Seven Dreams One Kingdom

13-Jon

Laying Rickon to rest had been harder on Jon than it had been for Sansa. She had told him she had already grieved for Rickon and his second death seemed less painful. Jon wasn't sure, he wondered if Sansa was trying to pretend not to be upset to make him feel better for not saving her brother, despite knowing what would happen. He'd tried to make Rickon weave his way down the field, but the child hadn't understood. Eventually Jon had ridden out to grab him, but Ramsay had shot Rickon, just as he was within Jon's grasp, just as Sansa had warned. Once Rickon's body was in the ground and they were left alone for a few minutes, Sansa had given him the final preparations for the conclave, which was about to take place, followed later by a feast to celebrate winning the battle and whatever else became of the meeting. To which, Jon had to admit to himself, he was nervous of the outcome. Much to his surprise, Jon was most concerned with the notion of him and Sansa marrying. After much consideration, Jon was not just in favour of the wedding; after what had taken place the previous night between him and Sansa, he wanted it more than any crown.

The distaste towards having to wear a crown, only heightened as he sat at the high table with Sansa by his side. They were surrounded by representatives from Northern houses, the Vale, and the Freefolk. Jon spotted Tormund, who was sat among the wildlings, and Littlefinger who was stood alone. off to the side, watching on with interest, as the Lords argued.

"You can't expect Knights of the Vale to side with wildling invaders." Yohn Royce, decried.

"We didn't invade. We were invited." Tormund disagreed.

"Not by me." Lord Royce sat down in a huff.

Jon stood up to try and diffuse the situation. "The free folk, the northerners, and the Knights of the Vale fought bravely, fought together, and we won. My father uses to say we find our true friends on the battlefield."

Lord Cerwyn also stood. "The Boltons are defeated. The war is over. Winter has come. If the maesters are right, it'll be the coldest one in a thousand years. We should ride home and wait out the coming storms."

"The war is not over." Jon warned. "And I promise you, friend, the true enemy won't wait out the storm. He brings the storm." he looked around as the men began to murmur in response to his claim. Eventually Lyanna Mormont took to the floor.

She turned to Wyman Manderly. "Your son was butchered at the Red Wedding, Lord Manderly. But you refused the call." she then turned to Lord Glover. "You swore allegiance to House Stark, Lord Glover, but in their hour of greatest need, you refused the call. And you, Lord Cerwyn," she spat, looking at the accused. "your father was skinned alive by Ramsay Bolton. Still you refuse the call." Sansa had warned him about how Lyanna could shame grown men and make them quiver, after all, he'd faced her at Bear Island and had felt her wrath. If she were to somehow survive all of this mayhem; Jon thought she would make one of the strongest leaders in the north. He continued to listen to her speech. "But House Mormont remembers. The North remembers. We know no king but the King in the North whose name is Stark. I don't care if he's a bastard. Ned Stark's blood runs through his veins. He's my king from this day until his last day." this had been the speech Sansa had warned him of, he had to admit, he was impressed by the girl, even if her words made him feel uncomfortable, especially knowing what he was going to reveal to these very people after they'd proclaimed him King.

The Lords murmured as Lord Manderly took to the floor. "Lady Mormont speaks harshly and truly. My son died for Robb Stark, the Young Wolf. I didn't think we'd find another king in my lifetime. I didn't commit my men to your cause 'cause I didn't want more Manderlys dying for nothing. But I was wrong. Jon Snow avenged the Red Wedding. He is the White Wolf. The King in the North." he declared, drawing his blade and resting it point-down on the ground and knelt, displaying his fealty.