The War of Five Kings. One of the great wars in Westeros that changed the course of history. But, this is not the War of Five Kings you're used to. With Ned Stark's escape from Kings Landing and Robb being gifted with visions from the Old Gods, Westeros is about to be shaken to its core. = = = = = = = = = Just a quick notice, don’t expect a deus ex machina like Robb and House Stark where they instantly demolish all their enemies. That isn’t ASOIAF, it’s far more complex with so many moving pieces and hidden threats that it’s impossible for that to ever happen. Things will be better but in many ways things will be much worse for the Starks. That is the nature of ASOIAF. Also, magic will come into play, but it will reflect how George R. Martin has gradually introduced it over time. So at first it will be barely present but as we develop the story further, more and more fantasy elements that were hidden under the surface will come to light.
Willas Tyrell moved calmly through the halls of Highgarden his cane tapping against the ground as he made his way out into the open gardens. Passing by the numerous servants and guards that stood vigilant, he eventually came out onto a small open space with a fountain in the centre.
Beside it, sat comfortably at a small table under a canopy was his grandmother, Olenna.
"Grandmother." He greeted, one Olenna returned with a smile she reserved for her grandchildren. "How are you?"
"Don't start with that, Willas." Olenna rolled her eyes and Willas smiled as he pulled out a chair and sat down. "What news do you bring for me then?"
"Well, it seems our plan to seduce the Young Wolf is taking far longer than we anticipated." Olenna paused as she went to take a drink, though she quickly resumed her task. "His honour and other responsibilities seem to keep him distracted to act on the obvious desires he has for Margaery."
"Hmm, it seems Robb is more honourable than his father. At least that man was capable of fathering a bastard despite having a wife already." Olenna muttered with a frown.
She was displeased with this news, but she was also displeased with herself more than her granddaughter. Olenna had thought that Robb would act like any young man and the moment presented with a beautiful, young woman would take her. His Stark honour would then force her to take her as his wife.
As it seemed though, the Young Wolf was actually capable of resisting Margaery's charms.
"There is some good news however." Willas continued. "Both Margaery and Garlan do say that Robb Stark has been spending more time with Margaery, she even visiting his chambers nearly every night, though it is simply to talk."
"Yes, but my dear granddaughter needs to move quicker. All it takes is for a more favourable option to come along, one that all his lords approve of and our plans will be ruined." What went unsaid was that it was highly unlikely that a better option would come along compared to Margaery. But Olenna's main concern was the lords of the North, they were prideful, and the Starks had already married outside of the North once, they'd be very unwilling to accept another Stark marriage to a southern woman again.
Let alone the King.
"Well, it does seem that Margaery did think of that. It seems she has been spending a great deal of her time helping the injured soldiers of the North, including the lords." At Willas' words, Olenna paused once more as a smirk came across her face.
She had taught the girl well.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
News of the Lannister's triumph over Stannis Baratheon had already spread over Westeros and with it the morale of the Westerland lords which had slowly been eroded over time, seemed to be boosted. Their fear of the Young Wolf had been once again overtaken by their fear of Tywin Lannister and so they fought back fiercely.
As a result, taking Banefort had proved especially difficult for Robb and his army.
Despite outnumbering the defenders ten-to-one, they had fought back ferociously and for the first time since their invasion into the Westerlands, caused heavy casualties for the invaders.
"Overall, the losses come to near fifteen hundred, your grace. Though I suspect many of our severely injured will succumb to their wounds." Lord Bolton calmly recited as he rode beside Robb as they trotted through the bloody streets of the seat of House Banefort. All around injured men groaned out in pain as physicians moved round to provide them aid.
"It was a costly victory." Robb noted, his eyes moving to watch as some of his men worked to lift the dead corpses onto wagons. They'd be loaded out and put onto large pyres so that on the morrow they could be burned. There was no time to dig a mass grave large enough for all the dead so burning was the simplest and the only way of disposing the bodies with some measure of dignity and pride.
"Indeed, your grace." Lord Bolton agreed. "I would suggest we hold off our plans to besiege Lannisport. If the last few days have been an indicator, it is that Tywin Lannister's victory at Kings Landing has revitalised the defenders. If we are not careful, we may find ourselves attacked from behind by the Old Lion."
Robb shook his head. "Ser Garlan has already informed me that the remaining fifty thousand men of the Reach will be standing guard along the Mander to keep Tywin Lannister at bay. If the Old Lion does attack he will have to come North and with Harrenhall now under our control and with Lord Blackwood overseeing the defences then I am sure we can keep him occupied long enough for us to turn and meet him."
"Even so, the promised Reach reinforcements have not yet arrived, nor have they been spotted coming north to our aid at all." Beside Robb, Garlan tensed up in anger at the slight insult dealt to him and his people.
However, seeing this Robb gave a slight look to Garlan that kept the knight of the Reach silent despite his displeasure and anger. "You speak out of turn, Lord Bolton. The Reach have already reinforced our army with five thousand men and plenty of food."
Food that was being distributed all across the Riverlands, up to Lord Mallister's forces at Moat Cailin and all over the newly conquered lands of the Westerlands. When the food had arrived, Robb had made sure to give plenty to the smallfolk of the Westerlands just as his army received a large portion as well.
The people loved him for it and that was Robb's intentions.
Even so, he doubted it would be possible without Edmure's logistical expertise. The man was a subpar commander, but the man's new position of overseeing the supply lines were providing them with the necessary supplies had meant that Robb's army and growing kingdom was never without food.
'I will have to reward uncle for his work on that front. As important as winning battles are, making sure an army is well-provisioned is just as, if not more important.'
Beside him, Lord Bolton bowed. "Forgive me, your grace. I spoke out of turn. I did not mean to doubt the Reach's integrity I am simply pointing out the fact that as we are now, we will be unable to safely take Lannisport as we originally planned. The losses suffered at the Battle of Tumbler's Fall has meant we are now stretched thin."
As much as Robb hated to admit it, he could not deny that Lord Bolton was correct. They were stretching themselves thin. He had hoped with reinforcements from Lord Bracken that Lord Mallister would have been able to take Moat Cailin, but the fortress was living up to its reputation.
The castle had kept the Andal invasion at bay and had never been conquered. Even in its ruined state, the stronghold continued to keep any force from the south from passing.
Because of that, Robb was now suffering from a lack of troops and he couldn't take troops from anywhere else without leaving his rear dangerous exposed. But he also couldn't afford to halt his Westerland campaign for too long. While Robb had focused his attention on securing the northern half of the Westerlands, the south had fully secured itself and each castle had nearly a thousand men defending each.
Admittedly most were fresh recruits, but those recruits would become more dangerous and more disciplined with each passing day. Eventually it would be impossible to take the southern half of the Westerlands without a full army and it would take years. Even now Robb couldn't see a full conquest being done with the men had in a time span of less than at least a year.
But he couldn't afford to take so long to secure that part of the Westerlands as the main targets of Lannisport and Casterly Rock would continue to grow stronger and more secure till it would be impossible to take.
And all the while that happened, Robb would have to keep an eye on Tywin Lannister who would be waiting for that one moment to strike while replenishing the missing ranks of his army.
No, Robb's greatest advantage was speed and right now, things were looking like they were about to get more difficult unless the Reach arrived. He just hoped that nothing bad happened until that time arrived.
"Your grace," Robb turned to see Garlan looking at him firmly. "I promise you that my father and the Reach army will be here as promised."
"I do not doubt it, Ser Garlan." Robb responded. 'I just hope they arrive in time.'
As his mind thought on this, the group continued to make their way towards the Keep.
"Hold him steady!" A woman's voice ordered, and Robb found his gaze turning to see a young woman, covered in blood ordering a group of soldiers to hold a struggling man down. His leg wound looked grievous and Robb wasn't blind, he knew that the leg was beyond saving.
But his gaze was not focused on the leg, but on the woman treating the soldier. She was a pretty girl, Robb could admit that, yet not the prettiest girl he had seen. No, that honour went to another woman entirely.
However, despite that he found it difficult to take his gaze off her as he continued to make his way up to the Keep. 'So, she is the one you showed me. The one who I lost a kingdom for. The reason you advised me not to go to the Crag.' And as he looked upon her, Robb found that he could not understand why he did so. 'Does love truly make us act like such fools?'
Turning away, Robb continued to move on, never once looking back.