How does someone take an impregnable castle? I didn't know, but apparently, Lord Stannis Baratheon did. Well he's no longer 'lord', he goes by king now.
The famed Storm's End, the castle that never once had fallen to a siege ever since its construction was now in Stannis' hands.
With the castle taken, Renly must have been having some issues of his own. Doubt is an infection that will deplete his army day by day, the storm lords will rethink where their loyalties lie, the reacher lords will drink from the poisoned chalice as well. After all, what king lets his castle be taken?
Given how dramatic Westeros tends to be, I can see a new title falling on Renly's lap. Probably something about a harmless storm, or perhaps a stag without fighting spirit?
Either way, he'll be compared to Robert and Stannis in a unflattering way. 'Robert never lost his castle' or 'Stannis held Storm's End with nothing but his sheer force of will'.
My arms were burning in the pleasant sensation of muscles working to its limits. My breathing was laborious, but I knew I could do one more set.
What would Renly do? Unlike my brother, him and Stannis are claiming the Iron Throne. They both claim the Seven Kingdoms, who would follow a weak king?
Tywin on behalf of King Joffrey got his ass kicked in the Riverlands and now there are four kings in the Realm.
Stannis crowned himself with a legendary castle falling to him.
Renly… well I wouldn't want to be on his camp right now. Was Lady Stark in there?
If she was, Renly could take her hostage and demand Robb's army to confront Stannis. It would be a stupid and shortsighted move on Renly's part and I'm sure many of his lords would abandon him over it, but he could take that option depending on how desperate he was.
And how desperate was he? Well, with Dragonstone promising high prices for grain it isn't hard to deduce what Stannis is planning.
A march to King's Landing.
Kind of brilliant in it's simplicity. Even a novice strategist like myself can understand what he's doing. It was a quintessential military strike.
He was forcing Renly to choose.
Stannis was asking a simple question: Will you go to lay siege to recover Storm's End? Or will you try to take King's Landing before?
Yup, Stannis is diabolical, I seriously didn't want him as my enemy.
Go and try to retake Storm's End, the same castle Stannis held for over a year with little to no external food? An incredibly hard task and prone to failure.
Or go and try to take King's Landing, grinding your forces against the Lannisters manning the city walls? Stannis could appear from the rear and destroy Renly's exhausted and demoralized army and then take King's Landing from a depleted garrison himself.
There was the third option, but from my experience, I knew how much of a bad choice it was.
Renly could take the coward's way out and separate his forces. The first part laying siege to Storm's End, the second part marching to King's Landing.
If I were in Renly's shoes… well the choice was clear for me, but thank the gods I wasn't him.
I finished my morning exercises and went back to clean myself. Dawn was about half and hour away.
Nightmares were plaguing my nights. People crying, screaming… begging for mercy.
"Ser, please," a mother in her knees said.
"I'll kill you. You hear me, I'll kill you!" a man held on the ground shouted.
"No, please don't—"
I slapped my cheek to stop the flood of memories.
Fucking Amory Lorch.
I should've known shit like this would happen. I should've known breaking into someone's mind wouldn't be free.
The last person whose mind I read was Urswyck, A monster similar to Lorch. That's when I noticed some changes in my… worldview I guess.
My fullmetal halberd was gleaming in torchlight when I pulled on Ghost's mental string. He was happily munching a deer he tracked. Around eight or so miles away.
Fuck, I should've been a normal boy and picked up a sword.
It would be way more convenient than my cumbersome halberd. I could carry it everywhere without arousing suspicion too.
Alas it was too late (and halberds are a better fit for me) to pick up a sword and 'bond' with it.
I could practice longer and grew less tired, by now it was a very noticeable change compared to before marching south of the Neck. I still couldn't understand exactly why, but the changes were there.
Aside from making me a stamina beast, the halberd had another property I found the first time I read Amory's mind. Or rather when I couldn't break into his mind after my first success.
I reached my room and left my halberd resting against the wall.
"Fuck," I groaned rubbing my eyes. "Why can't magic be easy to understand?"
After my first success cracking into Amory and Urswyck ugly minds, I took a long rest and a long night on the hunt with Ghost. The next day I was so sure of my success that when I utterly failed I felt incredibly dumb.
Then I retraced my steps and came back the next day with my halberd in hand. And wouldn't you know it? Breaking into minds was possible once again.
"Are you some kind of foci?" I asked the gleaming weapon, for some reason it gave me the impression it was mocking me.
Predictably, the halberd didn't answer.
A sword or a fucking dagger would have been better.
After I found out, I desperately hoped it wasn't the halberd per se, but the steel. 'Perhaps this is a world with magical properties with the metals?' was my line of thought. Sadly it was not to be.
Then I thought of practicing with a sword every morning, I gave up after the first two days. My halberd was with me for years, I couldn't expect to 'bond' with another weapon in mere weeks.
My most desperate attempt was to try sticks, I even got a weirwood one. It obviously didn't work.
So I went back to the basics. Lord Reed's little book said that 'magic is in the blood', the Warg Kings became stronger and more dangerous as generations passed. Petty kings became a big thorn on the side of the Starks of old in a couple of generations.
So, perhaps my mother was someone of magical blood? Looking at the rumours of Father's love affair, there was Lady Ashara Dayne as the primary suspect.
The Daynes are one of the most ancestral noble houses in Westeros, they have Dawn, their ancestral sword, that I, and many others, suspect has some magical origins or properties. They have the tradition of bestowing Dawn to a worthy knight member of the house and together with it came the title of "Sword of the Morning". Its last wielder was Arthur Dayne. "The finest knight I ever saw," according to Father.
So, the Daynes have a tradition of giving a magical sword to those 'worthy' of wielding it. I 'bonded' with my halberd through hard work, sweat and blood. It kind of fits.
The issue was, that it didn't fit with Father's character and the timeline is all sorts of messed up to make sense.
The older guards in Winterfell told me the whispers when I gave them enough ale. Lady Ashara died shortly after the Robert's Rebellion. After Father killed her brother in combat and returned Dawn to the Daynes, she threw herself into the sea.
Bad tongues whispered she did it because she couldn't endure losing her brother and having her son stolen from her in quick succession by her once lover Eddard Stark.
It didn't make sense. Father was in Starfall, if Lady Ashara didn't want her child to leave, there was nothing he could have done. So I discarded that possibility years ago.
But now…
I clicked my tongue.
The lack of sleep is getting to me.
It's just as possible that Father was the only parent of magical blood I have. It just so happens that I've been searching for magic ever since that day I swung Ice back at Winterfell.
Besides, I'm certain Robb has had wolf dreams of his own. I left Lord Reed's book with him back when we separated, by now he must be able to skinchange into Grey Wind.
I got up the bed and started undressing. The sweat was going to become uncomfortable if I didn't take a bath.
The water was cold, just as my hyperactive sleepless mind needed.
Once morning came I had another kind of practice still. I was trying to skinchange into more animals at will. With my halberd in hand was possible for me, so of course I had to practice without it.
I relaxed my muscles under the water and exhaled slowly.
Ravens had arrived yesterday. Lord Edmure Tully was to take Harrenhal. Once he does, we'll move on to the next stage of the war. Most likely though, I'll be moving faster.
###
Edmure Tully donned his armor and stepped out of his tent at dawn.
His host joined the Northerners in Harrenhal yesterday's afternoon and planned the assault the same night.
"Your shield, my lord," Lyman Darry, his new squire, said.
"I'm sure you know your duties well, Lyman" Edmure asked more than said.
"I do, my lord. Make sure our archers have enough arrows, keep by your side, and if you move forward, then I stay with Ser Robin Ryger on the back."
"Good lad," Edmure said patting his squire on the back. "Now, put on your helm, we'll retake Harrenhal today."
"Aye!" The boy ran off to get their horses.
The Darrys were a contentious topic for his father. They had taken the Targaryen side back in Robert's Rebellion and neither side ever forgot.
He had an opportunity with Lyman and Edmure wasn't going to let that chance escape him.
The army laying siege to Harrenhal numbered twenty five thousand in total. Excessive, in Edmure's opinion, but they had to make a show of strength to force the realm to hear their message loud and clear: King Robb does not tolerate invaders.
He and his nine thousand Riverlanders were to storm two northernmost gates at the same time the Northerners were assaulting from the opposite side with their siege towers.
It was all to spread thin the defenders and make their assault successful. It didn't matter if Northerners or Riverlanders entered the castle first, all that mattered was to retake Harrenhal. However, Edmure and every Riverlander with him knew they had to be inside the castle first, these were their lands and they had the responsibility to deal with the invaders themselves.
"Prepare shields!" Edmure ordered his men.
Karyl Vance, Jonos Bracken, Brynden Blackwood and Beric Dondarrion were by his side, all fully armored and ready for the assault.
Sunlight was on them and after ensuring the first lines were in order, The Lord Paramount of the Trident ordered the storming of Harrenhal. "Sound the trumpets."
Warhorns replied in an instant and, for a heartbeat that felt like eternity, Edmure felt weightless.
The first wave of men moved, the sound of boots hitting the ground returned his weight to him. Siege rams in front covered with archer fire from his ranks.
"There will be no Lannister's left in Harrenhal by noon," Lord Blackwood said, his voice garbled under his helm.
The rams arrived at the gates and started pounding. The few defenders on the walls were franticly shooting arrows and throwing rocks.
His father used to say how in war there were times when one should be daring and times when one should be patient.
"Lord Jonos," Edmure said. "I know we wanted to wait an hour or so before trying to use ropes and hooks, but…"
"Aye, they have less defenders than expected. I'll get my men ready."
In short, riders left to the west.
A man fell from the battlements, an arrow struck on his neck. The assault continued, men were rotated and broken shields were replaced. It was then the clear sound of a trumpet reached his ears.
"Get the hooks ready!" Edmure said. "It is time we show the Lannisters the famed Riverlander hospitality."
"Aye!"
"Lyman." Edmure turned to face his squire. "Go to Ser Robin."
The boy looked ready to defy him, but in the end gave him a reluctant nod.
"Forward!" Edmure ordered. "Storm the walls!"
He dismounted and walked forward to the limit of arrow range. The Bracken men were fighting their way to the gate tower, the chaos should be enough for his men to get to the walls.
The first wave of storming went straight for the section of the wall controlled by the Brackens. Blackwood elites were the first ones to hook ropes and climb. Below them Lord Brynden was pushing his men forward. It was a miracle no one slipped and fell, but perhaps the centuries old rivalry between the noble houses wouldn't let them die in such an embarrassing way.
Next, Karyl Vance got his men to the wider gap in the wall. One at a time, more and more of his soldiers got up the wall and joined the assault for the gate tower.
It took a lot of effort and blood, but in the end, the Riverlanders secured their position in the wall.
Edmure understood his task. "To me! Soldiers to me!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.
He raised his shield and drew his sword. Before running head first into battle, he prayed to the Warrior for strength, just like his father taught him.
"To the gate!" Lord Edmure Tully roared his command at the head of his troops.
On the short distance, he saw the bodies of the men who died smashing themselves on the walls. My men, my people.
"Riverrun!" he hollered and ran the last yards to the gates.
"Riverrun!" his soldiers shouted back.
The men manning the ram left it and joined his charge, all echoing "Riverrun".
The portcullis was raised about four feet off the ground when men in his vanguard got below it and helped pushing the enormous spikes up. And with that, the first gate was taken.
Inside, Edmure saw murder holes all around him, from above and at eye level, only from two, he saw arrows shooting at them.
They didn't stop, however, as the second gate was already wide open.
Beric rushed past him, following him were Thoros the red priest and Harwin.
Past the door, it was chaos. Screams, blood and the clanking of steel on steel.
Edmure ran into the fray. With a swing of his sword disarmed a man, and with a shield bash, broke his nose.
Left and right the Riverlanders overwhelmed the lions, Edmure didn't even had to raise his sword again.
They had done it. They were inside the walls.
Now for the next part.
"Horses!". He stopped the cheering and celebrating. "Bring me horses, we ride to secure the castle walls to the south!"
"Aye, my lord."
Edmure left Lords Vance and Blackwood to secure the other gates on his side. He would've left Jonos Bracken as well, but the man was feral for Lannister blood.
And so, with Beric, Jonos and Daven Lychester by his side, he rode with five hundred men to help the Northerners on their assault. And kill lions, as Lord Bracken demanded.
They made short work of the defenders that got in their way. By the time they reached the gates being assaulted, they had crushed three groups of lions.
The fight was bitter on the walls. Edmure saw smoke from beyond the walls and men pouring out of a siege tower paying dearly with blood for every inch taken.
"To the gate tower!" He raised his sword and spurred his mount.
The lions hastily formed ranks to stop them, but they didn't have the numbers to fully close the passage, so Edmure flanked them.
He swung his sword with fury. Ser Desmond, the master-at-arms at Riverrun, harshly told him his name would never be mentioned along men like Arthur Dayne or Gerold Hightower.
Edmure didn't care.
He hit a man on his pauldron, the thin steel bent under his strength. Edmure sent the man to the ground with a kick to the chest.
It distracted him from his left side, however, as the soldier on that side plunged his spear on his horse.
With one leg free he was able to get off before being crushed. Something hit him behind his shoulder, Edmure turned raising his shield only to find the same spearman that killed his horse before him.
With his shield high he rushed forward and with a brutal swing of his sword, the man lost an arm.
It gave him enough time to look around, the Lannisters were being culled down, his knights were slowly forming a perimeter and moving into the gate tower.
"Milord, are you hurt?" a Riverrun men-at-arms asked him from his horse.
"Nay, only my horse."
The man dismounted and got himself between the Lannister men and him.
Edmure suppressed a sigh, but before he could order his guard to assault the tower, a groan made him turn his gaze.
There on the ground the spearman was bleeding out. I should let him bleed, just like the Lannisters bleed my people dry. Edmure gave him the gift of mercy instead. You should thank the gods I'm not a Lannister.
"Clegane!" someone roared from inside the gate tower.
The Lord Paramount of the Trident spun on his heels to the commotion. "Don't let Lannisters get past you."
"Aye, milord."
Past the doors to the tower, Jonos Bracken was duelling a giant knight in the heaviest set of armor Edmure had ever seen. A man cut in half at his feet.
"Die Clegane!" Jonos rushed to the Mountain's armed side with his shield held high.
Clegane had his sword compromised, someone had dodged his strike and it was embedded on the stone floor. However before Jonos could react, the giant knight abandoned his sword and with an agility that betrayed his size, tackled Jonos with his shoulder.
Jonos flew through the air and crumpled on the ground. The Mountain not far behind picking up his sword.
"Clegane!" Edmure called while running to block the giant of a knight from killing his bannerman.
Everyone else was in the midst of a bloody battle, there was no one else but him to stop the monstrous knight from killing the Bracken lord.
It was not the whole reason, Edmure had heard his smallfolk's stories. He had heard of the sadism, savagery and inhuman deeds the knight in front of him had committed. Of castles burnt, boys hunted for sport and girls raped to madness. My people.
Edmure's run ended right before Clegane's range, but he had to bend back to avoid the greatsword. Immediately, Edmure hit Clegane's knee with all he had and returned to a defensive position.
Both knights started circling each other, the Mountain impervious to the blow.
Edmure moved in and out of Clegane's range, daring him to attack.
The Mountain swung his sword, but where other men saw death, Edmure saw an opening. Ser Desmond may have been right about him, but Edmure knew how strong a Tully was.
He stepped forward, put his weight on his right leg. "Clegane!" Edmure shouted and bashed the greatsword with his shield.
His shield shattered, but at the same time the Mountain's sword went wide. There.
The Lord of Riverrun gathered all his strength in a single swing of his sword, and struck the knee of his opponent. "Die!"
The next thing he knew, he was flying in the air. Air left his lungs when he landed. Fuck.
His body rolled to the left before he could regain his senses. A sword broke the stone in the place where his head used to be. Stand you fool!
He finished his roll and got to his feet in a smooth motion, his sword ready to parry or block the Mountain's strikes.
It wasn't necessary, Lord Beric was fighting the Mountain already.
It took Edmure a heartbeat to decide chivalry was not something afforded to men like the Mountain and stepped forward.
"Clegane!" he roared throwing away the last of his broken shield.
His distraction was enough for Beric to recover his stance. Edmure closed the distance to the Mountain, prodding in and out of the monstrous knight's range.
The Mountain lost his patience and swung his sword in his direction with a roar. Edmure took a step back and with two hands on his sword was able to deflect the attack.
One parry, and his arms almost fell out of their sockets.
Beric didn't lost his chance and cut the Mountain's shield hand. One of the shield straps was cut, but sadly, it was superficial damage at best.
The mortal dance continued for what felt like hours. One step forward to bait the Mountain, two steps back to not get crushed by his greatsword.
Beric nor him were able to land a decisive blow. The Mountain was able to keep moving back and forth between the two opponents, tireless.
With ragged breath and arms burning in exertion, Edmure's legs weren't able to react when a horizontal blow came his way. His body reacted before he could think. His tired legs unable to move, dropped him to the ground instead, his overworked arms moved his sword to shield him.
His sword bent and his boots skidded back, but he was still whole.
On the other side, Beric attacked with reckless abandon.
It was then, Edmure saw his chance. "Die!" He swung his bent sword to the Mountain's wrist.
With a clang, the greatsword fell. Edmure's gamble had paid off.
From the corner of his eye, Beric was able to slip past the Mountain's guard and stabbed him behind the knee.
However, Clegane was a beast and before Edmure could react, a mailed fist stole the air from him and pushed him back. His sword nowhere to be seen.
Beric pressed the attack, but this time, the Mountain was prepared.
He stunned the young lord with a shield bash and before he could recover, buried Edmure's sword behind his pauldron.
The Lord of the Trident summoned the last of his strength and swung Clegane's greatsword with a roar.
Gregor Clegane, ravager of the Riverlands, fell with his helm caved.
Edmure fell to his knees. Each breath felt like a stab on his side.
He raised his gaze to look over the lightning lord. "I'd be dead without you my friend."
Around him the battle continued, his men slowly withering down the lions. Edmure offered a short prayer for his friend before standing up.
Before long, the fight over the gate tower ended and Harwin was by his side.
"M'lord," the northman greeted. "Have you seen Lord Beric?"
"We fought the Mountain together." He paused to pat the northman's shoulder. "He fought bravely."
Harwin's eyes grew wide and ran calling for Thoros. It struck him as odd, but they had known Beric for a while so he didn't take offence.
I need a maester for Lord Bracken, and me.
Limping outside the tower, he found a messenger. Thoros ran past him, to where Beric was. Edmure thought it was proper to offer them his condolences, so he followed.
The priest was on the floor next to Beric, whispering something. Praying, most like. He had pulled the sword out of the knight, Harwin and an archer were by the side.
Edmure inhaled slowly and was limping his way to the priest, when something stopped him cold.
Beric Dondarrion gasped into life.
###
A/N: So Jon's part has a lot of exposition and a few clues for the future, hopefully it wasn't too heavy.
Btw, I don't know why, but my dumb ass didn't wrote the armies' numbers since the Green Fork in my notes, had to check out from the beginning to keep things consistent. If you are writing a fic with armies clashing, don't be like me and write your numbers on a separate document as you go.
You can give me tips: p.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m / yorud, only if you want and can.
Anyway, give me your comments! (☛´∀｀*)☛