Aegon

283 A.C

Riverlands

Aegon watched with envious eyes as Stark held the face of the woman he loved. Ashara Dayne, according to what most men would tell, the most beautiful woman in all the seven kingdoms. His mood only worsens when Stark placed a hand on his wife's pregnant belly. Two Weddings took place at Riverrun today. With the death of Jon Arryn, as custom decreed, his vow to marry Lysa Tully fell to Ser Denys Arryn. When the wedding was over, Robert had privately asked him to witness another wedding. As everyone celebrated, Aegon returned to Riverrun's Sept. Inside Robert, Eddard, and his cousin Velarion waited for him. His cousin was looking far better, though still solemn with his silver hair covering the right side of his face. His beard was trimmed, meaning his brother decided to keep it.

The woman Aegon had not known, not until the ceremony began and they pledged their love for one another. He was happy for Stark, even Valerion managed a smile for the Lord. Yet that happiness turned to resentment and jealousy. Eddard said they had wed under a heart tree in White Harbor, marrying in the Light of the Seven was something Eddard did out of love for Lady Ashara.

An indignant neigh snapped him from his dark thoughts. His horse shook his head and nudged Aegon's hand on his snout. The beast's show of affection made him crack a smile. He was foolish, jealousy for Stark was not to fault for his love of Jenny. Aegon was a King to envy his subjects is stupid and dangerous. He must rule over Stark, resenting him would only destroy the relationship they are building in this war. Aegon had to be better, his Targaryen counterparts had committed their last mistake. Their dynasty ended with this war. Aegon's would start a new era in Westeros.

"My King, I have come to wish you well, and that you shall be in my prayers this night and all the ones to come." Catelyn approached with her handmaidens in tow. His Queen curtsied and offered him a shy smile. Where Aegon once saw grief, he now saw a resolve he had not expected of Catelyn. This served to exasperate the ache in his heart over Jenny. Catelyn was a good woman, far better than he deserved for breaking his vows to her. Her Pregnant belly further drove that dagger into his heart.

Aegon bowed, in return to his queen, "thank you, my Queen." Aegon lifted a hand, meaning to stroke her face. Flashes of brown hair and dimpled cheeks made him rethink the action. His great guilt stopped him cold, he would not mean it. Instead, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles, as was proper and expected of him. "Your prayers and seeing you again will keep me alive."

"My King, I wish to know what would you name your son?" Catelyn clasped her hands together, her eyes hopeful for the future.

"What if it is a daughter?" Aegon raised a brow.

"I have prayed to the Seven that they give me a son, I feel it in my heart I will bare you a son my King." Catelyn's blue eyes flashed like steel.

"A son," Aegon thought of it, being a father was far different than waging war. Yet his son might have to fight himself, if the gods have decided on a son, Aegon will honor them with a warrior's name. "Aegor, after my ancestor's greatest ally, a warrior through and through."

Catelyn smiled prettily, "Aegor it shall be, and he shall wait for his father here in Riverrun, so please return to me, my King." Catelyn curtsied one more time before taking her leave. In that time, Eddard had stalked his way to him. Despite everything, the idea of having a son of his own had erased Aegon's jealousy towards his subject.

"Are you ready my King?" Stark said.

"Aye," Aegon mounted his horse, "let's go take that city." The march for Kings Landing had begun.

Their massive host set out from Riverrun on the Kings Road, all together they amassed some thirty thousand men. Arryn, Stark, Tully, all houses Aegon would remember after the war. After several weeks of marching, while camped out but a day's ride from Harrenhall news came to Aegon and his Lords.

"That Whoreson finally dares to show his face!" Robert smashed his gauntlet so hard on the table, Aegon was forced to hold it to keep it from flipping over. The Stormlord's eyes were wild, his hands clenched and unclenched looking for something to crush. Stark placed a calming hand on Robert, and his friend settled if only a little.

"Prince Rhaegar has reached Kings Landing, he has amassed forty thousand men. He will intercept us soon." Father's voice was grim. But the situation called for it, forty thousand men, they were outnumbered by quite a bit.

"What are we to do my Lords?" Valerion tied his hair back to reveal a menacing black eye patch. Combined with his beard, his cousin looked older than Aegon himself. Aegon was proud of him, the moment he snapped from the grief. Valeron began training tirelessly to overcome his reduced field of vision. But his brother was a natural warrior, born from another warrior Maelys strongest of our family. I knew given time, he would be fit for battle. Though to ease his own mind, Aegon had placed Ser Edmure and his Brave Companions as Valerion's personal guard for the fight to come.

"We can't fight him in the open, we would be fools to do so." Ser Denys scratched his scruffy face.

"Mayhaps we send skirmishers to pick at his numbers." Jon Umber tapped on the map.

"That would serve little in the long run," the cold voice of Roose Bolton came up.

"We need to negate his numbers if we were to fall back to the Vale." Lord Yohn suggested.

"you would have me leave the Riverlands to the mercy of the Targaryens? What of Tywin Lannister, would he remain neutral once he knows we are trapped?" Lord Hoster barked angrily.

"The Royal fleet would just descend on us from the sea." Stark crossed his arms, observing the map.

"What if we double back? Go around the Gods eye, march to the Westerlands and force Lord Tywin to aid us?" Ser Denys leaned on the table.

"That would ensure the Old Lion would support the Targaryens," Valerion grunted.

"My Lords!" Father's voice silenced the room. I believe the King might have something to say on the matter.

He did, Aegon had decided on a plan while he listened to his Lords. To not engage Rhaegar directly. But they all forget they one the advantage in one area. Rhaegar was the man pursuing them, not the other way around. The battlefield would be theirs for the choosing. "The Trident," Aegon spoke plainly.

"Your Grace?" Stark's eyes squinted at the map in confusion.

"Prince Rhaegar chases us, not the other way around. We will force battle in our own terms. We will deploy our forces on the far end of the Trident. Rhaegar will be forced to cross to engage us. From there we will make sure his forces have to sludge through the mud of the river ford to fight us." Aegon pointed towards the river, making a line across the north of it.

"What of his numbers? He can just envelop us." Ser Edmure made an exasperated gesture.

"The ford is shallowest here," Lord Hoster pointed to a section of the Trident, all the while glaring at his son. Something told Aegon Ser Edmure would be traveling the Riverlands after this war was over. "His men would drown trying to cross the deeper part of the river, not to mention it's even harder to cross with men pelting you with missiles from the other end." Lord Hoster peeled his lips back in a grin.

"The Whoreson won't be able to bring his full army to bear." Robert smashed his fist on the table, making it rattle. "Good, very good, I will lead the Vanguard and buckle their center, that is where the vile Prince will be!" Robert snarled, gripping the table hard enough to make the wood groan. Gods above, how strong is that man? Aegon frowned in bewilderment.

"The King will decide Lord Baratheon," Lord Hoster glared at the Stormlord.

"You gave me your word, and I bent the knee, Your Grace." Robert pointed an accusing finger at Aegon.

Aegon scowled, "I did not forget, I honor my vows, Lord Baratheon, Prince Rhaegar is yours."

Lord Hoster pursed his lips together in displeasure.

"Lord Baratheon will command the vanguard and take the center. Lord Stark will command the left flank, and my cousin Valerion shall command the right." Aegon grabbed wood carvings representing house sigils and moved the pieces on the respective sides of the map.

"Are there any other objections?" Aegon looked among his Lords. He received shakes of the head and bows. "Then time is wasting, we march on the morrow."

At the break of dawn, Aegon's army began breaking camp. Aegon's Golden Company broke their camp first and assembled to watch the rear. One would think Ser Edmure had always been a part of the company for how he and his Brave Companions took to organizing the men. At the time of the sun fully rising, a welcomed surprise makes their way to their army. The elephants Aegon had detached from their army stomped up the Kings Road. Little Pussy mounted on the lead elephant threw a smirk at Aegon while passing him by. That lucky cat of his jumped up and perched on his master's shoulder. Must have been the cat's luck again, Aegon chuckled and gave a mock salute.

"We lost four elephants; I had the rest take the rear with the Company." Little Pussy waved, taking his elephants to the front of the column. Aegon, for his part, rode up and down the army to pick up the pace. His encouragement had them march before the sun is at the highest point. They maintained a steady course using drums to encourage the men further. Aegon wanted to reach Harroway before nightfall. He wished to have his men sleep with a roof over their head, and a belly full of warm food. Aegon had Lord Hoster send a rider to Lord Roote to prepare for their arrival.

To the Kings displeasure, they arrived well after sunset to Harroway. His mood was not improved by the news Lord Roote had for him. Lord Tywin Lannister was gathering an army on the Golden Tooth. The Lord of Harroway had sent a raven asking who he plans to declare for. There has been no response, and Aegon's Lords have become anxious about the matter. It would not do to leave his Lords to their own fears, Aegon has some of his men gather the Lords in Lord Roote's Great Hall.

"Tywin Lannister is a smart man, more so he has been slighted time, and time again by The Mad King." Lord Jason Mallister stood from his seat and leaned against the table. "We have beaten the loyalist at Gulltown, Summerhall, and Stoney Sept. He would be a fool not to join us." A chorus of murmurs followed Lord Mallister's speech.

"Tywin is a shrewd man; he will not make a move unless he is assured of victory. We were handed a significant defeat in the Reach, and we almost lost the King and his Brother." Lord Yohn Royce was next to speak.

"We won at the Stoney Sept, my Lord." Valerion grunted, "Lord Tywin would do well to remember we have won all but one battle."

"My Lords, we gain little to speak of how Lord Tywin Lannister means to act." Aegon's father stood beside him. "I do not know the man, and from what I see, neither does any man here. We have nothing to go on but his reputation, and the way he dealt with traitors to his house." His uncle took a sip of his wine to wet his throat. "Even if Lord Tywin marches on us, the battle will already be raging. I imagine he knows this. He will take a week if not two, to arrive at the Trident." The old Dragon cleared his throat and rapped his knuckles across his back, "I there for say, we send a party to meet Lord Tywin on the River Road."

"That seems dangerous brother." Uncle Maelys finally spoke up.

"Mayhaps, but this battle will truly decide the fate of The Seven Kingdoms. If we break Prince Rhaegar here, nothing will stand between Kings Landing and us." His father retook his seat, "forgive me, these old bones are much less compliant today."

"What of Mace Tyrell?" Lord Eldon Estermont says Mace's name as if it were poison on his lips.

"Stannis holds firm at Storms End, he will not break." Robert quickly spoke for his brother.

"Very well, I agree with my father, this battle will determine the war. We kill or capture Prince Rhaegar." Aegon gave Robert a sidelong glance. "Then we deal with Lord Tywin, either peacefully or otherwise." Aegon stood, resting his hand on Blackfyre's pommel, "With that, I will end this meeting, tell your bannerman of our plan. I will have volunteers meet me in my quarters tonight." Aegon dismissed his Lords and returned to his rooms.

Some three hours later, after sedating his hunger on honeyed ham and wine, Aegon received his volunteers. Ser Donnel Swann, Ser Richard Horpe and, Ser Harry Strickland knelt before Aegon. Most curious of these men was Harry Strickland, while Aegon did not doubt the courage of the other knights, Strickland was another story. If he weren't complaining of blisters from long marches, marches he made atop his horse mind you, he complained about something else. Despite being a Knight, Strickland had never led a charge or drawn his sword against another. He was not sure about trusting a man such as Harry with a delicate task as this, but then again, the man knew how to kiss ass. Perhaps that quality would serve well to gather Lord Tywins intentions.

So, Aegon wrote a letter in his own hand no less and gave it his seal. He handed the letter to Ser Richard Horpe, much to Strickland's dismay who asked to be given command of this outing. Aegon took some small pleasure in the man's indignation and prepared to have Ser Donnel Swann taking control, him being from the more prestigious house. But, Ser Brynden of all people arrived late offering his sword. Aegon could hardly deny Ser Edmure's uncle.

At the break of dawn, Aegon doubled the army's effort to break camp. The rested men, quite a few who were hosted by the smallfolk gladly did so. The smallfolk had been flocking to Aegon's cause. The Mad King and the absent Prince had made for great propaganda for him to take advantage of. His father revealed he had been spending coin on Minstrels and Criers to spread Aegon's noble deeds, and The Mad Kings evil to the smallfolk. The common people were all too happy to embrace Aegon as a liberator. So, to the shouts of Smallfolk Aegon and his men marched north, while his chosen Knights rode west.

Forcing a hard march, Aegon bypassed Darry, a keep belonging to a loyalist Lord. Aegon preferred not to get bogged down in a needless siege. By the morning of the next day, the last of Aegon's army crossed the Trident at the river ford. Aegon spared his men the rest of the day set up camp and rest. Though the next morning, the King began preparations for the battle to come, as well as contingencies, should the worst happen. If the Gods favored them, as they should in Aegon's mind, the letters in his hands would be words in the wind. But with the help of his father, Aegon left instructions of what is to happen should he fall today.

By his orders, his son or daughter by Catelyn is to be crowned in his stead. All Houses who pledged their lives to him would sit his offspring on the Iron Throne. Should they be defeated, the armies are to split and retreat. The Riverlands is to surrender to the Crown, the Eyre is to close off all ports and prepare for the next war. The Northmen will flee North of the neck and do the same, and when Aegon's heir is of age, they are to march against the Targaryens. Should the Riverlands no longer be able to support his claim, they are to remain neutral and belay all call to arms from House Targaryen to allow Aegon's heir to take Kings Landing. The Dragon King spread his will to his great Lords, then he took to the field to oversee the battle preparations.

Aegon ordered some men to sludge through the ford, once the water reached their breast, he had them place markers sticking out of the water. As he feared, the ford would be wide enough for Rhaegar to get most of his army to bare. The ford looked to be two leagues across, he would have to spread his men wisely. The King instructed his footmen to take up positions along the crossing. He had the pikemen take the center and spearmen as far as he could line them. To his left, Aegon had his missile infantry take up a position on a hill overlooking the crossing. He charged Lord Stark and his northern cavalry, among Starks personal guard, were Jorah Mormmont, Mark Ryswell, and Theo Wull holding the left wing.

For his right, Aegon had no similar cover like the Northerners. Ser Denys, however, proved himself rather useful. He disappeared with a good chunk of his knights for a full day. The Vale Lord returned the next morning battered but with good spirits. With him several carts of timber, when Aegon asked him what he did, the Vale Lord smirked and said he visited a man plowing a field for some wood. Hastily, Denys had his men erect a palisade giving his archers a raised platform to guard the right wing.

On the fourth day, Aegon's outriders returned bloodied with news of the loyalist army. Prince Rhagera's own scouts tried to blind Aegon, but Aegon's outriders were hardened men of the Golden Company. They had been the company's eyes far longer than the green boys Prince Rhaegar threw at them. Aegon sent out his outriders to engage Rhaegars, he also doubled the foraging parties should they encounter Rhagear's men.

Finally, on the seventh day, Aegon's army assembled on The Trident as they had practiced. Though he had some small changes made, he split his elephants among both wings of his army. He put Little Pussy on the right and Lord Corbary with his Lady Forlon on the left. Aegon's cousin took to the right wing, his helmet no longer possessed a visor. Instead, he wore a black bascinet helmet his eye glaring at everything. Aegon as King took command of the center fighting on foot. Baratheon and his Stormlander knights, with a few mounted Northmen courtesy of Lord Stark, commanded the Vanguard.

There was a cool breeze passing through The Trident, the grass swayed gently while the wind caressed Aegon's face. The waters of The Trident calmly passed the Dragon King. Kneeling, Aegon watched the Kings Road and the flatlands before a steep hill. Then, as if the world remembered there was a war going on, the wind stopped, a murder of crows flew overhead briefly casting a shadow over Aegon's men. A war horn pierced morning air, the sound like water on a man's face straightened everyone on the field. Aegon stood, he drew Blackfyre and stuck it in the ground and rest his hands on the pommel.

Stretched across the field Prince Rhaegar's army marched deftly towards him. The Dragon King narrowed his eyes, taking in their formation. Dornish spears made up the right flank facing Valerion, the left flank held Reachmen and loyalist forces from the Riverlands and Stormlands. Scanning the banners, Aegon saw a brown banner with a man plowing a field. Ser Deny's smirk flashed across Aegon's mind, and he chuckled. The center, led by Prince Rhaegar consisted of a mass of Crownland houses. The Targaryen Prince had a retinue of some hundred Knights. The rest of the loyalist cavalry guarded the wings, respectively Aegon recognized the Kingsguard on the right wing by the white cloak, the Dornish riders made Aegon think it might Prince Lewyn Martell commanding the right wing. The left looked to be led by a man with a mace and dagger for a coat of arms.

"So it begins," Aegon donned his helmet. "Signal the archers," commanded Aegon. Two horns thundered across his lines, his men opened ranks, and hundreds of men poured in between forming into companies. Black Balaq passed by Aegon, giving him a nod and smirk.

The Golden Company Archers formed orderly and quickly, longbows at the ready. "Knock!" Balaq's voice boomed across the line. The thumping of feet became louder, "Draw!" Archers swiftly followed the order, the thuds picked up the pace. "Loose!" with dull thwacks hundreds of arrows arced into the sky. Through the gaps between the archers, Aegon saw the arrows pelt Prince Rhaegar's lines. Several men fell, cries of agony ripped from their throats. Balaq let loose another volley, then another one in quick succession. "Brace!" Balaq turned quickly to Aegon, and the man ducked behind a shield. Aegon ducked and lowered his helmet as arrows pelted his line and killed several of his archers. The thundering of hooves caught Aegon's attention. He looked up to see a company of mounted Dornish archers ride from the right wing feathering Aegon's men.

When the mounted Archers passed, a company of knights rushed at Aegon's center. "Fall back, move it you miserable bastards!" Balaq shoved and kicked his men to the rear of the line. Aegon followed suit, he found a servant waiting for him with his horse. Aegon mounted the beast and raised Blackfyre.

"Close ranks!" Aegon ordered, the short burst of the horn followed. The pikemen closed ranks and created a prickly wall of spikes. The attackers instantly lost their nerve and broke off under a hail of arrows from Balaq, sending volleys from behind the pikemen. "Brace!" Aegon shouted when the Dornish horse archers came around for another run.

"To the seven hells with them!" Robert rode with a company of his knights. Some fifty men total, they passed through the adjacent Spearmen company and rode hard against the coming archers. The Dornishmen were too slow on the retreat and despite the speed of their Sand Steeds. Robert smashes against them their bigger war horses utterly crushing the light cavalry. Aegon' watches Baratheon swing his hammer like a feather with one hand. He caved in a Dornishman's chest and tore another's arm off from the sheer force of the hit. The Dornish archers drew blades and failed miserably against the plate wearing knights. The commander wisely withdrew, but not before Robert killed another three men. As the Dornishmen withdrew, they pelted Robert's knights with arrows. They managed to kill a knight's horse right under him, but he was quickly helped up, and Robert retreated back into the line.

"The coward fears us, he won't commit!" Robert barked, riding up to his King.

"Prince Rhaegar is no fool, our victories have made him cautious." Aegon looked towards the loyalist, they stopped just short of Balaq's range. The Prince's front ranks parted, and Archers formed up. "Shite, have the center fall back, a hundred yards!" The warhorn blew tow long blares. Without breaking formation, the men started to move back in a light jog. Arrows flew into the air, Aegon cursed when more of his pikemen fell to their arrows. He attacks my center exclusively, I have heard naught from Stark or Valerion. Aegon glares to his enemies across the field. They let loose two mover volleys before Aegon is out of range. It clicks in his mind, that was his plan, to create a gap in his lines. The loyalist blew their horns at either side of Aegon. Now the real battle began.

"Well played, but we won't fall so easily. Stand strong, today we become immortal, and the annals of history will remember, we ended the reign of the Mad King!" his men roared in approval, they closed ranks and raised pikes and spears. Prince Rhaegar's foot marched for the river, over their heads arrows flew to feather Aegon's army. Balaq returned the favor and let loose his own volleys. Back and forth, both armies rained iron on one another. When the loyalist reached The Trident, their archers ceased their attack.

Aegon's men shifted at the sheer size of the enemy host. But they were battle harden, with two victories on their side. The pikemen braced, and the spearmen raised their shields, and with a thunderous roar, Prince Rhaegar's men smashed against Aegon's. Steel cracked against steel, and the screams of men created a haunting chorus for the battle. TheBlackfyre king looked towards Robert, and the Stormlord nodded silently. "With me lads, break these whoresons!" Robert organized the vanguard, and Aegon watched the lines. Prince Rhaegar was pushing his numerical advantage, as he doubled up on his Dornish spears fighting the pikemen. The smaller company of pikes had suffered substantial casualties from Rahegar's mounted archers. Brave and discipline as his men were, they would not hold.

"Ready!" Robert's battlefield voice boomed over the chaos. Aegon drew up Blackfyre and rode back to join him. The vanguard held most of the cavalry, a gamble on Aegon's part. Hopefully, the added numbers would be enough, and Prince Rhaegar would fall.

"We can't hold em!" Aegon's soldiers lamented.

The Dornish must have heard this, for they embolden and cut a swath through the pikes. With a heavy heart, Aegon watched the company dissolve into chaos break. "Charge!" Robert's order was almost as loud as the warhorn that followed. With a snap of the reins, Aegon tore through the field right behind Robert. The Dornishmen hastily try to assemble, but their charge smashed into their lines crushing them beneath their weight. Aegon slashed Blackfyre until he felt his arm had gone numb. The Dornish spear company was no more, now it was just men trying to flee. The poor sous found no mercy Robert or him, they rode them down as they scattered to the field.

A horn blared three times, Aegon's head snapped up. Tearing through the field, knights with lances down bared down on them. Leading them, was a man in black armor flying the red dragon. Aegon gritted his teeth and held his reins tighter. "Rhaegar!" Aegon swore Robert's shout shook the earth. The Stormlord hastily assembled the Vanguard into formation. "Beneath the gold, the bittersteel!" Robert roared and charged.

"Beneath the gold, the bittersteel!" Aegon repeated and followed Robert, Blackfyre resting on his shoulder at the ready position. The sound of steel on steel reverberated in Aegon's ears. His sword bites into armor. He feels something bang against his head. The ground rushes to meet him, and there is a horn in the distance.

Eddard

"There!" Ned pointed his lance at the advancing Targaryen line. Prince Rhaegars left wing was folding to fall on the gap that formed to Ned's left.

"Your orders, my Lord?" Roose Bolton's voice for once was above a whisper and audible.

"Piss on them, don't let them buckler our center. For King Aegon Blackfyre, for The North!" Ned's voice was like the howling wolf. He slammed down his visor, and his men sounded the horn. The northern cavalry splashed into the ford aiming for the loyalist exposed flank. The gallop was short, Ned's lance struck true beneath a knights armpit. The lance broke, and Ned barreled through the mass of horses and knights. His warhorse reared its head blowing through the loyalist. From his saddle, Ned drew Ice and went about his bloody work.

The loyalist buckled, but they fought with on. Through the haze of men and steel, Ned could see the loyalist rear. He hacked at any man who approached, Ice cut through armor and shield. The river quickly turned a dark red. The ground was dug up, and the horses started sinking into the soft ground. Ned watched many men be flung from their horses. Others desperately tried to stand only to be knocked back down to drown in the river. Ned's own horse struggled under him his hooves trying to find sure footing.

"Die rebel dog!" Ned leaned back, a mace nearly caved his head in. He swung Ice only to be parried, and the man stabs at him with his mace. Ned's horse reared, and it took every ounce of strength to hold on. He nearly fell to a watery grave. When his horse went down, Ned cut down with Ice in an unsteady one hand chop. His attacker did not expect it, Ned cut his arm with a spray of blood. Fall! Ned gritted his teeth and cut the man down from shoulder to hip. The Knight fell off his horse, his surcoat had a dagger and mace on it.

"The Hand is dead!" A voice among many caught Ned's attention.

"Don't falter, for Prince Rhaegar!" A white cloak billowed in the wind, and four men barreled down to him. On their breasts, a man with a plow on a field of black.

"Protect your Lord!" Mark, Jorah, and William rallied around Ned.

"For the North!" Ned yelled over the chaos, they clashed amidst the chaos of the river. Ned's sword flashed as the Kingsguard parried him at every turn. Ned fought with every ounce of his being, his arms grew sore and numb. The Kingsguard grunted, and his counterattacks became slower. A growl tore itself from Ned's lungs. He parried a strike from the Kingsguard above him. He twisted Ice to let the sword slide and plunge it into the Kingsguard's heart. Red stained the Kingsugard's surcoat, he drew back Ice and let the knight slump over his horse.

"Fight, do not leave your king's side unguarded!" Another knight, courageous as the last rallied the loyalist. His personal guard grouped around him, letting him catch his breath.

"Hold!" Ned gasped for breath, "break them here and end this war!" Ned raised Ice, and his men rushed once more into the thick of it.

Valerion

The Black Prince pulled his sword from the Dornishman's ribs. Ser Edmure and his Brave Companions kept a close watch on his right flank. Valerion bared his teeth, the mere thought sent a burning fury through his veins. He channeled that fury into each swipe of his sword, felling one man after the other. "My Prince!" Ser Edmure, scale armor coated in blood pointed his sword into the thick of the battle. The Kingsguard, Valerion remembered him to be Ser Lewyn Martell, a knight of some renown. This is where I prove I am still a formidable warrior! Valerion spun his sword and lifted it above his head.

"With me! Kill these whoresons!" The Black Prince charged ahead, albeit clumsily over the corpses in the river. Ser Lewyn turned his steed on them, he raised his bloodied sword and charged with far more men at his back than Valerion. The Black Prince roared a dragon's roar and hacked his way through the men coming for him. Stab through the throat, stab through the heart, cut another's belly open, butchers work. Valerion hardly had to look at the poor sods, they fought well enough, but he was better and was armored. So many spears and sword glided off his armor, he only bothered to parry strikes meant for his blind side.

The Black Prince slew one last man before reaching Ser Lewyn. The field was clear, ser Edmure and his knights had cut a bloody swath to ensure it. Yet, Valerion found Ser Lewyn pinned under his horse, barely keeping his helmed head above the water. I won't let water steal my glory Valerion dismounted, his horse threatened to bolt on him, but Valerion placed a calming hand on him. This one was a finicky one, nothing like his previous horse. He stalked towards Ser Lewyn with a sword in hand. Ser Lewyn froze, seizing his struggles when he saw Valerion. He lifted his visor, brown eyes staring into lilac. "Do you yield Ser?" Valerion pointed his sword at the knight's throat.

For a moment, Ser Lewyn looked beaten, but only for a moment, "make it quick," he uttered.

Valerion grinned a face-splitting grin. "Well said Ser," Valerion sheathed his sword and with great strength lifted the horse enough to allow Ser Lewyn to crawl out of it. The Dornish knight scrambled to his feet, picking up his sword from the mud. Valerion dropped the horse and drew his blade.

"King Aegon?" Ser Lewyn asked.

"Valerion, cousin to the king and heir apparent." Valerion nodded.

"Ah, it won't be as a grand a tale, but it will still be glorious." Ser Lewyn drew up his sword, ready for combat.

"Likewise, die well Ser," Valerion offered a firm nod and raised his sword.

"Defend yourself!" Ser Lewyn made the first move; his blade caught the sun and blinded Valerion briefly. Experience taught him to sidestep, and parry a cut meant for his neck. Valerion recovered quickly and hacked at Ser Lewyn with murderous intent. Their steel sang, both men skillfully evading and countering at the slightest opening. Ser Lewyn locked their blades if only for a second, the Kingsguard half handed and drove the crossguard to Valerion's right temple. Valerion fell backs tunned keeping his sword up to keep the gap between them. Ser Lewyn stepped into a cut knocking Valerion's blade aside.

"Shite!" Valerion cursed sidestepped and delivered a vicious blow on Ser Lewyn's head. The knight faltered to a knee, holding his head. Valerion seized his advantage and went to take the Kingsguard's head. Ser Leywn ducked turning on his knee and stabbed between Valerion's leg. The blade broke through the mail and cut into his inner thigh. Valerion gritted his teeth and swung on Ser Lewyn's head. The knight drew back his sword parried and pressed the attack.

Valerion grunted forced to block his opponent's skillful attacks. Ser Lewyn was a flurry of movement, his cloak billowing behind him. Valerion evaded an overhead cut and hit Ser Lewyn with his crossguard across the side of his helm. The Black Prince stepped forward and delivered a savage blow to the back of Lewyn's head. The Kingsguard staggered and swiped at Valerion while turning. Valerion caught one of these swings battering the sword away. Ser Lewyn was left wide open, and Valerion stabbed at his neck. The Kingsguard voided the stab and drew up his sword beneath Valerion's armpit. He slid the sword cutting beneath valerion's armpit.

Valerion dropped his sword, pain shooting down his arm. I'm not done! Valerion grabbed his dirk from his belt. Ser Lewyn raised his sword for a crushing blow. Valerion deflected the blow, guiding it away as he put his hand on Ser Lewyn's wrist pushing away from himself. The Black Prince drove the dirk right into Ser Lewyn's exposed armpit to the hilt. The Dornishman screamed, then kneed Valerion on his injured thigh. His leg gave out from the pain and Valeiron fell to a knee. Ser Lewyn stepped back, then dropped to a knee. He perched himself on his sword, his free hand holding the dirk.

"My Prince!" Ser Edmure and some of his brave companions crowded around them, forming a protective ring. Ser Lewyn was surrounded, but even then, the Kingsguard did not yield. He got to his feet and pulled the dirk out of his armpit. Sword in his bloodstained hands, he charged Valerion. The Black Prince obliged, feeling a second wind he stood and met Ser Lewyn. They clashed blades, their swings tired but no less skillful. Valerion dropped back, letting a swing miss him, he drew up and with a mighty roar drove his sword for Ser Lewyn's throat. The Dornish Knight staggered, the movement caused Valerion's to miss his target and slide off the knight's helm. Ser Lewyn fell forward, landing on a fallen horse. Valerion staggered forward, dropping his sword, falling onto his knees.

"Grab him!" Ser Edmure yelled Valerion started to feel dizzy, the world began to spin around him. Someone grabbed him and said something. Perhaps it was meant for him, the voices were all muddled together now, he didn't know who was saying what.

"They're coming!"

"No time, let's go!"

"But!"

"To the other side of the river!"

"A horn is that the retreat!"

"A route, it's a route!"

The world finally faded from view and Valerion heard no more.

Robert

"Rhaegar! Face me, coward!" Robert's voice was like a hammer hitting the anvil. His retinue of stormlanders guarded his flanks, while Robert smashed his way through the loyalist. All the while, he called out for Rhaegar to face him in single combat. "All these deaths are on you coward, face me!" Robert smashed a knight's head, the helmet warped around the man's head, and he fell face first into the bloody river.

"Come forth, you Dragonspawn!" Robert flipped his hammer and drove the spike into another poor sods skull. The horse rode away, nearly taking Robert's hammer with him. The Stormlord simply lited his arm, letting the spike slide from the destroyed helm. Two more men, poor knights for sure, only in a mail hauberk. Robert made short of them, hitting the first knight to reach him so hard he was flung from his horse. The other put up more of a fight, trying to avoid Robert's strikes. With a guttural growl, Robert grabbed his hammer with both hands swung for the knight's midsection. He put his shield up, it did not save him. Robert flipped the hammer at last second, driving the spike through the shield stabbing into his arm. The knight let go of his sword, and Robert pulled his hammer back from the shield. The Stormlord grabbed the shield, pushing it down, clearing the way for Robert to deliver a murderous hit with his hammer. The Knight;'s neck snapped, his skin tore, and only his mail coif kept his head from flying off his body. Instead, his horse rode away with the knight's head bobbed up and down on his back.

"Seven hells," Ser Beric Dondarrion, rode up to his liege lord. "Over there!" Ser Beric pointed to downriver. Sure enough, Robert saw him, Rhaegar Targaryen slaying some hedge knights fighting for Robert. The Prince of Dragonstone was clad in black armor with a three-headed dragon headdress. The Prince's black cloak billowed in the wind as he slew any man who came near.

A fire burned in Robert's belly, he tightened the grip on his hammer. His horse snorted angrily, sharing in its riders fury. Robert prepared to order his men to charge with him.

"Seven preserve us, it's the King!" Lord Selwyn Tarth pointed to the Kings banner, swarmed by the loyalist upriver.

"My Lord, we must save the King!" Ser Beric turned his horse to face Robert. He's right there! Robert glanced back to Prince Rhaegar, he was cutting a bloody path through their men. He'd reach the footmen soon.

Forgive me Lyanna, Robert turned to face the Kings banner. "With me lads, your king needs you!" Robert rallied his men and charged upriver. Their path was impeded by the many corpses strewn about. Each step had his horse snort frustrated as his hooves sank into the dug up river bed. They reached the king without much momentum. But the men attacking the King took notice and turned to stop them. Robert smashed them with impunity. Robert's horse tried forcing his way through the mass of beast and men. Ser Beric brought his left, and Lord Tarth his right.

The skirmish was bloody, and Robert was battered with everything from swords to maces. His fury dulled any pain, and he delivered twice the damage he received. His once pristine surcoat was a mess of red and gore from all the men Robert had slain. He was able to drive a wedge into the mass of men breaking through to the King's center. Seven hells! A white cloak with a surcoat of wheat clad in white armor, it could be none other than Ser Barristan Selmy. He was cutting men down as if they were made of straw. Each man he killed drew him closer to the fallen form of King Aegon. Robert kicked his horse and charged into the fray.

Roberts hammered saved a knight from a finishing blow. Ser Barristan immediately countered against Robert. His sword flashed as quick as lighting, and Robert was hard pressed to keep up with his heavier Warhammer. Their mounts started circling each other, and Robert had to use every technique he had ever learned to fight off the Kingsguard. Ser Barristan feinted from above, and Robert swung, leaving him open. The Knight slashed horizontally, the blade smacked him across the face, and he staggered. The Stormlord raised his hammer at the last second and caught Ser Barristan's next attack. Robert veered the stab off course and swung the hammer for his opponent's neck.

Ser Barristan ducked stabbed beneath Roberts armpit. Robert brought down his gauntlet over the sword just as Ser Barristan drew back leaving only a shallow cut beneath his arm. Pushing the attack, Robert swung up from below, forcing Ser Barristan back. The Kingsguard followed up with with an overhead strike. Robert dodged but brought up his hammer catching the blade. With his great strength, Robert swung up to disarm Ser Barristan. The Knight quickly drew back his sword and smacked Robert across the face again. The blow rattled the Stormlords head, but Robert was ready, he pushed off his stirrups and dove on Ser Barristan.

The knight's blade slipped from his hand, and they both went into the river. Robert drew the hunting knife given to him by Jon. The Stormlord struck, and the Kingsguard hand shot out like a cobra grabbing Roberts wrist. His free hand shot up drove a dirk between the plates on Roberts pauldron. The dirk burrowed into his arm, electing a growl of fury. The Knight in a feat of surprising strength bucked Robert off him. Surprised, the Stormlrod swallowed a gulp of water as he fell down. Robert tried to lift his hammer, but Ser Barristan grabbed his wrist and struck for Robert's neck. Robert just barely put his wrist against Ser Barristans. At this moment, Robert's strength failed him as he gasped in more water, and he felt his muscles cease up.

"My Lord!" Another armored figure tackled Ser Barristan off Robert. The Stormlord was able to sit up and cough up water.

"I can't breath, I can't bloody breath!" Robert choked out and removed his antlered helm to gasp for air. Robert turned and saw Ser Barristan with a dirk sticking from his neck. Ser Beric kneeling over the knight, holding his bleeding side.

"Beric!" Ned coughed out and got back to his feet, the chaos of the battle raging around him.

"Slipped the dirk between my breastplate," Beric explained grimaced.

"The King!" Robert groggily stood back up, hammer in hand. He picked up his helm, putting it on again. Robert staggered to Ser Beric and helped him to his feet, he guided him his own horse and helped him on it. The rest of Roberts personal guard finally cut a path to the back. "Take him, take the king back, I'm going to finish this damn battle!" Robert found Ser Barristan's horse and climbed on.

"My Lord, you're wounded!" Ser Beric insisted.

"Do not disobey me Ser, go and safeguard our King." Robert reined the horse in, while the other knights helped put the King behind Ser Beric. Robert's horse was the only one strong enough to hold to men in full plate. "The rest of you come with me and let's kill us a dragon!" Robert's men cheered, and he began a slow trudge downriver to find Prince Rhaegar again.

Despite his wounds, Robert brandished his hammer with impunity. His fury kept any pain at bay as he grounded men down hunting for Rhaegar. It wasn't until Robert reached the ford maker that the Stormlord found Prince Rhaegar. He was leading his knights against their foot. Robert roared and forced his mount to charge at the dragon prince. I'm coming for you, you whoreson!

"Protect the Prince!" a Knight with a redfish on his surcoat blocked Roberts path. The Stormlord made short work of him, caving his head in with a single swing of the hammer. One last fool stood between Robert and Rhaegar, and it pained Robert; it was one his own bannermen. The skulls and lips on the knight's surcoat gave him away. You took my beloved and turned my own men against me! Robert's fury engulfed him once more. He swung his hammer with inhuman strength that he dismounted Ser Richard Lonmouth.

"Rhaegar!" Robert bellowed out the name as they finally crossed arms. Rhaegar was armed with traditional arms of a knight, sword, and shield. The jewels on his sword and breastplate caught the sun lighting the prince in ethereal light. Robert swung, and the prince expertly parried each swing.

"Cousin!" The Prince yelled out, and Robert only roared in anger.

"Do not call me kin!" Robert grabbed his hammer with both hands delivered blow after blow on the Prince. His fatigue, his wounds, nothing slowed him down. The moment they started this battle, he ceased to be human and was vengeance in flesh and bone!

"I shall not ask again, yield!" The Prince parried a strike ant stabbed beneath Roberts armpit. The blade dug in, but Robert ignored the pain and swung at Rheagar's chest. The Prince lifted his shield, taking the blow the last second.

"Give her back! Where is she answer me!" Robert swung and smashed what was left of Prince Rhaeagar's shield.

"My Prince!" A daft cunt cut in Robert's opinion charged him, Robert took his head off, sending it flying into the battle. The headless man rode past them both.

"Lord Baratheon, Lyanna!" The Prince's voice was regretful, but perhaps it was only his mind tricking him. Robert only felt his ire rise tenfold hearing his beloved's name come from the whoreson.

"Do not say her name!" Robert threw blow after blow that would have killed a lesser man. But the Prince of Dragonstone parried every blow and delivered his own precise attacks. Robert parried what he could and let his armor take care of the ones he could not. Their horses snorted and rounded one another.

Just out of the corner of his eye, he watched his brave men hold off the dragon's reinforcements. They fought equally as savagely as Robert worked to end the battle once and for all. Die, die die! His purpose was singular, Robert's castle could be in flames right behind Rhaegar, and still, he would be blind to it. "I will end this, for the realm!" the prince dejectedly shouted back at Robert.

Prince Rhaegar swung for Robert's neck. Robert ducked, and Rhaegar's sword caught his antlers. The antler fell from Robert's helm. "Lyanna!" Robert, with every fiber of his being, swung his hammer at the exposed Prince. With a crack like a god's fist, Robert smashed his Warhammer into Prince Rhaegars chest. It was a moment of utter bliss and horror for everyone around him.

The rubies from the Prince's chest were flung into the river, the Prince fell from his horse into the stream of corpses. Men rushed against Robert, his own guard brought up the rear, and Robert mindlessly swung his hammer. More men died until horns blared across the battlefield.

"The Prince is dead!" The shout spread like wildfire and the loyalist broke all sense of order. Men cast down their weapons and sprinted in a full retreat.

"Ride the whoresons down!" One of Robert's men yelled, Robert didn't see who. His cavalry simply tore through the river to cut down the fleeing loyalist turning the field into a bloodbath.

As all this happened, Robert was numb, he stared at the broken prince atop a pile of bodies. Robert dismounted his horse, and the beast fled the moment Robert was off it. He did not care, the Stormlord cast away his helmet and drop his hammer. He knelt by the prince and removed his black helm. The prince was alive, wheezing, and gasping with tears in his eyes.

"Where, where is she, where is my beloved!" Robert hissed into Rhaegars face.

"Dssss, wheeze." Whatever the Prince was saying died in his pierced lungs. "Dsss rn." The Prince's eyes fluttered his hand reached out before muttering something. "Lyssansssa."

Robert's face twisted into pain and anger, a tear of sheer frustration dropped against the dead prince face. Robert grabbed the fallen man and simply glared into the man's closed eyes. A guttural scream tore itself from Robert's chest. A scream drowned by the chorus of death around him.

Aegon

"Your Grace!" Aegon gasped for breath, reaching for his sword. Instead, he found his wrist held by somebody.

"Calm yourself, Aegon!" That was Aegon's father. He looked around, finding himself laying down on the bank of the Trident. He sat up, looking around him, to see his men cheer loudly.

"What happened." Aegon stood up, slowly, his head was killing him.

"Brace yourself, my king." Stark held Aegon's shoulder firmly. The King took a moment to steady himself. The river and the field before him were littered with corpses and crows flying overhead. Aegon blinked, then turned to look at the gathered men before him. They looked on worriedly at their king, but Aegon wasn't paying them no heed. He was alive, he wasn't in chains, and his Lords were here.

"By the Seven, we won?" Even coming from his mouth, it sounded impossible.

"Yes, the battle is won, and the way to Kings Landing is clear." His father nodded.

"What happened?" Aegon remembered charing on Prince Rhaegar's position, but that was it.

"I won you the battle is what happened!" Aegon turned to Robert, his armor and surcoat stained in blood. He was tired, but the man never looked strongest.

"Where is Prince Rhaegar?" Aegon asked.

"Burning in the Seven Hells, where his cunt father will follow soon." Robert spat on the ground his fury returning briefly. "Slew the bastard myself, caved his chest in with my Warhammer." Robert lifted his hammer, covered in gore.

"I should have disarmed the bastard, and broken a bone in his body for every time he did not tell me where Lyanna is," Robert growled and turned to leave in a fuming fury.

"Let him rest my king," Ned sighed, looking towards his childhood friend. "We share the same frustrations, Rhaegar Targaryen is dead, my sister's whereabouts die with him." Ned kicked the ground in frustration. "Forgive me, I must see to my men." Ned left Aegon, his northern trailing behind him all hard faced.

"Some King I turned out to be, slept through the whole battle." Aegon rubbed his temples.

"Missed my moment of glory!" Valerion came up behind him. He was free of his armor, and his arm was on a sling. "Of course, I might not be able to take the Iron Throne with you." Valerion grimaced and held his wounded arm.

"What happened to you, Valerion?" Aegon looked at his cousin, just now noticing the limp in his brother's step.

"I fought Ser Lewyn Martell in single combat, he's in my tent. The Maester is tending to his wounds." A smirk crossed Valerion's face. "It would be a shame to let such a good man die."

"He is of Aery's Kingsguard, is it wise to keep him alive?" Aegon narrowed his eyes at his brother.

"He is a man of honor, should he refuse to yield." Valerion trailed off, "well, The Wall is always looking for good men." Valerion shrugged, "or Starks Northmen say."

True enough, killing the man wasn't the only option available to Aegon." Well then, I would have a report on our situation. Casualties etc., and hopefully an update on the Tywin Lannister situation." Aegon turned to leave, only to notice a strong army marching around the rear. "Who in the seven hells are they?" Aegon subconsciously gripped Blackfyre's pommel.

"Our reinforcements," drawled Aegon's father. "Lord Walder Frey finally mustered his bannermen," a small grin cracked his father's face. "Lord Hoster is already calling him, the late Lord Walder Frey." He even chuckled a bit.

"Right, I will treat with my Lords in my tent." Aegon looked around for a moment, seemingly lost.

"A horse for the king!" Ser Edmure rode down his scale armor bloody. He dismounted his horse and offered it to Aegon. "Thank you, Ser Edmure." Aegon took the horse, and the Tully heir merely tipped his head with a toothy grin.

Aegon's ride back to camp was without glamor. His men would bow to him and carry on with their tasks. The grim task at that. Collecting wounded, and giving the Strangers peace to the ones beyond saving. Silent Sisters stalked battlefield, delivering a quite blade to those in need of it. The crows meanwhile gorged themselves in the feast left for them. Funeral pyres were lit and thank the seven upwind from the camp.

By the day's end, the night was lit by hundreds of funeral pyres. The camp set on a hill, so Aegon atop his horse could look out to the hundreds of flames and men huddled by them. Septons gave sermons, and the Northmen quietly prayed to their faceless gods. When morning came, Aegon was given a brief of their situation. Their casualties manageable some three thousand men lost their lives in the battle. Of note, Ser Lyn Corboray's father died this very morning of his wounds. As he lay dying, he bequeaths Lady Forlon to his younger son Lyn Corbray. Aegon watched his older brother Lyonel, barely conceal his anger at the matter.

Eddard Stark as well had another of his personal guard die, in Theo Wull. A blow from a mace left him lame and barely aware of his surroundings. Lord Stark himself perform the mercy killing with a face betraying no emotion. Thankfully the notable losses stopped there. Meanwhile, the loyalist army was utterly broken. Aegon's army pursued the broken loyalist day and night, before returning this morning. No man was rallying the lost souls marching back to Kings Landing. The once mighty host of forty thousand men were cut down to an estimated fifteen thousand at most.

The Loyalist lost was substantial, Ser Lewyn Martell was now their prisoner. Ser Mooton, who had saved the loyalist at the Stony Sept, was slain by Robert. Ser Richard Lonmouth barely escaped death and was now in chains. Lord Arnold Darry was also killed, his son Ser Raymon Darry now a captive bent the knee. Lord Stark himself slew Aery's Hand of the King Lord Qarlton was cut in two by Lord Stark on the ford of the Trident. Ser Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard as well met his end, a knight of great renown and the honor went to Ser Beric. The Knight tried denying the fact, saying Robert should earn praise, he fought Ser Barristan to a near standstill. Lord Robert would have none of it, his sour mood from the day before was gone, and he praised Ser Beric. Several Crownland banners bent the knee and swelled Aegon's numbers with their now meager personal retinues. Their victory had cost them, but soon, the war was going to end.

Aegon ordered the second day of rest and prepared to march the next morning. While he oversaw the preparations, Ser Harry Strickland of all people rode to him frazzled and out of breath. "My King! My King!" Harry slumped on his horse, gasping for breath.

Aegon rolled his eyes and gestured for one of his man to hand him a water skin. Harry drank his fill and wiped his mouth afterward. "Well, speak, man, come on," Aegon demanded.

"It was a ruse! Lord Tywin had gathered his men at Lannisport, not The Golden Tooth! He is now marching on Kings Landing with ten thousand men!" Harry waved his arms around frantically.

"Has he declared for anybody?" Aegon demanded.

"I don't know, Ser Brynden took Ser Richard and rode to intercept Lord Tywin's army." Harry put his hand against his chest, finally calming down.

"Damn, he will have an advantage if he reaches Kings Landing first. Someone fetch me, Lord Stark!" Aegon demanded. Three of the men with him quickly rode off. Aegon ordered Harry to get some rest and food, Strickland happily obliged. An hour later, Lord Stark arrived.

"Your Grace, how may I serve?" Stark bowed atop his horse.

"Lord Tywin has made his move, he rides for Kings Landing," Aegon explained.

"Troubling, I assume he has not made his intentions clear." Stark was perceptive, the king could admit that.

"Aye, I want you to ride south, take a vanguard of Northmen and escort my Lord father to meet with Lord Tywin," Aegon said.

"My Lord, how many men should we bring?" A fair question, speed was of the essence.

"Five hundred mounted knights or Northmen of yours," Aegon said.

Stark nodded but did not leave to do s told, "My King." Stark began, "If Lord Tywin declares for Aerys, should I die. I would ask you to have Ashara, and my child is taken safely to Winterfell." Ned quietly lamented.

"I understand, you have my word, Lord Stark." Aegon clasped hands with the Northman and Stark left to assemble his men and Aegon's Lord father. While every man went to do as the King commanded, Aegon looked on to his army. The war was coming to a close, one way or another, everything would end at Kings Landing.

Hello there, I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide. Well, I came back, that was nonsense what I just said back there. Did you miss me? I understand if you're more mad than glad, I was gone for quite a long time. But to be honest, I found it necessary. I went into a self-imposed exile, which went on for nearly three years now. But as things stood, I was not very happy with my writing. I was relying on far too much on the goodwill of my fellow readers. I needed to be better, to improve so one day I can make my own book and hopefully read fanfics about my own work out there. But I digress, thank you all for this continued support, I hope finishing this short story will lead us to greater things. As for my earlier projects? Well, I think I will be taking a sledgehammer to them and reworking them from the ground up.

I hope you all understand, I want to be better, so I will rework my content into something better. As a note on that, I will be rewriting the A Song of Ice and Fire series I started some time ago. I am no longer happy with it, I feel more characters and plots needing expanding upon. Not to mention I wasn't as involved into the lore of the books as I am now. I will leave the story where it is…for now. If you guys prefer it, I can leave it there when the rewrite is up as well.

Well then, that's enough of that. Let's answer some questions long since needing answering shall we?

Vir Italicus: I hope what little of Ned is in these chapters sedates your curiosity, he is overall the same as I pictured him as a young man. Softspoken, but a warrior when necessary. I hope I showed as well how he feels a bit out of his element being Lord Stark. The doubts about using Ice come from the very idea this sword was never meant to be his. But now, I think after the Stoney Sept, Ned is stepping well into his role as the Warden of the North. Now concerning Ashford? I think Robert was ambushed honestly, that's why I portrayed it as I did. Randyl Tarly never struck me like a waiting man. If he has the chance to take the battle to the enemy, by god he's going to do it. Catching Robert on march seemed the opportune time. I hope that answers your question!

TMI Fairy: I hope I "subverted your expectations," hah. I had always planned for Jon to die, but in hindsight, I think I should have had Ned or Robert be there for Jon's final battle. Connington is another I knew had to die. Not out of personal hatred, but because of his hunger for glory and approval from Rhaegar made him more reckless. Had Mooton not called for the retreat, well, I don't think there was going to be a battle of the Trident. Aegon would have been confident of meeting Rhaegar, and probably thirty to twenty-five thousand men. I believe a vast bulk of the forces from the crownlands coming with Rhaegar, had to be the forces that escaped the Stoney Sept. Rhaegar, I think would have only matched Roberts numbers had Connington fallen and the army not reiterated in good order. But yeah, Ser Denys is now Lord of the Vale and Warden of the East. Lysa Tully has a handsome husband and Petyr, I can assure you is a distant memory to her.

Random Person: Lol, well you got your wish, Jon Connington died. Wounded by Jon Arryn, he lost his head to Ser Denys.

Reichenfaust: Oh, thank you! I hope chapters four and five are to your liking as well! Barkas strategy at Cannae was brilliant. He decimated an overconfident and haughty opponent despite his inferior numbers. But this would not work here. The loyalists don't benefit from engaging Robert, they need to hold for reinforcements. I didn't see Lord Fell giving chase to Aegon when he had nothing to gain from it. Aegon and Robert knew this, so they took the initiative and buckled Lord Fells center with MOTHER EFFING WAR ELEPHANTS! As far as the ambush by Randyl Tarly, I agree. As Robert eloquently put it, they got caught with their breeches down and both hands on their cocks. Randyl is a harsh man, but a soldier through and through. I imagined he forced a night march, hell he probably had his men march ahead of Aegon's position. Take the day to rest and then use the next day to catch Aegon and his men unaware. If there was one thing I hated about GOT later seasons, is how piss-poor it was to military strategy. Nobody and I do mean freaking nobody in that damn show knows how to freaking scout. Seriously, Stannis got screwed by "twenty good men?" Were his scouts writing their name in the snow they didn't notice a party of twenty asshats sneaking about? Jon didn't know about the Vale reinforcements? Aren't the Wildings expert trackers and hunters? Not one of them noticed a bunch of mounted knights? Don't even get me started on the Loot Train battle. Jaime had just said in the previous episode, he learned from his defeat by Robb Stark. Apparently not, because he allowed a hundred thousand Dothraki and a BLEEDING dragon to fuck him in the ass. Oi, the writing post season four. Nothing short of tragic, so I thought I'd let the good people here know what proper freaking military strategy should look like! But I digress, I'm not saying I'm some master tactician, but I sure as hell am better than anyone in the damn show seems to be.

Alright, that's all folks, I shall see you next time, maybe even expect a prologue chapter for the rewrite of A Song of Ice and Fire soon.