The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

Seat Of The Hooded Kings

Screaming horses, clashing steel, the flash of fire and torchlight. The smell of blood, thick and hot, the feel of the rain on his face, or was that blood too? The fall of his sword, again and again, like an extension of his arm, men slaughtered wherever he went. He heard the howls of his brother and sisters, long, haunting and terrifying in the dying light, merging with the low sound of the northern warhorns. He lifted his own head to the dark sky and howled in reply...

No, that's Crow. 

Ren glanced to the direwolf that ran at his side. For a moment it had seemed like he was the one with blood on his claws and teeth, his black fur matted with mud and rain, looking up at the knight on horseback. 

This had been happening with more frequency in every battle he fought in, and every night he slept he found himself running with the wolf pack as they hunted, seeing Robb's stare in Grey Wind's eyes, Arya's grin from Nymeria and something of Sansa in Lady's expression. In the back of his mind somewhere, Ren knew that wasn't right, but in truth he wasn't sure that he minded. 

A morningstar came spinning out of nowhere and crashed into his thigh, causing pain to bloom there, and he was both the sword arm that hacked downwards in that direction, taking off an arm, and the jaws that launched at the man with a furious snarl. It didn't pay to lose focus in the middle of a battlefield.

Ren threw himself into the fight once more, surrendering his mind to the song of the battle that raced through his veins, his sword as alive in his hands as the horse that was underneath him and the wolf at his side. Grown men screamed at the sight of the direwolf descending on them out of the fray, learning firsthand that all talk of the dread beasts that rode with the Starks to war was true. 

The sun was setting, not that it could be seen through the rainclouds; they only saw the battlefield growing darker. They had been pushing west for weeks, now, in an attempt to draw Tywin Lannister out of the Riverlands then hastily retreat, leaving him trapped in his own lands and making King's Landing vulnerable to whoever wished to take it. 

It was another of Robb's genius strategic moves, yet his cousin had been against informing Riverrun not to stand in the way of the Lannister army at first, as had the Blackfish, worrying that any raven or rider would get intercepted. That was a fair concern, but the risks had to be weighed up. 

It was only after Ren had reminded them that they had left the castle in the hands of Edmure, and told him to hold it, that Robb relented and allowed him to send a rider east. He had sent two, in fact. One to Riverrun, and one to his mother, who by all accounts was now with Stannis and Loreon. 

So far, their plan was working brilliantly. Having crushed Stafford Lannister at Oxcross in a brutal victory, they were now attempting to take the Crag, leaving in their wake a series of captured castles - Ashemark being the most prominent - and gold mines. The Crag was weakly garrisoned, though had held out longer than expected, hence the fact they were still fighting even as darkness fell. But the gates had just been broken by the ram, Smalljon Umber and Black Walder Frey had scaled the walls leading a number of men with them and victory was within sight. 

Robb, of course, had insisted on being at the head of the army, and was clearly looking to be among the first through the newly broken gate. Ren had agreed with several of the others in Lord Stark's battle guard beforehand that they should attempt to hold him up slightly, just long enough so that he wasn't the first through, to make sure there were no hidden murderholes or arrow slits in the gatehouse. It was all very stirring and powerful having their leader actually lead from the front, but there was no point to that at all if Robb was to die as a result. 

Now, in the heat of the battle, it seemed like Ren was the only one to remember that conversation. 

"Norrey!" He yelled, managing to catch Owen's attention as Robb grew closer to the gate. "Hornwood!" Even through the slit in his helm, the furious green-eyed glare seemed to carry well enough, as the men hastened to get in front of his cousin. Robb looked irritated by their getting in the way, following Daryn Hornwood's glance his way.