personal 4

Lyman Darry watched the Battle from his hidden position on the hill overlooking the battlefield. At his back were fifteen hundred riders ready to ride down this hill and into the back of the sellsword army. So far in the center the King's men were holding well and thinning out the less experienced and a lot more tired opponents. The southern river bank had collapsed in some places and was pretty much impossible to climb up in others, men climbed over dead bodies and trampled each other in their efforts to climb up the bed. The river was crowded with bodies as they all struggled to climb it. On the flanks the situation for the attackers was better but still hard. Men still struggled to climb the riverbed and even after they did the ground after it was drenched in not just water but also blood, gore and bodies as the men under Lord Mallister made the attackers bleed for every step they made. Bodies strewn the ground, most without any distinguishable colours on them, such was the amount of mud on the field but judging by numbers he would say there were more dead sellswords then Riverlanders. Still though the Riverlanders had not yet been pushed back far enough for the cavalry to reveal themselves and charge down the hill and out of the forest, they had not yet reached the solid ground that would make the cavalry charge work.

"Do you want a boy or girl?" Asked his cousin, Jon Ryger, second son of Lord Ryger. His cousin was speaking of the child in Sara's belly. He loved his wife, she was a brilliant woman, smart, kind and beautiful. She had sent him off with a kiss and told him to take care of her brother and cousin the King. He had been delighted when she told him she was with child and was determined to come home victorious to see his wife and newborn.

"A daughter." he answered his cousin. "Boys are much rowdier and I don't yet have the patience to deal with one." His cousin laughed at that.

"Well you're doing well for someone with no patience, a glory hungry and reckless man would already have charged."

"Not yet, not until the horn sounds." Lyman said. Turning his attention back to the battle on hand. Reinforcements had been sent by both sides to the flanks but neither had put anything in the center. Teague apparently happy to have his men slaughtered in exchange for his flank pushing back the Rivermen. The slog fest, for that was what it had descended into, continued at a gruelling pace for another hour. More men were committed by both sides until finally he heard it, the sound of a war horn. He looked down and the remaining reserves led a charge on all fronts into the battle, he could see the Blackwood banner of his King and his cousin's wife leading his personal guards, the ravens, into the center.

"For the Riverlands! For the Old Gods and for the King!" He shouted at the top of his voice and his men let out a roar as he drew his blade and turned his horse to charge over the hill and down the solid ground. The back of the Sellswords turned at the sound and it was chaos. Unorganised and with a hundred different leaders frome fifty different companies they could not form any sort of defence to his men's charge which smashed through the disjointed and uncoordinated defensive line, he swung his sword as he passed men, hacking and slashing through them but his blade don't claim half as many lives as his horse as it smashed and trampled men in it heavy armour.

They collapsed the flanking lines and sandwiches on two sides the sellswords, knowing they could not collect their gold if they were dead began a mad scramble to escape even cutting through their own men uncaring for which side they were on. But these men were exhausted and very few made it past the river to safety, and those that did go fought each other to climb the river bank, but exhausted and injured only a few hundred managed to do so, the rest died by suffocation, each other or by the Riverlanders who used their remaining projectiles to fire into the crowded mass killing hundreds.

Lyman led the men in cheers as the Teague reserves, about 5,000 men in total turned their backs and fled north the surviving few who managed to emerge from the river following them from distance in a disorganised mess. The cavalry could not pursue them across the river here and so in total a maximum of 6,000 men escaped with their lives that day and even then it was not guaranteed all of those fleeing would rejoin the army, or that Teagues' men wouldn't just kill him and take his treasury. Only time would tell.

—-

Allara bit down hard on the rag in her mouth as the lower half of her stomach erupted in pain as another contraction hit her. Finally after months of this child growing in her belly it was ready to enter the world, only her husband would not be here to see it. Instead he was off at war, when was he not, she thought annoyed. But she knew why she had married him, the other Riverlords were hardly going to go down without a fight and as much as he denied it she knew he at least to a point seemed to enjoy warfare. All men had their flaws she supposed but being one of those rare men who enjoyed the battle was not a huge flaw, at least he didn't go seeking needless one's. Her thoughts were once more brought back to the present by another much more intense cramp. She had her own battles to fight now.

And so she fought the deadly battle that was childbirth, for half a day she battled, bleeding and sweating. She kept on going until finally the cries of a healthy child came into the room.

"A son my Queen, a healthy heir!" The Maester cried. He was an older man but a loyal one having been with the Blackwood since he was eight and ten. "There's another one, your grace!" The Maester said and her eyes widened in shock, surely they would have noticed if there were twins. But even as her son was placed against her chest she kept pushing until she felt the baby leave her body. But there were no cries, instead the room seemed to become deathly quiet, even her newborn soon stopped his cries.

"It's not breathing, my Queen, a girl." The Maester said softly and she felt a piece of her heart break and her son cried against her chest apparently just as heart broken.

—-

His cousin had been a mess for the past two days since the news had come. The Maester said the baby would have died a few days before the birth and that they were lucky that the boy had survived. Brynden had also been heartbroken for his brother and king but he knew he needed to snap him out of it before the army began to grow restless.

He walked over to his cousin's tent and the two guards outside it gave him pleading looks to which he just nodded, they were just as concerned as him. He walked through the entrance of the tent and the smell of alcohol hit him hard. He wrinkled his nose and saw his cousin slumped over his desk.

"You look like your father at the end of his days." Brynden said angrily as he walked over and yanked his King to his feet and gave him a hard slap to the face sending his cousin sprawling.

"What the fuck." His cousins shouted in outrage but Lucas just pulled him up and repeated the slap.

"Get up and stand up straight." He said harshly and his brother glared but did it.

"What the fuck do you want." Spat Lucas.

"My fucking king back instead of the drunk shit that took his place the past two days." Brynden snapped "You are a king! Act like one! Your wife gave you a son, an heir, you should be thankful that both of them survived the birth, but instead of sending a message to your no doubt heartbroken wife you sit here and act like your father in his worst days."

"No, you no what? I used to be disgusted that my father let grief get the better of him but now I think I understand." Laughed his cousin,still drunk. Brynden snarled at that and decked him once again, blood was now streaming from Lucas's nose. Once Lucas did nothing more than groan on the floor Brynden picked up the ornate jug of water and dumped it on his cousin. Lucas gave a cry of shock at the cold water and sat up bolt straight.

"Fuck off you angry shit, leave me alone."

"No. Get up." Demanded Brynden and Lucas grumbled but did it. "Now you are either going to snap out of your grief, write a letter to your wife who is no doubt as we speak worried sick that you blame her for your child's stillbirth or I drag you out in front of everyone and dump your head in water until your an inch from drowning everyday until you wake up and START TO DO YOUR JOB AS A KING AND HUSBAND!" Brynden shouted the last bit straight into his cousin's ear, causing him to jump. He had written to Lara himself to give his own condolences and to tell her that Lucas would not blame her and that he was just confused and heart broken and he would snap out of it. But he knew his Queen well enough to know she would not be completely happy until Lucas was in front of her but until then a letter would have to do. After all, there were still 6,000 Teague men at the Twin's.

His cousin seemed to break down after that, great ugly sobs. "I just… I don't know what to feel. I'm heartbroken that my little girl died but thankful for my son and for Lara… I'm so confused, and sad and I feel so guilty for any happiness I feel at my son's birth." His cousin spoke, near incoherently and Brynden honestly was close to tears of his own at seeing his cousin so heartbroken.

"I know, Lucas, but Lara need's you, your son needs you, the army needs you, I need you, I can only do so much to lead the army." Brynden said and his cousin, no, his brother now he was back, nodded determinedly.

"I've been writing…" Lucas said nodding at the desk he had been slumped over and Brynden walked over and after raising his eyebrow for permission that Lucas granted he picked it up and began to read. It was an account, though Lucas called it a 'diary' of Luca's life so far, lessons he had learned, his opinion on things, instructions on how to do things in the way Lucas found best. It was incredibly detailed and detailed everything that a ruler might need using examples from history, his brother's own life and made up scenarios.

"It's for my son, and his son, and his son and so on and so on, so I can help my house from the grave, for hopefully thousands of years to come." Lucas said.

"This is… Brilliant. Any ruler would be lucky to read it." Bryden said, amazed "When did you start writing it?"

"After my wedding, but it contains my life form before that as well."

"It's brilliant, truly cousin."

"Thank you. Now I have a letter to write and an army to lead again." his King said. Brynden nodded and set the book down before walking towards the exit.

"Oh and Lucas, a bath and a shave would not go amiss." He called back and he heard his cousin laugh softly. Brynden had not healed him, the only one on the earth who had a chance of doing that was the Queen but he had recovered him from his stupor.

—-

Allara nearly hyperventilated as she opened the long awaited letter from her love, Brynden had written of course, good man that he was, but it was not enough and the fear, no matter how much she reasoned it foolish, that Brynden would hate her for their daughters death on top of her own grief had been extremely hard to burden. When she read the letter she nearly fainted in relief.

My Love.

I know no amount of apologies will make up for my selfish and immature silence that no doubt has been heavy on your mind these past few days. To be short my grief got the better of me much as it did my father and for that I am sorry, I only have you, our son and Brynden to thank that I did not descend quiet as far as he did. I absolutely do not blame you for our sweet daughter's death, instead I am immensely grateful to the gods and to you for our son and for your health. I have heard he has my features but for a mix of my blue and your grey eyes? I look forward to seeing both you and our son. By the way if you have not named him yet, as you know I would let you, then I would ask you to at least consider Brynden. The Gods know the bastard deserves it. I shall return to you soon, once the sellsword has completely been defeated and our realm is once more at peace.

With all my love, 

King Lucas Blackwood, Lord of Raventree, King of the Rivers and Hills.

The letter did much to asaude her doubts and love bloomed in her chest. She had lost her daughter, who had since been buried beside her grandfather and had looked like Allara but with blue eyes. She showed the letter to the heavily pregnant Sara that had come to offer comfort. She had smiled and said 'I told you so' after reading that Lucas did not blame her. She had also jokingly argued against naming her nephew after her brother, claiming the name would bring bad luck citing her brother's 'frankly lacking intellect' and 'terrifying face'. But truly Sara had clearly been honored that her brother would be honored as he was and Allara had eagerly accepted the name, Brynden was a good friend to her and a brother to Lucas but she also had no doubt that it had been him who had shaken her husband from his depression and for that he would be forever thankful to him for that.