The Direwolf's Fury

A Game of Thrones Fanfiction

By Snafu the Great

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to HBO. George Martin still hates fanfiction. A fan of mine who read The Dragon Returns emailed me and asked to do a one-shot of the Red Wedding. Not one to back down from a challenge, I accepted. We all know how it plays out, with Tywin Lannister sitting back and letting the Freys get their hands dirty in wiping out Robb Stark and his forces. But what if Robb knew of the betrayal at the hands of the Freys and Roose Bolton and decided to change his own fate? This time around, all of the Freys are bad, Roslin included. Part of the inspiration from the story came from The Red Wedding by Skyrimfan.

Part One

It was the second night in a row that Robb Stark had the dream.

A wedding at the Twins. The Rains of Castamere playing. His wife stabbed to death by Lothar Frey. Grey Wind peppered with crossbow bolts. His bannermen slaughtered as Walder Frey watched from his place at the table. His body riddled with arrows. His mother's throat slit. Roose Bolton's words in his head before plunging a knife into his heart.

"The Lannisters send their regards."

And all he could do was watch helpless as the Freys and Boltons chopped his head off and stitched Grey Wind's head on it, parading it through the burning camp, chanting, "All hail the King of the North!"

Then darkness.

"You must stop them."

Robb spun around. "Father?"

Eddard Stark stood behind him, his expression one of sadness. He smiled, but that too, seemed sad. "You've grown, son. I'm so proud of you."

Robb's voice caught in his throat. The last time he had seen his father was that day he had left for King's Landing. Months later, while on campaign, he was executed on a whim by the boy king.

"What you have seen are shadows of what will be, if you don't change your fate," Ned said. "You must stop the Freys and Bolton. You must avenge me. You must rescue Sansa and Arya."

"How? Who can I trust?"

"You can trust your mother's family. They will not desert you. Nor will the Brotherhood, as they are loyal to Robert."

The Brotherhood Without Banners. A motley crew of swordsmen and former knights loyal to his late father and King Robert, led by Beric Dondarrion. They had joined up with his bannermen and were waging guerrilla warfare on the Lannisters.

"Why?" Robb demanded. "Why did Joffrey kill you? You are no traitor."

"I was killed because I discovered the secret in regards to Joffrey and his siblings," his father replied. "Robert was not their true father. They are the product of incest between Cersei and Jamie Lannister."

"And if Robert found out that both Jamie and Cersei went the way of the Targaryens, then he would have killed them himself."

Ned nodded. "Yes."

Robb Stark opened his eyes. He was back inside his tent, in bed. His wife was snuggled next to him. Both were naked. The rain had let up, but was still sporadic.

It would be dawn in several hours, and they were still three days' march away from The Twins. The dreams were leaving him troubled, and he was now watching Roose Bolton with a wary eye.

Gently removing himself from his wife's warm embrace, Robb quietly slipped on a pair of breeches and donned a tunic. He needed some time to think.

Robb walked through the camp, exchanging pleasantries with the sentries and the soldiers patrolling the camp. He made sure to steer clear of any of the Bolton bannermen.

While on his way to the Twins, Robb and the Northerners had came across the Brotherhood Without Banners. Originally created by his late father to hunt down Gregor Cleagne, they had instead transformed into a a fighting force two thousand strong, dedicated to protecting the weak from corrupt noblemen. Against the council of Roose Bolton, he had a sit-down with Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr, and the Brotherhood had decided to throw in their lot with the King of the North.

The camp was by the river, a place where he spent time with Talisa. Now, as Robb approached, he saw that he was not alone. Sitting up against a tree, sharpening his sword, was the second-in-command of the Brotherhood Without Banners, the red priest from Myr, Thoros.

Robb frowned. Thoros was whistling that cursed song. He was starting to hate The Rains of Castamere.

"Good morning, Milord," Thoros greeted. "Lovely weather we are having, aren't we?"

"Pleasant," Robb replied with sarcasm. "I never really liked the rain."

"You look like you have something on your mind," Thoros pointed out.

"I do." Robb said. Thoros was not a septon or a maester, but he would have to do. "What do you know about dreams?"

"Dreams are the gateway to the soul, Milord," replied Thoros. "They can also show you of things yet to come. Why you ask?"

"You'd probably think that I am crazy if I tell you this."

"Milord, I serve the Lord of Light. I've revived Beric no less than six times with my power. Believe me when I say that I've seen and heard worse. Humor me."

Thoros held his tongue as Robb told him of the dreams he had for the past two nights.

"Hmm...those are not dreams, Lord Stark. They are visions. It's not common for some people to receive such visions," Thoros said. "But you...it seems that the Gods - the old, new and maybe R'hllor himself - have found favor in you. You have seen the impending treachery at the hands of Walder Frey and his conspirators. You have the chance to change your fate. If you fail to heed the warnings, then you, your wife and your mother will die at the Twins and Roose Bolton will be Warden of the North."

Robb nodded. "You do realize that what is said here is not to be repeated?"

"Of course, Milord."

"Thank you for your council. I must think on this."

Thoros nodded and went back to sharpening his sword. Robb turned around and walked back to his tent. Talisa had continued to sleep, and did not notice his leaving. He returned to his bed and slept.

This time, his slumber was without dreams.

The weather had once again brought the bannermen to a standstill, thus delaying them from traveling to the Twins. More than enough time for Robb to decide on a course of action.

Incapacitating Roose Bolton was easy enough. Talisa had switched out Roose's drinking water with that filled with a tasteless sedative, designed to help one sleep. Roose was a creature of habit, usually eating alone inside his tent, of which Robb used to his advantage.

With Roose Bolton out cold from the drugged water, Robb Stark began to formulate a plan to ensure that he and the others survived the hell that was going to descend upon them all, which is why he had convened a late-night emergency meeting.

As both Catelyn and Talisa would be present to the wedding of Edmure Tully, both his mother and wife were present. The Blackfish had a habit of being prepared for anything, and had detailed maps of the Twins on hand, in the event of a siege. Aside from Robb, Catelyn, Talisa, the Blackfish, Edmure Tully and the Greatjon Umber, Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr were also present.

"What is said here must not go beyond this room," Robb said without preamble. "We have been betrayed."

The gathered war council exchanged looks. "Betrayed?" repeated the Blackfish. "By who?"

"Roose Bolton and Walder Frey has turned their cloaks and have joined the Lannisters. We will be betrayed during Cousin Edmure's wedding to one of Frey's daughters. I also have it on good faith that Rolph Spicer and his sister have gone over to the Lannisters as well."

"How do you know this?" asked Cat.

"Father warned me in a dream," Robb replied. He then told them the visions he had seen in graphic detail, and of Ned Stark's warning.

"Looks like the gods have you in their favor," Edmure said. "I'm not one to quarrel with Fortune, yet it's clear she has taken you for a pet."

"We should just butcher Bolton and the Freys, and be done with it," the Greatjon rumbled.

"No," the Blackfish replied. "If we strike first, with us close to the Twins, then it would appear that we have violated the guest right." He unrolled the map of the Twins and looked over the dining hall area. "From what Robb has told us, the Freys will have men armed with crossbows on the balconies and sellswords disguised as servants." He tapped the map. "Our men will be camped outside of the Twins and will be slaughtered by the Freys and Boltons."

"We outnumber them three-to-one," Cat pointed out. "How will this play out?"

"By getting the men drunk," Robb replied. "It is a wedding, after all. Walder Frey believes that we think that he will honor the guest right, and will use that to his advantage."

Beric then had a stroke on inspiration. "Lord Stark, you said that the massacre will begin with The Rains of Castamere as their signal?"

Robb nodded.

Beric grinned. "Some of the men with the Brotherhood are talented musicians as well as skilled fighters. We switch out Old Man Frey's musicians with ours, but with a minor difference. Tom Sevenstrings will sing The Rains of Castamere."

Edmure frowned. He had grievances with the musician for several past slights, but decided to forego them to deal with the bigger threat of the Freys and the Boltons.

The Blackfish was starting to understand what Beric was suggesting. "Instead of the Freys using that cursed song as their signal to kill us all, we use it on them. Once they hear Tom sing, that will be the signal to strike. Greatjon, you and your men will deal with Bolton's bannermen. Half of the Brotherhood will support the Blackfish in dealing with the Freys and their sellswords while the other half will support Lord Stark."

"I like it," Robb said. "I want the men sober and alert. Any Frey that offers you wine, lure them inside the tent and kill them quickly and quietly. Once you hear Tom sing, move out and kill as many of those turncoat bastards as you can silently. Once the song ends, then go at them with everything you got."

The Greatjon nodded.

"Second, I want a raven sent to Stannis Baratheon."

'Stannis Baratheon?" the Greatjon asked. "Why?"

"He is the true heir to the Iron Throne," Robb replied. "If we send out the raven and ask for a parley, then he would arrive around the same time as Edmure's wedding. We can't win this war, but we can ask for terms. He gets the Iron Throne. We get Sansa and Arya back, along with my father being exonerated and the heads of the Lannisters and their allies."

"Fair enough," the Greatjon said. "Better him than the false King which sits on the Iron Throne."

"Gentlemen, this battle will not only decide who lives and who dies," Robb said, "but it also decides the fate of the North. I would be forever damned in the Seven Hells if Roose Bolton becomes Warden of the North. I've been betrayed once by a man who grew up with me, that I once called brother. One who swore to be at my side. Never again. We don't forget those who cross us and we don't forgive those who betray us. Bolton and Frey will soon find out that they fucked with the wrong King."

Both Walder Frey and Roose Bolton involuntarily shuddered whilst in their slumber, as if the cold hands of the Stranger had rested upon them.

The Twins.

The Wedding of Edmure Tully and Roslin Frey had gone off without a hitch. Robb Stark had accepted Walder Frey's punishment, but he knew that it was far from over.

Walder Frey had forgiven him, but Robb knew that his words were false. He looked over to Roose Bolton, who was seated next to his mother, and knew that he was wearing chainmail underneath his clothes. Not one to take chances, Robb and his personal guard were also wearing chainmail underneath their clothes, as well as armed with hidden daggers. Talisa and Catelyn were also armed with daggers, hidden under their skirts.

Days of planning, and now, was the moment of truth. He had planned this moment very carefully, very meticulously. If all else fails, then he would bring the Twins down with him.

Finally, the bedding ceremony came. Edmure and Roslin were stripped of their clothes, and carried off to the wedding bed in Roslin's chambers. The doors to the dining hall were then closed.

From his place at the head of the table, Walder Frey began to speak at the King of the North and his bride as they stood before him. "Forgive me for now showing you the hospitality that you so rightfully deserve. My King has married and I owe my new Queen a wedding gift."

Moments later, the musicians began to play. Robb and Talisa looked up to the musicians - the Brotherhood in disguise - as they began to play The Rains of Castamere.

And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low?

Tom's voice was strong and clear, and it carried not only throughout the dining hall, but also throughout the camps through the open windows. The signal was given. The attack had begun.

Only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth I know.

Brynden Tully was out relieving himself while two of his men silently killed the Frey guards who were guarding Grey Wind, locked inside his cage. Once he was finished, the Blackfish armed himself with one of the fallen Frey's swords and freed the massive direwolf.

"Come, your master is in danger," the Blackfish said. "It's time to kill some traitors."

Grey Wind barked twice and trotted after Brynden.

In a coat of gold or a coat of red, a lion still has claws,

Inside one of the tents, the disguised sellswords posing as servants paused as the haunting voice of Tom Sevenstings, powered by the magic of Thoros, floated throughout the camp. That cost them their lives as they were cut down by the Northern bannermen as they silently swarmed out of the tents, armed to the teeth and ready for a fight.

The Greatjon Umber, sword stained red with Frey blood, silently headed for the feast tents which housed Bolton's forces. Smalljon Umber, in a moment of inspiration, signaled to his men to cut the support lines which held the tents in place, which they did, trapping the Boltons inside. Several pots of oil were then retrieved and splashed onto the tent's canvas, right before the Greatjon and his son threw several lit torches and threw them upon the fallen tents.

The Frey bannermen, led by Walder Rivers, the eldest bastard of Walder Frey, came running into the camp, expecting nothing more than drunk Northerners unable to put up a fight. He was shocked to see that they were not only sober, but had already slaughtered the sellswords and the Bolton bannermen were being burned alive. The Brotherhood, led by Beric Dondarrion, then cut off their escape route, leaving them at the mercy of the Northerners they had tried to kill.

Too bad that Robb had given the order to show no mercy to those who betrayed him.

"Oh, shit," cursed Walder.

The Greatjon's men stepped forward, armed with crossbows and the Brotherhood who had trapped them in were armed with longbows.

A silent signal from the Smalljon was all the marksmen needed. Walder Rivers was among those who had fallen at the first volley of arrows and crossbow bolts.

Once their arrows were exhausted, the Greatjon and his forces charged into the Freys, swords held high. The Brotherhood then charged in from behind.

And the slaughter of the Freys began.

And mine are long and sharp, my lord, as long and sharp as yours.

Back inside the dining hall, Walder Frey sat on his throne, his expression smug as he looked down on Robb, his wife and Catelyn. However, he soon caught the expression of confusion on Stevron's face. As it was his idea to use the song favored by Tywin Lannister to signal the slaughter, he knew that something was wrong. No one but the girls could sing and not one of the men in the House of Frey could carry a tune to save their life.

Stevron looked up at the musicians. Then to his father, his expression now that of alarm. Walder Frey looked up to the musicians and to the men who were silently entering the dining hall through the kitchen's entrance. His expression soon mirrored that of his son's.

Those were not his men playing The Rains of Castamere.

Those were not his men who were moving into the dining hall.

Robb Stark knew of the plot to murder him and his forces.

And Robb Stark was going to kill them all.

And so he spoke, and so he spoke, that lord of Castamere,

To Roose Bolton, anyone who heard the Rains of Castamere would be filled with a sense of dread. But not Cat. And certainly not Robb and his wife. Instead, Robb his wife, and Catelyn looked rather angry. He looked at Stevron Frey, who looked at the musicians, then back at his father. Curious, Roose turned to the musicians, and recognized the man singing as one of the Brotherhood Without Banners.

In fact, the musicians themselves were that of the Brotherhood.

Then he looked at Robb, whose expression said it all. I know what you and Walder Frey have planned. The game is up. Prepare to die.

But now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear.

The naked body of Roslin Frey laid in the wedding bed, blood spilling from the wound in her neck, staining the white sheets of the bed. The Frey guard which had ran into the room also was dead, his breeches gone. Edmure Tully, now wearing the breeches of the slain Frey guard, looked at the dead woman with a hint of sadness. This was not what he was expecting when he agreed to marry Roslin, for her to try and knife him in the wedding bed.

But as expected, she was a Frey, and the Blackfish said, 'Never trust a Frey.'

He had disarmed her and had rammed her own knife into her throat. Then killed the Frey guard who came running in and stole sword.

'Shame,' Edmure thought as he armed himself with the dead Frey's sword. 'She was such a lovely thing.'

Seconds later, Tully bannermen joined up with Edmure, and they raced for the dining hall.

Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall, and not a soul to hear.

Lothar Frey stood up and approached Talisa, steak knife in hand. Robb remembered in his dream that he was going to kill Talisa. A fired crossbow bolt from above, shot by Tom Sevenstrings, felled Lothar, the bolt firmly embedded in his eye. The Brotherhood dropped their instruments and retrieved the crossbows planted up there by Stevron Frey.

The first volley had cut down the sellswords armed with swords, among them Stevron Frey, allowing Robb and his personal guard to arm themselves proper with their swords. One of the Brotherhood tried to kill Roose Bolton, only for him to fall to the floor, Roose's hunting dagger stuck in his throat, and his sword in the turncoat's hands.

More of the Brotherhood came through the kitchen's entrance, outnumbering the Freys inside. One of the Brotherhood unlocked the doors and opened them, revealing the carnage that was taking place outside. Walder Frey's bannermen and the sellswords he had hired were being slaughtered by the Stark bannermen.

"We accepted your bread and salt and yet, you violated the guest right by turning your cloaks and becoming whores to the Lion," Cat said with fury in her voice. "You betrayed the House of Tully for the very last time, Walder. Winter has come for you and your kind." She glared at Roose. "And for you as well, traitor."

Walder knew that he was done for. "Wait! I had no choice!" he shouted.

"I call bullshit," Edmure Tully said as he entered the dining hall, followed by the Blackfish, Grey Wind, and Thoros of Myr. "Bit of bad news, I'm afraid," he said. "Your men are being put to the sword for the crime of treason, which carries an automatic death sentence."

"How did you know?" demanded Roose.

Robb glared at Roose. "Your treachery and that of Lord Frey came to me in a dream. The screams you hear are those of your bannermen. Your men are dead."

The usually calm expression on Roose's face soon turned to fury.

"Had to admit, using The Rains of Castamere was pretty devious, even for a traitorous little shit like you," the Blackfish said. "But we didn't like the looks of the entertainment you hired. So we had them replaced."

"You can keep your gifts, Frey," replied Robb. "But allow me to extend my gratitude to you and your family on my cousin's wedding day."

Three of Robb's personal guards moved in to protect Cat and Talisa from the inevitable battle that is to come. The Brotherhood-Stark forces easily outnumbered the Freys and their sellsword allies. But the House of Frey and the House of Bolton was not going down without a fight.

"Kill them all!" Robb shouted as he charged at Roose Bolton.

Outside in the Stark Camp, the Greatjon Umber and Beric Dondarrion led the Stark bannermen against the Freys. The Freys and the Boltons were very much surprised when the Starks were not only good and sober, but armed to the teeth. Over six thousand Stark bannermen and the Brotherhood against House Frey and House Bolton.

Just as one of the Freys was about to impale the Greatjon with a pike, he himself was impaled from behind. The savior was someone that not even the Greatjon himself was expecting.

A tall man, in black armor, wielding a longsword, half of his face burned, mounted on horseback. With him, was a young girl.

The Hound, Sandor Cleagne.

But what surprised the Greatjon and his son was the little girl accompanying him.

Arya Stark.

"Smalljon! Protect Arya!" the Greatjon bellowed.

Without missing a beat, Sandor hopped off his horse and entered the fray. Three Frey bannermen charged in. All three fell to the ground, slain by the scarred man. The Hound's reputation was just as known as his more infamous elder brother.

Sandor's intention was to ransom Arya back to her brother once he found out that he would be attending a wedding at The Twins. Instead, he found himself riding into a battle against the King of the North and his turncoat allies. Seeing this as a chance to get in the good graces of Arya's elder brother, he rode into the battle.

As the battle raged, one of the Freys targeted Arya with a crossbow.

Only to turn around upon hearing the familiar growl of a direwolf behind him.

The Frey spun around, just as the direwolf pounced, the shot from the crossbow missing and embedding itself into a wooden post. The Frey's screams died out as the direwolf ripped out his throat.

Nymeria has returned to her mistress.

Inside the dining hall, the battle between Robb Stark and Roose Bolton continued in the midst of the chaos surrounding them. Walder Frey had retreated once the battle had went south, being carried off by two of his men.

Reinforcements from the Freys and the remaining Bolton bannermen who managed to survive the sneak attack came rushing into the dining hall to provide aid to the Lord of Dreadfort and the Lord of the Crossing, but were felled by Tom Sevenstrings and his volley of crossbow bolts. Grey Wind joined in defending his master against the Freys, ripping out throats and mauling limbs.

When the bolts were exhausted, they switched over to longbows, as they could fire arrows off even faster. Roose had the experience in both swordplay and tactics, but as his father was the late Eddard Stark, Robb was holding his own. Add the fact that his uncle and cousin were the Blackfish and Edmure Tully, Robb was matching the Lord of Leeches blow-for-blow.

When Robb made the mistake of marrying Talisa, Roose knew that it was only a matter of time before he would become Lord of Winterfell. When Tywin contacted him, it was an opportunity that he could not pass up.

The two men locked blades. "You're doing well, boy," complimented Roose. "And here, I thought you'd be dead by now." He broke off. "But not good enough. Winterfell will soon be mine."

"Over my dead body!" snarled Robb.

"That can be arranged," Roose replied.

The battle between the Lord of the Dreadfort and the King of the North had taken place all over the dining hall, Roose throwing Frey bannermen at the young warrior, and Robb cutting them down without missing a beat. The battle between the two men slowly degenerated into a brawl, with Roose attempting to rally back from Robb's vicious barrage.

Robb saw an opportunity when Roose tried to slug him with his free hand. Using a technique which Beric had taught him, he grabbed Roose fist, and twisted him over in an arm-lock, and raised his sword, ready to cleave into Roose's neck and end the threat once and for all.

Robb screamed as he felt the crossbow bolt impale itself into his shoulder, fired by a Frey marksman, causing him to release both his sword and Roose Bolton, who quickly took advantage. He kicked the Lord of Winterfell to the floor. The men who were guarding Cat and Talisa were defending their King's mother and wife from a pair of Frey sellswords.

"You fought well, boy," complimented Roose. "But it's over for you." He readied his sword to deliver the death blow. "The Lannisters send their regards."

"NO!" Cat screamed.

Time seem to stop. Instead of running Robb Stark through with his sword, Roose had ran Cat through instead when she had stepped in between the two fighting men.

Even Roose was shocked, as he did not expect Catelyn Stark, of all people, to sacrifice herself for her son. Roose pulled the sword out of Cat, who stumbled back several steps, before falling to the floor.

Robb watched his mother fall, having taken the blow for him. He watched her fall. Then his eyes fell upon Roose, his sword stained with his mother's blood. Robb saw red as he retrieved his sword and once again charged at the older man, his fury unleashed, ignoring the pain in his shoulder from the crossbow bolt. The Head of House Bolton was forced back from the onslaught. Roose tripped over an overturned chair, causing him to fall on his rear, giving Robb the advantage.

One vicious overhead strike had knocked Roose's sword from his hand. That was followed by Robb running Roose through his shoulder, disabling his shoulder.

"Wait!" Roose shouted, holding his good hand up in an attempt to stave off his impending death. "Mercy! I yield!"

Robb's response to that was to lop off his other hand. Roose screamed.

"You betray me, conspired with the Freys and became the Lion's whore. You stabbed my mother, and have the gall to ask for mercy?!" Robb snarled, the battle fever evident in his eyes as he raised his sword again, this time poised to take Roose's own head.

"My father sends his regards," Robb said as he brought his blade down.

"NO-" Roose Bolton's head was liberated from his body.

Robb then dropped the sword and rushed back to his mother. Without saying a word, he picked her up bridal-style and carried her out of the dining hall, leaving his personal guard and the Brotherhood to mop up any remaining Freys.

Robb had carried his mother over to one of the tents which served as a triage for the wounded. Talisa ran in after him, followed by Sandor Cleagne and Arya. There was no maester, as he was one of the casualties in the battle, so it was up to Talisa to see how bad the damage from Roose's sword really was.

Catelyn was coughing up blood as Talisa's training as a healer took over. It was just as she had feared. Roose's sword had punctured a lung, the wound mortal.

Talisa turned her head to Robb, tears running down her face as she shook her head. "There's nothing I can do, Robb. I'm sorry."

Robb crouched down and took Cat's hand. "Mother..."

"It's okay," Cat whispered. "You can't die. Not yet. It's not yet your time."

Arya moved over to the other side and grasped her mother's hand. "Mother..."

Cat smiled weakly, despite the pain. "My little wild child. The gods are good. I finally got to see you one last time. It's okay, Arya. At least now, I get to see your father again."

The dying woman turned to Talisa. "Take care of my son, Talisa. You are now Lady of Winterfell. I wish I had gotten to know you a lot better under different circumstances."

"As do I, Mother," Talisa replied.

Cat gritted her teeth as the pain became unbearable. Talisa left her side and moments later, came back with a small vial filled with a milky white fluid.

"Milk of the poppy," Talisa said. "The only thing I can do is to ease her pain."

Robb nodded. "Please...I can't watch her suffer any longer."

Talisa uncorked the bottle and raised it to Cat's lips. Without hesitation, Cat downed the entire vial. Her last words were a whisper. "Thank you."

And with that, Catelyn Tully Stark, died.

Robb stumbled out of the tent, tears running down his face. The Skirmish at the Twins was over, the bannermen under Roose Bolton and Walder Frey had been routed and slaughtered to the last man. The Northern army had won, but had sustained casualties in the battle.

Edmure Tully, Brynden Tully and the Greatjon approached him. The look on his face was all for the Greatjon, Edmure and Brynden needed to know. Grey Wind and Nymeria both whined, then let out a howl.

"Milord!" one of the bannermen approached the grieving King of the North. "We have captured the remaining members of House Frey. What would you want to do with them?"

"Is Walder Frey with them?" Robb asked, his voice emotionless.

"Yes, Milord."

Robb's voice was ice-cold. "Bring him here. Now."

The bannerman rushed off to obey. Within minutes, he and a second bannerman returned, dragging the Lord of the Crossing, as his gout was so bad that he could not walk unassisted. The bannermen unceremoniously dumped him in front of the King of the North. Surrounded by the North's forces, Walder knew that he was finished.

"Look at you," the Blackfish taunted. "Not so cocky now that your bannermen has been put to the sword, aren't you? You wouldn't have the balls to pull such a feat if you didn't have Tywin Lannister backing you up."

In great pain, Walder managed to get to his knees. "Milord, please...spare me!" Lord Frey begged. "I promise you on my honor that my house will forever serve you and House Tully. Mercy, good King! For my family!"

That made the Greatjon and the other men laugh, to see Walder Frey, who was looking so smug moments earlier, thinking that he had lured Robb and his forces to their doom, begging for his life.

"Honor?" Robb repeated, his voice tinged with fury, kicking the man to the ground. "You have shit for honor! Roose Bolton and Tywin Lannister have shit for honor! My mother is dead because of what you three had planned! Your house is now cursed for breaking the guest right!"

"Yes, I conspired with Bolton and the Lannisters! That I confess! For that, I am sorry! Mercy, Lord Robb!"

"Oh yes, I know," replied Robb. "I know that you are sorry." He then reached over and took Edmure's sword. "But let us pretend that you are not! Hold him down!"

"NO!" Walder half-screamed, half-sobbed as two of the bannermen held him down.

Robb placed the blade against Walder's neck. "You are going to get a first-hand experience in Northern justice. The man who passes sentence is the one who also wields the sword. I, Robb of House Stark, do sentence you to death for the crime of treason and murder," Robb declared. "The words of your house is 'We Take Our Tolls.' You will pay in blood."

Mustering his remaining strength, Robb raised his sword and with a cry of anger mixed with sadness, took Walder Frey's head.

Before heading back to the tent with Walder's severed head, he gave the Greatjon and the Blackfish one final order. "We don't forget, nor do we forgive. Winter has come for House Frey. Kill them all. They were in on this. They did not warn us. They betrayed and tried to kill us. Kill them all."

In a mocking tone, he recited the final lines of The Rains of Castamere as he walked back to the tent. "'Yes, now the rains weep o'er his hall, with not a soul to hear.'"

The battle at the Twins would be known by several names. To the North, it was known as the Skirmish at the Twins and the Wolf's Vengeance. But it was known to the people of the South as the Red Wedding.

Catelyn Stark's body was cremated along with those who had died defending Robb Stark.

Robb stood by his wife and sister, his expression blank, but his eyes showed nothing but anger as the funeral pyre erupted in flames. With the death of his mother, Talisa Stark was now the Lady of Winterfell.

Robb had not slept for the remainder of the night following the Red Wedding. Talisa had to give him a sedative in order for him to sleep.

As Robb rested and recovered, ravens were sent to the other main houses save for the Lannisters and their allies detailing the events of the Red Wedding, of how the Freys and Roose Bolton had turned their cloak and threw in their lot with the Lannisters. Of how Walder Frey had violated the ancient tradition of the guest right, and conspired with Roose Bolton to destroy Robb Stark and his forces, the murder of Catelyn Stark at the hands of Roose Bolton and the destruction of House Frey and the turncloak bannermen of Roose Bolton in retaliation. He even revealed the circumstances following his father's downfall and execution, exposing Cersei and Jamie's secret in regards to the current King and his siblings.

The Brotherhood disguised as Frey and Bolton soldiers were sent to Harrenhal, where the Lannister forces were mustered and a raven was sent to King's Landing with a false report telling of Robb Stark's demise along with his mother and his forces. Those were designed to lure the Lannisters into a false sense of security. As the Lannister forces made merry, the Brotherhood, led by Beric Dondarrion and Sandor Cleagne, would strike. In the meantime, he would parley with Stannis Baratheon.

Robb recognized Sandor Cleagne for his actions during the Red Wedding and for bringing back Arya. The Hound also was a valuable source of information, as he told them of Sansa's treatment at the hands of both Joffrey and Cersei, as well as the defenses surrounding the Red Keep. Thankful for the information, Robb pardoned the younger Cleagne and made him a captain of his army...with the added promise of Sandor being the one to take his elder brother's head. Which is why he rode off to Harrenhal with the Brotherhood.

Robb also recognized Tom Sevenstrings for his efforts, as it was his voice which had initiated the counter-attack which saved many lives. Should he wished, Tom would find a place for him in the North.

On the fifth day following the Red Wedding, Stannis Baratheon arrived at the Twins.

The Twins, five days following the Red Wedding.

Stannis Baratheon was very surprised to see that Ned Stark's eldest son had asked for a meeting. Following the disastrous battle of Blackwater Bay in which the Lannisters had destroyed his fleet with wildfire, he had been stewing in Dragonstone, planning his next move. He had his own problems with the Lannisters, as the boy which sat on the Iron Throne was not his brother's trueborn son.

Originally, he had seen the son of Ned Stark as a usurper, as he called himself the King of the North. Then came the message by raven from the Northern usurper. It was brief and to the point.

Lord Baratheon. If you want the Iron Throne, come to the Twins. There, we will discuss terms. Lord Robb Stark of House Stark.

Stannis could not help but to feel the least bit curious as to why Robb Stark wanted a parley with him. So he traveled to the Twins from Storm's End, having landed there after sailing from Dragonstone, accompanied by the Onion Knight, Davos Seaworth and one thousand troops. On his orders, did the red woman known as Melissandre remained behind in Dragonstone.

Stannis' patience with the priestess of R'hllor was wearing very thin. In the days following the Red Wedding, Melisaandre was very much surprised to see that Robb Stark was still alive in her flames, despite Stannis naming him as one of three usurpers to his throne, the others being Cersei's bastard of a son and the Kraken King. It was revealed to her that Catelyn Stark had died in Robb's place, much to the annoyance of Stannis. It was Davos who made his lord see reason, that maybe it was not Robb's time to die, and that Robb had no more love for the Lannisters, since they were the ones who took his father's head.

It took them three days to reach the Twins. En route, they ran into the Brave Companions, a sellsword company in the employ of Tywin Lannister. The sellswords were slain to the last man, and Stannis earned himself a valuable hostage: Jamie Lannister. His charge, Brienne of Tarth, was released and rode back with Stannis to the Twins.

Upon arriving at the Twins, Stannis and his advisers found himself entering a virtual war zone. Bolton and Frey banners were being burned and the heads of the Frey's bannermen were all on pikes. Several bonfires were burning as the Northerners were busy burning the dead. A squire had both him and Davos dismount from their horses, and allowed an honor guard to enter the Twins, now under Tully control. The bannermen were to remain out of the camp.

Talisa Stark had just emerged from the triage tent in which she had tended to the wounded following the Red Wedding. Despite being the Lady of Winterfell, she was still a healer, and could still make herself useful before her pregnancy would limit her mobility. The Smalljon Umber was assigned to be her personal guard as she made her rounds.

As she was on her way back to the command pavilion, her face and clothes smudged with dirt and blood, one of the Greatjon's men who had escorted Stannis, his advisers and his personal guard in stopped her. "Milady. Lord Stannis Baratheon of House Baratheon."

Talisa must have been quite a sight, her dress covered in blood and mud. The Volanti healer and Lady of Winterfell, despite all of this, curtsied. "Lord Baratheon. Welcome."

Stannis responded with a nod of the head. "You have the posture of a noblewoman, yet you are not from here."

"How perceptive of you," replied the Volanti noblewoman. "Originally, I am from Essos. Volantis, to be precise. My name is Talisa Stark, wife to Lord Robb Stark and Lady of Winterfell."

"Volantis?" Davos parroted. "You are a long way from home."

Talisa smiled. "My husband said the same thing when we first met."

"I thought that Catelyn Stark was Lady of Winterfell," pointed out Stannis.

"She was. She died when the Freys and the Boltons betrayed us." Talisa looked at herself, covered in mud and blood. "Forgive my appearance. I maybe the Lady of Winterfell, but I am first and foremost a healer. My husband and the others are expecting you. Please follow me."

Inside the command tent, Robb Stark – arm in a sling – was overlooking a map of King's Landing with Edmure Tully, the Blackfish and the Greatjon Umber when Talisa entered the tent. "They are here."

Within seconds, the Tullys and the Greatjon flanked Robb while Talisa washed her hands in a nearby basin as Stannis and his chief adviser entered the command tent.

"Lord Baratheon," greeted Robb in a cool voice.

"Lord Stark," replied Stannis in the same tone.

"Forgive me for not addressing you by your proper title," Robb said. "Here, under this tent, we are considered of equal standing in the eyes of the gods: the old, the new and your Lord of Light. Here, you are Lord of Dragonstone and I am Lord of Winterfell."

"That is fair enough," Stannis said.

"Please, sit," Robb said. "We have much to discuss."

Once everyone was settled in, Stannis offered his condolences. "Your lady wife has told me what has happened to your mother. She was the epitome of what the House of Tully stood for. You have my sympathies."

"Thank you," Robb said as Talisa took the seat next to him.

"Your father and I may have not have gotten along, but he was a good and decent man. He did not deserve to die the way that he did. A man like Eddard Stark was no traitor."

"Care to explain as to what in the Seven Hells happened here?" Davos asked. "We got snippets from your wife, but we would like to know the whole story."

"I was betrayed by Walder Frey and Roose Bolton," explained Robb. "They both turned their cloaks and joined the Lion. Walder Frey violated the guest right and tried to murder both myself and my wife, not to mention destroying out my bannermen. My mother...died, taking a blow that was meant for me, killed by Roose Bolton." He produced several messages which were discovered in both Roose Bolton and Walder Frey's belongings and passed them to Davos.

"It's Tywin's handwriting, all right," confirmed Davos. "And the Freys?"

"Dead to the last man. Their women and children as well. They knew of the plot, and did not warn any of us, which makes them just as guilty as their Lord."

Stannis scanned it for a moment. Then he placed it down on the table. "You've asked for this parley, Lord Robb. You have the floor."

"I want to offer terms," Robb began.

"Go on."

"My father sent a message to me by raven before he was arrested," Robb said. "The message in question was in regards to Robert's heirs. They are not trueborn of your brother."

"I know. They are Cersei's bastards, the Kingslayer being their father."

"As your elder brother had no trueborn heirs, the Iron Throne is yours by default. I can no longer fight a war in which I now know that I will lose. The North will recognize you as King. You can have that cursed throne for all I care. My father died over it. I and my loved ones were almost murdered over it. It's yours. I will call myself King of the North no longer. But the North's fealty comes with a price."

Stannis cocked an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"I want my sister back. Second, I want the heads of those responsible for dishonoring my father and putting him to the sword. Littlefinger, Tywin, Jamie, Cersei and Joffrey. I have no quarrel with the Imp, as he showed kindness to my brother. Give me their heads and clear my father's name. Once my vengeance is done, I will retire back to Winterfell and assume my father's duties as Warden of the North. I've no quarrel with you, Lord Stannis, as my father and your brother were longtime friends. My problem is with the Lannisters."

Stannis studied the young man's face for a minute, trying to see any deceit in him. There was none.

"That much is true," conceded Stannis. "I too have issues with the Lion, as it was on Cersei's orders that she created the wildfire which destroyed my fleet. Your conditions are reasonable, Lord Stark, and I accept them." Turning to his personal guard, he said. "Bring him in."

The personal guard of Stannis Baratheon nodded and exited the tent. Minutes later, they returned with their prisoner. He was malnourished, filthy, and missing his sword hand, and had grown a beard the last time Robb and the others had seen him, but there was no mistake in his identity.

The Kingslayer himself, Jamie Lannister.

"We came across him, on our way here," Davos explained. "He was held by the Bloody Mummers."

"What of Brienne of Tarth?" Edmure asked.

"She is resting in one of the tents inside your camp," Stannis replied. "Do with him what you will."

Robb stood up, just as Jamie was forced to his knees. Walking around the table, he faced the man that he had captured in his first battle. "Jamie Lannister...the Kingslayer. This is the second time that you've been brought before me in chains."

Despite everything, Jamie was still defiant. "Roob Stark. Still the green boy despite everything."

"I know that you and your sister has been fucking, and that you, not Robert, are the father of her children, so there is no need to deny it. My mother told me that you pushed Bran off from the tower back in Winterfell," said Robb. "Is that true?"

"Yeah," Jamie grunted, seeing no reason to lie. He knew that he was going to die. He just hoped that his death was a quick and clean one. "It's true. He caught me and Cersei. I was hoping that the fall would kill him."

That was all that Robb needed to know. Turning to the Greatjon and the Blackfish he calmly said, "Take him to the top of the Twins and throw him off. If he survives, pick him up, carry him back to the top and throw him off again."

Already weakened with the loss of his hand, Jamie offered feeble resistance as he was hauled off to the Twins. Moments later, Beric Dondarrion and Sandor Cleagne entered the command tent, the Hound carrying a bloodied satchel.

"Lord Stark. Lady Stark," Beric greeted. He then addressed Stannis. "Lord Baratheon."

Stannis nodded in response.

Sandor reached inside the satchel and pulled out two heads. The first being his elder brother, Gregor Cleagne. The second was that of Kevan Lannister.

"And the Lannister forces?" Robb asked.

"Dead to the last man," Beric replied. "Lost about a hundred men in wiping out the Lannister forces. Ironic don't you think? Fortified wine tends to make you sluggish and leaves you exposed for slaughter. It was what old Walder Frey had planned for your men, was it not?"

Before Robb could reply to that, Jamie's screams were head throughout the camp, until they stopped abruptly, signaling the demise of Jamie Lannister. The Greatjon and the Blackfish returned minutes later, with Jamie's severed head.

"One down," Robb said, returning to his chair, "several more to go."

"Do you have a plan as to how to enter King's Landing and the Red Keep?" asked Davos.

"We stripped the bodies of Lannister armor," Sandor said.

"We go in disguised as Lannister bannermen," added Beric. "No one would suspect the Brotherhood or the Northern horde to be Lannisters in disguise."

"We move in at night, and slaughter the House Guards and City Watch assigned to the Red Keep," continued Robb. "Half will walk in through the front door, while the other half will use the secret passages to gain entry. My sister Arya told me about these passages, that she used them to escape the Lannisters when they arrested my father."

"And when Tywin Lannister and his ilk wake up the following morning, the Red Keep will be under our control, and by the time they realize something is wrong, it will already be too late," concluded Davos. He grinned. "Most impressive, Lord Stark."

Robb glanced over to the Blackfish. "I had a good teacher, after all." He turned to Talisa. "I want you and Arya to wait for us in Riverrun. Smalljon will accompany you there. Wait until I return from King's Landing."

Talisa nodded. "Come back to me. You make me a widow, and I will drag you back from the Seven Hells just so I can kill you again."

Robb smiled, the first since his mother's death. "As milady commands."

Stannis watched the exchange between the pair. Even he had to admit that Talisa was good for Robb, after losing both parents to the treachery of the Lion. Melissandre would complain about him joining forces with the young wolf, but in the end, he would get what he wanted – the Iron Throne.