Battle of the Whispering Woods

How nice of the Young Wolf to let him know where he was. It saved him all the trouble of trying to find him. Jamie had long since realised the battle was lost, but he had decided that if he was going to lose then he was going to at least take the young Robb Stark with him.

The only problem with that was finding the Young Wolf in all this mess.

'He sure is eager to die.' The Kingslayer thought viciously, a smirk coming onto his face as he charged to meet Robb Stark's own charge. His blade held loosely in one hand down by his side, the muscles along his arm tensing as he prepared to cut the young boy down where he was.

Or at least that was the aim.

He only caught a glimpse of it, a blur of grey before he saw it in full view.

The Starks Direwolf leapt at him, it's fronts paws extended, claws gleaming in the moonlight and it's maw open revealing sharp and bloody fangs.

Then it landed, teeth digging into his horses neck and claws scratching along its front legs. Jamie let out a gasp as his horse lurched forward and it was only his quick reactions that saved his life as he jumped out of his saddle in time to avoid being crushed by his own steed.

Even so he landed with a thud, the wind rushing from his lungs as he looked up at the Moon.

The moon that was soon replaced by the sight of the growling Direwolf, it's fur matted with blood.

Rolling away quickly, he managed to avoid having his face ripped off. Gripping his blade tighter, Jamie rose to his feet and went to swing at the Direwolf only to be then struck by a horse. He felt more than heard his shoulder dislocating as he was flung along the floor before eventually landing on the muddy ground.

Groaning, Jamie lay there for a few moments, his head dizzy and his vision blurry.

Slowly and tentatively, he managed to push himself up by one arm and looked around for his blade. He found one, it wasn't his but it would have to do as he turned to see the battle once again raging around him.

However, he could see the Young Wolf quite clearly.

He stood there on his horse, head held high as he surveyed the battlefield. He gave the occasional order to intercept any Lannister men that attempted to flee, his sword dripping with blood as it rested by his side. As men died around him, the Young Wolf just sat there, calmly as if he was above it all.

Jamie let out a scowl come across his face.

It may cost him his life, but he would at least take the Young Wolf with him.

Even with one arm uselessly dangling by his side, it wasn't his sword arm, no that was fine. And so, he made short work of the men before him. Any soldier of the North that tried to stop him was quickly cut down. Occasionally a blade would sneak past his guard, but his armour would protect him allowing Jamie to spin round and cut them down.

The gap between him and the Young Wolf quickly closed down to nothing. There was a reason that he was one of the most gifted and dangerous swordsmen in Westeros.

But his presence had not gone unnoticed, the Stark boy having turned to view him with disinterest. Jamie would almost believe it if he hadn't seen the way the boy adjusted his grip on his weapon. Even so, it wouldn't save him from Jamie.

He rushed forwards quickly, a young Northmen rushing to intercept.

Jamie parried his blade to one side and swung his blade round cutting into the mans neck. "Brother!" Another Northman exclaimed, charging with a roar of anger towards Jamie who prepared himself.

As the man swung his blade down, Jamie moved round the downward swing and went to strike at the nobleman's exposed back. It would have been a clean cut if it hadn't been for another blade swinging round and intercepting the strike. He pushed against the blade with his one good hand and followed it along to see the Young Wolf holding the blade. Both their arms tensed in order to push against one another with all they could, Jamie having the advantage of pushing downwards.

He barely had time to think on that before he was tackled to the ground by the nobleman that he had just attempted to kill. The blade in his hand coming lose and bouncing away from him as the man raised his blade to bring it down.

"Eddard, I want him alive." The Young Wolf ordered, when the nobleman went to stab his blade down into him.

"But-"

"I need him alive, Eddard. You will have revenge for your brother later. Believe me, the Kingslayer will pay for his crime, but not yet." The Young Wolf affirmed and while disgruntled, Eddard did so, keeping his blade pointed at his throat.

"Well, it seems you've won this battle, boy." The Kingslayer noted humourlessly.

The Young Wolf just looked at him in disgust. "Eddard, knock the man unconscious, I have no interest in listening to the mans jests." That was the last thing he heard before the nobleman, Eddard struck him across the face with the handle of his blade.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Watching Eddard knock the Kingslayer unconscious was a satisfying to witness.

"Lord Stark, the victory is ours." He frowned slightly at being referred to as Lord Stark, but looked to Lord Mallister. It like all but admitting his father was dead.

"Aye, it is, but the night is not over yet." He responded, looking round over the battlefield. It was littered with the corpses of the dead, his ears filled with sound of moaning men as they slowly died, a fine feast for the crows.

"Even so, we have scored a great victory." Lord Mallister continued, the older man recognising the signs of guilt upon the young mans face. Commanding men in battle was hard, especially when one learned of the deaths that came with your orders. However, he couldn't allow the young commander to lose hope.

Men already whispered and looked at him differently.

The Kingslayer had called Lord Stark the Young Wolf and it was a title already spreading throughout the men. An army of this size needed a symbol to rally behind and they had one now, the Young Wolf had ridden to their aid and scored them their first major victory, even capturing the Kingslayer.

If the Young Wolf lost hope, then their campaign would be doomed.

"Give it to them, my Lord." Lord Mallister said. "Raising your sword into the air and say the words."

Robb looked at him with a frown before he gave a stiff nod.

All around men watched as the Young Wolf raised his blade into the air.

"Victory…is ours!"

And all around, men cheered to the heavens.