It had been two months since Robb's Uncle had shown the wight. In that time, so much had happened around the realm. The lords of the Stormlands, Dorne, the Vale, and the Crownlands had all departed for their homelands the very next day, moving with purpose and speed that surprised even Robb. Even Benjen had departed a few days after he had arrived, taking the fastest ship available north. He knew of Robb's plans and promised to pass them on to the new Lord Commander.
Robb's father had sent a raven to Robb weeks ago. Bran had told him that it was time to begin manning the wall around the time Benjen made it to King's Landing. Now roughly ten thousand northmen had been assembled and dispersed along the Wall. Ten thousand wildlings had already been placed at the Wall, bringing the number of defenders over twenty thousand between nine castles; three for the Watch, three for the northmen, and three for the free folk.
The message that Robb had sent back to his father was long, but the instructions were needed. The rest of the armies of Westeros would bring ten thousand men each, an order that had been passed along to the other Lord Paramounts. Robb always wanted a system of riders set up along the King's Road and each of the roads that branched off from it, including the Ocean Road that ran from Casterly Rock to Highgarden. Lines of communication would be vital and Robb would rather be overly cautious.
Lord Commander Qhorin had sent a raven to Robb telling him that weapons of dragonglass were being made as fast as possible and dispensed to every castle. Spears, daggers, and arrows. Thankfully, ships were still coming in daily with plenty of the glossy black stone.
A few of Robb's council had also left the capital, meaning that the king and queen had been busy finding temporary replacements for them. Lord Selwyn Tarth, Brienne's father, had come to take over Lord Royce's position as Master of Laws. Ser Davos would take over as Master of Ships and keep his station as Commander of the Watch. Eyan Hawker would also take over as Master of War and keep his position as Commander of Robb's Household Guard. Lady Anya, Sam, Alec Reed, and the Queen of Thorns would remain in the city. Ser Loras would fill in for Brienne's during meetings as he and Ser Hobber would remain behind to care for the royal family. Robb had also invited three knights from Renly's former kingsguard; Ser Emmon Cuy, Ser Guyard Morrigen, and Ser Parmen Crane, to come to the capitol and retake their positions at Margaery's protectors, positions they had held during the War of the Five Kings.
Robb was set to leave the next day, bringing two thousand knights from the Crownlands north with him. The Blackfish would travel with him to Harrenhal, where he would wait for the Stormlands and Dorne to join him before continuing north.
The king was looking over reports in his office, messages from his commanders. Jaime, Yohn, and Edmure had met at the Twins and were currently making their way north. Garlan had just left for Harrenhal with two thousand knights, four thousand archers, and four thousand infantrymen, along with a long line of wagons filled with food. Willas had also promised another three thousand light lancers which would see wagons of food and supplies continue north during the war. With the King's Company having already moved north, Robb's good-brother knew how risky it would be to send wagons north without suitable protection against bandits.
The Baratheon brothers, Gendry and Edric, were waiting for the last of their men, but they had promised that they would be marching out by the end of the week. As for Prince Oberyn and the Dornish, they had reached Starfall, but it would still be roughly two or three weeks until they reached Harrenhal.
The final two messages that Robb had were from Jon and Lord Harlaw. The Ironborn had managed to rally three thousand warriors and had landed at Eagle's Roost. Now they were marching towards Castle Black where they would be given their assignments by Robb's father and Lord Commander Qhorin.
Jon and Daenerys had begun their flight north two days ago. Neither Jon nor Daenerys knew how long it would take them, but a raven had been sent to Castle Black telling Robb and Jon's father to expect them. Jon had also added that Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah had set sail with five hundred Unsullied towards the Wall.
Altogether, over sixty thousand men and two dragons were currently making their way north. Robb hoped it was enough.
Brienne knocked on the door of his office.
"Your grace, he's here."
Robb set all his reports to the side of his desk, covering them with some meaningless report about the current construction of what Margaery was working on with the volantine. When he was ready, he called back:
"Send him in."
The door opened to reveal a nervous septon dressed in ornate, flashy clothing. He wore a long, white cape with intricate designs etched in gold running along its edges. His robes were assorted colors of royal purple, light blue, bright gold, and creamy white.
"High Septon," Robb said curtly, gesturing towards the chair before him. "Please, sit. Would you like some wine?"
The septon, Terrence, if Robb remembered correctly, nodded quickly and sat down as Robb poured him a chalice. When the man had his drink, he seemed to relax a little. Robb could understand his awkwardness. Ever since the High Sparrow tried to kill Robb, the Faith and the Crown have not been on the best of terms.
"How do you like your new position?" Robb asked, making idle conversation.
"It's good." the man muttered, not making direct eye contact with the king.
The differences between Terrence and the High Sparrow were numerous and the similarities were next to none. Where the High Sparrow had a will of steel, Terrence's was made from a stalk of grass. The High Sparrow wore a simple burlap sack as clothing, Terrence's appearance was an overabundance of color. The High Sparrow would meet your eye and his stance on anything was like stone―immovable. Terrence, on the other hand, was completely incapable of meeting Robb's gaze and looked as if his own shadow would frighten him.
The only similarity between the two men was their faith, but Terrence was nothing like the fanatic the High Sparrow was.
"I'm glad to hear it," Robb said cheerfully, clasping his hands together. "Now, as you might have heard, I'm going away for a while."
Terrence choked on his wine. As he attempted to compose himself, Robb's smile melted and he leaned forward. When he spoke, there was a snap of command in his voice. It was unmistakable.
"Look at me septon," Robb ordered, his voice low and dangerous. When Terrence met his gaze, Robb saw nothing but utter fear in his eyes.
"You will keep your order in line," Robb warned. "If you do not and I hear that there were problems, then you and I shall have a very unpleasant conversation. Understood?"
"Y….yes, your grace." Terrence stammered out. The man looked close to pissing himself.
Robb forced the man to meet his gaze for a while longer, which made Terrence visibly shake before the northman finally broke it off and leaned back in his chair. The High Septon was suddenly not interested in his wine. He set the chalice back on the desk and seemed to recede into his mind.
"You may go." Robb snapped.
The man practically fled from the room. When he was gone, Robb reached towards his reports, intent on getting back to them. He had a lot of work to catch up on, and even though Tyrion had been a godsend to him, there was only so much work that he could do that was intended for Robb.
However, before Robb could begin his work, he felt someone else in the room.
"Come out," Robb ordered, gazing around the room as his right hand drifted towards Claw.
"There's no need for that, your grace, I assure you," Varys said, appearing from behind the hidden door that led to Maegor's tunnels.
"Varys," Robb growled. "I should have known."
The Spider folded his hands inside his robe. "If I may be so bold, I am rather surprised you managed to sense my presence."
"Aye, and your presence will soon be acquainted with the edge of my blade if you don't tell me why in the blazes you're in my office. You've been banished from Westeros. I gave the order." Robb said, rising from his desk, sword still in hand.
Varys didn't look worried in the slightest.
"Oh, I've come and gone when I've felt like I needed to," Varys replied, walking over to a nearby window that looked out over Blackwater Bay. "Word has reached me, finally, of the little project you and your council have been working on."
"It's no longer a secret and it's certainly no 'little project'," Robb said. "The Long Night is coming."
"Yes, it is," Varys agreed, "and you've managed to unite the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms behind you. I doubt there's been a king in the past forty years who's capable of such a feat."
"Rhaegar before he abducted my aunt." Robb offered.
Varys nodded. "Point taken."
"Why are you here, Varys?" Robb said, half-sliding Claw from its scabbard. The threat was clear.
"I've come to wish you luck," Varys said seriously. "For the past two months, my little birds have come from all across Westeros, singing their songs in my ear. After hearing about the wight and the announcement of the Long Night, I expected to hear an uproar from those loyal to the Seven who are One. I have heard nothing of the sort."
"If anyone had a problem with my plan, I would have heard about it by now," Robb replied.
"Yes, Reed is very good at what he does," Varys said with a vague wave of his hand. "Nevertheless, I have said what I came here to say."
As the eunuch moved towards the hidden door, Robb stopped him.
"Varys, stop," Robb said, taking a step towards him. "You cross a sea just to say good luck? You understand why I don't believe that."
Varys turned around.
"I do," he replied, "but I assure you that I have no other schemes in play. The Long Night has suspended the game for now. It is clear to me now that Westeros is in the best hands with you. I will interfere no more."
"I don't believe you," Robb said bluntly.
Varys shrugged. "You can believe what you like, Wolf King, but I have only ever wanted to do what was best for Westeros. It has taken me some time, but your Lord Hand was right. You, Robb Stark, are what is best for Westeros."
Before Robb could say another word, Varys disappeared into the tunnel and was gone in an instant, leaving Robb confused and stunned in the middle of his room.
Jaime Lannister
The former knight looked along the column of men marching by. A long line of gold-and-red armored men carrying spears, swords, shields. Other men, garbed in black leather breastplates and caps, carried longbows with quivers of arrows over their shoulders. Everywhere Jaime looked, he saw the rampant golden lion of Casterly Rock. smaller banners flew lesser beasts; unicorns, burning trees, charging boars, and other such things, but the Lion stood out among all else.
As did Jaime.
He wore gilded chainmail under a studded black breastplate. His red cape was lined with black fur. As always, his longsword and dagger hung from his war belt. Gone was the highly-polished golden armor and the roaring lion helm. Gone was the Golden Knight, the pride of House Lannister. The Kingslayer, the arrogance, pompous, sister-fucking man was gone.
Jaime Lannister, humbled and with a new purpose, had taken his place.
Addam Marbrand, Jaime's longtime friend, was next to him, looking like a true lord of the Westerlands. Despite all that Jaime had done, Addam was a good enough man that he saw Jaime for the man he was now, not who he was back then.
"You're brooding." Addam noticed. "Not something I've seen you do often."
"I'm surprised more men aren't," Jaime replied, shaking himself from his thoughts. "We're not walking into a meadow with flowers."
Addam only chuckled darkly.
Jaime and ten thousand westermen had met with Lord Royce and Lord Tully at the Twins, each of whom were leading ten thousand men of their own. Once the three forces had joined together, they began the long trek north. As of now, they were another day's march from Moat Cailin, which made Jaime sigh with relief. He didn't trust the Neck nor the simple-minded among his men. He couldn't afford to lose any men to lizard lions or drowning, not when they had a much darker enemy waiting for them at the Wall.
"How did Lord Tommen take being left behind?" Addam asked, making idle conversation.
"Not well." Jaime sighed.
Flashback
"Why?" Tommen shouted angrily. "I can fight!"
Jaime scowled as he collected his armor from the armory. He had left it to the maester to inform Tommen that he would be left behind to guard the Rock. Of course, Jaime should have foreseen the boy coming straight to him for an answer. After all, the king had placed Jaime in charge of the westernmen, which meant that it was Jaime's decision as to who went north and who didn't.
"You slew simple-minded peasants," Jaime replied curtly, sliding the chainmail over his torso before cinching his belt tightly around his waist. "This is not a war you want to be in, Tommen, and as it stands, you're simply not ready to fight in a real battle."
"But you taught me…."
"Yes, I did!" Jaime roared, rounding on the boy. "Since I am your mentor, I know better than you what you're capable of and what you're ready for. Facing a horde of the undead when all you've faced are peasants is not what you're ready for!"
"I slew a knight!"
"He underestimated you!" Jaime countered. "I promise you that a wight will not."
"What's the point of training me if you won't allow me to fight?" Tommen asked finally, tears threatening in his eyes.
Jaime grabbed him by the shoulder and lowered himself so that he was at eye level with the boy.
"I train you with the hope that you will never have to fight," he explained, "not so that you will seek out fights. The man who lives the longest is the man who fights the least."
"I don't understand," Tommen said, wiping his eyes.
It was moments like these that made Jaime remember just how young Tommen was. He had grown up a lot since the death of his mother and Joffrey, and a lot of that had to do with the fact that he was finally out of the shadow of his tyrant brother, but Tommen was still a boy who didn't understand the world like Jaime did.
"One day you will," Jaime promised. "Tommen, you are Tyrion's heir and the last male descendant of Tywin Lannister, your grandfather. You are simply too valuable to lose." The former knight stood up and began to put on his breastplate, continuing to speak as he did. "I, on the other hand, am not. Hence why I am going north and you are staying here."
"But…."
"No buts, Tommen," Jaime said, finishing with the buckles on his breastplate and grabbing his cloak. "You will soon be Lord of Casterly Rock and you must do what is in the best interest of our family. Understood?"
"Yes, Uncle," Tommen said sadly.
Jaime began to walk by the boy, but he stopped and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, bowing his head. He knew how much Tommen looked up to him and wanted to make both him and Tyrion proud.
"I'm proud of you, Tommen. I know that you'll be a much better man than I ever was." Jaime said quietly before leaving the room.
Flashback
"He'll understand when he's older." Jaime continued.
"Do you think he'll ever forgive you for leaving him behind?" Addam asked.
Jaime shook his head. "Whether he does or not is out of my hands. Faced with the same situation again, I wouldn't hesitate to do the same thing again. He needs to live, more so than myself and maybe even Tyrion."
"Master Lannister!" an outrider called, galloping up to the warrior.
"Report." Jaime snapped crisply.
"Lord Royce wishes to inform you that wildlings have been spotted just north of Moat Cailin." the man replied.
Jaime shared a look with Addam before looking back at the man.
"Does Lord Royce think they will attack us?"
The man hesitated before shaking his head. "He said to tell you that they are….shoveling snow."
"Shoveling snow?" Addam frowned.
Jaime snorted. "I understand. Thank you."
The outrider bowed in his saddle and left the two men behind. When he was gone, Addam turned towards his friend, still looking very confused.
"Is this some kind of code?" he asked.
Jaime shook his head. "Eddard Stark, you quick-thinking bastard," he muttered before answering his friend. "There are tens of thousands of wildlings on the Gift. Not all of them can man castles along the Wall. Lord Stark or the king must have sent some south to clear the King's Road of snow. This will speed up our travel."
Addam nodded. "Not a bad idea."
"The Stark's know how to fight in winter," Jaime grunted.
"Thank the gods for that." Addam agreed as the two westermen continued their march north.
Tyrion Lannister
"Master Reed, this is very irregular, even for you," Tyrion grumbled as he waddled into the room.
The dark sky that glowed and shimmered outside the window showed just how late it was, but the small group of individuals were anything but tired. Reed sat at the head of the table, wrapped in a dark cloak as he propped his head up with one hand, slightly reclining in his seat. The towering form of the Hound sat next to him, with the slim and beautiful Sansa Stark by his side. Eyan Hawker sat across from the Stark girl, waiting patiently as Tyrion took his seat across from the Hound, bringing the meeting of the strange group to order.
"I would not have summoned you if I did not think that you could help me," Reed grunted. "Two months ago, I discovered a plot against the crown. The conspirators plan to disguise their force as part of the King's Company to gain entrance to the Red Keep and take the queen hostage."
Tyrion leaned forward. His slight annoyance with the lateness and secrecy of the meeting was now replaced by a desire to see the traitors brought to justice before they can cause problems for the kingdom.
"Who are these men and how have you come across their plot?"
"Ser Osney Kettleblack, Lord Jon Lynderly, Hugh Blount, and Marit Trant make up the group. I found correspondences between them and the High Sparrow after the queen ordered me to look into the High Sparrow's allies," Reed explained. "There were more. Some minor lords and knightly houses in the Riverlands, but they seemed to have dropped the plot after the High Sparrow's death and cut off contact from Kettleblack and the others."
"You're still watching them, aren't you," Eyan said, crossing his arms. It wasn't a question.
"Of course," Reed said. "There were three other allies from the Reach, but Jaime Lannister and the Green Man took care of them."
"So the four men are all who are left," Tyrion said slowly. "Why are they going after the crown and how did the High Sparrow manage to convince them to fight for him?"
"Kettleblack, Blount, and Trant all are loyal to the Lannisters, specifically Cersei," Sansa answered. "Ser Osmund and Osfryd were sellswords who worked for her."
Tyrion almost smacked himself in the head. "Of course! Trant and Blount are related to Ser Meryn and Ser Boros."
"Who?" Eyan asked.
"Knights in Joffrey's kingsguard," the Hound grunted. "Shit knights and worse men. They were placed there because of their loyalty to Cersei and nothing else."
"You said the Kettleblacks are sellswords," Eyan said, speaking to Sansa. "Why is this one so loyal to Cersei?"
"He was also loyal to Petyr Baelish. Her severed Cersei, but he was paid by Littlefinger," Reed answered. "The same for Lynderly. He was one of Petyr's staunchest supporters in the Vale."
"That's how the High Sparrow managed to swap them to fight for him. They wanted vengeance for their loss of status and the old bastard was going to help them get it by killing the king," Tyrion sighed. "What else do you know, Reed?"
"They can muster about a thousand men," the spymaster said. "Not enough to storm the city, but enough to take over the Red Keep if they gained access to the castle. They plan to do this while disguised as members of the King's Company. They will be assembling their men at Ser Osney's manor just west of here where the Blackwater Rush splits."
"Why not kill them now?" the Hound growled. "We know where they are and what they're doing."
"Because we need proof that they're guilty," Reed said. "The High Sparrow attacking the king and the three lords kidnapping the Green Man was reason enough for their deaths. If we slaughter a thousand men out of blue then explain ourselves will not be a good look for the crown."
"You speak as if you already have a plan," Sansa commented. Tyrion smiled to himself. Although this was a serious meeting, the young woman was handling herself amazingly well.
"I do, my lady," Reed replied. "We know what they'll do and so we have time to counter it. They mean to cut the queen off from her best fighters before going after her. That includes Eyan, the kingsguard, Seaworth, and others. They mean to do this at night so that we won't see them coming, but it's the exact opposite."
"They won't see us coming," Eyan said, finishing the sentence.
"Exactly," Reed nodded. "Once we have the four men in chains, it'll be easy to round up the rest of their men. The city watch outnumbers them ten-to-one."
"Why not tell the queen all this?" Sansa asked.
"Because she has enough on her plate as it is," Reed answered. "The five of us wield enough power to see to it that this attempt is foiled and that the conspirators are brought to justice."
"Very well," Tyrion sighed. "I will ensure that Seaworth is informed of this as well. Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Reed."
"It's my job," the spymaster replied simply.