It was late in the afternoon when Ser Brynden came back to the host.

"I found a good place to face Lord Tywin," he said, before any of us could greet him.

"How long for us to get there, ser?" Robb asked.

"We could get there in two days if we march through the night today. Once there, Tywin's host would be a day's march away." Ser Brynden said, looking directly at my brother's eyes.

"So be it then." Robb turned to face the column. "My lords, we found favorable terrain to face Tywin."

"For the North!""For Winterfell!""For Ned!" Roared the column.

The Greatjon materialized to Robb's side to pat his shoulder, "We'll shove our swords up the ol' lion's bunghole soon enough! An' then to smash his oathbreaker son!"

The column roared once again. It took a few minutes for the column to calm down and keep the march, Ser Brynden was riding besides Robb when they called me.

"I'll keep screening our movements from Lord Tywin, best we keep him guessing what we are doing," with that Ser Brynden rode off.

"Jon, my uncle thinks we should keep an eye out in our rear," said my brother in almost a whisper. "I fear if I send one of my bannermen there, they would take offense or grow overeager and kill whatever suspicious thing they find…"

"Don't sweat it Stark, I have men guarding our rearguard already, I'll just go and check on them ," I grabbed him by the shoulder and lowered my voice. "Besides, I think Lady Stark would appreciate me not being here."

My little jape was in bad taste, because my brother tensed up preparing to say, for the umpteenth time, that her mother didn't hate me. "Sorry about that, Robb. But you should seriously talk to Lady Stark, I don't think she's too happy that her son is about to face Lord Tywin in the field."

He sighed, "Mother… aye, she doesn't want me going against Lord Tywin. I think she still sees me as a green boy who doesn't know how to wipe his nose."

"Well, we are green boys," I poked his ribs, but my finger slammed against his plate. "But as Ser Brynden says, it is to our advantage. Lord Tywin will underestimate you and that will be his undoing."

"Did you just break your finger, oh brother-o-mine?"

Of course he would latch onto that, "Nope, I don't know what you are talking about." I quickly straightened on my saddle, trying my hardest not to rub my finger.

"You are so dumb Snow," Robb snickered.

"And handsome."

"Wha-" Heh, it seems I caught him off guard.

"I think we already established that I'm your handsome bastard brother." I snickered back. "The most handsome bastard to ever live, in fact."

He rolled his eyes so hard, that I think I saw his horse give him side eyes, "Fine then, my dumb and handsome brother," he reluctantly said.

"And don't you forget! But… going back. Robb, Lord Tywin, and most of the realm if we are being honest, will underestimate your prowess as a commander," I took our conversation back on topic. "And that's fine, great even, as it will hide our trap and only make it seem as the inexperience and rashness of youth."

Robb kept silent for a few breaths, his gaze locked on the horizon and his hands turning into fists. I pretended not to see it.

"But… but what if he's right?" he muttered. He turned to me, "what if it is the inexperience and rashness of a green boy?"

He sounded brittle, like a frozen lake near spring. I could understand him, honestly I'm scared shitless right about now. But obviously I couldn't show that to my brother. And I can only imagine that this is far worse for him.

So I did the only sensible thing, I put a smile of false bravado on my face, "Listen Robb, the old lion is expecting you to order a full frontal charge or some stupid thing like that," I patted his shoulder. "Or mayhaps overcommit your army to one flank, just as Ser Brynden said. You won't do any of that and when we see him on the field though, it will catch him by surprise.""

I could see he was still doubtful, that's fine, he'd be a fool to expect certainty on the battlefield, "He's a traditionalist and therefore, predictable," at least that's what the Blackfish thought. "His vanguard will be on the left, that's set on stone. We'll be able to exploit that."

"I… guess," he managed to say.

Well, that was a little better, but, still, it wouldn't do, "It's fine to be scared before battle Robb, only the fools or the insane wouldn't. Obviously, you can't look scared or you'll lose respect yadda, yadda. But all your lords are scared as all hell too, I bet."

Robb sighed and relaxed his hands, "Even the Greatjon?"

"Ahh well, that man is something else." I had thought Lord Umber had lost his fingers in some 'normal' incident like a wildling fight gone wrong, but it turns out Grey Wind took those fingers back at Winterfell. Despite of that, or maybe because of it, the Greatjon became my brother's most vocal supporter. Quite the odd turn of events.

"Don't worry too much Robb… or rather, worry but don't bury yourself in it. Ser Brynden said our plan is brilliant," and a bit hard to pull off, but let's not mention that right now.

We talked for a while after that. My brother was able to relax a little, at the very least his shoulders seemed less strained. I turned my horse to ride to our rear, but before leaving I insisted him to talk to Lady Stark.

Last night I noticed something. Neither Robb or I have talked about Father or our sisters for a while. I'd like to think it was because we were confident about rescuing them, but I couldn't deny the truth, at least not to myself and not this long. We are scared.

I believe we stopped talking about them once Robb showed me Sansa's letter. In there… she didn't mention Arya and no word from the capital had reached us about our youngest sister's fate…

I took a long breath and unclenched my fists. Or at least tried to, my hands refused to obey me.

We'll get them back. And if not… I'll find each and every single one responsible for this and… make them remember that the Stark line not only has Brandons and Eddards, it also has Theons and Harlons in it.

Lost in my thoughts, I arrived to a commotion in the rear. I had sent Hatten to the rearguard together with the Neck's host, so it only took me a moment to find myself in the middle of it all. There I found a familiar face.

"I'm just asking a chance to prove myself, my lords," said Perwyn Frey, the man who stayed with us as a guarantee for Lady Stark's safety.

Lord Greengood spat to the floor, "And I'm telling you ser, that we already know Freys for what they are."

"I'll not deny my kin's faults, my lord. But, at the same time, no man can deny that Aegon V is of the same blood as Aegon the Unworthy. One a worthy king and the other a scoundrel that caused the Realm much grief."

Before Lord Lonnel Greengood could try and grab Ser Perwyn by the neck, I had to intervene. Yes, I didn't like the Freys either, but in this case, he is right. No son should pay for his father's sins. Guilt by association can easily seep its way into its unsuspecting victims and they, in turn, can use it to justify any injustice.

"Ser Perwyn, my lords. You'll have to excuse me but I'd like to know what is happening here," Hatten gave me a quick nod from the side, it seems things were getting heated before my arrival.

"Well met lord Snow. Me and some of my brothers grew tired of waiting for Lord Frey and… well, here we are. A hundred and some riders." Ser Perwyn finished with a shrug.

I half understood what he was saying. A few Freys riding to meet us and raise their blades against the Lannister? Why only a few and why would he emphasize 'some of his brothers'? Was he here as Lord Frey's spy? Or maybe a token force from Lord Frey to play both sides still?

Only one way to know, "I'll be forward ser," as forward as talking with nobility could be, "Why join us now? Why not pledge yourselves to our cause back at the Twins?"

"We needed a few hours to gather my brothers patrolling our lands while also being careful not to alert my… not so eager kin," he said the last part with a grimace.

His words were careful and measured, I could understand him a little better now. The Freys were not a united front, something must have happened for them to openly challenge their lord father's commands. It would be nice if they did so due to their honorable spirit, that they saw an opportunity to aid their liege or that they were ashamed of Lord Frey's actions. I don't think that's the reason, or at least not the whole reason.

The crannogmen lords were in the right to be suspicious, not many people would offer to fight by your side with nothing to gain other than 'honor and glory'. Less, if the opponent is the man known for brutality all across Westeros.

The few hedge knights or smallfolk who joined our ranks were either looking for revenge or didn't have nothing better to do.

Would the Freys betray us? Wrong question, I almost smacked myself. If they betray us, what damage could a hundred riders do? Not much if we manage them well, I'd think. Separate them thoroughly while disguising it as duty, some with Ser Brynden's scouts, some divided along the column and two or maybe three in my brother's personal guard.

I was still thinking on the issues bringing them into the fold could make, I needed some more time, so I inquired some more, "Which of your brothers are with you, ser?"

Having to think this much over a hundred riders. Is it even worth it?

"Trueborn, there's Jammos, Olyvar and myself as for baseborn, there's Walder, Martyn, Ryger and Ronel. All we are asking, my lord, is to give us a chance to prove ourselves," he locked eyes with me.

If I'm being honest, those words were the only thing that was preventing me from chasing them away. 'The chance to prove oneself', some people died for less. And, no matter how calm and collected Ser Perwyn looked now, I still could recognize the strain in his voice and the nervous looks he gave me and the Neck lords and heirs.

I still couldn't fully trust him, not enough to occupy Robb with this, "I gather you heard the Lady Stark's offer to your lord father?" I left the words hang in the air, if it is self interest I'd be slightly more inclined to trust them, mostly because their interests would depend on us.

"I did, my kin was still in discussions when we left," it seems Ser Perwyn is at least polite enough to not demand something for his service, or maybe shrewd enough to know doing so would only incense the Northern lords against him. "None of us is crass enough to demand rewards for upholding our vows, we just refuse to do nothing while the Lannisters pillage and burn the Riverlands."

He never closed the door to receiving 'just rewards' though. Seems to me it is a branch of self interest, but of interest of what? Is it coin? Or is it lands? Or something else?

At least I feel slightly better that it is self interest. Besides, the lords were slightly appeased by Ser Perwyn's reply.

"What say you, my lords," I swiped my gaze to the lords Greengood, Blackmyre and Boggs, the other Neck houses stayed home, tasked by Lord Reed with defending the entrance to the North. "I, for my part, believe that while most men are their father's sons, no man should be judged by their father's faults."

"I'll keep an eye on your men, ser!" Lord Blackmyre spat. "I don't trust your father nor yours, but I can tell you want to be a soldier, I can trust soldiers."

With that the rest of the Frey riders joined our rear, I sent Hatten with Ser Perwyn and Ser Jammos, for them to pledge their swords to my brother. I stayed with the rear to organize the riders and split them across the column.

I had an inkling that the Freys, these ones at least, were truthful in their intentions (the self interest intentions at least), but being safe toppled some ruffled feathers.

I woke up from a restless sleep about an hour before dawn, I had what the book Lord Reed gave me called 'wolf dreams'. That book was full of stories of skinchangers and greenseers, the biggest difference between those and Old Nan's stories, was that the book didn't portray the skinchangers as evil, or at least not completely evil.

The skinchangers in Lord Reed's book were portrayed as heroes and warriors just as much as monsters and beasts. Half the book was like reading about the War of the Wolves, the war where the Starks of old defeated Gaven Greywolf the Warg King of Sea Dragon Point, from Gaven's side. The other half were stories that read like Aesop's fables, if you look beyond the massacres and war crimes that is.

I took my journal and started writing everything I could remember from last night's dreams with the campfire's light. I've been having similar dreams a few weeks before Lord Reed's visit at the Moat, only that at the time I didn't thought anything of them. Hell, even after reading those stories I still ignored them, I really wanted to smack my past self for that.

Leaving the Moat was like a trigger of sorts though. Since then, I started having those wolf dreams every night. At that point, I couldn't ignore my 'skinchanger tendencies' any longer. I still haven't told a soul about them, since it is a… touchy subject, due to the hate the great majority of the Seven Kingdoms have for wargs and skinchangers.

Currently, I'm not entirely sure how, when and to who should I tell about this skinchanger business. I believe that anyone who hears it from me will first laugh to the ground and upon insistence call me crazy. And what could I say then? 'Well you see, I have these dreams…' As if that wouldn't end up in more laughter or a pitiful glance.

So I chose to keep quiet, at least until I could warg at will. Which will be hard due to not having a manual or teacher, the book helped me to understand what is happening and what to expect, but an explanation of how to go from point A to point B? None whatsoever.

Immersed in these thoughts and the sun still away, I walked through the camp with Ghost at my side. My destination, my brother's command tent. On the way, I met Daryn Hornwood, the Karstark brothers minus Eddard and the Mormont sisters minus Dacey, they all looked resolute.

All the Northern lords arrived at the commanding tent with the first light. There, Robb greeted us, he looked gaunt with dark circles under his eyes. War didn't rest well upon him, upon anyone really.

Robb started the meeting, "Ser Martyn Rivers and his men found Lord Tywin's host, the rider he sent told us that our scouts will pretend to harass them so they march upon us today."

I felt the tension rise on the tent. We already knew that today we would battle the Lannisters, but hearing a confirmation of it… it hit different.

Robb continued, "We'll leave some tents on the front lines covering the ditches we dug, while our army forms behind," my brother gave us all a severe look. "It is important that the Lannister scouts see that, we'll pack them as fast as possible when they do. There is a small hill south of our position, it isn't high enough for Lord Tywin to see our ditches once our army is fully formed, we made sure of it."

The tent was silent, we could hear the sounds of an army, our army, getting ready for battle all around us. The rustle and bustle of men dismantling tents, sharpening weapons and putting on armor. It was real, we were battling Lord Tywin today.

I could see the Greatjon about to say something and apparently Robb also saw it because he started talking again, "I'm announcing commanders, my lords," he swiped the tent with his gaze, everyone straightened. "The right flank with three thousand foot will be our vanguard, it will be commanded by Lord Umber. As for sub-commanders, the outermost right will be taken by Harrion Karstark and Ser Wendel Manderly will take the opposite side."

"We'll trample those Lannister cunts!" pledged the Greatjon with a rumble. "Lads, if you don't hurry on your sides, it'll all be over under my vanguard."

"Bah, I bet I'll have to clean up your mess before the day is over," said the Lady Maege Mormont.

Before the Greatjon could answer and inevitably start a quarrel of some sort, Harrion Karstark said his piece, "The vanguard will hold my lords, that at least, I can vouch."

It has to hold, they have the best trained men of us all, a healthy mix of Stark, Karstark and Manderly elites with Umber men to bolster their ranks.

Robb gave a silent command for quiet and continued with the announcements, "The left flank with four thousand foot will be commanded by Lord Bolton. The outermost left sub-commander will be my brother Jon Snow," surprisingly, at least for me, I didn't hear much grumble or at least not as much as I expected. Ser Helman's sounded more like a cough. "With Lord Halys Hornwood taking the opposite side."

"The left flank won't fold, my lords. The moment the trap is set we'll be ready" said the creepy and pale Lord Bolton.

Lord Hornwood and me just nodded.

While our vanguard had our most trained levies, the left flank had the normal ones from Bolton, Hornwood, Cerwyn, Mormont and the Neck lands. What we had over the right flank was the crannogmen archers and crossbowmen, I'd wanted to have double of their number, but alas we would make do.

My brother continued, "I'll be stationed in the center with six thousand foot and two thousand cavalry together with Ser Helman, Lady Mormont and Robett Glover. I'll be sending reinforcements or join the battle as I see fit. As for our reserve, it is two thousand foot and the rest of our cavalry under Master Glover and Lord Cerwyn."

"Galbart, Medger! Sadly you won't be seeing battle today my friends!" the Greatjon raised his tankard of ale. "To victory! To the Young Wolf!" That's what my brother's honor guard had taken to call him, 'The Young Wolf' it fitted him, at least for now. I simply can't imagine a fifty year old Robb being called that.

"To Victory!" the rest of us rose in cautious cheers.

Lord Umber had the inklings of a motivational speaker, I bet that in my old life he could've been a top tier 'just do it' kinda guy, maybe even built a career out of that, being all hype and, hopefully, some substance.

I waited for everyone to leave before going to my brother's side. I patted his shoulder, the time for comforting words was already past us, so I just stood by his side having one of those silent conversations you can only have with your siblings, when he nodded I gave the troubled teen a half hug and left the tent.

Once I was outside, I heard something dreadful, "Oooi! Wolfboy, over here!" I was not prepared for this.

"Are you ready Jon? We're gonna kick some Westerlander arse today!" said Alysane Mormont while she waved her poleaxe, her sisters Lyra and Jorelle were more subdued and only gave me hand waves.

"Greetings Lady Alysane," I approached carefully. "Confidence is good, but we can't let it become arrogance, my lady."

"Bah, you sound like my mother, bahahaha," at least her sisters were polite enough to try and suppress their grins. "'Tis fine Jon, we'll be fighting side by side, you'll witness the might of the She-bears of Bear Island! Bahahaha!"

The three Mormont sisters started laughing, I was sorely tempted to just turn and leave, but that would be rude.

Just as I was contemplating to be rude this one time, Jorelle was able to stop laughing and spoke.

"What my sister means, Jon. Is that we'll have your back. We fought wildlings and Ironborns back home in our island, just stay by our side and don't be a fool."

I guess they were trying to be reassuring, maybe they think I'm pissing my pants right now, a sensible guess to be honest, but I'm not. Somehow or another I'm calm, my mind is not going on circles and my breathing is steady.

Besides, what she told me feels oddly emasculating, "It's alright Jorelle, I'm…" Thinking it through, why would it feel emasculating, these sisters have fought and bled defending their home, they are proved warriors and just want to reassure me. "I'm thankful, I'll make sure to keep by your side." I managed an awkward smile.

Jorelle nodded, "Well then, we'll get our men in formation right next to yours Jon, later."

"Later," I waved.

I hurried to my tent, there a servant helped me with my armor. Encased in polished steel I took my fullmetal halberd and strode to the left flank with Ghost hot on my heels. I tried to make him sit this battle out, but my direwolf was having none of that. And honestly, it was reassuring to have my albino friend by my side.

When I got to left flank, Hatten and Ryk were already whipping the men into formation, apparently Ryk had asked the Blackfish to let him fight by my side, the old knight didn't protest. Whatever you can say about Ryk, you can't tell he's not loyal.

I greeted the men and started barking orders, we were waiting a rider to take down the tents in front of us, once that was done we would have to wait for the Lannister host. Hopefully Ser Martyn's scouts were able to divert Lord Tywin's own.

To my left, there was uneven rocky terrain, enough to make any cavalry assault slow down lest the horses break their legs. To my right, the Greatjon had the Green Fork to cover his flank, any attempt to outflank us would need Northern compliance to prosper, but at the same time, we sacrificed mobility for a steadfast, hard to break position.

As such, most of our plan depends on Lord Tywin's taking the bait and attacking us. From what I heard of the old lion's arrogance, he has to be inclined to make the first move, I'm sure. We'll just have to hold long enough for Robb's machinations to work.

That is not to say this battle will be easy. On the contrary, this will be really hard, that much I know. Hell, I may even die, who's to say I won't. But at the very least I can vouch taking my life won't be cheap.

I slowly exhaled to calm myself. I gazed over the horizon when a thought invaded my mind, come here Lannister fucks, we're waiting.