Game of Thrones: The Stark Shard

Author's Note:

This chapter kicked me in the nuts, but I hope I showed how useful it is to have the Green Men aiding in battle. Also, this chapter will be the last one in the Riverlands for a while, as I don't want to clutter my fic with only this kingdom. The next chapter will be Kingslanding Interlude.

Edmure Tullys. 

Mummers Ford.

It had been more than three weeks since we had left Riverrun, and we finally reached the castle. Thanks to the green men, we had been able to approach secretly, and I could not thank them enough for that.

Lord Sylvyrn had been of so much help; he and his people, with their warg abilities, were the best damn scouts I could imagine. Being able to control and see through the wildlife was a life changer. Still, even that was nothing compared to being able to control nature. Even after seeing them change the terrain many times, I still could not believe my eyes.

But even with all of these advantages, I was nervous about attacking Jaime's host. He was a renowned soldier, one of the best the Seven Kingdoms had to offer. While he was untested—since all of the battles he had fought, he had just won by overwhelming our numbers or just by the threat of his father and his rabid dogs—so was I. Besides the defense of Riverrun, I had not participated in any battle of this size, let alone importance.

Either way, I could not deny the feeling it gave me. I was nervous, afraid, but most of all, excited. The Lannisters had burned the Riverlands for nothing more than an insult to their name, and if what my good brother had found was true—which I had all the reasons to believe—they did it for naught. If Joffrey Baratheon was a bastard and worst of all, the result of a union between the Kingslayer and the queen, the realm would not have accepted him as a ruler.

This war was bound to happen either now or in ten years, and while the Lannisters got to the Riverlands unimpeded, it was time to root them out of my lands. According to the ravens, the few green men that stayed in Riverrun said my father's health had been improving drastically the last couple of days, and while it was true that he wasn't long for this world because of his age, at least he had some more years to live.

This conflict taught me the importance of vigilance and being ready for anything, and it showed me that I was not ready to lead the Riverlands. For that reason alone, if I managed to keep my life after this battle, I vowed to study under my father to become the best lord that I could be. The Riverlands deserved the best, and with Robb's help, I was sure we could rise to new heights.

Standing up from my mattress inside the main tent some miles away from the Lannister host, I prepared myself to do what I must. The news of Robb's victory against Tywin was already moving through the lands, and the morale of my soldiers soared fast after hearing that. While he was only the King of the North at this moment, I was sure that was going to change in the near future. The lords of the Riverlands did not want Joffrey as a king, nor anyone whose name wasn't Stark.

I had already heard about some of the lords whispering amongst themselves that they would bend the knee when we reunited with him. He had earned their respect, and with that victory, he showed that he was someone worth following.

Smiling at that thought, I prepared myself, calling for my squire to help me don my armor. Lance had been a foot soldier during the siege of Riverrun, having gone against the wishes of his family just to help his liege lords during the lowest point of our family. He was born of some merchant and a servant, and he left behind his—while not rich—at least tranquil life to help our family. He showed strength and honor while doing so; because of that, I decided that he would become my squire. He deserved it, and I would make sure to teach him everything I could before my passing.

"You called for me, my lord?" Lance asked; only his head could be seen through the curtains.

"Yes, Lance. I need help donning my armor," I replied, finishing changing my tunic.

"At once, my lord," he said while going back to the armory.

While I waited for him, I thought back to the strategy we would use during this battle. While Mummers Ford was a strategic location, the keep by itself wasn't big enough for his host. For that reason, they took it and set camp outside. Our main focus would be to bait them to attack us, where the green men would work their magic to defeat the cavalry, leaving only the infantry intact. My host was already greatly outnumbering Jaime's, and we had the surprise on our side.

Ever since Lord Sylvyrn and his companions connected themselves to the weirwood of Pinkmaiden, he had been able to call fog to hide our traces. The land of Mummers Ford and its surroundings was wet and soft thanks to the rain they had called, so we had at least that advantage.

Before I could continue, Lance came back carrying my armor and stepped inside my tent.

"My lord, let me help you," he said and started doing so.

"Are you ready for today, lad?" I asked.

Lance nodded with a dumb smile on his face and a frown, slapping the back of his head softly while I chided him. "War is no game, lad. I want you to be alert all the time. I didn't make you my squire for you to die in the first open battle."

"My apologies, my lord," Lance said while lowering his head and finishing helping me. The weight of my armor gave me a weird feeling of courage that wasn't there before, and I nodded to myself.

"It's time to face the Lannisters, lad. Go get ready and meet me in the war tent," I said authoritatively, forcing my doubts to the back of my mind. There was no time to hesitate right now; I just needed to make the Lannisters pay for their sins and grab as many hostages as I could while keeping my men alive, something easier said than done but I would give it my best.

Nodding at the soldiers preparing their utilities one last time before the battle, I tried to gauge their morale and spirits, and I was happy with what I saw. Everyone I could see was trembling with emotion; some were scared, of course, but even they were anxious to shed some golden cunt blood. After everything they had done to our lands, I could understand it, and to be honest, I was feeling the same.

Arriving at the tent, I nodded at the guards located at the entrance before joining the rest of the lords. Lord Vance, Lord Mallister, and Lord Blackwood were already inside, talking in hushed voices.

"My lords," I greeted them, "Everything is ready for today's battle?"

The lords nodded with bloodthirsty smiles on their faces, and I could feel a tug on my lips at that. We were ready; no amount of planning would improve what we had already done, so we just needed to wait.

"Edmure, what about our friends from the Isle of Faces?" asked Jason with a frown. "I expected them to be here already."

Sighing, I replied, "Lord Sylvyrn and Lady Elyndra stayed in Pinkmaiden along with the most powerful warg, since they are at their strongest there. The rest will follow my orders, at least during this battle."

Jason Mallister nodded in agreement. "Even if what they can do scares me and I know it will be difficult to normalize it with the smallfolk, I can't deny that having them on our side lifts my spirits."

Lord Vance shook his head with a smirk. "I can't wait to see the smirk on Jaime's face disappear when he sees what they are capable of."

"The cunt deserves it," Tytos Blackwood grunted, "but I'm afraid that after this we will have extra problems."

I frowned at hearing that. "What do you mean, Ser Tytos?"

"What do you think the vipers of King's Landing will do after their help gets annihilated?" he scoffed. "My family has a history with the royal family, and I'm sure they will twist the truth to their gain. Mark my words, lad. The Faith will be against King Robb after the Lannister defeat."

Lord Mallister nodded with a grim face. "Aye, that's true. But there is one thing you are forgetting, Tytos."

Ser Blackwood lifted his eyebrow. "Oh? What can the Young Wolf do against the smallfolk without looking like a tyrant?"

Jason snorted. "He does not need to do anything. You need to remember that while his gifts can bring death to the lands, he can also help the people with them. I know the lad, and he is as honorable as his father, with the ruthlessness of the Starks of old. I'm sure he can manage to deal with it before the first crops start feeding the smallfolk."

Ser Tytos nodded. "I still haven't seen his magical fertilizer at work, but if he manages to do the same in the Riverlands as he did in the North, I'm sure he can gain the trust of the smallfolk. As for the lords, only the most zealous of them might be a problem."

Lord Vance continued with his usual blunt tone. "Aye, but for the rest of us, I'm sure he already won the respect he needed for us to bend the knee. I'm already considering it."

"Robb is no fool; I'm sure he will surpass this kind of political move. As much as the Lannisters think they can control the narrative, actions speak louder than words," I concluded, and the conversation about that came to a halt.

Taking a spyglass, I observed the Lannister host some miles away from where we were preparing. The site was foggy, but I could see the silhouettes of their army.

"They do not know where we are," I smiled. "It's time we show them why attacking us was a bad idea."

Banging their heads on the table, the rest of the lords stood up and began calling for their men.

Jaime Lannister 

Lannister Camp, Mummers Ford.

I was feeling a foreboding sense in my whole being—nothing that I could explain. We heard the news about Father's host, but that was something hard to believe. It was impossible that a green boy like Robb Stark could defeat my father in battle, and the less said about the most outrageous tales, the better.

Tales about how Robb Stark set the field ablaze with wildfire, how he killed so many people in the battle called the "Massacre of Riverrun," how the sky dimmed in his presence. It was a high tale and not something I believed in. It was impossible; magic was gone from the world after the death of the last dragon. Everyone accepted that, and while in the North such things were more common, here in the South it was almost impossible to accept.

I remember seeing Robb Stark during the royal visit to Winterfell, and while I didn't interact with him much aside from some japes, he left a deep impression on me. But none of what I saw hinted at what the smallfolk were saying about him now.

Even back then, he had been a promising fighter. With three and ten name days, he was capable of injuring a Kingsguard—one that, while not giving his all at that moment, was an achievement of its own.

To be honest, I regretted starting this war. The secret between Cersei and me was found by the previous hands, and the honorable fool Ned Stark wasn't capable of seeing the problems making it public would cause. And here we were, burning through the Riverlands at my father's orders to sow fear into our enemies.

He thought that he could repeat the Rain of Castamere so that the rest of the realm would leave King's Landing alone, and while he could probably do so, it was too late now. With both Baratheon fighting for the throne, the North doing the same, and the Riverlands following Robb Stark, our actions didn't surprise me. After taking control of the Small Council for so many years after Cersei's wedding, we weren't liked by the rest of the kingdoms.

I understood what Father said about the lion not caring for the opinions of the sheep, but I knew he was wrong. We did not have dragons like the Targaryens, and being cruel and sadistic only stopped cowards from rebelling. But if it was true that the Young Wolf had Father as a hostage, it would all crumble under them.

The main defense our house had was that we were infallible and unbeatable, but if that failed, other people would get ideas. While the Westerlands were tight, and most houses would follow us, I was sure we would see a decline in support after the news reached there. And with Stannis, Renly, and that Targaryen already preparing to march, the Westerlands would become afraid.

It was different in the rebellion, where Father stayed neutral until the end of the war. At that time, besides myself, the rest of my family had the option of saving their strength until the last moment. But now? Now we were the first to march; the levies were tired, and we had been on the move for over a month. While our advance to the Riverlands had stopped, I knew that our men hadn't rested enough.

"I don't like this, not one bit," said Lord Leo Lefford while shaking his head. He had been morose ever since the news of Father's defeat at the hands of the Starks since the most probable move after that would have been to attack the Golden Tooth, where his wife was alone with only some defenses mounted. And while the castle was said to be impenetrable, Robb Stark had already defeated two houses famous for the same thing.

While the Freys were a disgrace, the Twins were not. In his place, I would have absolutely no idea how to enter the castle if the Freys were against me without wasting so much time on a siege trying to starve them. And the less said about the Boltons, the better. I remember seeing Roose Bolton during the Greyjoy Rebellion, and he gave me the creeps.

From what I knew about their history, which admittedly was not much, the Dreadfort was another impenetrable fortress with cruel and sadistic people inside. Robb Stark had been capable of spiriting away the lord and his only remaining heir without the guards noticing.

"We already sent a raven to the Golden Tooth, my lord," Ser Falwell nodded at him, understanding his preoccupation with the situation. "There is not much more we can do from where we are; we just need to pray to the Seven for their safety."

Lord Lefford sighed but nodded at him. "Aye, we can just hope to continue with this madness." After that, he took a seat in the main tent, and I couldn't help but frown upon hearing this. I knew people from the Westerlands mainly followed the Lannisters because of the fear Father had instilled in them with all his actions, and while most of them didn't believe that this was the best course of action, they would continue supporting us. But Father's defeat had happened at the worst possible moment. Everyone had heard about the Hour of the Wolf and knew what the Starks did with their enemies. If Eddard Stark was the one leading the army, I would not be that afraid because he wouldn't harm the hostages more than needed; his son was different.

He was mostly an unknown, and that scared our followers. And the damn environment did not help at all.

"Fuck this shit," snorted a Braavosi sellsword Father had bought. "This shit is unnatural—the rain, the fog? Something evil is going on."

I nodded at that; I also didn't like it one bit. It's been days since it started raining, and it was almost impossible to see far away. The soil was soft thanks to the rain, and it would be difficult to defend ourselves if we wanted to.

Looking for something to do, I started examining the map of the Riverlands. We hadn't been able to advance more, and since the news, we had stopped moving at all. The fort was only being used to safeguard the important equipment and foodstuffs; most of the levies were camping outside.

"What the fuck is happening?" exclaimed Tygett Lannister with urgency. He had been getting antsy for a while, and my boneheaded uncle was itching for a fight.

I stood up and tried to see anything of note, and I gasped in surprise, seeing the fog receding.

"Fuck… I knew this fog was not natural… Magic is real," murmured Lord Lefford.

Across the field, we could see countless men of the Riverlands marching toward us, and we weren't prepared for that.

"Blow the horns!" I shouted, running back to my tent to get my armor and weapon. "Prepare our men!"

Before long, most of the Lannister forces were arranged in their classic blocks, the infantry in front with the cavalry at their sides, hoping to find opportunities for pincer attacks.

In the middle of the levies stood the sellswords—the people we would miss the least if something went wrong. Loyal only to the highest bidder, and in Westeros that meant the Lannisters.

"Look at their feet," Lord Lefford said haltingly. "I am completely sure the soil over there was as moist as this one," kicking his feet in demonstration, the squelching of his soles against the mud obvious.

"Vile sorcery," spat the general of the sellswords. "We hold the high ground; we better stay put over here."

Ser Tygett snorted disdainfully. "Edmure Tully is a weak lord. I'll take the cavalry to him and defeat him."

I frowned; I didn't want him to do that, but I knew better than to voice my opinion. When he gets in this mood, he would hear none of it. "Are you sure, uncle?" I asked one last time.

"If you are afraid of parlor tricks, be my guest. I will not stay put when they have my brother hostage," he scowled.

Edmure Tully.

We were finally here, and it was time to show my worth. Our bannermen were gathered in the middle, with the Northerners at attention on the sides, waiting for their opportunity. I would need to ask Robb how he had taught them; they marched as one and fought the same. They looked like the famous blocks of YiTi.

Now it was our true chance to avenge the burning of the Riverlands and finish the Westerlands off their strength. I could feel my men were in the highest spirits possible. "Ser Vance," I called out, and my friend rapidly approached the front of the line where I was located.

"What do you think? I'm sure some of them will get the idea to attack first. Do we wait for them or attack first?" I asked. One of the most important lessons from my father was to seek counsel from my trusted men. I wanted to attack first, but I would not put this battle in jeopardy because of my wishes.

"We better advance slowly and hope the plan Lord Sylvyrn proposed works. If they are capable of doing as promised, we would gain the advantage," he murmured, with Lord Mallister nodding in agreement.

"Aye, I agree with that," he said lightly before snorting. "Not only because I want to see them at work."

"Prepare the archers!" I shouted before addressing my commanders. "We will do as you say; advance at leisure. Save our strength for when it is needed the most."

With my shout, everyone prepared—the archers nocking the arrows to their bows, and the infantry in front of all of us clanking their spears against their long shields. Shouts could be heard from every direction of our army.

My commanders left my side, going to their respective platoons to direct.

Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself, thinking of my family, my people, and the future. This was it… This was my moment. Images of my lord father smiling in my youth, saying to me that he was proud of how I had grown, Catelyn's smiles when we used to play in the gardens, even of Lysa… the thought of her brought a pang to my heart. If she had done the things Robb accused her of, she would pay for her crimes, but that didn't mean that I didn't love her.

Letting my breath out, I opened my eyes, focusing on the battle like I had never done before in my life. "Start moving! It's time we get our due!"

With my shout, everyone began to move slowly, and I smiled seeing the dirt under us hardening before we could advance at a slow pace. Truly, the green men were wonderful aids.

"Let loose!" I shouted, and with it, the archers and the levies started marching, hoping to put an end to the Lannisters.

The arrows flew loose, and the Lannisters didn't bother guarding since we were so far away—way more than recommended. But we had tricks up our sleeves. With a whoosh of wind, the arrows traveled faster and farther than they should.

I smirked, seeing the Lannister men dropping like flies, over a hundred dead with the first volley.

Nodding at Lord Mallister, who was in charge of the archers, he returned my smirk. Truly, magic was something else.

The green men in our backline were using their "meager" control of the winds, and inwardly I scoffed. If they called this meager, I didn't want to imagine what the Children of the Forest in their heyday could do.

Thinking of the Arm of Dorne made me shudder.

Little by little, our infantry advanced, and after seeing the bloodbath our first volley caused, I could see through my far eye that Tygett Lannister started moving, shouting something I couldn't hear as I hid my smirk.

The more angry they got, the better for our plans, after all.

With a last shout, the Lannister cavalry started moving—over five thousand horses galloping at their fastest speed.

"Hold!" I shouted, and the infantry pumped their shields to the ground, using a small hole at their side to push their spears through it as they continued advancing at a slow pace.

With excitement surging in my heart, I prayed that Lord Sylvyrn's plan worked as they told.

I could see the infantry shaking a bit in fright before more shouts raised their spirits, and it was understandable after all, being the first line of defense against so many horses. But seeing them struggling to pick up their speed thanks to the terrain helped.

"Any moment now," I murmured, and my anticipation soared through the air, watching them approaching us mile by mile until they were a hundred feet away from us.

The closer they got, the more our people prayed, me included. But after a moment, I could feel a small tremor under our feet.

"Holy fuck," said a soldier next to me.

"Seven save us," murmured another, and they were not the only ones.

In front of our frontline, I could see holes opening, with sharpened roots starting to sprout, making a trap against the Lannister cavalry. And they were going too fast to stop in time.

After a few seconds, the first victim fell, a poor horse that was impaled by the wall, and with more and more roots coming through the soil more and more began to die, their soldiers being squashed under the full weight of their horses.

It was the perfect time to attack.

"Kill the Lannister scum!" I shouted, advancing with the complete force of the host.

I lifted my sword impaling the first soldier I came across with my men following my lead. Lannister and Bravossi blood began to flow through the lands, quenching its thirst for vengeance.

"Fuck them, boys!" shouted lord Vance, in charge of the cavalry.

The archers dropped their bows to the ground, snarling and grabbing their swords, running toward the lannister like men possessed by the warrior.

With the wind in our favor, we didn't need to worry about their archers, and with full confidence in our victory, we ran to do what most of us dreamed of. Painting our lands with Westerlands blood.

And blood flowed. Many Lannisters died at our feet as we advanced. The back of their cavalry managed to stop before coming against the spikes, but we were onto them.

Rushing against Tygett with some soldiers at my back we started slashing and hacking through them, lifting my sword and slashing the sword hand of one of his guards before I came in front of him.

"Vengeance sure is sweet, is it not, Lannister?" I asked conversationally.

"Fucking foul sorcery" he spat to the floor before dropping to the ground after a soldier killed it.

"Get up Lannister! Die on your feet at the very least!" I shouted at him as he scrambled to the floor trying to reach his sword.

"You have no honor, Tully!" he scowled, "Groveling in front of sorcerers?"

With complete savagery a rushed toward him delivering a kick to his chest, that coupled with my momentum dropped him back to the ground.

"Get up, Lannister!" I shouted again, much to the amusement of my companions.

Several knights tried to reach us to protect him but it was too late, taking a spear from my saddle I impaled him through the chest, blood flowing freely from his wound.

"Kill them all!" I ordered, and the rest followed. 

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves I observed the battlefield. The Lannister infantry was approaching us, but with our numerical advantage, they wouldn't be able to change the tide of this battle.

"Signal the northerners!" shouted Lord Mallister, and war horns could be heard across the battlefield.

The northerners advanced as a unit, and disaster befell the lannisters. The northern part of the host was drenched from head to toe with the blood of our enemies, and they were unflappable toward their goal. 

Finally, the infantries collided, and shouts could be heard from everywhere, as I winced from one particular gruesome shout of pain.

Caving the head of another night, my sword was crimson and dripping, but I didn't let that stop me. I watched with grim satisfaction as the Lannister broke they began to stampede their own men to run away from us, something that couldn't be allowed.

"Rush after them!" could be heard from our forces, and with renewed vigor everyone followed.

Edmure Tully.

Two hours later.

"What are our losses, lord Mallister?" I asked while sitting on the ground. Rounding up all the stragglers we could reach took so much time, and the same could be said for the ones who surrendered.

"We lost a little bit over three thousand, my lord" he replied with a wince that I returned.

I had fucked up… with the excitement and bloodlust of the battle I did not think much when following the Lannisters that ran away, and we did not find out the traps in time. Obviously when we reached those traps and our first men died I called for them to come back, but that didn't mean it was the best decision. The Lannister host in the Riverlands had broken, but I had wanted more and some men fell for that.

Nonetheless, most of the Riverlanders had been in agreement, so not the whole fault laid with me but I felt conscious about it.

"How many died on the traps and pursuit?" I asked scowling.

"One hundred, Edmure" he replied lowering his head.

"Fuck" I murmured.

"No one faults you, my boy. We all got over excited" he said softly with a hand on my shoulder. 

I nodded at him, trying to take my mind away from those thoughts.

"What about the hostages? Did we find the kingslayer?" I asked hiding my inner thoughts, showing only a sneer at the coward.

"Nay" he spat to the ground, "The cowardly cunt ran away with three thousand men. It's not worth it to continue searching for him."

I punched the floor with a snarl. The most important person in the host had managed to escape, and he was probably running to Kingslanding. 

Sighing I stood up with the help of Jason, "Regroup, and let's take back the fort. Offer leniency if they come out without making problems, and make sure to send a raven to Riverrun. I'm sure Father and Robb will be ecstatic with the news."

Jason nodded and ran to see it done. Ser tytos seeing that I was alone approached me.

"Good job today, lad. You have gained the respect of your people" he guffawed with a big smile on his face, "You managed to regain our honor, and no one will forget that in the years to come."

"Even with my mistakes?" I asked morosely.

"Aye" he nodded, "You are only human, after all. You fought, you bled and you won for the riverlands. Be proud of what you have done, lad."

Smiling at him I punched his arm, "What about you, old man? Managed to gain some glory?" 

He smiled wildly at that, showing a large gush in his arm. "I'm sure his grace will give me a medal or something"

"oh?" I lifted my eyebrow, "What did you do you old fox?"

"Follow me" he smirked, and I did.

Walking with him through the camp we had set, I looked around to see if there was a need to do something, but I found everything was being taken care of by different people. The green men were working on the wounded, and the soldiers that saw the least action were herding the hostages like cattle. We would need to do something about them fast since we had over six thousand hostages, and that was dangerous, but I was sure Robb already had plans for that.

After following old Tytos lead, we arrived at where we kept the hostages. The old lord almost with a skip on his steps showing his emotion.

"Look at that sorry sod" he smiled, pointing at a cage in the middle of the rest, being protected by five guards alone.

"Ser armory lorch" I gasped, patting the old lord next to me in the back at the job well done. "You, my lord, will gain so much from Robb for this gift. I'm sure of it."

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