Robb sat with his council, which now included additions such as his mother, Theon, and Jon. At the other end of the table, nearly shaking with nervousness, was a messenger from King's Landing. He wore red and gold clothing, with Joffrey's idiotic sigil of a prancing stag and lion facing each other on his tunic. In his hands, he fiddled with a scroll.
The council had been a rushed affair. Robb had just a long and arduous conversation with his mother.
Flashback
"Mother," Robb said quietly as his mother entered. After he had spoken with Jon and Sam, he had Ser Brynden help them get rooms and food before he sent a servant to fetch his mother.
"Robb?" Catelyn said curiously, closing the door behind her. Her eyes were slightly red-rimmed and her usually tight braid had become a little loose. She still held herself with the dignity of a noblewoman, but there were slight fraying at the seams.
"Is all well?"
Robb crossed his arms, leaning against the front of the desk. His face was like a slab of stone. Hard and unreadable.
"I just finished talking to Jon," Robb answered, glaring at his mother.
Catelyn frowned. "I had him…."
"You had him thrown in the dungeons when he came looking for me." Robb barked, just barely holding his anger back. "You had no right to do that."
Robb's mother sighed. "I was trying to…."
"I know what you are trying to do and I say again that you had no right to do that," Robb said, cutting off his mother again. "Do not forget your place here mother. I am in charge of this army, and when someone comes looking for me, this should see me. I will not have my mother cutting my legs out from under me."
"I was protecting you," Catelyn said angrily. "That bastard could have been here to stick a knife in your back!"
Robb scoffed. "Mother, you have spent close to sixteen years around Jon. When have we ever been anything less than best friends and brothers? I will tell you; never!"
"Robb," Catelyn said, "we don't know if he's a deserter or not."
Robb shook his head, picking up a raven message from off the desk, waving it infront of his mother.
"You're wrong," Robb said, hating the words as they came out of his mouth. "I received this message from Jon when we were still on the eastern side of the Twins. He sent it from the Last Hearth. Jon also stopped at Winterfell and Moat Cailin on his way here. If he was imprisoned then, he had no right to be imprisoned here."
Catelyn was shocked. "You never told me you received a message."
"Would your reaction be any different?" Robb asked sadly. "You would have told me that same thing you're telling me now. 'Jon is dangerous, do not trust him'. I know you, mother, and I know your irrational fear of my brother."
Catelyn opened her mouth to answer, but Robb stopped her. The young lordling had played out this interaction in his head while he had waited for his mother to arrive. He knew what he needed to say to his mother, and although he didn't want to say it, he knew it was necessary that she knew.
"I will not tell you this again, so listen carefully." Robb started, his voice like iron. "Jon is here to stay. You will not send him away, you will not belittle him, and you will never refer to him as a bastard. Is. that. Understood."
Catelyn seethed. "I'm still not sure we can trust that….him. How do you know that he's not a deserter."
"Because the same man that raised me raised him," Robb growled.
Before Robb's mother could respond, there was a knock at the door.
"My lord, there is a messenger from King's Landing." Theon's voice came through the door. "The war council has assembled."
"We'll be right there," Robb called back, pushing himself off of the desk and striding out of the room. He stopped right before went past his mother. "I love you, but this is not the time nor place for your emotions to rule your decisions."
With that, Robb left.
Flashback
"What does Joffrey want?" Robb asked gruffly, glaring at the man.
The man gulped nervously, glancing around the table before opening his scroll, clearing his throat. The man knew that he was in the proverbial lion's den. Or wolf den in his case.
"By order of His Grace, King Joffrey Baratheon, King of the Andals, Rhoynar, and First Men, Lord of the…." he started before the Greatjon interrupted him.
"Get on with it man. We don't give two shits about the boy's titles," the large lord growled.
The man nodded quickly, his eyes glancing fearfully at the giant man before looking back at his scroll. "His….King Joffrey has sent me to inform Robb Stark that his father, Eddard Stark, has been beheaded for treason against his lawful king. Furthermore, House Stark is no longer recognized as Lord Paramounts or Wardens of the North, and are hereby stripped of Winterfell and their lordly status." The man said, working hard to keep his voice from quivering. For his entire life, the messenger had been told that Northmen were savages, and he was fearing that the news of Eddard Stark's death might send them into a frenzy.
The news hit the group like an avalanche. Lady Stark choked back a sob as she leaned on her uncle, who wrapped an arm around his niece, consoling her. The other lords were in various states of grief. The Northmen barely held their anger in check, their sadness turning to fury while all the lords of the Riverlands shared the same mask of sadness and grief. Even Jon and Theon, who had never gotten along, shared a pale, mournful look. Eddard Stark had treated them both like sons, and they felt the loss just as deeply as Robb did.
Robb's glare broke as the news washed over him and he struggled to keep his composure. He stood slowly, slamming his fist on the table.
"Get the hell out of here," he growled. "Tell Joffrey that if he wants to take my home, then he can pick up a sword and face me on the battlefield."
The messenger bowed slightly and practically ran from the room, eager to be away from the Young Wolf and his men. When he was gone, Robb sunk back into his chair, still struggling to keep tears back.
For a moment, no one spoke, all thinking deeply on the news that had just been given. Robb's father had been a man unlike any other. A beloved man by both the commoners and nobles, a respected warrior and man who was renowned for his honor and honesty. It took a great man to be loved like Eddard Stark was in the North, but to be equally loved in both the Riverlands and the Vale was unheard of outside of men who wore crowns.
"What do we do now?" Ser Marq Piper asked quietly to no one in particular.
"We should declare for a king." Lord Bracken offered sadly. "Renly is the best option. He has the support of the Reach and the Stormlands."
"Don't be daft." Lord Blackwood snapped, his sadness turning to ire. "Stannis is the only lawful claimant to the throne. The younger brother can not inherit the throne before his older brother."
Slowly, the riverlords became embroiled in a debate of which king to support. Renly or Stannis? Renly was backed by two kingdoms; the Stormlands and the Reach, which made him a very powerful player on the field. Stannis, as Lord Blackwood had mentioned, had the rightful claim as he was Robert's true heir now that Joffrey's true parentage had been revealed.
Finally, a roar brought the argument to a halt as the Greatjon erupted from his seat, slamming his fists on the table.
"Who gives a fuck about some southern king?" He challenged. "What do they know of me and my kin? Of the harsh winter that my people suffer through while they sit on some pointy throne under the sun! What do they know of the Wolfwood or the Wall? Even their Gods are wrong!" He bellowed getting a few gruff laughs from the likes of Maege Mormont and Rickard Karstark. The large lord drew his sword and pointed it at Robb. "There sits the only man I'm willing to bend my knee to. Robb Stark! The King in the North!" He declared, kneeling before the Young Wolf.
Lord Rickard stood next. "Aye, the Greatjon has the right of it! Why take another king when we can have one of our own!" He said, drawing his sword and kneeling. "The King in the North!"
Theo stood as well. "Am I your brother? Now and forever?"
"Now and forever," Robb answered firmly.
Theon drew his sword and knelt next to the Greatjon and Karstark. "My sword is yours, in victory and defeat."
One by one, the other lords knelt before Robb, swearing their loyalty to him as the King in the North. Robb watched them all with a steady gaze, not sure how to react to their declarations. Finally, Jon was the only one still sitting.
He stood up slowly, looking at his brother. "I traveled across the North to be by your side. There is no man in all of Westeros more deserving of the crown," he said, drawing his sword. "You have my sword, my life, and my undying loyalty," he declared before he too took a knee.
The Greatjon took up the call once more. "The King in the North!"
"THE KING IN THE NORTH! THE KING IN THE NORTH! THE KING IN THE NORTH!"
Line Break
It had been a few days since Robb had been declared king, and in that time, a few changes had happened. A crown had been crafted by the blacksmith at Riverrun based on a description found in the castle's library. A circlet of bronze engraved with runes of the first men. Nine black iron spikes in the shape of longswords were surmounted on the bronze. It was beautifully crafted and the perfect crown for the king of the hardy and fierce Northmen.
Another thing that has changed was how people address Robb. Instead of 'my lord' or 'Lord Stark', more people had begun to refer to Robb as 'your grace' or 'sire'. It was a weird change that the young man was still getting used to. The only people who didn't refer to Robb by his titles were Jon, Theon, and his mother. But they only referred to Robb by name whenever they were in private.
Robb was slightly overwhelmed by it all, but he was quickly adjusting to the change. Thankfully, Theon and Jon still jested with him, just as they did when they were all still boys in Winterfell.
Now, Robb and his council were trying to decide what to do now that Lord Stark was dead. He had been the focal point of their war, and with him gone, they couldn't just sit at Riverrun with thirty-seven thousand men. Soon, food would run out, the men would begin to squabble amongst each other. An army had to be kept busy, it had to have a purpose.
"The Lannisters think that they are untouchable," Edmure said, addressing the group. "I say we give them the same treatment they've given our people!"
Once again, the fiery heir to Riverrun was pushing for Robb to invade the Westerlands in retaliation for what the Mountain and his raiders had done to the southern Riverlands. This time, however, he had more support. Ser Marq and Lord Vance still backed Edmure, but now Lords Bracken and Blackwood were too.
Robb looked at the Blackfish, who was watching his nephew with an exasperated look. The young king leaned over to the old knight while Edmure continued to press his case to the council.
"Any reports from the Westerlands?" He asked.
Brynden nodded grimly. "There's a host assembling behind the Golden Tooth. That's all my men could find out," he said. "They must have stripped garrisons to the bone to make any sort of real army."
Robb frowned but nodded. He stood up, quickly taking the attention off Edmure and onto himself.
"You make a good point, Uncle," Robb said easily. "The Mountain's actions will not go unpunished. But, I fear we can not win this war ourselves."
A roar of disapproval rose from the side of the table where the northern lords sat, but Robb raised his hand to calm them.
"Your grace, we have the advantage of numbers against the Lannisters." Lord Glover pointed out.
Robb nodded at him. "We do, but what about Stannis? What about Renly? We have no reason to go to war with them, and I have no wish to sit my arse on the Iron Throne." He explained. "We can hasten this war if we choose one of them to ally with. A southern king who will accept our independence."
"Your grace, Renly is the man you want." Lord Mallister said. "I've spoken with him many times. Stannis's will is like iron and he will not allow two kingdoms to succeed from Westeros. Renly is more likely to do so."
Robb looked around at his council. "Any argument against Lord Mallister's statement?"
"The man's a pillow-biter." Lord Bracken grumbled.
Robb shook his head. "I don't care about the man's sexual preferences, my lord. I care if he'll acknowledge our independence."
No one spoke up for Stannis or against Renly.
"Then it's settled," Robb said. "We'll treat with Renly and come to terms. He can keep the Vale, the Reach, the Stormlands, Dorne, and the Iron Islands. The North and Riverlands are under my control."
"What of the Westerlands?" Lord Bolton asked.
Robb shook his head. "I haven't decided. For now, any land we conquer, we keep."
A low cry of approval erupted from the table of lords. The Westerlands were known for its mines rich with silver and gold that could make any man very wealthy. One of the best mines was beneath Casterly Rock, and while that may be too far out of Robb's grasp, there were still others that were less defended and much closer.
"Who will treat with Renly?" Jon asked.
Robb thought for a moment before looking at the Blackfish. "Uncle, I am leaving you in charge of the men," he said. "Deal with the Lannister host and take the Golden Tooth. Anything after that, I leave to your judgment."
The Blackfish nodded. "It will be done." He promised.
"What will you be doing your grace?" Lord Vance asked curiously.
"I will meet with Renly Baratheon and make sure we get our independence," Robb answered.
"What about Tywin?" Jon asked.
Robb shook his head. "He can't move. Not with both Stannis and Renly poised to strike at the capitol."
For a moment, Robb glanced at his right towards his mother, then he realized she wasn't there. Since the news of his father's death, she had become reclusive, only appearing to have meals with Robb and his commanders. Every other moment she spent in her room, the sept, or with her father. She had also taken to wearing black every day, mourning the loss of her husband. Robb had tried to console her, but his attempts had been unsuccessful.
Ideally, his mother would have been his first choice to treat with Renly, but Robb couldn't send her away from her home, not when she needed to be here most. It fell on the Young Wolf to speak for his family and kingdom.
"When do you leave?" Lord Hawker asked.
"Tomorrow," Robb answered. "The sooner I can come to an agreement with Renly, the better."
"Your grace," Theon said, speaking up. "If I may, give me leave to go speak with my father. He has the greatest fleet in Westeros. We can crush the Westerlands between us."
Many on the council shifted in their seats, sending dark looks at the young ironborn. But Theon ignored them all and kept his eyes locked on Robb. The young monarch thought for a moment before nodding.
"Give your father an offer. If he rejects it, return to me. Do not waste your time or breath." Robb said.
Theon grinned, nodding happily. "Thank you, my lord."
Robb smiled slightly and looked back at his council. "I'll take three guards with me. Smalljon, Dacey, and Daryn. That'll be more than enough."
Jon looked up when he realized that Robb didn't say his name, but he didn't say anything.
"That will be all for today, my lords," Robb said. "If all goes well in the Reach, then this war will be over by the end of the year, and we will have avenged my father's wrongful death."