Author's Note: Hey guys, I'm just making a couple of corrections that I somehow missed while getting this chapter ready. Nothing being rewritten so don't worry.

Chapter 2 will be up soon.

A DIFFERENT COURSE OF ACTION

A Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire AU Fan-Fiction

Summery

Nearly sixteen years have passed since the end of Robert's Rebellion, the war that saw House Targaryen removed from the Iron Throne and Robert Baratheon become the new King. He has ruled with the help of Lord Jon Arryn, who served as his Hand for fifteen years. Several months ago he died under suspicious circumstances, leaving his six year old son Robert Arryn as the Lord of the Vale. King Robert travelled to Winterfell to seek his old childhood friend, Lord Eddard Stark, and ask him to become his new Hand, and to seek a betrothal between his son Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon and Eddard's eldest daughter Sansa Stark. Many days after arriving at Winterfell Eddard's middle son Bran had fallen from a tower where he landed on a cart, injuring his head and slipping into a coma as well as breaking one of his legs. Days after the accident Eddard left Winterfell with both of his daughters to become the Hand of the King, leaving his eldest trueborn son Robb in charge as acting Lord of Winterfell. His natural-born son Jon Snow travelled to the Wall to join the Night's Watch, while his wife Lady Catelyn sat by her middle son's bedside as he lay unconscious.

The journey south to King's Landing saw some troubles for Eddard and his daughters, including an incident that saw his girls Sansa and Arya come to quietly resent each other after Sansa's direwolf Lady was killed by Eddard after Prince Joffrey was wounded by Arya's direwolf Nymeria, who was sent away by Arya to protect her knowing that she would be killed. King Robert's wife, Queen Cersei Lannister, had pushed for the direwolf to be killed, and Eddard did the deed to spare Lady from unnecessary suffering. Finally Eddard arrived at the capitol to take his position as Hand, and not long after his first council session he had met with Lord Petyr Baelish and, to his surprise, his wife Catelyn who had travelled ahead of him. During his journey south an attempt was made on Bran's life by an assassin, and the dagger used was said to belong to Tyrion Lannister, the Queen's younger brother. Already suspicious of the Lannisters loyalty to the Iron Throne Eddard sends Catelyn back to Winterfell while carrying out his own investigation. Catelyn and her guard Ser Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms of Winterfell, travelled as far as the Inn at the Crossroads before they encountered Tyrion Lannister, whom Catelyn had arrested with the help of some knights of the Riverlands, her father Lord Hoster Tully's bannermen.

Tyrion's arrest started a chain of events that would lead to the young acting Lord of Winterfell to march south to war. Robb had called some of his father's bannermen to Winterfell to raise an army in preparation of the Lannisters expected assault on his grandfather's lands, which he began to do after news of his father's wounding in the streets of King's Landing had reached the North. After word of King Robert's death and the arrest of Eddard had spread, Robb summoned many more Northern Lords to assemble at Moat Cailin, the ancient fortress that sits just north of the Neck, the North's southern region. Once there the fifteen year old lordling had amassed a host twenty-thousand strong, and soon after he began to march south into the Riverlands.

By the time that Robb Stark had entered the Riverlands, Tywin Lannister had ravaged much of the Tullys surrounding lands. The Lord of Casterly Rock had led a host of thirty-five-thousand men to attack the region belonging to Catelyn's father, in retaliation of her taking Tyrion prisoner. Lord Tywin led twenty-thousand men while giving fifteen-thousand to his eldest son Ser Jamie Lannister, a knight of the Kingsguard. He sent Ser Jamie to take Riverrun, House Tully's ancestral seat, while he led his own host to Harrenhal. It was while he was there that he had heard of Robb Stark marching south past the Twins, leaving a force to keep the Freys in check. He was noted to have split his host into many smaller hosts, a move which confounded Tywin. The Old Lion of Casterly Rock put it down to the actions of an inexperienced boy, and decided to march on Robb, leading his entire host to the eastern side of the Green Fork of the Trident, where the Northern hosts were located. Eight days after beginning his march, Tywin had met up with Tyrion and his new companions; about three-hundred Clansmen of the Vale. With those additional warriors Tywin continued to plan to capture Robb Stark, who his scouts had reported was leading a thousand men not far from their current position just on the eastern banks of the Green Fork. This host was supposedly too far from any other host. Believing Robb Stark to have gotten overeager for battle, Tywin leads an attack on the small host, letting the Mountain that Rides, Ser Gregor Clegane, lead the vanguard, which Tyrion was part of with his Clansmen.

Unknown to all of them, Ser Brynden Tully, the Blackfish as he is often called, has been harrying Tywin's outriders, and has been leading other groups of men to encircle the larger Lannister host. Tywin is unaware of this, and so he blindly walks into a trap…

Chapter 1

A Different Course

Tyrion

The boy was now dead, all for nothing. Tyrion could not help but shake his head at the situation. Young Robb Stark had led twenty-thousand Northmen, all eager for revenge after Lord Eddard's arrest by King Joffrey. That was something that Tyrion still could not believe; King Joffrey. The boy on the Iron Throne had started a war with the North, and now Eddard Stark's eldest son and heir was dead. He now only had a seven-year-old son with a broken leg that might never heal properly as an heir with a three-year-old boy as the next in line. Utter madness, he thought. What have you done Joffrey? He still found it hard to understand why Robb Stark marched with a thousand men and why he marched too far ahead of his other hosts. It was complete stupidity. "The boy is eager for glory," Tyrion's father Lord Tywin had said during a meeting with the other lords and knights. "He may like the sound of drums and the flutter of banners in the wind, but he will run as soon as battle is joined." His father was wrong on one count; Robb did not flee when the Mountain led the vanguard charging down the hill towards him.

Tyrion had been enjoying the previous night with Shea, the whore that Bronn had found for him, when he was awoken by his young squire Podrik Payne to be ready for battle. Podrik had helped him into his armour and with some help from Bronn, Tyrion was sat in his saddle, and he soon found himself riding with his Clansmen to battle. It was barely dawn when the vanguard which Tyrion was with had attacked Robb's position. The thousand men under Clegane's command had slaughtered Robb's own thousand men, with the Northmen killing many Westermen, probably three or four for each of their own; the vanguard was reinforced by the reserve, and the battle quickly became a complete massacre which lasted only for an hour, but it was a quick hour. Ten minutes before the fight had ended the Mountain had thrust his sword into Robb's torso, killing him outright, and the remaining Northmen soon shared their young leader's fate. Tyrion shook his head as he rode amongst the dead. Nearly two-hundred of his Clansmen had been killed, but many still stood. Shagga and Timmet were both quite happy with their bloody work while Chella took some ears from dead Northmen. While they did as they pleased Tyrion rode with Bronn close by, and he noticed that his squire had caught up with them.

Tyrion rode to the middle of the field where the Mountain was standing, his greatsword still wet with blood. He noticed that his father was riding up with his uncle Ser Kevan, as well as one of his young cousins, Martyn. Martyn and his elder twin brother Willem were both squires, and they were Kevan's sons. Martyn was given the honour of being Tywin's squire. The sun was now shining high in the sky, with the field of the battle now being more visible to everyone. The sight of the carnage made Tyrion feel sick, and young Podrik seemed to agree with him judging by how pale he had gone.

"Ser Gregor," Tywin called out as both he and Tyrion stopped. "I thought I gave specific instructions to take the boy alive." It was typical of Lord Tywin to state a question rather than ask one. Tyrion looked at the massive brute that was his father's loyal mad dog.

"The boy refused to surrender my lord," he answered. "He drew his steel and did not back down."

"And so now Lord Eddard has lost his heir," Tyrion said. "I do hope Lady Catelyn is feeling proud of herself for capturing me in the first place." Tywin fixed him with a glare that would make lesser men cower.

"Now is not the time for such remarks Tyrion," he said before resuming his conversation with the Mountain. As they spoke Tyrion looked around the field. They were surrounded on all sides by high hills, with the field they were in quite low as if they were at the bottom of a bowl. Tyrion could not help but think of how easy it would be to annihilate his father's host if they were all positioned here. As it was Lord Tywin had sent five-thousand men to ride north to harry any Northmen they encountered, leaving fifteen-thousand men here.

"Such a shame about the lad, eh Tyrion," Bronn spoke as he dismounted his horse. "Still, the King has his sisters and father to keep the rest under control."

"Thankfully," Tyrion replied quietly as he looked down at Robb Stark's corpse. The boy was armoured in full iron plate, with ringmail beneath that layer of armour. He had a ruined shield with a direwolf head not far from his body and a broken longsword next to his hand. His head was in a helm with a full face visor covering his face. As he looked at the boy's body a thought began to nag at him. "Wait, where is the wolf?" he asked.

"What wolf?" Bronn asked him back. Tyrion looked at him before looking back at his father who was looking at him questioningly.

"Where is the boy's direwolf?" he asked again. Tywin raised an eyebrow before responding.

"Despite the earlier reports from our scouts, it seems that there was no wolf here," he answered. Tyrion thought that suspicious, but he could not understand why. As he was thinking about it he looked back down at the body. He was about to turn his horse around when something poking out from under Robb's helmet caught his attention.

"What the hells?" he muttered to himself before beginning to climb down from his saddle. Bronn and Podrik both came to help him down, and once on his feet he rushed to the body. "Podrik, help me with the helm," he commanded.

"Tyrion," his father's voice came warningly. Tyrion ignored him and removed the helm with Podrik's help. After a few moments the helm came free and when Tyrion looked down at the face he gasped. The last time he saw Robb Stark was when he was last at Winterfell some months ago. The boy was young and clean shaven with his auburn hair only just reaching his shoulders. This man had a trimmed beard and shaggy looking hair that was dark brown, not auburn. Also his eyes were brown, whereas Robb's were blue. Robb was born with his mother's Tully features, and this man was neither a Tully nor a Stark.

"It's not him," Tyrion said. He looked up at his father, whose eyes were wide. "This is not Robb Stark!" he said once more, his voice loud.

"Deception," Ser Harys Swyft, Uncle Kevan's good-father, said. Tyrion rolled his eyes in annoyance. A blind fool could've figured that one out, he thought.

"Send word to Ser Addam Marbrand, and command him to regroup with us immediately," Tywin ordered one of the knights present. The knight bowed and voiced his acknowledgement before riding off. "How could I have been so blind? We must leave, now."

"Tywin?" Kevan asked uncertainly. Tywin looked up at him, his eyes slightly wider than Tyrion could ever remember seeing them.

"We have walked into a trap," was all he said.

Almost as soon as the words had left Tywin's mouth the said trap was sprung. Tyrion was looking up to his father thinking on his words when three arrows hit his horse, one of them punching through Tywin's right calf. The Old Lion cried out in pain as his horse fell to the side with barely a sound as the other two arrows had struck it in the right side of the neck and head. The horse fell on top of Tywin's left leg, crushing and judging by the sounds that Tyrion heard breaking the leg, forcing another cry of pain to leave Tywin's mouth. Tyrion stared at his wounded father, dumbfounded by what he had just seen, before hearing a roar of pain and anger coming from the Mountain as he was hit by several crossbow bolts. The Mountain dropped to his knees, snarling like a beast, and Tyrion looked all around them as he saw men emerge from the hills above.

"Oh fuck me," he said as the battle cries went up.

"For Karhold!"

"For White Harbour!"

"For Bear Island!"

"For Last Hearth!"

"For Cerwyn!"

"For Hornwood!"

"For the Dreadfort!"

"For Deepwood Motte!"

"For Torrhen's Square!" Many more battle cries went up all around them, until they were all silenced by the howl of a wolf. Not a wolf, but a direwolf, Tyrion thought just before the next battle cry was sounded.

"FOR WINTERFELL!" came a single voice, loud and full of courage. And soon the true battle began.

The Northmen charged from their vantage points atop the hills as a volley of arrows rained down on the Westermen. Tyrion ran to grab the nearest shield and lift it up to protect him, just as several arrows landed around him. He heard Bronn cry out and turned to see an arrow had hit him in the right shoulder. Several men were brought down by the arrows, and the Mountain caught one arrow that had somehow hit him in a weak point in his armour. When the arrows had all fallen Tyrion dropped the heavy iron shield he had used and looked around him. He could not see much given his small stature, but he could hear the screams of men as they fought and died. Every now and then he was able to see people he knew fighting the Northmen, including his Clansmen. He watched as a fight between Chella and a young warrior woman with a bear sigil stamped on her armour ended with the warrior woman smashing her spiked mace into Chella's skull, pulverising the left side of her head. Off to the right Timmet was surrounded by dozens of Northmen, killing four or five before a spear violently exploded from his chest, followed by more being thrust into him. Tyrion turned to look at what was happening behind him, and he saw Shagga hacking away at men with his two battle axes before the biggest Northman he had ever seen walked forward with a massive and ugly greatsword in his hands. Tyrion saw the sigil stamped on the man's breastplate; a roaring giant with broken chains. The man's height and sigil meant that this was the infamous Greatjon Umber, and Tyrion felt his heart sink as the two warriors engaged in battle, already knowing the outcome, for the Umbers of Last Hearth are known for their ferocity in battle against the wildlings from beyond the Wall, and the Clansmen are no different from wildlings. After fighting for a few minutes the Greatjon got the upper hand and sliced Shagga in two from groin to scalp.

After watching the Clansmen chiefs fall Tyrion began to look for his horse, where he knew his axe would be secured. As he moved he felt the air part by his ear as an arrow flew past. Tyrion looked around nervously before he saw young Podrik cowering by a fallen horse that was feathered with many arrows. With a shake of his head Tyrion realised that it was his horse. Another horse of mine killed by bloody Stark men, he thought bitterly. Well, men loyal to Lady Stark's family anyway. He ran to his horse and climbed over the dead beast's body to grab the haft of his axe. He got it in hand and then turned to look at the battle around him. He only took three steps forward before he felt his axe flying out of his hand, followed quickly by pain on the side of his right thumb. He looked down and saw that the leather of his gauntlet had been torn open and his blood oozed out. He looked to his right and saw his axe on the ground a couple of yards or so away from him with an arrow embedded in the haft. Tyrion sank to his knees and chuckled darkly at the Northmen and their luck.

A shout made Tyrion regain his senses, and he looked up and saw his uncle fighting with an older man with the image of battle axes on his cloak. Kevan got the upper hand and smashed the pommel of his sword into the older Northman's face, knocking him off of his horse. Soon after that though another Northman, this one young and with a bull moose's head stamped upon his boiled leather armour, came riding up with his sword drawn. Tyrion watched as Kevan fought the young Northman, the two of them hacking at each other and blocking each other's strikes. The fight lasted for only a couple of minutes before Kevan thrust his sword into the young man's neck, spraying blood from his throat.

"DARYN!" a man roared as the man slumped off of his horse. "THAT WAS MY SON YOU WESTERLAND SHIT!" the man yelled as he rode up to Kevan, engaging him in a dance of death. Like the younger man this man had a bull moose's head stamped on his armour, which was iron instead of boiled leather. This man landed more blows on Kevan, one of them slicing into his leg. Tyrion heard his uncle hiss in pain before he struck out once more, his blow severing the Northman's head just in time to begin fighting another Northman. Looking away from the fight that his uncle was having Tyrion saw that his father was still trapped under his horse, with Martyn by his side. Just past them he saw the Mountain struggling to fight many Northmen. He killed quite a few of them, but he was slowed down by the crossbow bolts that had been embedded in his armour, as well as the many blows from the Northmen. Finally a Northman with the Manderly's merman sigil on his steel armour rode up with a lance levelled and thrust it into Ser Gregor's flank, the tip bursting out under his sword arm. The Manderly rode off as the Mountain that Rides fell, never to rise again.

As the Northmen cheered at the death of the Mountain, the sound of dozens of horses riding close by drew Tyrion's attention. He looked off to his side and saw many Northmen approach. At the head was a young man sat on a barded warhorse, wearing a steel breast plate and boiled leather gauntlets with ringmail beneath. In his right hand was a steel longsword while in his left was a round iron shield with a direwolf head upon it. He wore a helm with no visor, and Tyrion could see his face. He had a neatly trimmed beard that was auburn in colour, and his eyes, which looked quite stern, were Tully blue. Beside his horse was a grey furred direwolf, who had blood covering his maw. This was Robb Stark, and he looked the very image of a Northern lord. Tyrion watched as Robb approached Kevan, raising his sword to him. Kevan urged his horse forward, and soon both of them were engaged in battle. Tyrion noticed that Robb's blade was coated in blood, as were parts of his armour. He watched as his uncle fought the young Stark, slashing, parrying, hacking, blocking, thrusting and swiping at each other. Kevan had the experience in battle, but Robb had youth on his side as well as strength. Kevan landed a blow that drew blood from Robb's shield-arm, but the Heir to Winterfell fought on regardless. The fight continued, with all men nearby who were fighting now watching their fight instead. Robb urged his horse closer to Kevan, smashing his shield at him. Kevan nearly fell from his horse and fought to stay on. That was all that Robb needed, Tyrion soon realised, as the Young Wolf slashed his sword down onto Kevan's wrist, severing his sword hand. Kevan yelled out in pain for only a few moments before Robb drew his sword over his left shoulder and slashed it towards Kevan's neck.

Tyrion watched with bile crawling up his throat as his uncle's head flew off, blood trailing from the stump. The head landed with a dull thud as his lifeless body swayed, before dropping to the ground. A loud cheer went up among the Northmen, while the men of the Westerlands broke. Tyrion looked around him as many began to flee, only to be brought down by the men of the North. He looked at his father and saw the look of defeat in his eyes.

"Father!" Martyn called out as he stood up from Tywin's side. Just then young Willem ran up to them.

"NO! FATHER NO!" he shrieked as he ran to his father's headless body. Willem dropped to his knees and wept as he clutched Kevan's body. Tyrion's heart broke for his little cousin. Afterwards he looked up at Robb and saw a brief look of pain flicker in his eyes. The young man dismounted his horse, his guard detail doing the same. As his feet met the ground Tyrion looked back to Martyn, who he noticed had drawn his sword.

"HEAR ME ROAR!" he bellowed the words of House Lannister as loud as he could with his childlike voice before running towards Robb with his sword raised. Tyrion blinked, his heart racing as fear gripped him. When Martyn was only a yard away Robb's direwolf lunged at him, knocking the sword out of his hand and tackling him to the ground. The beast bared its teeth at Martyn, who looked up at the animal with pure fear in his eyes.

"Grey Wind!" Robb called out, and the direwolf looked up at his master before wandering away. Martyn was then seized by a couple of Robb's guards and hauled to his feet. Tyrion looked up at Robb as he approached him with his bloody sword pointing at him. Knowing better than to fight an opponent who had the upper hand, Tyrion held his hands up in surrender.

"I yield," he said quietly. Robb nodded at him and then turned to walk over to Tywin, who Tyrion noticed was struggling to draw his sword. He watched as his father glared up at Robb, who pressed his blade against the side of Tywin's neck.

"Will you surrender to me Lord Lannister, or shall I claim your life this day?" he spoke, his voice loud. Tyrion looked at his father who grimaced in pain as he raised his hands up in surrender, a move that would have hurt his pride more than his broken leg hurt him.

"You may have won here boy," Tywin said with barely contained venom. "But my grandson will destroy you for this treason." Tyrion looked on as he felt a pair of hands lift him up to his feet before his own hands were bound with rope.

"Let's go Imp," the Northman said, leading Tyrion off.

"Somehow I doubt Joffrey will do that, especially once word of your defeat and capture has spread," Robb Stark stated as several Northmen wandered over to them.

As Tyrion was led away with his cousins, all three of them bound, he looked around the hills above them and smirked to himself.

"What're you smirking at Lannister?" one of the Northmen asked him, his voice laced with contempt.

"Nothing you need worry about," Tyrion replied, which earned him a jab to the side. He would not tell his captors that he was smirking because not that long ago he had thought about how easy it would be to annihilate his father's host if they were all in this same spot, with the hills around them. As they were escorted to wherever the Northmen were taking them Tyrion wondered what Joffrey would do once news of Tywin's defeat reaches King's Landing, and he hoped that Cersei would have the brains to make sure that her son did not do anything stupid. Then he thought about what Jamie will do when he hears about this. He'll come charging over from Riverrun and try and fight his way to victory, Tyrion thought, his lips curling up at the thought before his smile fell. But will he fight once he knows that Robb Stark holds all of us?

Robb

He was still shocked by what he had managed to achieve. In all the weeks since his father's arrest Robb did not once think that he would ever succeed in taking Tywin Lannister prisoner. But he had done it. They had lost a lot of men in the battle, but they had won. He had sent a thousand men with one man posing as himself to lure the Old Lion into his trap, at the cost of all of the men in that host. Some of his lords were against such a plan, including the Greatjon and Lady Maege Mormont, but others had approved, such as Ser Wylis Manderly and Lord Roose Bolton. His mother's uncle Ser Brynden, the Blackfish, had originally suggested the idea to him after he decided against crossing the Twins, knowing that old Walder Frey would more than likely ask for a steep price that may or may not include a marriage pact. He had been beyond nervous when he set his plan into motion, and it took many days before Lord Tywin took the bait, but in the end he did. And now Robb was riding back to where his mother was waiting with her guard detail.

As his mother came into view, Robb slowed his horse down to a trot. He had on either side of him Lord Umber and Lady Mormont, as well as their heirs Smalljon and Dacey, the former being the eldest son of the Greatjon while the latter was the eldest daughter of Lady Maege. Behind him were Lord Karstark and his sons Harrion, Torrhen and Eddard, as well as the Lord of the Dreadfort, Roose Bolton. Robb looked over his shoulder and saw a cart being pulled by a pair of horses; on the back of that cart with his hands bound, his wounded calf wrapped in a bandage and his broken leg supported with a splint was Tywin Lannister himself, with a smug looking Theon Greyjoy riding alongside the cart. It was Theon's arrow that had struck Lord Lannister through his calf, punching through the leg and into his horse, although it was the two arrows loosed off by other archers that killed the horse. The battle had gone to plan, aside from the unexpected presence of Vale Clansmen, but they had been broken fairly quickly. Robb's goal was to capture Tywin and his brother Ser Kevan, but after the deaths of Lord Halys Hornwood and his son Daryn at Kevan Lannister's hands Robb decided to kill the younger brother of the Lord of Casterly Rock. His only regret was that one of Kevan's sons had to witness Robb killing him. But in the end Robb had captured four Lannisters as well as numerous knights and lesser lords of the Westerlands.

As Robb halted his horse in front of his mother, Lady Catelyn urged her own horse closer to him. She stopped when she was next to him, and seemed to examine him closely before speaking.

"You have blood on your armour," she said with some worry in her voice. Robb nodded his head slightly.

"Only the blood on this arm is mine mother," he responded as he raised his left forearm up to show the cut leather of his gauntlet. "A cut from Ser Kevan Lannister when I fought him in the battle." Catelyn looked from Robb's wounded arm to his eyes.

"You better make sure that you get that arm checked by a healer," she said firmly. Robb had to fight the urge to roll his eyes; it was just like his mother to worry about him over such a small cut. Kevan Lannister's blow was not deep, and it was more of a lucky strike than anything else, but he knew his mother's worry was for more than a simple cut; she was likely worried about the wound getting infected or something. Robb nodded his head in response before he continued.

"We have managed to get several prisoners," he spoke as he turned his horse around to lead his mother to the cart. "We now hold the Imp prisoner once again, as well as Ser Kevan's sons, Willem and his twin Martyn."

"What of Ser Kevan himself?" Catelyn asked him. Robb looked towards the cart before he answered.

"I killed him myself," he stated. There was no joy in his voice when he said that. He felt nothing for the man and he truly did not feel that he had enjoyed killing him. He remembers his father's words to him years ago when he was still a young boy of eight, when he and Jon had first witnessed their father carrying out an execution. "You must take no joy when you take a man's life," he had said to them after the execution was done. Robb shook his head as they continued to ride to the cart. "He had killed Lord Hornwood and his son Daryn, as well as injuring Lord Cerwyn. He would not yield, despite being surrounded."

"You did what you had to Robb," Catelyn said quietly. "Who else have we taken?" Robb looked at his mother before looking back at the cart again.

"We took Ser Harys Swyft, Ser Amory Lorch, a few other lords… we killed the Mountain, who had killed over a dozen men before Ser Wylis was able to thrust his lance into the man. But we have the most important Lord as our prisoner," Robb finished as he stopped his horse next to the cart. He did not need to look at his mother to know that she was looking at the man who lay there. "The Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West and Shield of Lannisport, Tywin Lannister." The older man glared at him before turning his glare upon his mother.

"Lady Stark," Tywin spoke, his voice defiant despite his defeat. "All of this could have been avoided had you not abducted Tyrion." Robb looked at his mother and noticed that she flinched slightly at the Old Lion's words. "What gave you the right to act in such a manner?"

"I believed that your son attempted to murder my son Brandon," Catelyn spoke, her voice full of anger. "Your son sent an assassin to slit my seven-year-old boy's throat as he lay in a coma after being pushed from a tower. His leg may never heal properly because of your family."

"Do not dare to lay blame on my House for that which we were not responsible for," Tywin stated, wincing in pain slightly. "Taking a Lannister has never gone unanswered, or did you forget what happens to those who cross swords with me. Did your father not teach you of what happened to Houses Reyne and Tarbeck? The song they call The Rains of Castamere has surly been played once or twice in your presence?" Robb saw his mother shudder at Tywin's words; he had heard the tune once before as a boy, and it had left him feeling some dread afterwards.

"Taking a grievance against my House is one thing, my lord," Robb intervened then, spitting the courtesy out with venom. "But sacking the Riverlands in retaliation of my lady mother's actions is beyond dishonourable." Tywin glared at Robb again, and he had to fight to not shudder at the man's glare.

"Do not speak to me of honour boy," he spat. "Your mother slighted the honour of my House when she took Tyrion. She had no right, regardless of her accusations against him. If she had any sense then she would have taken Tyrion straight before King Robert, not telling everyone that she was taking him to Winterfell before going to the Eyrie instead. Utter madness." Robb hardened his eyes as he glared at Tywin. He is your prisoner, don't let him see your fear, he thought to himself.

"Putting innocents to the sword because your son was taken prisoner is madness Lannister," Robb retorted, raising his voice. "Ordering your men to murder those who cannot fight back is cowardly. Giving men leave to rape defenceless women and young girls is unforgivable, and any king who does not punish such an individual does not deserve to wear his crown, regardless of whether that individual is kin or not." Tywin Lannister continued to glare at Robb, but after a few moments he looked away. "You'll die for what you have done Lord Tywin," Robb added after a moment. "I will see to that myself."

"Will you now boy?" Tywin stated. "We shall see when Jamie hears of this. My eldest son holds Riverrun under siege, and if I am not mistaken he has your uncle, Ser Edmure Tully, as a prisoner. Lord Blackwood holds Riverrun while my son and the soldiers under his command hold the lands around Riverrun, as well as Lord Blackwood's seat at Raventree Hall. He will hear soon enough, and then we shall see." The old lord seemed quite confident in his son's skill, that much was clear to Robb, but Robb was more confident of victory himself; he would not tell Tywin Lannister just yet, but he had sent Ser Brynden Tully out to stop any Westermen from reporting back to the Kingslayer.

Rather than say another word to his prisoner, Robb turned his horse around and left the wounded lord in the cart, commanding Theon to follow him and his mother. Several Stark guardsmen walked over to watch their valuable prisoner while Robb and his companions rode away. For the next ten minutes Robb was silent as Theon spoke with Smalljon and Dacey further behind him. While Smalljon spoke with him Dacey largely ignored Theon; the Mormonts of Bear Island and their smallfolk have little love for the Ironborn after all.

"Lady Dacey, may I speak with you?" Catelyn asked the heir of Lady Maege. The young Mormont woman rode up to her and Robb, who looked over to them.

"Yes, my lady?" she asked once she was beside them. Robb noticed his mother smirk at her.

"Let's just have some idle chatter," she responded. "I noticed that you had little inclination to speak with Theon." Robb smiled once he realised what his mother had just done. Dacey smiled, and her eyes held a look of relief as well.

"I hold no ill will towards Theon my lady," she said. "I just find it difficult to interact with the likes of him."

"Because he is Ironborn," Robb said quietly to her. Dacey looked at him and after a moment she nodded her head. "My father taught me about the hatred between the folk of Bear Island and the Iron Islands. It was that hatred that saw the womenfolk of Bear Island learn to fight, and is the reason why the ladies of House Mormont are some of the fiercest fighters in the North." Dacey seemed to smirk at Robb's words, but it quickly turned into a grimace.

"I mean no disrespect to him, and not just because of the history between our people. Theon Greyjoy has been raised beside you and your siblings for nearly ten years. He is more Northman than Ironborn. His situation makes me feel sorry for him in a way," Dacey said. Robb looked at her, confused by her words.

"What do you mean by that Dacey?" he asked, noticing the look his mother gave him for not using Dacey's title. Dacey looked thoughtful before she gave her answer.

"He has been raised at Winterfell for most of his life. When and if the time comes for him to return to Pyke, he will have to prove himself to his lords and the smallfolk, who on the Iron Islands are a warrior people with a lust for murder and rape when they sail beyond their isles. They take women against their will to become salt wives, there purely for their pleasure, while they fight and slaughter men at any opportunity. If Theon should find himself in the position of being urged to attack the North, he will be in the most horrifying of situations where he will have to choose between fighting against those he has lived with for many years, or being seen as weak and possibly killed for it by his own people, perhaps even by his own family."

With her piece said the three of them fell silent for a time, Dacey's words repeating in Robb's own head. He has known that Theon was a hostage as much as a ward for as long as he has known him. Robb knows that he has been held to ensure that his father Lord Balon Greyjoy behaved himself after his failed rebellion against King Robert ten years ago. But not once has Robb thought of such a situation; it has never crossed his mind that one day the man he has called a friend and regarded as a brother for many years may become an enemy to prove himself to his family and his people or risk being killed by his own. It was an unpleasant thing to think about. As he was riding along thinking about Dacey's words his mother started another conversation.

"I have been meaning to ask you something Lady Dacey," Catelyn said then. Robb looked to the two women to hear what was about to be said. "Many months ago, before King Robert came to Winterfell, my lord husband and I had discussed fostering Arya, my youngest daughter, with your lady mother at Bear Island." Robb's eyes widened at what he heard; he knew that his parents had discussed and even argued about fostering Arya, but he did not think that they would ever have considered the Mormont's seat. "When this conflict has been resolved and my family returned to Winterfell, I would be honoured to send my youngest daughter to foster with your family." Dacey looked at Robb's mother with what he thought was a stunned look.

"Are you sure Lady Stark?" Dacey asked. "You do know that the women of my family are known to train in the arts of war as well as learn the womanly pursuits?" Catelyn nodded her head.

"It was for that reason that I initially refused Ned," she said. "He had argued that your mother would be more than capable of teaching Arya what she needed to know to be a lady of the North without causing too much trouble. We had argued over it and never resolved the issue when King Robert took Ned and the girls south with him." Robb saw the look of regret that his mother had in her eyes over what she had just told them. He cleared his throat to gain their attention.

"Perhaps it would be best to wait and see what Arya says," he said to them. "I would like to see my little sister back home, and then if she is willing we can discuss sending her to foster at Bear Island if Lady Maege is willing to have her." Both Catelyn and Dacey seemed to agree with his words, judging by their expressions. "Oh and a word of warning for you Dacey; Arya will more than likely be quite a handful for you and your mother," he added. Dacey laughed.

"My mother has had to raise me and my four little sisters Robb," she said while laughing. "I think it is Arya who will find us to be a handful." With that they resumed their ride in a comfortable silence.

As soon as Robb and his companions had dismounted their horses a guardsman wandered over to them. The man wore the colours of House Umber and spoke directly with the Greatjon before going up to Robb.

"Milord Stark," he said. "A rider has just come back from Ser Brynden Tully's outriders. They have managed to capture Ser Addam Marbrand and eliminate his surviving host. As far as can be told, all Westermen are either dead or held prisoner." That news brought a smile to Robb, who handed his reins to a stable boy who was waiting nearby.

"Very good," he said with his lord's voice, a talent his father had taught him over the last few years. "Send word to him to continue on towards Riverrun and keep the Kingslayer's host ignorant of our presence."

"Will do milord," the man said with a bow before walking off to carry out Robb's command. Robb turned to look at Lord Umber who was smirking wide as if ready to laugh. Just then Grey Wind padded past the giant Northern lord who glanced at the direwolf with discomfort, no doubt still a touch fearful of the beast after he tore off and ate two of the Greatjon's fingers; it was after that incident that the Greatjon became Robb's most loyal champion.

"Old Tywin Lannister beaten and humiliated, his brother dead by your hand, his son the Imp our prisoner as well along with Tywin's nephews, and the Kingslayer doesn't know a damned thing about it," the Greatjon said with a chortle. "I'd say that the Lannisters are well and truly fucked now, begging your pardons my lady," he said while looking at Catelyn. Robb saw his mother give a slight smile at the Greatjon's words. Smalljon chuckled at his father while Lady Maege just shook her head with an amused look in her eye. Dacey stood with her arms folded and one hip resting against a barrel that she was stood next to.

"Well, we should get ourselves some ale down our throats I think," Theon spoke as he walked over to Robb's side with a mischievous grin.

"I agree," Robb said. "After you my lords and ladies." At that everyone entered the command tent, with Robb hanging back until they were all in. Before he entered his mother put a hand on his shoulder.

"I have noticed that you seem to be quite familiar with Lady Dacey Robb," she said, catching him off guard. Robb swallowed before he spoke to his mother.

"I am quite familiar with most of them mother," he said.

"Well, I have not heard you address either Lord Umber or Lady Mormont with the same familiarity as you have with Lady Mormont's daughter," Catelyn responded with a slight smile. Before Robb could answer the flaps of the tent were pulled aside to reveal Smalljon Umber.

"Robb, you coming in just now or shall I tell my father and the others to wait before drinking?" he asked, to which Robb smiled.

"I shall wait for Lord Karstark and his sons to join us Smalljon," he said just as the men in question walked into view. "I'll join you in a moment." He had only just finished speaking when Harrion walked up and patted him on the shoulder.

"Good plan there Robb. Must say I never once doubted it," Harrion spoke with a smile.

"Thanks Harrion," Robb answered before looking at his younger brothers Torrhen and Eddard. "Torr, Edd, how are you both doing?" As he asked his question he noticed his mother raise her eyebrows.

"Aye, we're okay Robb," Torrhen answered.

"Just a couple of dents to my armour, nothing a blacksmith can't handle," Eddard said. The three sons of Rickard Karstark walked into the tent while the Lord of Karhold himself gave Robb a respectful look.

"You're doing quite alright so far lad," he said. "You'll make Ned proud once he hears of what you have achieved." Robb was glad that his face was still covered in muck and blood as it helped to hide the blush he got from Lord Karstark's praise.

"Thank you Lord Karstark," he said to him. As the older man walked in Robb looked back at his mother, who looked at him with a raised brow. "I address the lords of the North as befits their rank, but their heirs and other children I speak with as equals," he said by way of explanation. Catelyn however just folded her arms.

"That does not explain why you speak with Lady Dacey with such familiarity Robb," she said. "I remember years ago when you were seven when Lord Karstark came to Winterfell with his family. You spoke with his sons as if you had known them for a long time, but you always addressed his daughter Alys as 'Lady Alys' or simply 'my lady'." It was with those words that Robb finally realised what his mother was insinuating, and this time no amount of muck and blood on his face could hide the blush that crept up onto his cheeks. That time when Lord Karstark came to Winterfell with his sons and daughter Robb had been told that the Lord of Karhold had been trying to arrange a match between him and his daughter Alys. Shaking his head he rubbed his hand over his face.

"Honestly mother, I do not have any… romantic feelings towards Dacey," he said. "She has made it clear to me that she will not be married to any man who would take her away from Bear Island. Any man she marries would either have to be of a lower station or be willing to give up their inheritance. Also mother," he said stepping closer to Catelyn, "Dacey told me that she hates being addressed as 'my lady', hence why I call her by her first name." With his explanation given Catelyn seemed to now understand that there was no romance going on or anything else that would otherwise be inappropriate, as a septa would no doubt say.

Robb and his mother entered the tent and sat around the table where the others had gathered. Theon had gotten several tankards out and was just starting to fill them up with ale. As he was pouring drinks other lords entered the tent, including Galbart Glover and Ser Helman Tallhart. Robb pulled out his mother's chair for her and then once she was sat down he wandered over to Theon and took a tankard of ale. Theon sat down after making sure that everyone had a drink, including Robb's mother who had a cup of water that she had poured herself before taking a seat. Robb raised his drink, and the others did the same.

"To the men who gave their lives to draw the Old Lion into our trap," he said as he raised his tankard a little higher. "And to a swift end to this conflict." The other's gathered in the tent raised their own tankards and then they all took a drink. Afterwards Robb sat down, and soon they started to discuss what to do next. Robb had already decided on what to do but he listened to what his lords said. After a while he looked at his mother and waited to see if she would speak. Only when she remained silent did Robb speak. "We shall aid Riverrun by luring out the Kingslayer and trapping him before we destroy his host," he said. "Ser Helman, I leave you in charge of Harrenhal's defence. You shall have twelve-thousand men, as well as Lady Mormont and half of her force. Ser Donnel Locke shall continue to keep an eye on the Twins for us with his thousand men, leaving us with less than five-thousand to march with me to Riverrun."

"With less than five-thousand we will be outnumbered by the Kingslayer's host," Harrion Karstark said. Robb nodded to him in response.

"I shall send riders throughout the Riverlands to seek out those lords loyal to my grandfather," he said. "Galbart Glover, Ser Wylis Manderly." The two men in question stood up and waited for Robb to continue. "I want the two of you to organise the riders in question. Send word to Lord Mallister at Seagard and ask for his aid in breaking the siege at Riverrun. Also send out word to Lords Bracken, Vance and Piper. And send a message to the Twins as well."

"Would it be wise to involve the Freys my lord?" asked Lord Bolton in that quiet voice of his. "Lord Walder's second son is after all married to Tywin Lannister's sister." Robb considered Lord Bolton's words carefully before he answered.

"We hold Tywin Lannister as our prisoner, as well as the Imp and Ser Kevan's twin sons Willem and Martyn," Robb stated. "If the Old Lion's sister wants her kin back she will need to consult with Lord Frey before trying to send his men after us, and somehow I doubt that the Lord of the Crossing will stand against us after word of our victory reaches them." It was at that point that Robb's mother spoke.

"Lord Walder Frey is a cautious man," she said when everyone looked at her. "He would not march when victory is not assured or when there is the strong chance of retribution being carried out against him. But I am certain that he would send some aid if given the right incentive." Robb knew what his mother meant by those words. He took a moment to think before he stood up and gave his answer.

"If he wants a good match for a daughter or granddaughter of his then we can discuss such a thing," he said. "But I tell everyone here now that I will not and shall not marry a Frey." He saw how Catelyn narrowed her eyes at him as he spoke those words. "I mean no malice when I say that, but it is unprecedented and unheard of for two consecutive Ladies of Winterfell to be born outside of the North. When I marry I intend to take a wife from a noble House of the North, but such a thing shall wait until after I have returned to Winterfell. Now unless there is something that anyone feels they need to say, I suggest we all drink up, get some food down our throats and then rest. We march at first light."

Olyvar

Olyvar rushed through the halls of the Twins, sweat pouring down his forehead. He was anxious to know what was happening in the great hall where he and all of his large family had been summoned to. All he knows is that it concerns his father Lord Walder, the head of House Frey and Lord of the Crossing. His younger sister Roslin had found him and told him of their brother Ser Stevron's command. Olyvar was anxious; he wondered if the meeting was called because of the war that is being fought in the Riverlands. At seventeen he was nervous and excited by the prospect of fighting, for he has always wanted to be a knight like his eldest full-blooded brother Perwyn and his eldest half-brother Stevron who was old enough to be his grandfather (just as their father was old enough to be his grandfather), but the thought of dying in battle always scared him.

After rushing through the halls for several minutes he found himself at the doors of the great hall, which were already open. Olyvar walked through the doors and moved past his numerous kin; brothers and sisters, full-blooded and half; nieces and nephews, older and younger; great-nieces and great-nephews; trueborn and bastard-born. The Twins were full of Freys. Olyvar had once heard a jape saying that his father Lord Walder could field an army from his breeches with how many descendants he has. After moving (and in some instances pushing) through the crowd Olyvar found himself a seat to take. As he looked around he saw Roslin walking over to him, with their younger half-sister Shirei holding her hand. The two girls sat down beside him.

"Do you know what is happening?" Roslin asked. Olyvar shook his head.

"I've no idea Roslin," he said. "But whatever it is, it can't be good." Almost as soon as he had finished talking Stevron appeared and walked up to their father's seat. The seat was made of black oak with the back carved in the shape of two towers joined by an arched bridge. As Stevron Frey approached the seat the great hall fell silent. Stevron stood looking at the seat, his head bowed. Olyvar watched as his eldest brother stood for what seemed like an eternity before the man turned around, his eyes hollow and red.

"My kin," the aged knight spoke, his soft voice loud in the quiet hall. "It is with great sadness that I inform you all that our sire, Lord Walder, has died." Stevron's announcement was met with gasps, most of them quiet. It was known that Walder Frey was coming to the end of his life but still no one expected him to die so soon, even though he was ninety years old. "He died peacefully in his sleep last night after visiting the chambers of our good-mother Lady Joyeuse. The Maester confirms that it was simply old age that took our sire from us. May the Mother have mercy on his soul." The great hall descended into chatter then, before Stevron held his hand up. "Our sire has kept us here for our own safety during the conflict that has ravaged much of the Riverlands, and has to our shame ignored our liege lord's command to send aid. Therefore as the Lord of the Crossing after Lord Walder's death it falls to me to ensure that we uphold our oath. I call upon all of my able bodied kin to take up arms and march for Riverrun to lift the siege, and to rescue our liege's son and heir Ser Edmure. I have sent our brother Ser Perwyn to treat with the Northmen who were left outside our walls by the Young Wolf to see if they will be willing to assist us in bringing aid to Riverrun."

"What if they won't assist us though?" someone in the crowd asked. Stevron's eyes seemed to fall then, and the man was silent before he answered.

"Then we shall not interact with them unless they give us reason to do so," he answered. "I do not expect them to offer to help us with relieving Riverrun, seeing as they were left there to keep an eye on us. But should they decide to help then we shall allow them to cross without delay or toll." Those words were followed by many cries of anger.

"But we've always collected our toll Stevron," one of the older Freys said loudly.

"Indeed we have brother, but we have neglected our duty to Lord Tully, and so we must make amends for that," Stevron replied. That made sense to Olyvar, even though others did not agree with it.

After a long hour of talking Stevron dismissed everyone in the hall, except for Olyvar and his sister Roslin. The two of them stayed behind while everyone else left. Olyvar's nephew Ryman (Stevron's eldest son who was older than Olyvar) was also stood in the hall along with his sons. Once everyone else had left Stevron walked up to them.

"Chaos," he murmured. "Pure and utter chaos."

"We should take the fight straight to the Lannisters father," Ryman said. Stevron looked at his son, glaring at him.

"Should we now? March our four-thousand men to Riverrun, where a host of fifteen-thousand Westermen led by Ser Jamie Lannister of all people are stood outside? Yes they may have been forced to split their numbers into three separate camps, but they would still be able to mount an effective defence against our own host and still destroy us. Can you suggest how we can defeat them Ryman? Well?" Ryman looked down to the floor, his eyes looking anywhere but at his father. "I thought not. Now go outside and make sure our men are ready to march." With his command given Ryman left the great hall, his sons following him. Once they were gone Stevron sighed.

"My lord?" Roslin asked, earning a chuckle from their brother.

"It's just family here Roslin," he said. "The name our lord father gave me will suffice." Olyvar chuckled briefly at that before managing to stop himself. "My eldest son advocates going straight up to Jamie Lannister's host, completely forgetting that my brother Emmon's sons are squires in Ser Jamie's host. His own cousins, and he would not think twice about drawing steel against his kin." Olyvar watched as Stevron shook his head. The aged knight sat down before them and took a deep breath before continuing. "I shall leave Lothar in charge of running the Twins in my stead. I will send the bulk of our forces to the Whispering Wood to watch the siege. I will be riding to meet up with young Robb Stark and to see if we can come to an agreement." Olyvar heard a slight gasp coming from Roslin.

"Do you mean a marriage pact?" she asked. Olyvar was not sure if her voice was full of hope or worry. Stevron smiled.

"I will see about a marriage, but I do not think the young Stark will consent to wedding you or any of our sisters," he said.

"And why wouldn't he?" Olyvar asked. "Even a fool could see that Roslin is a beauty." His elder brother laughed before fixing Olyvar with a serious look.

"Young Stark's mother is Lady Catelyn of House Tully," he responded. "Our liege lord's oldest daughter. It is unheard of for two Ladies of Winterfell to be born outside of the North. To keep his father's bannermen from grumbling too much young Robb will have to take a young Northern bride, so I have no hope of seeing any of our sisters marrying him. But, as long as we do this carefully and without causing offence to the Northmen, I am almost certain that I can convince the lordling and his mother to help me convince Ser Edmure to marry you Roslin." Olyvar looked to his sister, and was pleased to find that she was just as stunned as he was.

"Me?" she asked. "But I thought that Lord Tully would not want his son to wed a lady of our House?" Stevron nodded his head.

"Lord Hoster is not long for this world I believe," he said. "I doubt that he will see the end of this war. When that happens then I will begin talks with Ser Edmure, and hopefully I can get his sister and nephew on side too." He sat up straighter as he spoke. "I will see you wed to a powerful lord Roslin. It was father's wish that you marry well, being the fairest of his daughters, and I shall see it done." Olyvar leant back in his seat as Stevron said those words.

"If Ser Edmure doesn't take Roslin as his bride then what will you do?" he asked Stevron. The older man looked at him with a small smile.

"You let me worry over that Olyvar," he said. "Besides, I have a different task for you." Olyvar looked up at his brother then, his eyes widening and his heart racing. "You shall ride with me when I go to meet with the Northern host. We received a messenger from one of our own spies that Robb Stark has somehow smashed the host of Tywin Lannister and captured him, along with many other Westermen." Upon hearing those words Olyvar was astonished; it was widely believed that no one could ever defeat the Lord of Casterly Rock, and yet some lordling has managed to achieve just that.

"How was that possible?" Roslin asked before Olyvar could say anything.

"I am not entirely sure Roslin," Stevron said with a smile. "There was a lot said that I am still trying to make sense of. The man in question who witnessed the battle had to evade outriders that were led by the Blackfish, Ser Brynden Tully." Olyvar's eyes widened further at this.

"I thought that the Blackfish was in the Vale of Arryn?" he stammered. Stevron's smile turned into a smirk.

"It seems that he decided to aid the son of his eldest niece," he said. "Now then, Roslin. You shall stay here for now until I send for you. When I do you will be escorted to Riverrun where you will hopefully marry Ser Edmure, or another lord if that does not happen. Of course, that will not happen for quite some time. As for you Olyvar, we shall ride out on the morrow with our host. We will join up with the Young Wolf, and so long as he agrees you shall become his squire." Olyvar's heart was now thumping with excitement. "From what I know Robb Stark is a couple of years younger than you, but he is very much like his father Lord Eddard. Honourable and loyal like his father, and if what we have heard is true then it would seem that he is an incredible strategist. Of course he may very well have had help with his planning, but if that is the case then we can be assured that we should achieve victory in this conflict. Now then, away with the both of you, I have some work to do before I leave the Twins in Lothar's care. Olyvar, start packing what you need, the life of a squire is hard and arduous." With those words spoken Olyvar and Roslin left the great hall, both of them excited and nervous.

Jon

Jon was very angry when Bran told him what was happening. He had never felt so angry in his entire life, but now his hands trembled with fury. Some months ago Jon was set to become a ranger of the Night's Watch, which was all he had wanted, but the plotting of Alliser Thorne had scuppered that. When he arrived at the Wall months ago he did not fit in with the others until a conversation with Donal Noye, a steward of the Watch, led him to rethink his own attitude towards them. After a few weeks Jon had befriended most of the other recruits, but at the same time earned the enmity of Ser Alliser, the master-at-arms of Castle Black. This was further worsened when Sam came to the Wall.

Samwell Tarly was the oldest son of Lord Randyll Tarly, the Lord of Horn Hill in the Reach. Unlike his father who was a renowned general Sam was a craven; he was also fat, and was timid and unsure of himself, yet despite that Jon could see that he was an intelligent young man. Jon helped him when others would not, much to Thorne's annoyance. Sam was a good friend to Jon, even supporting him as he got more concerned over the disappearance of his Uncle Benjen, the First Ranger of the Night's Watch. But after a few weeks word came from the Shadow Tower that Benjen was recovering from injuries sustained during his ranging. It was on that same day that Jon was to swear his oath and become a sworn brother of the Watch. But as Lord Commander Jeor Mormont read out where all the recruits were to go Jon's heart sank when he heard that he was to be made a steward instead of a ranger. Jon was angry at this, and saw the pleased look that Thorne had on his face, and he knew that the master-at-arms was behind this, probably because he helped to get Sam inducted sooner than he should have been to spare him from the training that Thorne would put him through. In anger Jon stormed out of the sept where the recruits were told which orders they would be given to. After spending the next hour thinking about it Jon decided to leave; he came to Castle Black a free man and so he was free to leave until he took his vows. As he had not yet taken his vows he was going to leave the Wall behind him. His uncle was safe at the Shadow Tower recovering from his wounds and so he felt that there was no need for him to stay, especially if all he was going to get was Thorne's gloating.

Much to Jon's surprise, and the surprise of the Lord Commander, Jon was not the only one to decide to leave. Grenn, Pyp and Sam all joined him as he left, as none of them took their vows either and they arrived at the Wall as free men. They followed him in protest at the decision to make Jon a steward instead of a ranger. Jon left the Wall with Ghost alongside him, as well as the others. They stayed at Moles Town for four weeks before they were able to get more money and supplies to go south to Winterfell. Jon was apprehensive about going back to his father's home; he was worried at how Lady Catelyn would react to him returning. Instead he arrived a fortnight after leaving Moles Town to find that Robb had taken an army south to free their father, who had been arrested for treason. Jon learned that Lady Catelyn had gone to King's Landing to tell his father of an attempt on Bran's life, and on the way back with Ser Rodrik she had encountered and arrested Lord Tyrion, believing him to be responsible. Jon could not quite understand how Lady Catelyn came to that conclusion, but that did not matter now.

Jon was sat by the table with Grenn, Pyp and Sam sat around him. Ser Rodrik was stood beside him, a grim look in his eyes. Bran had told him how Lord Commander Mormont had sent a letter to Winterfell by raven telling them that Jon had left before taking his vows. Bran was happy that Jon was back; he seemed happy despite the state of his leg. When he had fallen he had the good fortune of landing on a cart that had some hay on it. There was enough hay to save him from being crippled, but not enough to prevent him from striking his head against the side of the cart and twisting his leg. Maester Luwin had assured them at the time that the leg could still heal if Bran was careful when moving around. From what Jon heard Bran struggled for a while before he was able to adapt to his situation. As he thought on all he had learned he found his hands trembling in anger. He was so angry at what happened to father and his sisters; Sansa was being held by Joffrey while there was nothing about Arya, which made Jon very angry.

"Hey Jon, ease up," Grenn said. "You look ready to throttle someone." Jon let out a sigh.

"Give me the opportunity and I'll throttle Joffrey," he said through gritted teeth. Ser Rodrik laughed.

"I think you'll have to join a long line there Jon," he said. "A lot of folk would love to wring his neck." Jon chuckled slightly at Rodrik's words. Just then the door opened to reveal Bran hobbling in on a cane with Maester Luwin close by. "Hello Bran," Rodrik said. Jon looked over to his brother.

"My lord," he spoke with a slight grin on his face, a grin that Bran returned.

"It seems that you have gotten worse with you formalities Jon," he said. It warmed Jon's heart to see Bran on his feet, despite the awkwardness of walking with a poor leg. Once Bran was sat down Jon's face became sombre again.

"Any more news about what's going on in the south?" he asked. Bran sighed as he reached for a cup of water.

"Still nothing Jon," he said. "A messenger sent by Robb after he reached the Twins stated that he would not send any letters to us until after he has lifted the siege at Riverrun. That was a few weeks ago. For all we know Robb could have already taken the Kingslayer prisoner or killed him." Jon looked down at the table they were sat at before reaching over to take a cup and fill it with water from the jug in front of him.

"I should be there," he said as he looked up at Bran. "He'll need me at his side." Rodrik chuckled next to him as he sat down.

"By the time you get there he might well have won the battles and got your lord father back," he said. Jon sank into his seat, letting out a long deep breath.

"Ser Rodrik's right Jon," Sam said. "You might as well just stay here and help to train the other men. You know… just in case those men are needed."

"Aye," Grenn spoke up. "It'll give me and Pyp a chance to improve our skills with a sword. And see if your Ser Rodrik here can teach us anything that you haven't." Jon looked at his friends and saw the smiles on their faces. Rodrik laughed gruffly.

"I hope you've been saying nothing other than the truth about me lad," he said. Jon smirked.

"Oh I've only told them the good things about you. Just the good things, not the important things," Jon said. Rodrik chuckled at that, with a look much like the sort seen on the face of a man who is plotting something truly terrible. Jon struggled not to laugh at the looks of worry on both Grenn and Pyp's faces.

Just as Jon was about to laugh loudly a servant entered the room, followed by a guardsman with the Stark direwolf stamped on his leather armour. The guardsman looked like he has ridden hard for some time.

"Many pardons milord," the servant said. "This man has arrived from south of the Neck from the camp outside of the Twins. He has an important message from Lord Robb." Jon noticed how Bran's face had become very serious then.

"Very well," he spoke with his voice (while still that of a child) full of authority. "What news does my brother send?" he asked the guardsman. The man bowed before them and held out a sealed letter.

"Lord Robb Stark sends word of his victory at the Green Fork of the Trident," he said as Bran took the letter. "He sent commands for news to be spread throughout the North, though I have not been told of the contents of the letter." Bran broke the seal on the letter as the guardsman spoke. Jon noticed that the seal was the racing direwolf, the sigil of House Stark. Bran read the letter slowly, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the words before after a while they widened. Jon looked at his little brother, watching him read the letter. After a moment Bran looked up at him, a wide smile on his face.

"Robb has taken Tywin Lannister prisoner," he said. Jon stared wide eyed at his brother, his mouth hanging open.

"What?" Sam spoke then. "B...but, how could…could he have managed that?" he was able to stammer out. Bran looked up at Sam, the smile not leaving his face.

"He hasn't gone into detail in his letter," Bran said. "What he does say is that he managed to lure Lord Lannister into a trap where he was able to surround him and take him alive. It's brilliant."

"How's that brilliant?" Grenn asked.

"How's that meant to get the King to release Lord Stark?" asked Pyp.

"Tywin Lannister is King Joffrey's grandfather," Jon answered his friends. "The Queen is his daughter. Queen Cersei will do anything to see her family delivered to her safely, perhaps even release my father and sisters."

"Hopefully," Rodrik said then. "We have to hope that the boy on the throne will pay attention. Something tells me that he won't. I don't know what it is, but that day Bran," he said as he looked towards Bran, "when I oversaw the sparring between you and Prince Tommen, something about the new King said that he wanted to make a statement. I'll be damned if I know what though, but thinking back on it makes me nervous." Jon nodded his head in agreement.

"You mean when you denied Joffrey live steel when he was to go against Robb for a second time that day in the tiltyard," he said, remembering when he was watching from a window with Arya stood next to him.

"Aye lad," Rodrik said. "With a boy like that as a king, anything could happen. All we can do is pray that it won't be anything bad."

For the rest of the day Jon and the others conversed and spoke of how things had been since Jon was last at Winterfell. As they spoke they ate and drank before it was time for sleep. Bran hobbled back to his rooms with help from Maester Luwin and Jon, with Ghost walking beside Summer, Bran's direwolf. Once he was settled Jon left for his own rooms, which were bare. He sat down on the bed after putting some more logs on the fire, and before long he drifted off to sleep. As he slept he dreamed, and his dreams disturbed him. Jon saw his father's head being displayed by a man wielding Ice, the ancestral sword of House Stark, with blood dripping from the blade; he saw Sansa crying as she was being tormented and humiliated by Joffrey, with her dress being ripped off of her by Joffrey's Kingsguard; he saw Arya being chased by Lannister men as they slaughter countless other people before she is grabbed by a brute of a man who then drags her off into the woods, ripping her breeches down as she struggles against him. Just as he realises what is going on each time Jon tries to run and help his father and sisters; he tries to reach his father and kill the man who beheads him; he tries to stop Sansa's torment before the Kingsguard use the flat side of their swords to beat her; he rushes to save Arya before the man can rape her. And each time he fails. Finally after the dreams have played in his head several times he finds himself in the godswood of Winterfell, walking beside Ghost as they make their way to the weirwood at the heart of the godswood. Once there he kneels before the tree and prays to the old gods.

"Keep them safe in the south," he pleads softly. "Don't let any harm befall them. Watch over them, don't let Joffrey hurt them any more than he already has done." As he finished his prayer the leaves rustled in the wind, and a voice spoke softly to him.

"Go south Jon Snow," the voice said to him. "Go south and there you will meet your destiny, and save your kin." Jon felt a shudder run up his spine, and before he knew it he was sitting upright in his bed in Winterfell, sweat pouring down his face as the sun shined through the window. As he sat there in his bed he thought about what he dreamed. Had the old gods actually just told him to go south, or was he losing his mind? Jon felt that he had to go to Robb, but he felt that he should stay with Bran and keep him safe. But what if what he saw in his dreams were to become true? Could he live with himself if his father was killed and his sisters humiliated and violated by Joffrey's men? Could he forgive himself, especially if those things could be avoided simply by him going south? And what if those dreams were just that, dreams?

In the end Jon knew exactly what he had to do. So he got out of his bed, washed himself and then walked to the kitchens to get himself some food. After he had eaten Jon searched for his brother, and found him sat outside watching Rickon play with Shaggydog and Summer.

"Bran," he called out to him. Bran turned his head to look at him and upon seeing the serious look in Jon's eyes his own smile faded.

"You're going south, aren't you?" he stated. Jon nodded his head. "I saw it last night as I slept. I watched in my dreams as you left with some companions to go to Robb and help him free father and Sansa and Arya." Bran's words made Jon blink in confusion.

"But, how could you…" he started before trailing off. Bran smiled slightly before he shrugged his shoulders.

"Since I woke up I have had dreams that sometimes became real," he said. "I thought nothing of it, until you came back with your friends, and told us that Uncle Benjen had returned to the Wall and was recovering at the Shadow Tower. I had seen you return, and I had seen our uncle limp into the Shadow Tower with a wounded arm." Jon was surprised at this, especially as he did not tell Bran about their uncle's injuries, which he had been told of by Maester Aemon when the message came. "Go south Jon," Bran said. "If you being there helps our family, then go. You may not have Tully blood but the words of my mother's House apply to you as well."

"Family, Duty, Honour," Jon murmured. Bran nodded his head.

"Go and help Robb Jon. He'll need your help now more than ever. And remember this; you are a Stark of Winterfell. Wherever we go winter follows, and when you and Robb march on the capitol together Joffrey will soon know that Winter is Coming for him."

So Jon made his preparations and gathered Grenn and Pyp. Sam decided to follow despite Jon insisting that he stay at Winterfell, and to his surprise Ser Rodrik showed up with half a dozen men, telling him that they will help with getting Jon down to Riverrun and then they will join with the army. Jon thanked the old master-at-arms before mounting his horse. Before long he was ready, and then the gates opened up. Jon bid his brothers farewell, and then he rode off, to the south.

And to war...