Perspectives

Daenerys couldn't make heads or tails of what she was seeing below her. Her three dragons circled the air, just looking for an opportunity in which she could swoop down and release fire upon her enemies. However, such opportunities were impossible to find, Aegon had led his men directly into her forces.

The cavalry charge had not been effective, but the elephants that followed were, devastatingly so. They broke through the lines of the Unsullied that were already engaged in brutal combat with the cavalry and made a wide opening that when the infantry came about, only made things worse. Her Unsullied were disorganised, her Sellswords having been drawn into the large mob of bodies that she saw below.

In the beginning, it had been easy to tell her forces from the enemy apart quite easily. The Unsullied armour was easy to spot, the mass of multi-coloured Sellswords easily to spot positioned behind them. Aegon and his forces were simply to spot also, the orange clothed Dornish and the golden armoured Golden Company stood out easily.

Their armies were easy to spot in the beginning, even when they clashed together. But as the wet ground beneath their feet turned to mud, staining their tunics and armour brown and black, it was all but impossible at this point.

All Daenerys could do was circle the air as she rode on Drogon's back.

Looking down and trying to spot an opening in which she could do something to firmly place the advantage in her hands. But no such opportunities were easy to spot, the mudstained bodies were impossible to distinguish them apart from this distance. Even if she did come across a group of Aegon's forces, they were surrounded by her men fighting against them and she did not wish to take the risk of killing them also.

It was out of the corner of her eye that she noticed movement from Robb's army, a small force of around a thousand maybe a little more, heading towards the battle. 'So he is upholding his end of the bargain after all.' There was a sense of relief that filled her at that realisation.

Fighting Robb so soon after fighting against Aegon, especially with Randyll Tarly and his army plus the cavalry force moving south had not appealed to her in the slightest. Especially not when she considered the tactical mind that Robb possessed, she had seen it in action firsthand. From what little she had seen, it was clear that he far outclassed any of her commanders. Daenerys did not want to make an enemy out of Robb, just as it appeared he did not want to make an enemy out of her.

That was good news at least.

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When he saw the Stark vanguard rushing to the battle Ser Barristan did not feel anything but a sense of caution. The battlefield below was unlike anything he had witnessed before, a field of chaos and death. Every battle was chaotic, but there was always a clear line of order, commanders able to give orders that created some semblance of organisation.

Yet none of that was apparent here.

Both sides were so deeply intertwined with one another that any orders given were quickly forgotten as they were beset by enemy soldiers from all sides. The only saving grace was that it was the same for Aegon's army as well.

Just as he had expected, the moment the Stark vanguard joined the battle, they were quickly swallowed up by the chaos of the battle. Though that was not completely accurate, they did well, their commander was capable.

He held control of the vanguard enough to cut a deep line almost making it into the centre of the field before being swallowed up by the chaos of battle. Whoever was in command was capable enough to keep control of his men to a degree that they weren't immediately dispersed and separated all throughout the battlefield. But ultimately, it was too much for him to retain command forever and just like both sides, was lost in the chaos of battle.

'Something doesn't feel right though.' Ser Barristan thought to himself, gripping the handle of his blade anxiously as he looked down upon the battlefield. No matter what he tried, no matter what orders he gave, very few were actually seen to be put into action. Those that did, were often foiled before they got a chance to come to fruition.

He had never seen anything like it before.

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"This is insane," Dickon muttered, disbelievingly.

"I've never seen anything like this." Lord Piper concurred, equally as shocked by what he was witnessing.

All of them had fought beside Robb, some from the very beginning of the war, all the way back in the Battle of the Whispering Woods. Each had gone from positions of just fighters and sons of noblemen to becoming noblemen themselves, to replace their dead fathers. Others proved themselves on the field of battle, earning the favour of the King to the point he promoted them to commanders.

They had all fought in battles, seen the chaos that came from it.

But this was unlike anything they had born witness to before.

They could see from here, flags being raised by Ser Barristan only to see no shift in the battlefield below. Aegon's last-ditch attempt to fully engage with Daenerys' forces had miraculously worked. There was no position of command that could give tactical orders to turn the tide in one sides favour or another. This was a battle determined entirely by the skill of the soldiers fighting in it.

Even when they saw Smalljon smash into the battlefield, cutting a path directly to the centre where he no doubt believed Aegon to be, even he eventually was lost in the mass of bodies. Their vanguard force was indistinguishable from the rest of the men that clashed against one another.

That alone was shocking to them all.

There were many capable fighters amongst Robb's army, some surpassing even Smalljon in skills, grace and finesse.

They had seen Ser Garlan use fancy footwork and flourish of his blades to gain victory over Smalljon in duels.

They had seen the King outsmart the Mad Giant, using the man's simplistic ways to emerge victoriously.

They had seen Dacey Mormont, Ser Brienne, Patrek Mallister and many others overcome the Lord of the Last Hearth.

Yet there was a reason why they never dared cross his path in a battle, why no one wanted to be on the other end of the Mad Giants anger, a reason he had earned that name, to begin with. The man when in battle was an entirely different person, a ferocious, mad beast that laughed as he cut through men by the dozen. His longsword swung around in large arcing swipes that could cut through a man cleanly.

In a duel, Smalljon was calm, for an Umber that was, and so his simplistic way of fighting was easy to overcome. In battle, he was possessed by a certain madness that many of the Northmen described as making him much like a Mountain Clan Berserker.

They had heard tales of the Greatjon Umber, of how he had apparently died with dozens of spears and swords sticking out of his body, yet still able to kill men in droves before finally, his body gave out. His son possessed a similar fighting spirit, to the point that none wished to be on the other end of Smalljon Umber in battle.

It was why the King had finally given Smalljon command of the vanguard after so long. In this battle against the likes of the Golden Company, such a force could prove effective and it had.

Until it wasn't.

Smalljon was no doubt still there, fighting and laughing madly.

But their vanguard force was lost.

As most of Robb's aides looked towards the battlefield, it was only Dacey who noticed the small upturn of Robb's lips. She had seen the look before, a look of when he figured out what his enemy was doing. Yet there was also something she hadn't seen before, a look of recognition. As if what he was seeing was enough to make him respect his opponent for what they were about to pull off.

And yet he gave no order.

Robb Stark just remained silent, smiling and watching as the battle continued down below.

Not for the first time, Dacey wished she could see into the mind of her King, to see just for a moment what he saw every time he looked down upon the battlefield. To see what he was planning and thinking.