being forced back by the bigger host who, after conquering the Stormland's and bolstering their own forces had their eyes set on the jewel that was King's Landing.

---
The Siege of King's Landing had been ongoing for several weeks now. The cream of the Gold Cloak's had been taken with Roberts army and now only boys and old men had been left to defend. There was no sport in it however, taking a city that only housed the peasants. But it was essential if he wanted to get to the Red Keep and capture Robert's own family, as well as the countless treasures inside that awaited Collio. But he was in a jolly mood that evening when he rode to the Dragon's gate and gave them a choice. He would pass through the city and leave everything untouched if the people of King's Landing opened the gates for him. No more men had to die in the siege and countless few of his own forces had. It was all lies, of course. When the gates open he would let loose his men and they were free to do as they pleased. He had heard the city housed a million citizens which would boost his own coffers were they sold into slavery.

That night, the Council of the Commons as it was to be called was held. From the proudest blacksmith to the lowest thief, the men and women gathered in the Sept of Baelor and argued on what was to be done. They had all heard the stories from the Stormland's and each wisely assumed that they would not receive preferential treatment for opening the gates and leaving the way clear for the Royal Family, no matter how doomed the situation looked. No, they insisted. They would fight the same as the great heroes fought for them all those many years ago, perhaps they might even win insisted the most optimistic of them. But they all knew deep down in their hearts that it was a futile battle. But damned would they be if the people of King's Landing surrendered meekly!

When dawn came and there was no sign of the gates opening, Archon Collio smiled. It had seemed that he was wrong about their spirits and even then he could see the silhouettes of Gold Cloaks on the wall and so he arranged his own battle lines. Siege towers creaking and ladders readied for what was sure to be an easy fight. The Goldcloaks would do their best to stem the tide of foreigners, their Lord Commander Thorne promised and then they would fall back to help the citizens of King's Landing, wielding swords, spears, wood axes, cudgels anything that could be used as a weapon. Even the women were out to fight, arranged on the roofs above the barriers below with cobblestones, slates and rocks to hand to throw down at the invaders. Everyone was doing their own part.

An hour after dawn, each side was ready. Weapons were clutched tightly and prayers whispered to God's to protect them, give them strength and when the horns blew both sides jolted in anticipation for what was to come. But the attackers never attacked. Tyroshi and Goldcloak's peered off into the rise beyond Kings Landing. Those with keen eyes could make out a wolf beyond average size staring down at the attackers. A rider joined the wolf, then another, more and more dotting the ridge until it was filled with thousands of Cavalry in the center and Infantry on the wings. The banners were brought up.. a Wolf on a green background, a giant breaking his chains, the leaping trout, a flayed man until it seemed the sky was filled with the banners of the North. The Goldcloaks cheered and the Tyorshi panicked, Archon Collio's head turned with wide eyed amazement and his golden beard moved with him. ''Get the cavalary in order! Quickly!'' He bellowed at his officers who ran to the horse lines, almost tripping over their feet. ''Where are my outriders? Why weren't we warned!'' He screamed again and turned to face the new threat. King's Landing could wait for later.

Lord Commander Thorne turned to his second and issued quick orders. Assemble in the street below, shields and spears in front and most importantly, inform the others of what was happening. It seems that they were saved.

---
Weeks in the saddle had returned much of Jon's former strength, but he was still weak. The armor weighed him down and he could hardly get into the saddle without assistance but thankfully his bannermen looked beyond that. They were thankful he was there to lead them again and most importantly, lead them south. They marched quickly and when they reached the Riverlands, they found the way to the Twins blocked by Edmure Tully himself and his son, Kermit Tully.

''What business do you bring to the Riverlands, Stark?'' Edmure croaked. He swayed unsteadily back and forth in saddle, dewy eyed with old age.
Robb and Brandon flanked Jon as he rode out himself, Frostfang the wolf not far behind. ''We march South to aid the King in his fight against the invaders.'' The Tullys exchanged a look and Edmure creased his eyes.
''How do we know you're not lying? That you're taking revenge against the King for his grievances on you?''
Jon gritted his teeth. Every moment spent talking here was another moment wasted. ''On my honor as a Stark, I swear to you I have no quarrel with Robert now. I only wish to help in our fight against the Invaders.''
Another look and muted conversation between the Riverlords before Edmure nodded waved his hand and the gates to the Twins slowly swung open. ''Their numbers are many down there, Lord Jon. My boy's have seen it for themselves. Far too many, even for you.''
Jon glanced behind him at the impatient ranks and then back again. ''We'll still fight none the less.'' He was surprised to find Edmure urge his horse to Jon's and grip his forearm stronger than what he thought for an old man. ''Then my son and the Riverlord's ride with you Stark, or those that we can spare.''

When the army passed through the twins, three thousand Rivermen were added to their numbers and bolstered the Stark host. Outriders were sent far and beyond with strict instructions not to engage unless they met smaller groups and thankfully, they met none until they were a day from King's Landing. Surprise was going to be their advantage, Jon explained. Any outriders that they sent out behind them had to be taken care of lest the Tyroshi were informed. Robb, Kermit, Roger Cerwyn and Brynden Mallister were given the men needed and they rode off into the night, not returning until the next morning grim faced and bloody. It was done.

Jon stared at the cavalry ranks coming together and he realized with a thrill of fear they outnumbered his own number of cavalry. The only thing held in his favor was the ranks were disorganized and many men only half armored they weren't expecting a threat such as this. He yanked on his reins and turned to his commanders, they all shared the same look. Frightened, excited, unable to stand still and that energy was in the ranks of men around them. It seemed the only one who remained calm was Frostfang who hadn't moved from the spot, gazing hungrily at the enemy.
''Domeric, take the left wing with me. We'll try to force our way into their ranks and push them back with a shieldwall. Small Jon, Robb I want you take care of that Cavalry or at least thin down their numbers. If you keep them busy for long enough we'll have a better fighting chance. Rodrik, Kermit. You have the right. Do with it as you please, I want to see you all at the end of it so please, no foolish risks.'' They laughed at that and Jon couldn't help but smile himself. He reached out to stop the Small Jon and nodded at Robb who had taken place at the head of the Cavalry, sword in hand. ''Look after him for me, won't you?'' The Small Jon grinned, ''That I will Lord Stark, that I will.''

Jon had taken his place at the head of the infantry and dismounted, his legs shaking like a newborn calf when movement caught his eye. Robb and Frostfang at the head of the Cavalry had moved, the ground shaking beneath their feet as thousands of horses moved to follow. The Tyroshi cavalry answered in turn, their own shoddy ranks trotting, then cantering and Jon realized he was moving with the infantry, feeling as if his heart would burst from his chest at any given movement. Someone jostled his shoulder and he looked. Robb and the Direwolf had cleared the Cavalry in a mad gallop and they were struggling to catch up the further he got. He was a lone man racing towards certain death and Jon's mouth gaped. He was going to die.

They hadn't taken into account the Direwolf who had a burst of speed and raced ahead of Robb into the Cavalry ranks alone. Their horses might have been trained for battle but the scent of the creature amongst them drove them into a white eyed fury as he leapt and took a horse and rider down. Horses jostling to get out of his way, bashing into each other, kicking and bucking furiously. The Northern Cavalry hit them like a wall and the screams of men and horses, above the ding of battle reached them.

Jon had no idea how long he was stood in the shield wall for, each steep was torturous. Using his sword and shield as a weapon, to give himself space but it wasn't working. He was unused to battle in such a weak state and soon found himself at the rear, a squire leading his horse to him and pushing him into the saddle. He took several gulps from a water battle and looked over the battle. The right wing was taking the brunt of it, being steadily pushed back while their own Cavalry was locked in a deadly fight, neither side willing to give ground. The gates to King's Landing had opened and the Gold Cloak's had moved out, using their pikes to force any at the back towards the fighting and then Jon saw him. A man within a knot of others, waving his hand, pointing and shouting. The Archon Callio.

''Lance, quickly.'' Jon snapped at his guards and they dutifully handed one to him and climbed onto their own horses. They rode around the conflict and into the camp now long forgotten. His arm ached and the lance waved the closer he got in a canter. But if he could take him out him out then he could break the army. Closer they got and they were still unaware of the danger.

The Javelin punched into Jons stomach and he was flung from the saddle with a gasp, landing on the hard ground. His bodyguards tried to form a ring around him, to get him out of there but arrows and swords cut them from their saddles and when they were dead and gone, Jon was grabbed and dragged in front of the Archon who dismounted from his horse. His golden beard glittered in the sun and a gilded sword was in his hand.
''Who are you?'' He asked, head tipping to one side.
''Lord.. Lord Jon Stark of Winterfell.'' Jon struggled to gasp. He could feel the javelin point in his stomach and every movement sent a jolt of pain through his body.
''Lord Jon Stark,'' He mused thoughtfully. ''Will the King pay for you, Lord Jon? Or your family? Are you worht the ransom?
Jon forced his eyes open and focused his gaze on the Archon surrounded by smiling captains. Their horses stamping their feet nervously. ''The King wo-'' The Archons sword cut his words off as it was buried into his chest, between the plates sewn into the leather and Jon gasped in memory of a dream Robb shared with him years ago, a man with a golden beard before the darkness overtook him and he slumped. The Archon turned with a bloody sword in hand to polite clapping and cheering and he bowed theatrically, struggling to climb into his saddle.

He took a moment to survey the fight. Their cavalry had all but been routed and the Gold Cloaks were pushed back into the city. Things had no proceeded the way he thought. His horse whinnied and reared in a panic, several following suit and he frowned. ''What is wrong with these damn beasts?'' The answer was soon revealed in the form of Frostfang who leapt in the air and took his confidant, Illyrio from his saddle.
Collio gaped in shock, the Northmen were upon them and he witnessed a giant of a man swing a sword around and nearly cut his bodyguard in half. They couldn't get their own horses under control and he screamed loudly as he was bucked off and hit the ground in a crumple. He laid there for a moment wheezing and when he went to stand a huge paw stepped on his chest and forced him back, staring wide eyed at the snarling above him and the boy beside him. ''Who are you? He won't hurt you, I swear.'' His eyes flittered between wolf and boy, struggling to get the words out.
''Archon Collio of Tyrosh, I am worth a Kingdoms ransom, I swear it! Please!'' He begged but the wolfs snarling only got louder until the boy commanded it to move back. He was not sure who he was more afraid of, the wolf or the giant man.
''I can pay, I swear to you I can Lord..?'' His hands were clasped in silent prayer.
''Lord Stark.'' Finished Robb and recognition filled the Archon's face, just before his head was cloven in with Robb's sword.

And with his death, so ended the siege of King's Landing.

 

[stnylan]

Robb is playing and interesting game here, and shows a true mettle for battle.

 

[TheLionThatRoaredFire]

[Just settled back into my first week so I haven't had much chance to write and when I was thinking of it, I was thinking of ways to adapt what happened in the game to some form of writing haha.]

Robb Stark and his forces were welcomed in King's Landing like no other. When they had raised the Archon's head impaled on a spear in his own siege camp, the sight of it seemed to destroy any resilience the invaders had and they broke. Scattering far and wide through Westeros in an attempt to get away from the Northern Barbarians, retreating back into the Stormland's where they could regroup, gather more support and perhaps attempt another attack but the prospect now seemed bleak with the Archon dead and the victory at King's Landing only spurred those who still lived in the Stormland's to fight back, aided by rebel groups and men from all over Westeros.

Robb for his part looked the ever conquering hero. Clad in bloody mail and leather, astride a magnificent bay destrier he stared stoically ahead and ignored the masses that crowded for his attention. The Winter Wolf, they called him. And he was surrounded by his faithful Lord's. Smalljon Umber, Jorah Mormont, Brandon Stark, Wylis Manderly, Kermit Tully and Ethan Bolton. He was greeted at the Red Keep by Ser Willem Crakehall of the Kingsguard who took him to the Throne Room where his uncle, Steffon Baratheon greeted him warmly. They spoke in hushed tones for the most part and we could only catch glimpses of the conversation. But one word that stuck out in particular to use was the word ''Ice.'' At it's mentioning Steffon shook his head and grabbed Robb by his shoulders, urging him not to act rashly but the words had no effect on the Winter Wolf. He only turned and left. Us loyal followers in his wake to follow him to where his fate would next take him. Rook's Rest. To his Grandfather, the Laughing Storm. Perhaps if we had known his intentions then we could have persuaded him to do something else. The loss of Jon still stung him and he wanted blood. But who's blood he wanted, we could never tell at the time. Only follow him when his army marched from King's Landing to the East.

-- Maester Lewyn of Winterfell.

Wylis Manderly was given the honor of taking Jon's body back to the North, to be laid in the crypts beneath Winterfell. It was an act that Maester Lewyn and cousin Brandon approved of he knew. He was removing a crown loyalist while giving him something that many would have fought to do. A tactic that was not missed by many. For more than a week they traveled, outriders sent ahead to warn them of any opposing armies and where the next suitable place to camp would be.

They found King Robert and his army west of Rook's Rest, the crowned stag flying high above the camp. Accompanying it were several lesser houses of the Crownland's and Robb made camp while he studied the ground with the Smalljon. He had picked a good spot, they reasoned. The King's tent itself was situated on a high hill and below that was a neat line of tents for his men and the Lord's that accompanied him. They were bid welcome to the royal tent itself where Robert sat in attendance with the High Septon, the Lord Commander Jaime Lannister, Ser Luthor Tarly, Ser Martyn Mooton, Ser Gregor Byrch and the High Septon himself who had accompanied the King in hopes of changing his lifestyle from something that had less debauchery to more of a religious calling.

''Robb,'' Roberts eyes lit up when he clasped his gaze on his grandson accompanied by the Smalljon, Maester Lewyn and Frostfang who sat the entrance to the tent. ''It's good to see you again boy. What bring's you here? Come to join me on pushing the Tyroshi out of here? Not that you'd need our help of course, would he? From what I hear he and his brother did a fine job without me.. a fine job. A shame about your brother.'' His eyebrow tipped. ''Though, it wouldn't have been the first time a sword had been inside of him.'' The camp erupted into laughter, the loudest lead by Ser Martyn. Unfortunately it was not as amusing to the Northmen and the High Septon as it was to the Kingsguard. Ser Martyn's laughter was cut short when Robb leapt forwards and grabbed him by the edge of his breastplate, throwing him to the corner of the tent where the sudden explosion of violence was met with the Kingsgaurd's ripping their sword's free and a rumbling growl from Frostfang.

Robert's eyes had a stony glint to them and he waved his Kingsguard down, leaning forwards in his chair. ''You might be my kin but I won't tolerate any of that fucking nonsense again, do you understand Lord Stark? Now what do you want?''
Robb spat at Martyn's feet as he stood, his face a beetrood red and turned his gaze on the King. ''I'm here to claim back what is rightfully mine. My fathers sword Ice.'' Robert studied him for a moment and shook his head.
''No. It belong's to the crown now, a blade worthy of House Baratheon. Remember the next time you come barging into my presence, that it's luck you remain a Lord Paramount. Now out.''
But Robb was not to be turned away so easily. ''You and my father were friends, your Grace. I am sorry, but if Ice is not returned to House Stark and my hands I will be forced t-''
''FORCED TO WHAT?'' Snapped Robert, his legendary temper rising to the surface. He rose from his chair, spittle flying from his lips. ''REMEMBER WHO YOU SPEAK TO BOY. I AM NOT THE DOTING GRANDFATHER YOU EXPECT ME TO BE, CHOOSE YOUR WORDS CAREFULLY OR BY THE SEVEN I SWEAR YOU WILL REGRET IT.''
''Forced to make war for it to be returned my hands.'' Robb finished. His heart was thumping painfully in his chest but he did not move, he didn't want to move.
''Get out of my sight.'' Robert snapped. ''You have until dawn tomorrow to rethink what you had said today. OUT!''

Under the watchful gaze of the Kingsguard, they left. ''I hope you now what you're doing, Robb.'' Grumbled the Smalljon as they left. ''But I'll follow you to the frozen lands and back if I must.'' When the news came to prepare for battle the next morning, the men were left confused, fearful and worried. Why were they making war on the King and his armies in the first place? Would they be traitors? And did the Winter Wolf have what was needed to lead them to safety in the end. For hours they argued into the night over the best course of action. Kermit Tully insisted that he could not fight the King but he would remain as a rear guard to the Starks. A futile gesture of support that Robb accepted. When the hour of the wolf struck, they had all finalized on a plan. One of Robb's own thinking that they hoped would get them through this. Jorah Mormont would lead the van. Ethan Bolton the left and the Smalljon the left. Robb would remain behind the vanguard with a small force of cavalry. Those that wouldn't be busy engaging the King's own cavalry at least and when they were done, they told their captains what was to be done who passed it onto the fighting men of the army. In both camps, men prayed to whatever God's they worshipped that they would make it through the fighting should it come.

-----

At dawn, the ever pious High Septon himself walked into the Northerners camp. He found Northerners preparing swords and axes, readying horses and having a last meal. At the center he found Robb himself astride his chestnut Destrier and Frostfang at his feet. His faithful cousin Brandon by his side.
''Lord Paramount Stark, the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Protector of the Realm, coronated by the se-''
''Get on with it.'' Snapped Robb, drawing chuckles from the men around him.
''The King requests that you hand command of your army over to him, before more blood is spilled. My Lord.''
The silence grew from seconds into minutes and the Septon stepped from foot to foot anxiously. ''Your answer my l-''
''Shh.'' Robb stared off into the distance, a smile decorating his features.
''My lord the King possesses a short temper an-'' As if to demonstrate his point, the horns blew from King Robert's camp and the sound of marching was carried by the breeze.
The High Septon gaped in fear. He was caught in enemy territory and took a step forwards to implore with Robb, only stopped by a snarling Frostfang when he got too close.
''I'm afraid while I was deliberating handing control of my army to his grace, I lost track of the time. You'll have to remain here of course, but you have my word no harm will come to you. Look after him Maester Selwyn.'' I was told and Robb cantered down the hill followed by streams of cavalry. In these late hours, thinking of the High Septon's face still bring's a smile to mine. ''Cyvasse?'' I offered him.

Maester Lewyn of the Citadel.

-----
King Robert's army streamed across the ground, shouting and roaring. Worked to a blood frenzy but there was no sign of the King himself. The Northerners waited, the only movement on their side the stamping of anxious horses. The center stood firm, shields raised high to repel the attackers and archers thumbed the flights on their arrows. Ready to do their day of work. A nod from Robb himself when they came into range and pulling their strings back, their arrows were loosed into the mass of men, greeted by arrows from the King's side. They found death as they fell into those waiting below and then both sides collapsed with a dull ''boom'' that seemed to echo for miles. The distant ring of battle catching Robb above the infantry. Patience was the key here and he was determined not to destroy his careful plans because of nervousness.

An hour passed and the battle raged, bit by bit the Northerners were being pushed back and Kermit Tully's men begged his leave so they could go down there. They had made friends with the Northerners and it didn't sit right with them that they had to sit and watch while they were slaughtered. But Kermit only shook his head and gritted his teeth.

The second hour passed and was announced with the blowing of a war horn from Robb's side. The center ranks peeled away and the Crown's forces sensed a victory when they horn for retreat sounded but the first two ranks held firm. Then, the center broke and the men peeled into the side, creating something akin to a road down the center. The men poured into the break eagerly but they found the sides blocked off, only the center clear and it was only when the cavalry charging down the center caught their attention did they realize what it was. A trap. They turned to flee but found their way of retreat blocked by other's eager to continue the slaughter and the cavalry crashed into them, then through them. Men chopping left and right with sword and axe, mace and lance as the momentum of their charge carried them through and the center blocked again.

Robb pulled on the reins excitedly. The damage to their center was left reeling and the shouts and cheers from his own side only goaded him on. ''Follow me! Another charge!'' He roared and raised his bloody sword. Horses stamped their feet around them and as they moved as one to attack the rear, did they not see what was happening. His horse shrieked in pain as the lance passed into it's chest and Robb was thrown from his saddle. On the ground he was only aware of horses charging around him, the sounds of men fighting and Frostfang snapping and snarling. A distant shout of ''FOR THE KING!'' and then he was pulled up onto his feet by Brandon.

They had forgotten about the reserve and the Crown's forces had made us of that. A mixture of horses and men, they had charged into Robb's smaller forces lead by the King and Kingsguard. He was pushed back onto Brandon's horse and held the reins dumbly. His ears were ringing and he was aware Brandon was shouting. ''Back to the command tent Robb, we need to retreat now.''
''But Frostfang.. you..'' Robb mumbled, spitting blood as his senses returned.
''He'll be fine, we'll be fine. But you need to go Ro-'' The passing riders mace made quick work of Brandon's helm as he passed and Robb gaped as his cousin dropped lifeless to the floor.
''Brandon!'' He shouted uselessly and turned to find his attacker, but he was already gone. The cavalry were fighting back. Trying to get to Robb and Frostfang was being held at bay by pikemen, his body dotted with small cuts as his lunges were cut short.

He felt an overwhelming urge to flee, but he pushed that down when he saw the antlered helmet ahead. The hammer swung around and round, crashing into men and horse to send them flying from the force of the blows. Robb leapt from the horse, sword and shield in hand and charged through the fighting. Childhood stories of his father ringing in his ears. Robert however saw him coming and swung the hammer around, crashing into Robb's shield and sending him flying. Splinters of wood peppering his face as he fell. He gasped for breath, his arm felt numb and he couldn't close it into a fist and at the last minute he rolled as the hammer came down, creating a dent in the earth where his head was seconds ago.

''Come on boy! Let's see what your father taught you.'' Beckoned Robert and came at him swinging his hammer. Round and round it went, Robb ducking and swaying left and right to find it. The hammer was being used as if it was made of wood instead of heavy steel and Robb had no chance to even swing his own sword, all his concentration on dodging the heavy blows. It all came to a crashing halt when Robert swung and Robb slipped in the mud. The hammer came down and Robb raised his sword on instinct, the heavy steel breaking and pieces of it scattering to the wind, leaving Robb with a useless hilt.

He reached for the dagger at his side as Robert raised his hammer a final time and Robb realized he couldn't move. This was the end for him. Behind him the two Kingsguard were white angels of death, cutting down those that tried to come for his aid and Frostfang himself was surrounded breathing heavily as the heavy steel came closer and closer.

Robert was never good at defending. It was odd that his fathers words would come to his head in the last moment and then it clicked in his head. Robert wasn't a man to defend, he was a man to attack. Robb leapt from the ground the dagger in hand and plunged it into Roberts armpit and the hammers descent was cut short. The figure stumbled back, blood pumping in gushes from the wound in his armpit and Robb stared dumbly. The hammer dropping seemed to catch the Kingsguards attention and one cursed, disengaging to catch the King and drag him backwards. Those who saw it could only stare as the King was dragged from the battlefield and the Pikemen keeping the direwolf at bay were so focused on their task that they didn't notice until Robb plunged his dagger into ones back and pushed him away, leaping at the next in line. Frostfang used the moment to leap clear and then charge but by the time he did, the Crowns Forces were in full retreat. If their King and his Kingsguard were retreating why should they remain and bare the consequences?

When noon passed, the battlefield was left empty but for the victors who could only cheer and congratulate each other on surviving the Kings attack.

------

The camp was silent as I passed through it. Despite winning a victory, there was no celebration to be had for the losses were many. Robb had sent me to the Kings camp, to see if I could be any help in healing him and when I left the debates were furious as to why they should help him after how he had repaid House Stark and of course, the actions of the day.

When I reached the King's tents he was surrounded by the three surviving Kingsguard. Ser Martyn Moore had been killed retreating with his brothers and I ignored their stony looks as I approached the king, the Septon praying for his recovery. It was not a good sight, the King was pale and sickly looking but his eyes never left as I approached. He knew he was dying and waved his good arm to bring me closer.

''Will you write my last wishes, Maester? Before I pass on from this world?'' He whispered and I nodded. ''Of course, Your Grace. It would be my honor.''
Robert wetted his lips and I had to lean in close to hear him speak. ''I, King Robert of the House Baratheon wish to put word to paper my final wishes. Robb Stark shall receive Ice back, I ask of my son, the soon-to-be King Steffon. But when Ice is returned to it's rightful owners, I ask that he avenge my death by engaging the Stark in single combat and give the honor of Lord Paramount to another.'' When I nodded to let him know that I had written down his words, he closed his eyes with a smile and I turned to leave. Only to be stopped by the Lord Commander Jaime.
''What did he say? Let us read his final orders.'' He demanded, a hand clutched around the sword at his side.
It was my own turn to wet my lips as I read from the parchment held in my shaking hands. ''I, King Robert of the House Baratheon wish to put word to paper my final wishes. Robb Stark shall receive Ice back, I ask of my son the soon-to-be King Steffon. When Ice has returned his hands, I also ask that he is allowed to return North with his armies when the threat of Tyrosh is dealt with and not be held accountable for my death.''

--- Maester Lewyn of Winterfell.

 

[stnylan]

Maester Lewyn - you devious old devil you.