Author's Note: Update 2 of 2.

So we come back to Jon in this chapter who will get a bit of good news. Afterwards we will go to Sarsfield where Robb currently is with his army. As such we have a time skip of one month since the events of last chapter. Enjoy

Chapter 16

Sarsfield

Jon

"OPEN THE GATE!" a guardsman bellowed out from the gatehouse as Jon walked into the courtyard. Riverrun has been teeming with activity over the last few days in preparation of King Eddard's return. Jon has been spending his time training with Grenn and Pyp, and occasionally sparring with Arya when she was not sparring with Nymeria Sand. The second daughter of Prince Oberyn had made a good friend for Arya, and much to Jon's surprise Sansa had taken to speaking with her as well. The elder daughter of the Red Viper, Obara Sand, was usually training with her spear, showing off her skill. A couple of the Riverrun garrison had made japes until Obara challenged one foolish guardsman to a fight and floored him within a minute. Since then none of the garrison made japes about her. Jon found Obara's skill with her spear to be quite impressive.

A few days ago a raven had arrived from Harrenhal with word that Eddard and Catelyn were returning. The message also brought ill news; Catelyn's sister and nephew were dead, young Lord Robert murdered and Lady Arryn dead by her own hand. Jon broke the news to the girls as gently as possible, and Sansa had wept while Arya was just angry. He got them to agree to not say anything to their grandfather; the last thing that Lord Tully would want to hear was the murder of one of his grandsons as well as the suicide of his youngest daughter. Now he was stood waiting as the gate opened and the drawbridge was lowered over the moat. A minute later Jon saw his uncle ride through with his wife on a horse beside him. Catelyn was dressed in black, a sign of her mourning the deaths of Lady Arryn and little Lord Robert. Eddard was wearing his crown, armour and cloak, with Ice secure in its scabbard and strapped to his saddle. Behind them came Theon and another lad that Jon did not know; Theon had his longbow over his back with a quiver of arrows hanging from his belt and was dressed in boiled leather, while the other lad had a longsword and was dressed in steel plate. After them came a dozen or so other riders.

Jon watched as Ser Robin Ryger approached his uncle slowly and bowed to him as he dismounted his horse. Eddard exchanged words with the guard captain before turning to help Catelyn from her horse. Jon hung back with Grenn and Pyp to his right and Sam to his left, watching as Sansa and Arya approached. To Jon's relief Arya had agreed to wear a dress (albeit reluctantly), so he knew that she would not be getting an earful from her mother. After the girls approached their mother and embraced her Jon began to walk over to Eddard. Theon came striding over to them, a serious look in his eyes for a change.

"Hey Snow," he said. Jon bit down on a retort before he responded.

"Theon," he managed before looking at the armoured lad. "Who's that?" Theon looked at the man and sighed.

"That's our new Lord of the Vale," he answered. "Harrold Arryn. Well, he was Harrold Hardyng before your father named him an Arryn, after... well, after what happened to the Queen's sister and nephew." He looked back at Jon and sighed loudly. "I try not to think about it too much. Makes me glad your father's got me learning more about my own people." A small smile appeared on Theon's face then, but before he could say another word Eddard called him over. Theon turned around and made his way to him while Jon followed at a distance. While Eddard spoke with Theon Jon turned to face the girls and their mother. He watched them as Catelyn spoke to Arya about something or other with Sansa standing by quietly. A cough from beside him brought his attention to Lord Harrold who was standing beside him.

"You are King Eddard's son I take it?" he asked. Jon was quite surprised by the young lord taking notice of him, but quickly recovered.

"Yes, I am my lord," he answered. Lord Harrold looked him up and down as if judging him.

"You don't look much like a prince to me," he said. Jon suppressed a sigh then as he had an idea of where this conversation was going.

"That'll be because I am not a prince," he told the lord. "I am Jon Snow. The King's bastard son." As Jon suspected Lord Harrold seemed put off by that and had taken a very slight step back.

"Oh," he said. "Well then... I must go and see to the King." With that Lord Harrold turned around and walked back to where Eddard stood. Jon turned around to face Grenn who had stepped closer to him.

"What a stuck up cunt," Grenn muttered quietly to the young lord's retreating back. Jon let out a slow breath.

"Leave it Grenn," he told his friend. "I'm used to worse from people of higher standing than him. His words cannot hurt me." Saying that reminded him of Tyrion's words of advice to him months ago at Winterfell, when King Robert came to make Eddard his Hand. That seemed like a lifetime ago now; back when he was simply Jon Snow the bastard son of the honourable Lord Eddard Stark, the brother to Robb and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon. Now he was still Jon Snow, but he was the nephew of King Eddard Stark, and cousin to the Princes Robb, Bran and Rickon and to the Princesses Sansa and Arya. Thinking of Arya being addressed as princess always amused Jon; the look of horror on her face and the frustration in her grey eyes as she hears the title's use next to her name would make Jon chuckle, as did the sounds of annoyance that came from Arya every time she spoke up.

"Jon," Eddard suddenly called out, drawing Jon out of his thoughts as he faced his uncle. "We need to talk." Jon nodded his head and bid his friends farewell before following Eddard as he walked inside.

Jon and Eddard walked along the corridors of Riverrun, making their way to the room that had been set aside for Jon's uncle as his personal solar. They walked into the room and Eddard closed the door behind them, Jon waiting by the chair until he was told to sit. Eddard gestured for him to take his seat, and Jon sat down as his uncle walked to the other side of the desk between them. When Eddard sat down he let out a noise of frustration, making Jon frown.

"Utter madness," he said as he removed the crown from his head. "The simple thought that none of this would have happened had Lysa not done as she had done is just maddening." Jon sat still and listened as Eddard explained to him everything that had happened at the Eyrie, including Lady Lysa Arryn's confession of murdering her husband Jon Arryn. Learning that had stunned him.

"Why would Lady Arryn do all of that though?" he asked. "It makes no sense."

"Because Petyr Baelish has been manipulating her for years it seems," he said. "The man who murdered little Robert confessed to having been sent to kill Jon's son under orders from Baelish. Cat wants to see Petyr dead now that his true nature is known, and she is not the only one." Eddard sighed as he stood back up from his seat and wandered over to the window before turning to face Jon again. "I sent out word that he is to be arrested and brought before me with all haste. Lord Lyonel Corbray had told me when he came to swear his oaths of service to Lord Harrold that Baelish had met with him some weeks ago before vanishing from his tower. Lord Corbray had become suspicious of Baelish after his brother Ser Lyn had seemingly disappeared and so sent his men to scour the tower. The day we were to leave the Eyrie, after seeing Lord Harrold married to one of Lord Royce's daughters, one of Lord Corbray's knights had arrived and informed us that several bodies had been found washed up on the shore many miles west of the tower's location. Among the dead were Ser Lyn Corbray and his squire, Mychel Redfort. Now both Lord Corbray and Lord Redfort are demanding Baelish's head, Redfort for his youngest son's death and Corbray for both his brother's murder and the theft of Lady Forlorn." Jon stared wide eyed at his uncle at this news.

"House Corbray's ancestral sword? You mean that Baelish has stolen it?" He was shocked and sickened by the audacity of the man, as was Eddard by the look of disgust in his eyes.

"Aye. A murderer and a thief. And he has just vanished. I suspect that he could have crossed the Narrow Sea to evade capture, but if he has then I have no idea where to start." Jon stood up from his seat and walked over to his uncle, looking outside to the Whispering Wood which lay beyond the river running beneath them. He stood quietly trying to think of something to say that could help, but he found that he could not give any help at all. He knew nothing of Baelish other than what Robb and Eddard have told him, and that was little. He knew that Baelish was not a Westerosi name, but he could not think of where in all of Essos his ancestors could have come from. That would be something that Queen Catelyn might know, if Baelish ever told her anything of his family's past, he thought upon remembering Robb telling him the tale of his Uncle Brandon's duel with a young Petyr Baelish before Robert's Rebellion.

"Would Queen Catelyn know where in Essos Baelish could have gone?" he asked. "He did foster here in Riverrun after all, did he not?" Eddard looked at him with a questioning look and gave a soft hum.

"I never thought to ask her," he admitted. "I shall ask her soon, once she has finished speaking to the girls. How were they when you told them the news?" Jon took a deep breath before he answered.

"Sansa was upset about their deaths while Arya was quite angry," he told him. "For a moment I feared that I would need to lock Arya in her chambers just to keep her from running off to hunt down those responsible." Eddard gave a brief smirk that looked more like a grimace.

"Knowing Arya she would've done just that. I'm surprised that she didn't," he said looking at Jon with an amused look. He was silent for a few moments before walking back to the desk. "She's so much like your mother," he suddenly remarked as he sat down. Jon frowned at the comparison but said nothing, knowing that his uncle would soon tell him more. "Her personality, her looks, her temperament... everything about Arya just reminds me of Lyanna. Sometimes when I look at her it's like watching at a memory." Eddard sighed before looking back at Jon. "Sorry Jon, I don't mean to reminisce like that."

"It's alright uncle," Jon replied as he sat back down in his seat. He sat quietly for a minute before looking up at Eddard. "If you want I could go and see if I can hunt Baelish down for you?" Eddard looked up at him and gave him a fond smile.

"That's kind of you to offer Jon, but I don't think it would be wise," he said. "Baelish could be anywhere, and it would take you forever to track him down. Besides, I have a task for you." Jon sat up straighter in his seat at that, looking at his uncle. "I am giving you a command of three score men. You are to ride west through the Golden Tooth and continue on to wherever Robb is. You will join him and fight beside him when he takes battle to Lannisport, and Casterly Rock after that." Jon felt a slight surge of elation at that, a touch of excitement at the prospect of riding out to fight by Robb's side.

"I will gladly ride out uncle," he said with a slight bow of his head. "Will I be taking Grenn and Pyp with me, or have you need of them?" Eddard smiled slightly as he leaned over the table.

"They will go with you Jon," he answered. "Your friend Samwell will stay here with me. I have taken Theon and young Lord Harrold as my two squires, but Winterfell will need a new steward after Vayon Poole's death. I'll be testing Samwell to see how competent he truly is, and if he is good I will offer him the position." Jon was surprised at that but he soon smiled as the realisation sank in that Sam could well find himself living in Winterfell, and that is before taking into account that Sam will have access to Winterfell's library if he does take the position of steward. He will be jumping with joy at that, Jon thought with a smile. Maester Luwin will find a new resident for the library once Sam goes there. He could barely contain himself when he entered the library the last time we were there, gods alone know what he'll be like if he decides to become Winterfell's steward.

"I am sure that Sam will not disappoint you," Jon said. Eddard nodded his head as he leaned back into his seat.

"There is one other thing," he said. "Cat and I have gone over the details over the last few weeks, and after much checking and rewriting we have finally gotten your legitimization papers sorted." Jon felt his breath hitch in his throat then. Eddard reached into his cloak and pulled out a scroll of parchment which he passed over to Jon. Jon took it with a trembling hand, holding the scroll carefully as if it were fragile. He broke the direwolf seal upon it and unrolled the scroll, reading the words upon it. Even though Eddard said that he would do this, Jon felt a sense of disbelief run through him. "From this day until your last you are Jon Stark of Winterfell," Eddard said. "You will come last in the line of inheritance after Arya and any children she were to have, if Arya ever agrees to marry someone that is." Jon felt a smirk creep up on his lips then at the thought of Arya ever marrying. The Wall will melt before Arya ever agrees to be wed to anyone, he thought with amusement. He looked at Eddard then, adopting a serious look before he stood up from his seat and did what any bastard would be expected to do under such circumstances; he bent his knee and bowed his head.

"You honour me, father," he said, choosing to address his uncle as he has addressed him for most of his life. "I do so swear to uphold the honour of the name Stark, and I hope to prove myself worthy of your trust." He heard his uncle chuckle before seeing his feet in front of him. He saw his hand waving him to stand up and Jon stood up quickly, looking Eddard in his eyes.

"I know you will lad," he told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Jon looked at his uncle for a few short moments before embracing him. Eddard returned the embrace, patting him on the back while Jon willed himself not to weep the tears of joy that threatened to run down his face.

Some time later Jon found himself wandering the godswood of Riverrun. He felt like he was in a daze, still coming to terms with being legitimized and named Stark. After his uncle gave him the papers Eddard dismissed Jon from the solar, telling him that he will not be riding out for a few more days yet. Jon stumbled upon Sam, Grenn and Pyp in the courtyard, Sam watching as Grenn and Pyp sparred with a couple of Riverrun guardsmen. He told them the news of his legitimization, which earned him a couple of cheers from Grenn and Pyp while Sam just smiled at him and congratulated him quietly. He spent some time with his friends, talking with them over unimportant matters before remembering to tell them of him being given a command of men. He told Grenn and Pyp that they would be going with him while telling Sam that Eddard was considering offering him the position of steward so long as he proved himself worthy of the position; Grenn and Pyp were happy with marching out with Jon while Sam looked dumbstruck at the prospect of being made steward. After a few more minutes of their company Jon left them to get some peace and quiet. So now he was walking around the trees of Riverrun's godswood.

After losing track of time Jon found himself standing before the slender weirwood tree. He approached the tree and knelt down before it, bowing his head and praying to the old gods. After a few quiet minutes he stood up and stepped back. As he began to turn around he felt someone collide with him, a pair of arms wrapping around him. Looking down Jon saw that it was Arya who was embracing him.

"I just heard the news," she said excitedly, looking up at Jon with a wide grin. "Mother and father told me and Sansa a short while ago." Jon smiled down at Arya before ruffling her hair. Arya giggled at him before stepping back. Jon noticed that she was wearing her breeches and tunic again, though after a moment he then realised something that he had not noticed before now.

"That's my old tunic, isn't it?" he asked her. Arya looked away shyly, hiding her hands behind her back before nodding her head.

"It's too small for you anyway Jon," she said. Jon chuckled as he shook his head. How did I not realise this until now? he wondered. "Better to put it to good use, don't you think?"

"Aye Arya, better than throwing it away," he agreed. He stepped back towards the tree, sighing softly before looking back at his little sister. Cousins we may be, but as Robb will always be my brother so to will Arya always be my sister, he thought. "What are you doing out here anyway?" he asked her. Arya huffed at the question, shaking her head before she stepped closer to the weirwood.

"I came to look for you," she said. "It's easy enough to find you, you've been coming to the godswood here everyday for weeks now." Jon gave her a slight smile before he sat down on the ground, looking at Arya as she fidgeted with her hands. "And I was going to come out here anyway. To get some peace, and..." She trailed off then, looking away from Jon. He saw the look of discomfort in her eyes then, and he knew that she was thinking of that stable boy that she had killed back in King's Landing.

He was about to speak to her when they both heard the sound of a horn blaring in the distance. Jon stood up quickly and walked out, looking over his shoulder to see that Arya was following him. They walked out of the godswood and made their way to the courtyard where they saw Sam walking over to them.

"Sam, what is it?" Jon asked. His friend looked back at him with what looked like a worried expression.

"A large group of... of riders are making their way to Riverrun," he said. "They are riding under a peace banner, but I recognise their sigils." Jon was about to ask Sam whose sigils they were but he saw his uncle come wandering over, his crown sat upon his brow and Ice over his back.

"Your grace," Ser Robin Ryger said with a bow, drawing Sam's attention.

"Y... your grace," he stuttered. Eddard looked at Jon briefly before looking at Sam.

"Did I hear you right Samwell?" he asked. "Do you know their sigils?" Sam nodded his head nervously and tried to speak, but his nerves kept him back. Jon was about to step forward and reassure Sam but Eddard had put his hand on Sam's shoulder and gave him an encouraging squeeze. "Take your time lad," he said kindly. Sam took a breath and steadied himself before answering him.

"Well, there's the Baratheon's crowned black stag fluttering beside the Tyrell's golden rose and the Redwyne's grape cluster," he said. "I also saw the sigils of Oakheart and Rowan, and a few other Reach Houses."

"What about your own House?" Eddard asked. Jon looked at Sam and saw him shake his head.

"No huntsman banner your grace," Sam said. Eddard sighed before looking back at Jon.

"We should make ready to receive our guests," he finally spoke in a commanding voice.

For fifteen minutes the courtyard was busy with servants, men-at-arms and knights readying for the arrival of the Reach party. Jon was stood beside Arya (who had to rush inside and change into more appropriate attire at her mother's insistence) and Sansa, with their mother and father stood beside them. Ghost and Nymeria were sat behind them, while Sam was stood just behind Jon. He watched as the gate opened, and for the second time that day a party entered. At the head was a knight wearing full steel plate, a longsword sheathed on his hip and a green cloth tabard with two golden roses embroidered over the fabric. He had a handsome face and short brown hair.

"That's Ser Garlan Tyrell, Lord Tyrell's second son," Sam quietly told him. Soon other knights entered, along with a wheelhouse that looked half as large as the one that Cersei Lannister had used upon the royal visit to Winterfell. The wheelhouse entered the courtyard of Riverrun, only just managing to squeeze through the open gates. The wheelhouse came to a halt and Ser Garlan dismounted his horse and walked over to the door, which he opened. A man who looked very similar to Ser Garlan stepped out first, dressed in a black doublet and with a cane in his hand. He looked a little bit older than Ser Garlan and had the same hair colour, though his hair was a little bit longer and was also neatly combed back. The man seemed to wince slightly as he stepped out of the wheelhouse before steadying himself with his cane. After a moment Ser Garlan held out his arm, and a small hand took it a moment later. The knight helped out a beautiful woman with long curly brown hair, who was wearing all black much like Catelyn was. On the young woman's head sat a small golden crown. Just then two other knights approached them; one with hair as brown and curly as the young woman's dressed in armour that looked golden in appearance, and the other with short straw-like blonde hair who towered over the first knight. Jon heard Sam gasp behind him and he turned to look over his shoulder.

"Sam?" he asked quietly. Sam looked back at him with wide eyes.

"Tha... that's Lord Tyrell's daughter," he gasped out. "Lady Margaery. Well, Queen Margaery now I should say. With her marriage to King Renly that is." Jon looked back at the young woman and her guards and watched as they wandered over to stand before Jon's uncle. The man with the cane stepped further forward and bowed his head to Eddard.

"King Eddard," the man spoke, his voice loud and clear. "I am Willas Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden and the Reach." Jon noticed Sam give a confused gasp at that proclamation. "Allow me to present my sister, Queen Margaery of the Houses Baratheon and Tyrell." The young Queen stepped closer and dipped her head down respectfully.

"It is an honour to meet you your grace," she spoke kindly, yet her face was rather serious.

"A pleasure, Queen Margaery," Jon's uncle responded. "I remember your husband Renly speak of you during my tenure as Hand to King Robert. May I ask where King Renly is?" Jon noticed the young lady's eyes flash with pain at the mention of Renly Baratheon, but she quickly blinked her eyes.

"My husband was murdered your grace," she said. "He was killed along with Ser Emmon Cuy of his Kingsguard in a supply tent some miles outside of Storm's End after having treated with his brother Stannis. I firmly believe that a Lord Petyr Baelish is responsible for my lord husband's murder." Jon saw Catelyn tremble slightly at the mention of Baelish.

"You have my condolences my Queen," Eddard spoke slowly. "We too have suffered recently due to Petyr Baelish. Let us go inside, we can conclude introductions there. Shall we?" Margaery nodded her head in answer and soon everyone was entering the great hall of Riverrun.

Jon wandered inside behind Arya, looking at the little Tyrell Queen as she walked alongside Eddard and Catelyn. Once they were inside the great hall Jon began to make his way to the lower table where Grenn and Pyp were, until he heard Catelyn call out to him. He turned to look at her and saw the slight look of amusement in her eyes.

"You may sit beside your sisters now Jon," she said in a kind voice that Jon was still not used to having directed at him. Jon felt a touch embarrassed before turning to walk over to the high table. He sat down beside Arya who he noticed was grinning at him. As he relaxed in his seat he saw his uncle point to his family.

"My lady wife, Queen Catelyn Stark, born of House Tully," he introduced before moving on to Sansa. "Our eldest daughter, Princess Sansa, and our youngest daughter Princess Arya." Jon caught Arya's grimace at being addressed by her new title. "And my son Jon Stark. Recently legitimised with my wife's blessing." Jon felt a blush creep up at the attention that he was receiving. Margaery looked at him with a kind smile as did her eldest brother Lord Willas, though Ser Garlan regarded him with a blank look.

"A pleasure to meet you all," Margaery said before she turned around to look at her own companions, all of whom wore black apart from the knights. "Allow me to introduce my brothers. Lord Willas you already know, the other two are Ser Garlan and Ser Loras." Ser Garlan bowed to Eddard as did the knight whose hair was similar to Margaery's hair in colour and length. "Ser Loras is also part of my Queensguard, along with Brienne of Tarth here." That took Jon by surprise as he had thought the giant knight was a man and not a woman. Brienne bowed deeply to Eddard.

"'Tis an honour, your grace," she spoke. Looking to his side Jon saw that Sansa had a shocked look on her face while Arya had an awestruck look in her eyes.

"Your are Lord Selwyn Tarth's daughter, are you not?" Eddard asked. Brienne looked put off by the question but she nodded her head in answer. "You must be very skilled with a blade to be part of Queen Margaery's Queensguard." Jon watched as the tall woman looked at his uncle with a look of surprise in her eyes before she gave a kind smile.

"She is quite skilled your grace," Margaery answered. "She defeated my brother Ser Loras here in a melee, where she earned her place as part of my husband's own Kingsguard." The young Tyrell Queen then held out her hand to an older man to her left who had two women beside him. "Also we have my uncle, Lord Paxter Redwyne of the Arbor, along with his wife Lady Mina and their daughter Lady Desmera."

"King Eddard," Lord Redwyne spoke as he bowed his head. "I am glad that you were able to escape King's Landing. My own sons, Ser Horas and Ser Hobber had both escaped not long after you did and are back home recovering from their... adventure, shall we say." Jon looked at Eddard to see him nod his head at the Reach lord.

"I am glad to hear of your sons escape my lord," Eddard replied. He looked back to Margaery who Jon noticed was now holding her hand out to her right.

"Finally we have my mother, Lady Alerie, and my grandmother, Lady Olenna," she said. Lady Alerie looked at Jon's family with a sad smile, her silver hair loose. Lady Olenna however looked back at them with a shrewd look in her eyes.

"I am rather glad to finally meet you King Eddard," the elder lady said. "Though I do wish it were under better circumstances."

"Don't we all my lady," Eddard said. He sat back in his chair as the Tyrells and Redwynes took their seats opposite them. "Now then, last I heard Lord Mace was the Lord of Highgarden. What happened to him?" Jon saw Margaery's eyes fill with sorrow, while Lady Alerie looked ready to burst into tears then.

"My lord father was executed by Stannis Baratheon," Lord Willas answered as he produced a letter from his doublet. "This letter here is from Petyr Baelish, sent to try and persuade my father to betray King Renly with promises of pardons and marriage between my sister and Joffrey. However, it was sent in such a manner as to appear that it was sent discreetly. And my grandmother was certain that it is a deliberate ruse to try and sow discord among our family."

"And now my husband is dead," Margaery spoke, her voice hard. Jon looked at the young woman whose face was full of anger and sorrow. "Renly was murdered during the night, and those who killed him I am certain planted evidence to lay the blame upon my father." Margaery took a deep breath then, calming herself before she continued. "Stannis left his camp, and all of the lords of the Stormlands bent the knee to him, apart from the Dondarrions so I have heard."

"What of the Houses of the Reach?" Catelyn asked. Margaery looked over her shoulder to Ser Loras, who spoke with a hard voice.

"Most have stayed true to our House your grace, but both branches of House Fossoway have turned their cloak, as have the Florents and a few lesser Houses. The worst traitor however is Lord Randyll Tarly." Jon looked at Ser Loras wide eyed, shocked at that. Sam's father fights for Stannis now? This is bad, he thought. Randyll Tarly is known throughout the realm as one of the best generals that the Reach has ever produced, and he has never suffered a defeat.

"And it was Lord Tarly who detained Lord Mace Tyrell, thus preventing him from leaving and therefore leading him to his execution," Brienne spoke. Jon heard Eddard sigh loudly then, his frustration evident.

"This makes things a lot harder for us," he said. "With Tarly siding with Stannis we will have a much harder fight ahead of us. Though I must admit my surprise that he would bend the knee to Stannis in the first place."

"Well, that makes two of us King Eddard," Lady Olenna said. "Though I dare say my idiot son did give Lord Tarly reason in the past to resent him, I never would have thought him capable of betraying his liege lord."

"Still, he had been shown the so-called evidence that implicated my father's involvement in Renly's murder," Margaery cut in, drawing Jon back to the young widow. "Lord Tarly is a rather pragmatic man, and so he thought that my father must have given in to his greed upon being shown further evidence in the form of a letter sent by Petyr Baelish. That must have been enough to convince him of my father's guilt, and it certainly seemed to be enough to persuade Stannis." Jon felt even more disgust towards Baelish than he already did. He leaned onto the table, clasping his hands as Ser Loras spoke again.

"I noticed that you have Tarly's eldest son with you your grace," he said. Jon looked to Eddard who gave a slight nod of his head. "I though that he had gone to the Wall to take the black?"

"Young Samwell did Ser Loras," Eddard responded. "However he chose to leave before taking his vows, along with three other recruits who like him had gone to Castle Black of their own free will." Jon looked back to Ser Loras who then turned to face his grandmother.

"Perhaps we could use the boy as a means to deter Lord Tarly from giving Stannis further aid?" Lady Olenna suggested. Jon blinked at the words, knowing that she was suggesting using Sam as a hostage against his father. Before he could respond he heard Catelyn clear her throat.

"I am afraid that that would not be possible my lady," she said. Jon looked over to her and saw her turn to look at him. She nodded her head, giving him leave to explain further. Sitting up straighter in his seat, Jon cleared his throat and looked at Lady Olenna who he realised was now looking at him.

"My lady, I have known Samwell Tarly for many months now," he said. "I know him well enough to know that if you were to hold him prisoner and tell Lord Tarly that you will have him executed if he continues to aid Stannis Baratheon then he will still do so and probably thank you for killing his son afterwards." Lady Olenna blinked rapidly at that, leaning further over the table. "Samwell has confessed to me that he is a craven, and that his lord father holds no love for him. He told me that his father had forced him to go to the Wall or face being killed in a hunting accident."

"Why would Tarly do that?" Ser Loras asked, his tone making it clear to Jon that he did not believe him.

"Because Samwell is not a warrior like Lord Tarly wanted him to be," Jon answered, feeling frustrated. "His second son Dickon is more martial minded, and as such Lord Tarly would rather have his second son inherit Horn Hill and Heartsbane instead of his firstborn." Jon could have sworn he heard the tiniest gasp coming from Sansa then, probably shocked at the thought of a father being so cruel to his son.

"Furthermore," Eddard said before anyone else could speak, "I am in need of a new steward at Winterfell, and Jon has assured me of Samwell's keen mind. If he proves himself capable I will offer the position of steward to him once this war is ended." Ser Loras looked at Eddard with a look of frustration that quickly vanished. After a moment of silence Lord Redwyne coughed, drawing attention to him.

"That actually reminds me your grace," he said as he stood up and shouted to a knight bearing the Redwyne grape cluster. The knight bowed to him and disappeared. After a few moments Lord Redwyne turned to face Jon's uncle. "When my sons escaped from King's Landing they took a young lady with them. Someone you may be familiar with, you in particular Princess Sansa." Jon looked at Sansa who looked at the Lord of the Arbor with confusion on her face. She then turned her head slightly before her eyes went wide.

"JEYNE!" she shrieked with joy. Jon looked to where Sansa was looking and saw Jeyne Poole being escorted in by the Redwyne knight and a septa.

"Sansa," Jeyne said, relief in her voice. Sansa stood up from her seat and walked over to her friend. The two girls embraced each other, both crying with joy at seeing each other again. Jon looked back at his family; Eddard and Catelyn both looked glad to see Jeyne and Sansa reunited, as did Arya though she seemed a little bit bitter. Jeyne did give Arya a lot of grief in the past, he reminded himself. Jon put his hand on Arya's shoulder and gently shook her. Arya looked away from the girls and turned to Jon.

"You okay?" he asked quietly. Arya nodded her head slowly.

"You have my thanks Lord Redwyne," Eddard spoke then, drawing Jon's attention back to the conversation.

"You're welcome your grace," Lord Redwyne said in reply.

"Now if we can get back onto the reason why we are all here?" Lady Olenna said sharply.

"Grandmother," Margaery said with what Jon thought was a resigned groan. After a moment the Tyrell Queen looked back at Eddard. "So, taking into consideration everything that has happened, we are here to ask you for aid in taking the Iron Throne," she said. "I know that the North has no desire to remain under the rule of the Iron Throne, and I am under the impression that the Riverlands and the Vale are both wishing to follow you. So with that in mind, I am asking you to support my claim to rule over the southern kingdoms." Jon watched his uncle as he leant over the table, his hands placed in front of him.

"I am willing to enter an alliance Queen Margaery," Eddard said with his lord's voice. "I have no wish to see Stannis sit the throne, especially considering that his men had attacked me as I was making my way back to my family. Though some may question why I am helping your family to take the throne." At that Jon saw Margaery give a small smile.

"You would be helping House Baratheon to take the throne, not House Tyrell," she said. "I will legitimise Edric Storm, King Robert's natural-born son, and name him as my heir if needs be, but that will only be if I either lose my child or give birth to a girl." Jon saw the surprise on Eddard and Catelyn's face, and he looked back at the young widow to see her putting a hand over her belly. "King Renly and I grew quite close your graces. And I am carrying his child." Jon looked back at Eddard who was slowly standing up, his face suddenly becoming softer as he looked at Queen Margaery.

"Robert and I grew up in the Eyrie as friends," he said, "and regarded each other as brothers. House Baratheon and House Stark have been friends for many years. While I will be going to war against Stannis Baratheon, a reality that I know to be a certainty, I see no reason for the friendship between our Houses to be completely soured. The Northern Kingdoms will never again bow to the south, but we will still count the Baratheons as friends so long as our sovereignty is respected." Jon looked back at Margaery, who looked at his uncle with a look of gratitude in her eyes.

"I will recognise the sovereignty of the Northern Kingdoms, as will my child and all who follow," she said. Jon saw Eddard give Margaery a warm smile before he responded.

"Then so long as the Reach helps us in our war against the Lannisters, then you may count on us to help you claim the Iron Throne for your and King Renly's child," he said, his voice sincere.

Jon looked back at Margaery and her family and saw the looks of relief and gratitude on their faces, and where Lady Olenna was concerned he was certain that she had a scheming look in her eyes. She looked towards Lady Mina Redwyne who Jon noticed had a similar look in her eyes. What are those two up to? he wondered. As he watched them he saw Lady Mina nudge her head towards her daughter Desmera (who was busy talking with her father) while not breaking eye contact with Lady Olenna. The young lady looked to be about the same age as Jon and Robb, and was quite pretty with brown hair and freckles on her face. She looks like a lovely girl. Maybe pretty enough to draw Robb's attention, Jon thought with amusement. After a moment Jon shook his head and turned to face his family, trying not to wonder about whatever Lady Olenna and Lady Mina were plotting.

Dacey

On the morning of the day that the assault would happen Dacey woke up slowly, rising from her cot. She stood up and stretched her arms out, yawning as she did so. She stroked her hands through her hair and began to pull it back into a braid. She sat down with her naked back to the tent's entrance. After a few minutes she began to pull on her clothes, starting with her breeches before going for her tunic.

"Lady Dacey, Prince Robb is wanting... oh!" Edric Dayne barged into the tent as she was pulling her tunic on and caught a glimpse of Dacey's breasts. The lordling turned around to look away, his face going bright scarlet.

"And that is why you never enter a lady's tent without her leave to do so," she told him in a mock scolding tone, trying not to smile at him but failing miserably. The little lord was quite popular among the ranks, always cheerful and with a cheeky jape ready to use. He got on quite well with everyone he spoke with, and even Robb liked him. Still he was quite reckless at times; at Oxcross he had charged out with the men despite being told to stay behind with the reserves. As a result he got a little cut on his face but fortunately that was all he got, apart from a good scolding as well. Still he was a typical boy, always running around and being playful when his duties allowed. But he was quite nosey at times too, especially around the few women throughout the camp. More than once he had been caught peeking into tents where a camp follower was busy pleasuring a man-at-arms or knight.

"I... I'm sorry, Lady Dacey, I..." he stuttered out.

"What have I told you about using titles?" she cut in.

"To... to not use them, Dacey," he said. "I'm sorry." Dacey smirked as she made sure that she was decent.

"You can look now young man," she said. Edric turned around slowly, looking at her shyly. Dacey looked away as she reached for her mail, Edric moving as if to offer help. "Believe it or not I am quite capable of armouring myself Edric," she told him kindly as she pulled the mail shirt over her head.

"Of course, sorry," he said. Dacey chuckled as she untucked her braid from under her tunic.

"You apologise for an awful lot, don't you?" she teased him. Edric coughed as his face turned redder than before. Ever since that day after Oxcross Edric has not been able to look at Dacey without his face going red. Of course since that day Dacey has not been able to look at Beric Dondarrion without feeling a little uneasy; after only a couple of drinks Edric had let slip that he was certain that Beric had feelings for Dacey. At the time Dacey had laughed it off, but since then she has found that she cannot look at Beric without getting distracted.

"Prince Robb is requesting that you make your way to him at the siege towers as soon as you are able," he told her, bringing her out of her thoughts. Dacey nodded her head as she grabbed her leather armour.

"Very well then," she said as she pulled on her torso armour. "Run along and tell him that I'll be there shortly." Edric bowed and turned around to leave. "And Edric?" The boy looked over his shoulder. "Next time, call out to whoever is in the tent and wait until they tell you to enter."

"O... of course, my... Dacey," he stuttered out before leaving. When he was gone Dacey laughed softly, reaching for her gauntlets and putting them on. If only it had been a certain lord that Edric squires for, she thought wistfully as she laced up her gauntlets, remembering the dream that she has had for quite a few nights now. Stop it! she chided herself. He's betrothed. It matters not how much you want it, it'll never happen.

After pulling on her boots Dacey grabbed her mace and then left her tent, making her way to the towers. She walked past the men as they ran along the rows of tents to the siege lines. She stopped to grab a couple pieces of bread and ate them as she walked along to where Robb was. Twenty minutes later, as she was finishing off her bread, Dacey saw Robb standing by the towers with Grey Wind beside him. The direwolf was stood on all fours, panting happily as Robb talked with Greatjon and Dacey's mother.

"There she is," Maege said as she caught sight of Dacey walking towards them. "Pleasant dreams I hope?" Dacey rolled her eyes as she stopped beside Robb.

"Good, now that you're here Dacey," Robb began before she could respond to her mother, "after much discussion I have decided to lead the second wave once the gates are down. Greatjon, you'll lead the assault from the towers." The Umber lord smirked widely as Robb looked from him to Dacey. "Over the last few nights the Sarsfield garrison have not retaliated as often as I would have liked them to. Clearly they were saving their arrows for today. I will send my infantry up first with the battering rams, siege ladders and their shields, which should draw their archers attention. The towers will advance on the walls and then Greatjon will lead the initial attack. As originally planned though Dacey you will have command of the second wave attacking from the towers." Dacey nodded her head to Robb.

"Understood Robb," she said. It would be the first time that the towers were used for an attack; the host had built them over the last fortnight in preparation for the assault on Lannisport, but so far they had only the two towers to use. Dacey hoped that they would prove effective.

"I already have everyone else assigned to their posts," Robb told them. "Harrion and Torrhen will be leading the battering rams to the gate, Lucas and Ser Marq are going to lead the infantry very shortly, and Smalljon and Lord Dondarrion are preparing their men to try and sneak up on the walls opposite where our main attack will be and climb up them. Hopefully the Sarsfield garrison will be fully committed to our infantry and towers so they'll not notice Smalljon and Lord Dondarrion, otherwise our own archers will have to engage theirs in a bloody exchange in a bid to give them a chance to climb up." Robb walked over to the far end of the tower they were stood next to, just as a Karstark war horn sounded.

"That'll be Harrion and Boar-Hewer on the move," Greatjon said as they walked to join up with Robb.

"Aye," Robb answered. "Soon enough the infantry under Lucas and Ser Marq will be marching. After half an hour the towers will move. Ten minutes after that Lord Dondarrion and Smalljon will make their move regardless of whether the garrison is aware of them or not." Robb turned to face them, a determined look in his eyes. "I had hoped that Lord Sarsfield would've had the good sense to surrender, but after loosing off arrows at Olyvar twice upon our arrival I am left with no choice." Dacey remembered back to five days ago when they had laid siege to the castle of Sarsfield; Robb had sent his squire to parley with the Sarsfields twice, but both times Olyvar came riding back with arrows racing after him. The second time Olyvar had to drop the peace banner after being hit on his shield arm. For five days now Robb has planned the assault on Sarsfield, ordering for the siege towers to be brought forward and organising the men for digging up the siege lines and establishing the sentries and patrols. Robb's main concern had been Daven Lannister riding out to flank the host, but so far he has either not gotten a sizeable host assembled or he is just biding his time. The Blackfish has been leading outriders to scout the surrounding countryside for any sign of the Lannisters, but so far nothing has been found.

"The Sarsfields have made their intentions known Robb," Dacey's mother spoke as she stepped up to look out to the besieged castle's walls. Dacey looked at the ramparts to see archers loosing off volleys of arrows at the infantry marching upon the wall. Dacey could see that most of the infantry had heavy looking shields to give them decent cover while others held siege ladders. Occasionally an archer or crossbowman among the ranks would loose off their own shots at the defending archers; every now and then a defender would fall, either dead or left unable to fight back.

"Let's get to it," Robb said after they had watched for a few minutes. He turned to face them all and walked past them. "Get into position. We take the castle today."

Dacey gathered her men around her, making sure that they held their shields high. She did the same with her own shield, keeping it up to stop any arrows from hitting her. So far she had felt three arrows thudding against her shield, their impacts stronger than any other she has felt so far during the war. The towers began their ponderous advance ten minutes ago, so Smalljon and Beric will begin their own advance on the wall around about now. The towers were halfway to the walls now, the archers on the ramparts sending volley after volley of arrows at the infantry around the towers. A man nearby screamed out as an arrow struck him as another two arrows hit Dacey's shield, one of the arrowheads punching through her shield just beneath the rim. Dacey cursed as she moved herself a little closer to the tower she was closest to.

"MOVE YOUR ARSES!" she bellowed loudly at her men. "KEEP YOUR SHIELDS HIGH AND KEEP MOVING!" The men yelled out, letting her know that they had heard her. The advance was slow, the enemy archers trying to slow them even further. Finally after another ten minutes or so the towers had reached the walls. Dacey heard the sound of the towers ramps hitting the ramparts, followed by the Greatjon's war cry as he led the first wave. Dacey smiled savagely as she turned to face her men. "WITH ME!" she bellowed out as she made her way to the base of the tower.

Dacey entered the tower and began the slow climb up the ladders and stairs to the top. The men were right behind her, all scrabbling to get to the top as quickly as possible. A minute later Dacey found herself stepping out onto the top floor, finding it empty apart from three dead men, all of whom had been felled by arrows. One of her men stumbled out from the opposite side only to catch an arrow in his neck. The man fell to the floor, and Dacey turned her body around and brought her shield up.

"SHIELDS UP!" she roared as she began to move forwards. Peeking around her shield she saw Umber men fighting the Sarsfield garrison, hacking and slashing away at each other while two Sarsfield archers loosed off arrows at Dacey and her men. An arrow hit her shield as she stepped onto the ramp. Cursing loudly she hooked her mace back to her belt and unhooked the small throwing axe that she had. She drew her arm back before throwing at the archer to her right who was just knocking an arrow. Her axe flew over the brutal melee in front of her and slammed into the archer's face, jerking his head back and sending him tumbling over the wall and into the courtyard behind him.

Unhooking her mace Dacey threw herself into the battle in front of her, swinging her weapon into the shoulder of a Sarsfield man-at-arms who was just turning to face her. The man cried out in pain as he staggered to her left, and she struck him on the back of his helm. As she recovered for her next attack she felt an impact on her shield, followed by a second and a third. Dacey smashed her shield into her attacker, sending him off balance and allowing her to face him. The man was shorter than most of the other men in the fight, and he looked to be about Robb's age. Just a bloody boy, she thought as her opponent lunged forward with his sword. Dacey stepped to the side and slammed her knee into his gut, doubling him over so she could slam her elbow into the back of his neck, hopefully just knocking him out. From the corner of her eye she saw a Sarsfield knight slashing his sword at an Umber warrior who was struggling to recover. Dacey stomped over to him and swung her mace high, intercepting the sword and knocking the knight off balance. The knight prepared to strike back but the Umber warrior thrust his greatsword into the knight's side under his arm. Turning to seek another opponent Dacey saw one of her men falling to the floor, blood rushing out of his throat as his foe slashed his sword at another Mormont warrior. Dacey stalked towards the man, kicking another enemy man-at-arms out of her way. The swordsman saw her and snarled out a challenge; Dacey stepped to her right and swung her shield into the man's side, pushing him off balance. She followed up with a swing of her mace, striking the man on his back with as much strength as she could muster. Her foe cried out as he tumbled to the ground, falling onto his hands and knees. Dacey swung her mace at his head, killing him with a strong blow that no doubt would have broken his neck.

Dacey turned to face the battle around her, seeing Mormont and Umber men cutting the enemy garrison down with little mercy. She saw Greatjon hacking a man in twain with that massive greatsword of his, while a few feet from him she saw one of her own men draw his sword free from his foe's belly. To her left she saw an Umber axeman slam his weapon into a Sarsfield knight's helmeted head, splitting the helm's visor and doing the same to his face. To her right one of her men fell having taken a mortal blow, while his killer was disembowelled by another Mormont swordsman who slashed at him. Dacey let out a deep breath and stomped forward, kicking a Sarsfield man in the back of his leg and smashing her mace into the side of his head. She looked to her left and saw a man rush at her waving his sword like a fool, screaming a war cry that was drowned out by the sounds of battle. Dacey blocked his attack with her shield and pushed to the left, thrusting her mace into his chest. The man-at-arms staggered back, winded by her blow. As he grabbed his sword in both hands she brought her arm back and swung the mace down, sending her foe's weapon out of his hands; she quickly followed up her attack by swinging her mace back upwards, the head striking him under his jaw. As he fell she looked around to see the enemy men-at-arms who were on the wall all lying dead or dying.

Walking towards one of her officers, Dacey slammed her mace against her shield as the men cheered. She stopped next to the man and looked at him, keeping her face grim and serious.

"Take half of our men to that gate house over there," she said pointing to where the gate was. "It'll save our friends from exhausting themselves trying to batter it down."

"Aye milady," the officer said before he stepped forward barking orders to the men. Dacey turned around to see an Umber warrior looking at her.

"You, find your lord and tell him we are ready to move to the courtyard below," she said. The Umber warrior nodded his head before turning to find Greatjon. As he walked away Dacey looked to the wall opposite to see Smalljon, Beric and their men overpowering the Sarsfield men-at-arms who were on that wall. All over the ground there were dead Sarsfield men, as well as a lot of dead Northmen. So they had a tough fight on their hands? Bugger it. Dacey watched as Smalljon kicked one man off of the wall before swinging his greatsword at another, cutting him in half across the belly. Beric meanwhile was in a duel with two enemy knights and winning; he slashed his longsword at one foe before shoving his shoulder into the other, then he parried the counter attack of his first foe before slashing at the gap between gorget and chin, sending blood trailing after his blade.

The second knight made to attack but Beric stepped to the side and roared out as he thrust his blade into the back of the knight's legs, sending him to his knees. Dacey watched mesmerised as Beric pulled the knight's helmeted head back to expose his throat and slice it open. As he did another foe rushed at his back, ready to end him. However little Edric stepped in with a spear and thrust the point into the enemy's face, stopping him dead in his tracks. Beric turned to see the man fall, but neither saw the new foe thrust his sword at Edric's back.

"Edric!" she gasped quietly as the sword punched clean through his back and out of his chest. Dacey watched on in horror as the boy lord screamed out in pain and horror as the sword was dragged out of him. Beric cried out in anger and anguish as he rounded on Edric's killer. Suddenly spurred into action Dacey ran along the wall, pushing past men as she rushed to Edric. No, please gods not him. He's only a boy, just a boy, she thought as she rushed into the gatehouse where men were fighting. She pushed one man over the body of another, swung her mace into someone's face, smashed her shield into another's back. Right now she did not care who she lashed out at; she was only concerned with getting to Edric.

Dacey stepped out of the gatehouse and ran along the body strewn wall towards where she could see Beric fighting the man who cut down Edric. Beric was parrying and blocking the killer's unrelenting strikes, unable to strike out himself. Blood poured down his sword arm as his foe rained down blow after blow until suddenly Beric was sent tumbling down onto his back. His foe raised his sword high for the killing blow, and Dacey threw herself at the man. She screamed out her anger, roaring like a bear as she pushed the man onto the ground, sending his helm flying off of his head. Having discarded her shield and dropped her mace Dacey punched the man in his face, breaking his nose with the force of her strike. She punched him again, this time sending a tooth flying from his mouth. She punched him once, twice, thrice, each blow sending blood onto the floor next to his head. She kept punching him, smashing his face in with every blow until he was still and unmoving. Even then she punched him once more, until she stopped and hauled herself off of him. The man's face was a bloody ruin; his nose was flattened, his lips were torn, his brow clearly split. After a moment Dacey felt pain in her sword hand. She ignored it and turned to face Beric, who had crawled over to Edric. The boy was still alive, but even Dacey knew that the wound was fatal.

"Edric," Beric spoke quietly. "Come on lad, talk to me." Dacey wandered over to them, falling onto her knees beside them.

"B... Beric?" Edric managed to speak, his voice weak. A trickle of blood slid out from the corner of his mouth. "I... I don't... don't want to die." Dacey crawled closer to the lad, pulling him up gently and resting his head against her lap.

"Hush lad," she said to him. "Save your strength. Everything is going to be alright." Her heart was ready to burst as she cradled Edric's head in her lap. She willed herself not to cry, but a lone tear ran down her cheek. Edric reached his hand up to her, his finger wiping the tear away.

"Don't c... cry Dacey," he said, his voice so quiet. He looked up at Dacey and gave her a smile that quickly turned into a grimace. She looked down at him and felt her heart breaking. Why couldn't you have stayed behind boy? she wanted to scream at him but she could not find the will to say anything to him as he lay there in her arms. After a few moments he began to tremble, his body shaking violently. Dacey grabbed his hand and squeezed it, looking into the boy's eyes.

"No," she said quietly. "Come on now Edric."

"Mama?" he said deliriously, his eyes glazed and his voice weak. "Mama? Mama? I... I'm... I-" Edric suddenly stilled, his body going limp.

"Edric?" Beric said, his voice full of anguish. "Come on Edric, don't do this!" But Edric did not answer. Dacey felt her tears running free then, mixing with the blood and sweat on her face. "I failed him," Beric said quietly. Dacey did not look at him though; she could not bear to look at him right now. After a moment she noticed that Beric had stood up and was slowly walking away; before long she heard him roar in pure rage. Dacey just sat there, holding onto little Edric's lifeless body.

"I'm sorry lad," she managed to say, lifting his body up and wrapping her arms tightly around him. "I'm so sorry." She pressed her lips to Edric's forehead, letting her tears fall before she set him down on the ground. She pulled some strands of his blond hair out of his face and closed his eyes. She knelt down over him and cupped his face between her hands, pressing her forehead to his and sobbing quietly; she cared not for the men who were standing close by watching her. After a moment she slowly began to rise, blinking her eyes rapidly before wiping the tears angrily. She looked down at his lifeless body taking in every feature before she stood up and wandered over to where she left her mace, the men following behind her. She grabbed her weapon and reached for a fallen sword just as a group of Sarsfield men came into view. Glaring at them she stood upright and charged forward, roaring her anger like the beast on her family's banners.

Torrhen

They could hear Dacey's angry war cry from the recently opened gate where they were stood. The battering rams had only just gotten into position when the gate was opened up by Mormont and Umber men. In the courtyard Torrhen saw Greatjon hacking away at his foes, tearing them apart. On the wall to the left he saw a group of Northern warriors led by Dacey charging into a large group of Sarsfield men-at-arms. On the steps leading down from that wall was Dondarrion, cutting the enemy down mercilessly with a look of sheer anger in his eyes. Something's happened, Torrhen realised. Something bad.

"Right then lads, let's get stuck in shall we?" Harrion called out. Over the last few weeks Harrion has slowly come out of his grief, but he was far from the man that Torrhen remembered him to be. Torrhen cheered along with their men before rushing forward, sword high and shield in front of him. He charged at the Sarsfield men who were running out of the closing door of the castle's main keep.

The first foe Torrhen attacked bounced off his shield as he rushed forwards, while the second began to thrust his spear. Torrhen moved his shield to the right to divert the spear before swinging it back into his first foe; he thrust out with his sword, the tip of the blade piercing the inside of his opponent's thigh and slicing the artery. As that man fell screaming in horror Torrhen turned to face the other foe who was raising his weapon high. He dodged to the side when he saw that it was an axe, the edge of it just missing his nose by an inch. Torrhen swung his sword at the man's body, the sharp edge striking his mail. He followed up by bashing his shield into the man's arm and pushing him off balance. The man staggered back but before Torrhen could slash his sword at him a stray arrow hit the foe in the side of his head. Cursing whoever claimed his kill Torrhen turned to face his next opponent, a knight with a shield and bastard sword. The knight took a wide swing at him, aiming for his head. Torrhen raised his shield and felt the impact judder his arm. The knight swung his own shield at him but Torrhen stepped to his right turning his body so that the shield passed him, before following up by slashing his sword upwards under the arm bearing the shield. The edge of Torrhen's blade caught the knight's upper arm but had only caught the man's mail. The knight snarled and smashed his shield against Torrhen's, intending to knock him off balance. Torrhen braced himself and slashed at the back of the knight's legs, slicing into the back of the knee joints.

As the knight fell screaming Torrhen sunk his sword into the exposed neck, his steel slicing through flesh and sending blood cascading out of the wound. When he pulled his sword out blood spurted out like a fountain, some of it splashing against his face. Torrhen turned to see Harrion felling a man-at-arms with a slash to his chest while the man next to him parried away a strike aimed at Harrion's back. Torrhen charged towards his brother only to be pushed to the ground by a Sarsfield man-at-arms, his shield falling out of his grasp. Torrhen looked up and saw the tip of a longsword rushing towards his face. He rolled to the side and slashed out at the man's feet, his sword cutting off his foe's right foot halfway up his shin. The man screamed as he toppled to the side, clutching the stump of his limb. Torrhen brought the edge of his sword to the fallen man's throat.

"No, please-" the man begged as Torrhen ran the blade over his neck, opening his throat. As blood streamed out Torrhen turned to see another foe rush to him with a spear. The man thrust his weapon at him, the spearhead catching him in the side. The steel tip punched through his leather and mail, but only grazed his skin. Torrhen yelled in pain, but before his foe could react he grabbed the spear and used it to get himself onto his feet. As he stepped up he thrust his sword into his foe's chest with all of his strength and buried his weapon to the hilt. The man gave a little cry of pain before tumbling, Torrhen's sword stuck fast. Rather than waste time pulling his sword free he picked up a discarded axe and moved on to find a new foe. Just then he saw horses enter the courtyard, followed by a fast moving blur of grey that leapt at a Sarsfield man and tore him down.

As Grey Wind killed his prey Robb rode in, armoured from head to toe and with his sword held ready. Torrhen looked around to see that most of the enemy were dead and one of the battering rams was right up against the door of the main keep. Robb rode closer, his shield raised up ready to receive any arrows sent his way.

"MEN OF SARSFIELD!" Robb shouted out. "YOU HAVE FOUGHT GALLANTLY, BUT THE CASTLE IS OURS! SURRENDER NOW AND SAVE YOUR LIVES! IF YOU CONTINUE TO RESIST I CANNOT PROMISE TO SPARE YOU!" There was silence for a few moments, apart from the moans of the dying. After a moment four arrows were sent flying to Robb from the windows. Two missed him, one struck his shield and the fourth hit him in the right shoulder, punching through his armour. Robb hissed in pain as he moved his horse back, his guards raising their shields ready for another volley.

"My prince?" someone called out. Torrhen looked back at Robb to see him breaking the arrow's shaft and throwing it aside. He growled out a curse before looking back at the keep.

"If that's their answer, then we'll answer in kind," he said as he dismounted his horse, groaning in pain as he moved his sword arm. "ATTACK!" he bellowed. Torrhen roared with the men as the battering ram began to pound against the doors. It took several goes before the oak began to crack, then another few before the oak splintered. After about two score blows the doors were broken down, and the men charged in. Vale knights were first in, followed by Rivermen and then Northmen. Torrhen hung back while Harrion led their infantry in; he looked at Robb who was clutching at his wounded shoulder.

"Let the others do the work Robb," Maege Mormont said from beside him.

"I'm not going to stand back while my men fight and die for me," Robb all but snarled. Torrhen stepped closer to him then, stopping in front of him.

"Can you swing a sword in your left hand as well as you can with your right hand?" he asked him. Robb looked at him and opened his mouth ready to argue, but after a moment he sighed in defeat.

"'Tis only a flea bite Boar-Hewer," Greatjon said from behind him. "If he can still swing his sword with that arm then let him." Torrhen was about to retort when Robb spoke.

"Peace Greatjon," he said. "Whether I like it or not Torrhen and Maege are right. Besides, if I fight now before getting this flea bite seen to I'll only make it worse. Last thing I want is to sit out the fighting once we get to Lannisport." Torrhen looked over to Lord Umber who was nodding his head.

"Aye, that's a fair enough point lad," he said. The four of them stood looking at the main keep as their men poured in, the sounds of fighting spilling out of the doorway and the windows.

For an hour the fighting continued, men roaring as they felled their foes and shrieking as they were cut down in turn. Torrhen stayed outside with Robb, Greatjon and Lady Mormont; the elder two stood in front of Robb as a healer saw to the arrow that had hit him while Torrhen stood beside them offering help when it was needed, keeping Robb still as the arrow was removed before helping to remove the armour that had been pierced.

"Just as I thought," the healer spoke as Torrhen helped Robb get the armour off. "A bodkin point. Good fer punching through steel plate at a good distance." Robb chuckled before wincing as Torrhen put pressure on his wound.

"The bane of knights and armoured men everywhere," he said. Torrhen chuckled in agreement.

"Got to love them, except when they are aimed at you," he said. Robb laughed heartily as Greatjon offered him a wineskin.

"That's nothing lads," he said as Robb drank. "I remember back during Robert's Rebellion when we were fighting those dragon shits. I was riding with the vanguard during one battle with both of your fathers, gutting Targaryen loyalists left and right. About halfway through the battle as I was about to lop off some fool's head I felt white hot agony on me arse. After the battle was done good old Ned had me pinned down with help from a dozen other lads while a couple of healers pulled out a bloody crossbow bolt from me left arse cheek. I couldn't sit down for bloody weeks so I spent the next few battles slogging it with the foot." The Umber lord chuckled as he took the wineskin off Robb before taking a swig himself. Robb and Torrhen laughed as well while Lady Mormont just shook her head while smirking.

"I can imagine you were not very happy with that," Robb said. Greatjon chuckled some more.

"Bloody right I wasn't," he said. "What made it worse though was that there was some bloody fine looking wenches following our camp. I couldn't have fun at all without causing myself pain. It was not very comfortable to walk with such a wound, so doing anything else would've been agony." Lady Mormont just snorted with laughter as she leant to one side with her arms folded.

"Well Jon, it could've been a lot worse for you," she said. All of them laughed for a couple of moments, briefly forgetting about the battle that raged on in the keep behind them. When they finished chuckling the healer was done and moved on to someone else, and Torrhen went to the body that his sword was stuck in to retrieve it.

Another hour passed before the sounds of fighting ceased entirely. Soon after men were cheering loudly at their victory. Robb walked into the keep, Torrhen and the others behind him. The entrance hall was littered with the bodies of the dead all heaped up over the floor, which was almost entirely red with blood. Torrhen nearly slid on some poor man's entrails as he walked along with Robb. Robb walked with his armour back on, with a bandage underneath covering his wound. All around they saw their own men standing, not a single prisoner in sight. After a few minutes of walking Robb led them into a large hall with overturned trestle tables and a chair on a raised dais at the opposite end. Torrhen saw his brother Harrion stood to one side of the chair with Smalljon stood across from him.

"Sarsfield is yours my prince," Smalljon spoke as he bowed his head. Robb stopped six feet from the Umber heir, Torrhen stopping behind him.

"Where is Lord Sarsfield?" Robb asked him, his voice devoid of any emotion. Smalljon stood up straight and looked at Robb, a grim look in his eyes.

"He was not here," he said simply. Torrhen frowned at that as Robb stepped closer.

"Then who was in charge of the garrison?" he asked, a slight hint of anger in his tone.

"One of his by blows it seems," Smalljon said. "Some cretin named Ser Lucas Hill was giving the orders. He told us nothing as we cornered him, but he put up a good fight." Harrion stepped closer then, his armour drenched in blood and his sword arm hanging lazily by his side with his weapon smeared in blood.

"I have sent my men to scour the castle my prince," he said. "Soon enough they will find answers for us." Just then a door opened and two men entered dragging a young woman with them.

"Let go of me you stinking barbarians!" she hissed.

"Watch yer tongue wench or I'll put it to better use," one of the men threatened her.

"You will do no such thing!" Robb commanded sternly. The man-at-arms looked at him and bowed his head, as did the other. "Release her at once!" The young woman was released and she rubbed her arms, shooting a glare at the men who had led her roughly into the hall. She looked at Robb and gave a rather half hearted curtsey.

"My lord," she said bitterly. Smalljon opened his mouth to correct her but Robb held up his hand for silence. Torrhen watched as Robb took a step closer to her.

"And you are?" he asked her, his tone a little bit softer.

"I am Joanna Sarsfield, daughter of Lord Steffon Sarsfield," she said. "My cousin Ser Lucas, my uncle's son, where is he?" Robb looked back at Smalljon who took a step closer, adopting a kinder look on his face.

"Your cousin fell in battle my lady," he said. "He refused to surrender when given the chance and chose to fight on. He fell to my blade." Torrhen saw Lady Joanna's eyes widen with grief at the news. She seemed to falter then but quickly recovered.

"I lost two of my brothers to your rebellion Stark," she said bitterly. "Bryan and Symon both fell at the Trident so I heard. Now my cousin lies dead. When my father, uncle and eldest brother return with more men from Lannisport they will have your heads decorating spikes." Some of the men laughed at the lady's angry words but Robb did not laugh.

"The Westerlands have lost this war my lady," Robb answered her. "Sarsfield is mine. The entire eastern half of this kingdom has the direwolf banner flying over it. Soon Dorne will join our campaign, and it will only be a matter of time before Lannisport and Casterly Rock fall. There is no need for you to show defiance my lady. Surrender the castle to me formally and I will allow you to remain here under guard. If you do not then you will be escorted to the Golden Tooth before you are taken to Riverrun to wait out the war, and there my father will be the one to decide your fate." Lady Joanna stared at Robb with a hostile look in her eyes. Torrhen felt tense at this moment, his hand involuntarily reaching for his sword's hilt.

"I..." she started, but Torrhen saw her resolve falter as she hesitated. Lady Joanna kept quiet for a short while before bowing her head in submission. "I surrender Sarsfield to you," she said meekly.

With the castle formally yielded Robb gave the order for the men to begin the clear up of the dead. Torrhen stood next to Robb and the others for a time before he decided to go outside and see if he can help. Harrion was the Lord of House Karstark so Torrhen did not need to be by the prince's side unless told otherwise. Walking through the halls he saw the men dragging corpses outside for burial as well as collecting fallen weaponry. As he walked Torrhen thought about what Lady Joanna had said about her family being at Lannisport; if they were part of the host that Daven Lannister was likely assembling there then they would likely have more of their own men with them, and the Sarsfields were known to have some of the finest archers in the Westerlands. That could prove to be a problem for us when we engage them, Torrhen thought as he stepped outside the main keep. The courtyard was full of dead bodies and piles of weapons; the men were dragging the bodies of enemy dead to one side while the corpses of fellow Northmen, Rivermen and Valemen were taken outside of the wall, while swords, axes, spears and bows were tossed onto a massive pile in the middle of the courtyard with several smaller piles forming up beside the wall. Looking up to the wall on his right where he saw Dacey fighting earlier Torrhen saw Dondarrion standing with a mournful expression on his face. Remembering seeing him fighting earlier with anger in his eyes Torrhen decided to go up the steps leading to the top of the wall.

It took Torrhen a minute to reach where Dondarrion was stood, and when he got there he felt like a rock had just slammed into his stomach. Lying on the stone floor of the wall in a pool of blood was Dondarrion's squire, little Edric Dayne. The lordling who had become Lord of Starfall recently upon his father's death was now dead himself. He had been quite popular throughout the host though Torrhen could hardly stand the boy himself, especially after he had caught the boy peeking into his tent when he was busy having fun with a camp follower. But seeing him lying there dead was heart-wrenching. Torrhen stepped closer to Dondarrion, seeing the glazed look in his eyes. The Lightning Lord looked utterly devastated by what had happened.

"My lord?" Torrhen spoke quietly, but Dondarrion did not respond. Torrhen took a step back before turning around and leaving him there. He began to go back down the steps to the courtyard when he caught sight of Dacey. She was wandering about as if in a daze, her whole body drenched in blood and grime. Even her hair was a complete mess with bits of muck, blood and other foul things tangled up in it, and blood coated her face making her look like a creature out of a nightmare. Torrhen made his way to her, worried for her. As he approached her she looked at him blankly, her eyes devoid of emotion.

"Torr," she said quietly. Torrhen looked at her, trying to think of something to say to her.

"Are you alright Dacey?" he eventually asked after a moment. The warrior woman looked at him and shook her head.

"No, I'm not," she spoke, her voice quiet. "I just... Edric..." She trailed off then, unable to say anything else. Realising that Edric's death has clearly affected her Torrhen just nodded his head and stepped aside.

"Go to him," he told her. Dacey looked at him then, a questioning look in her eyes. "Go to Edric. Pay your respects. Then go back to your tent, grieve quietly and get drunk afterwards." Dacey looked at him for a few moments longer before she nodded her head and walked off. Torrhen watched her as she left, watching her ascend the steps to where Dondarrion stood. Seeing Dacey like that was very worrying to Torrhen; he knew that she like so many others was fond of Edric, but he never thought that she could be affected in such a way over anyone's death. He watched from the courtyard as Dacey slowly approached Dondarrion before stopping beside him. They stood in silence before Dacey started to talk. Dondarrion spoke back after a while, and Torrhen watched silently from the distance as the two conversed. He could not know what words were spoken but he had a rough idea; even he knew that those two have spent time in each other's company over the last few days before arriving at Sarsfield. Even a blind man can see that they like each other, Torrhen thought as he walked away, wandering through the opened gates back towards the camp.

Author's Note: To those who like Edric Dayne, I am sorry. Think I am slowly turning into a cruel bastard. I blame GRRM.

Anyway, I hope this was a good chapter for you guys. I have yet to decide what to do for the next chapter so who knows what's going to happen. It'll be a wee while though, real life is slowly catching up to me and forcing me to go back on the job hunt (boo, hiss), so don't expect an update as quickly as you'd like.

Anyhow, until next time...