The Songs of Winter | Robb Stark

Chapter 15

Seated at the table, amidst Robb's advisors, I take my place beside him as Jonos Bracken weighs in on Robb's potential allegiance.

"The obvious choice is to pledge fealty to King Renly and unite our forces with his in the south," he asserts confidently.

Robb leans back, arms crossed, and dismisses the notion, shaking his head. "Renly isn't the true king."

Jonos Bracken furrows his brow incredulously. "Surely you're not suggesting we support Joffrey, my lord. He executed your father."

"Robert's youngest brother. If Bran can't be Lord of Winterfell before me, Renly can't be king before Stannis," Robb asserts firmly.

Jonos nods in understanding. "So, are you suggesting we declare for Stannis?"

I can't help but snort at the absurdity of it all. "Neither option seems particularly appealing," I interject sternly. "Renly Baratheon isn't next in line for succession, which would only complicate matters further, turning this into a conquest. And Stannis, well, he's a wildcard, rumored to be as cold as stone. Not exactly the kind of ruler we'd want, now, is it?"

Greatjon nods emphatically. "Here's what I say to these two kings." He spits on the floor disdainfully. "Renly Baratheon means nothing to me, nor Stannis either. Why should they dictate over me and mine from some fancy seat down south? What do they understand of the Wall or the Wolfswood? Even their gods are off! Why shouldn't we govern ourselves once more? We bowed to dragons, and now those dragons are gone! There's the only king I'll ever bend my knee to - the King in the North!" With a resolute expression, he unsheathes his sword and kneels.

I lift my head in astonishment, a smile creeping across my face. Despite Lord Umber's occasional stubbornness, it's undeniable that no one understands the North like its own people.

Rising to my feet, I draw Songbird and kneel beside Robb, looking him straight in the eye. "I trust you above all others in this world and believe there's no one more deserving of this honor than you." Extending my sword, I declare, "To the King of the North!"

Robb stands slowly, his expression tinged with surprise, while Rickard Karstark follows suit. "They can keep their red castle and their iron chair," he proclaims, bending the knee with his sword outstretched. "The King in the North!"

With a grin, Carlisle takes up his sword, joining the ranks of those kneeling. "Well, well, well brother" he chuckles. "Feels like it's high time we paid our respects to a true king." Raising his sword, he adds, "To the King in the North!"

"Am I your brother now and always?" Theon questions Robb.

Robb affirms with a nod. "Now and always."

Drawing his sword, Theon kneels. "My sword is yours in victory and defeat, from this day until my last," he pledges.

Lord Umber pumps his fist in the air, leading the chant. "To the king in the North!"

We all join in, voices echoing. "The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North!"

Robb meets my gaze, and I give him a supportive wink, eliciting a small, grateful smile from him.

—————

As we step into Robb's tent, I can't help but tease, "I suppose I should address you as 'Your Grace' now."

Robb's smirk is quick to follow. "Wouldn't be opposed to that," he quips, settling onto his bed and shedding his coat and armor.