The Northern March
Robb Stark watched with steely eyes as men sworn to his father, now him, marched from beside the road. The North was home to a hardy and fierce people who'd grown accustomed to the terribly harsh weather, the treacherous terrain and the savage wildlife that walked about in the ancient forests sprawling across the kingdom.
There wasn't much that shook his people, but even Robb, inexperienced as he was, could very well see the jitter in their tread, their wandering eyes, and their hands on their weapons.
Many among them made him feel like a small boy, with their thick beards and their long hair and their giant statures. And if even these old men of war, who disliked small pleasures like gambling and tourneys, were so deeply unsettled, who was Robb to think he was not?
He moved his gaze from the marching men to the cause of their worry.
The Twins, ruled by House Frey, held sole dominion over the one crossing that allowed a direct journey to Riverrun.
Truly, he hadn't given it much thought when Jason Mallister of Seagard had notified him by raven. It had sounded mad, entirely removed from truth.
Word had reached them of the Lannister host being repelled, of a God, or a Devil that had protected the Riverlands... but, it was scarcely believable that such a thing was more than a fairy tale spread to calm the hearts of the small folk.
No more, now the truth was before him.
The haunting castle looked like a man burnt against a white sky, much of the stone had melted away, and the wind hissed and howled like the darker creatures of the night. A mass of stone lay in the river beside the bridge, unwavering against waves of rushing water that would have crushed the bones of men to sweep them away.
"By the Seven... it's as if I am looking at Harrenhal."
Robb quietly turned to his mother, curious about her murmur, "What?"
"Robb. This is a spitting image of what Aegon did to Harren Hoare so long ago." Catelyn Stark reaffirmed, gripping at her dress with maimed hands, her blue eyes wide and cracked lips quivering, "Luwin told me you know who was responsible for this?"
Robb could only nod, donning a face of stone.
Catelyn Stark had joined the Northern host not soon after they'd started marching, joined by her uncle Brynden 'Blackfish' Tully on their return from the Vale of Arryn. He'd been elated to hear she was safe, then soured to learn that his aunt, Lysa Arryn, would not be joining them.
"Am I to think he has declared allegiance to you?" Catelyn asked, holding his hand.
Robb nodded his head, but offered no words.
The chilling truth was that any man capable of such a thing had no allegiance to any but himself, he had made that evident in their last 'talk'. His only solace was that the 'man' seemed to hold no ill will towards House Stark and the North.
But it also made Robb realise one other thing, that the matter of the Iron Islands was true as well. The Lord of Winterfell quietly considered the consequences, his fiery hair fluttering to the breeze.
Finally, he decided upon doing what was necessary, "Did Lord Karstark have anything to say?"
Catelyn Stark rustled from her trance and shook her head, "Roose Bolton, Halys Hornwood and Rickard Karstark will march to Harrenhal as you ordered."
Robb nodded again.
With the Lannisters pushed back, the North was in a position of great strength, too great. It had made some of his bannermen a little too bold such that they had to be reminded of their purpose in the war.
He would hold council at Riverrun, and decide his next step there.
"Old Walder Frey finally went under, eh?" His musing was interrupted by hoarse words. Lean, weathered, and tall, Brynden Tully had never been a man to mince words or dance around his meaning... But, none could deny his merit.
The man was a veteran of nearly half a hundred battles.
"Good riddance." He spit on the grass, scoffing.
"Uncle!" Catelyn let out a small gasp, "Do not speak ill of the departed."
Brynden glanced at her with eyes of the Tully blue, then scratched his greyed hair, "The departed would've sold us out to Tywin Lannister as soon as he got the chance. There are men to be respected and Walder Frey is not among them."
Robb refrained from speaking. He was oblivious to the inner workings of the Riverlands, and had no basis to speak from. Fortunately, Brynden moved on quickly. He pointed a wind-chafed finger at the banners nailed on either side of the gate beyond them, snapping about in the wind..
A silver eagle etched on purple.
"That's House Mallister's. And I'd choose Jason Mallister over Walder Frey to watch my back."
"Jason Mallister." Catelyn echoed, eyes growing wet, "He was there when Eddard and I were sworn to one another. I remember the servants struggling to keep up with one gift after the other."
Robb cast a passing glance at her reminiscing before noting the truth.
Walder Frey would have exacted a heavy toll for passing.
Instead, the gates of the twins had been ripped apart entirely, and the few men standing guard only bowed and lowered their heads to him. They'd informed him that Jason Mallister, along with Seagard, would join him on his march to Riverrun.
Robb looked to the side, spotting Theon.
The young Greyjoy was taking in the fate of the Freys with cruel amusement written across his face and... Robb didn't have the heart to tell him what he now knew had become of the Iron Islands Theon was meant to inherit.
But he accepted that it was a necessity all the same.
They rode in silence, none ready to discuss what the sight before them truly meant.
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As they slowly but surely journeyed through the Riverlands, past hills and gushing streams and green forests and open plains, it became more and more evident to Robb that the rumours and songs that had been spreading among the small folk were less fairy tale and more truth.
The land seemed largely untouched by the flames of war.
While the Lannister host had been repelled, the few that had broken through had supposedly torched the Riverlands for months until they were hunted down and put to death.
That didn't seem the case at all from what he'd seen.
"We passed from the North, Robb." Catelyn spoke up as if she'd read his mind, riding beside him on a grey stallion, "It would be a fool's errand to send men here when they could burn the heart of the Riverlands."
They were passing by hills and mountains, through a thick forest with ancient trees and a whispering wind that beckoned them to rest after such a tiring march... but the North wasn't unused to hardship and struggle, and so they pushed forward, uncaring of the peace offered to them.
Robb calmly looked to his mother, "What would yo-"
They passed the treeline before he could finish his words and all need for them vanished in the blink of an eye. Steel was drawn, men shouted and ran up to form a wall of bodies around him while the few riders they had scrambled into a charge, diverging into the woods for a flanking.
Beyond the Stark men, Robb saw a patrol of knights in plate. Their bright armour shimmering in what little light the Sun gave them. They too broke into action, lowering spears and running into a line to charge down the hill.
That was until he saw their banners.
A sky blue falcon soaring against a white moon.
As he was taught by Maester Luwin. Those were the coat-of-arms of House Arryn, lords of the Vale.
"Halt." He spoke once, "Those are Valemen."
Brynden recognised them too. He nodded at Robb's words and rode ahead, shouting all the while, "Halt! Halt at once! They are not the enemy!"
Theon's inexperience shone through in that moment, and the youth kept moving here and there like a headless chicken, his face stricken with cold sweat and eyes wracked with nervousness.
Confusion descended on both camps in mere moments, and Robb looked to his surprised mother for an explanation.
Catelyn shook her head, just as confused, "I did not know. Lysa refus-... She said she would not risk it."
Then what were they doing here?
The Vale... there was no reason for them to be there.
Thankfully, the time for answers came as soon as the questions.
A lone knight broke off from the line facing them and rode down to meet them, decked in plate the colour of a clear summer sky with a navy cape fastened to his shoulders.
"Hail, friends! I see the Direwolf of House Stark!" He spoke with all the grace and confidence of a knight... Unfortunately, that didn't amount to much when Greatjon Umber stomped over to him and grabbed his steed by the reins.
The animal tried to struggle against him but failed against the giant, "You speak to Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell. Get down on your damn knees, boy!" He boomed as the poor man struggled to maintain balance.
"Lord Umber, I think he has been made aware."
Greatjon looked his way through steely eyes, then grinned toothily and took a step back, "As you wish, my lord."
"I apologise for my men, Lord Stark." The knight placed a hand over his breast and bowed his head.
Robb nodded, "Likewise."
The presence of the Vale brought an entirely new set of drastic possibilities. It changed the rough idea Robb had of what had been happening during their march.
"Might we accompany you to Riverrun?"
"We bring twenty thousand swords, boy." Greatjon Umber let out a booming laugh, "Your help isn't needed. Run back to ya mum."
Robb cast a wayward glance over his shoulder and saw men watching silent from the trees, walking out with their swords drawn and their axes raised. Then and there, as he saw their thirsty eyes, Robb caught a glimpse of just why they were thought of as savage.
"Lord Umber. Need I remind you of who serves who?"
The giant man glared at him with the ferocity of a beast. Then, to Robb's relief, he relented not a moment later and walked away with a big smile.
"We shall be glad of your company."
Catelyn gave him a reassuring nod.
"And you can tell us of what has happened during our journey."
"I would be delighted, Lord Stark."
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Hope you enjoyed.
Comment your thoughts and/or suggestions for the story.
Right, this chapter also had quite a bit of a timeskip. It's not explicitly stated, so I thought I'd point it out myself for those who get annoyed by that kind of thing.
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You can find 9 chapters ahead at patre0n.com/Bleap