Edmure's wedding had been one of the finest weddings that Jon had ever been to, not that he had been to many in his lifetime. Whenever northern nobles had married, his father would bring Robb or any of his trueborn children with him to bless the union, staying for a night before returning. He never brought Jon with him, for obvious reasons.
Robb's wedding was the kind of wedding Jon would want if he ever decided to get married. It was a small, simple affair where the soon-to-be man and wife were surrounded by friends and family. Ser Brynden, Edmure, and Lady Roslin stood by Jon, who was at Robb's side. On the other side, Loras and Lady Olenna stood along with Margaery's ladies-in-waiting Sera and Mira.
The only thing Jon would change would be the location. Robb had decided that the wedding would be held in the sept, where his father and mother had been married some twenty years prior. It had also been to accommodate his new wife and the religion she was comfortable with. Jon knew that Robb would be married again in a proper Godswood, just as any northman would.
Jon was dressed in the same fine clothes he had been in when he had attended Edmure's wedding. A grey doublet with the white wolf outlined on his breast. His dark curls had been washed and his beard trimmed for the event. At his side, like always, was Frost.
Robb was dressed similarly to what Edmure had worn. Shining silver mail over a snow-white tabard with the grey direwolf of House Stark emblazoned on his chest. The Crown of Winter was hidden amongst his curls, the black iron spikes standing out amongst the auburn hair. At his side was Claw.
Sitting at both of their feet were their direwolves. Their pelts thoroughly brushed, much to the animal's annoyance. They had grown to massive proportions and were not just slightly smaller than ponies. Jon was beginning to wonder if Ghost would grow big enough for Jon to be able to ride him. It was a fanciful thought, but one that Jon was beginning to ponder as the wolf continued to grow.
One of Jon's worries about the wedding had been the Wedding Cloaks, the ceremonial cloaks that both the bride and groom wore. They were not something someone could find in a pinch. They took time to make and Jon didn't think that there was a stark or tyrell cloak made of silk or velvet just lying around.
Thankfully, Lady Olenna had already thought of that. Ever since Robb had agreed to the marriage, the Queen of Thorns had put Sera and Mira, Margaery's handmaidens to work creating the cloaks. They had finished them on the journey to Riverrun.
When Margaery entered, Jon heard Robb gasped quietly, and for good reason. The girl known as the Rose of Highgarden was breathtaking to look at. Her hair had been braided and put up to show off her heart-shaped face which had a minimal amount of makeup on. She wore a light green dress with white vines and flowers running down the fabric and was fashioned similar to the dresses she wore in the south that showed off her flawless skin and graceful figure. The Tyrell cloak she wore seemed to flow like a river of green and gold behind her as she was escorted forward by Garlan, who was dressed in his finery and looked proud to be at his sister's side.
When Margaery and Garlan were close, Robb stepped forward, folding his hands in front of him.
"Who is here to be married in the light of the Seven?" The Septon asked formally, starting the ceremony.
"Lady Margaery Tyrell," Garlan answered strongly. "Who is here to receive her?"
"Robb Stark of House Stark," Robb said firmly, taking a small step forward.
Garlan nodded and turned to his sister, giving her a small hug and giving her hand to Robb before joining his family.
Robb and Margaery, now hand in hand, moved to stand in front of the Septon, looking at each other with small smiles on their faces as they went through the ceremony. The septon blessed the couple in the light of the seven, making brief prayers to the Father, the Mother, the Warrior, the Maiden, the Smith, the Crone, and The Stranger.
The Septon had wanted to give the King in the North and his new bride a full wedding that would have involved singing and candles and other things that Jon found nonsensical. The old man had thought that he could convert the northern king to the 'true faith', but a private word from the Queen of Thorns had put the man in his place. It would be a simple ceremony, and the Septon was wise to keep it that way.
Finally, at the end of the priest's prayers, he had asked Robb to cloak his new bride. Garlan stepped forward and took the Tyrell cloak from Margaery's shoulders, folding it over his arm as Robb replaced it with his own, signifying that he was putting Margaery under his protection.
The couple said a few more words required by the Septon and kissed happily when prompted. The small group cheered happily for the newlyweds, filling the room with applause as Robb took Margaery's hand, walking her out of the sept with the others following close behind.
Line Break
The pie that had been baked for Robb's and Margaery's marriage had been excellent. The cook, having found out the night before the wedding, had been up most of the night figuring out the dishes that he would serve to the small party.
The first had been a meat pie, the traditional meal that served as the centerpiece for many highborn weddings throughout Westeros. The pies were usually filled with live birds that would have been released when the pastry was cut into, but that had been another tradition that the Queen of Thorns had done away with in the name of urgency.
Instead, the pie was filled with savory chicken and cooked vegetables smothered in a delicious gravy. Served with the pie had also been an assortment of cooked vegetables, crusty bread, and fresh fruit. The refreshments had been a mixture of black beer, a drink usually consumed in the North, and an Arbor wine that the late Hoster Tully had been storing for special occasions. All in all, it had been a perfect meal for the small party.
Jon pushed his plate away, feeling the slight discomfort of a full stomach. The combined families of Tullys, Tyrells, and Starks had been sitting around a circular table. Robb and Margaery sat next to each other, with Brynden and Loras on either side of them. Then it was Garlan, Edmure, and Roslin, with Jon and Olenna rounding out the table.
"I must say, I am surprised the man did not cook a single fish." Lady Olenna commented dryly.
Jon smiled. "I've been told that he hails from the Fingers and that he ate fish all the time as a child. He's very good at cooking it, but hates doing so."
The Queen of Thorns snorted lightly, taking a small bite from a fig. The old woman had demanded a platter of cheese, figs, and dates for herself. Given her fondness for the food, her demand had been smartly followed.
"I understand that you are heading North," Olenna said, looking at Jon.
Jon nodded. "I am," he said, his goodwill fading slightly. "My brother has put me in command of the northern lords."
"Most men would sound quite pleased with such a position," Olenna commented, noting the tone of reservation in the young warrior's voice. "Command of a significant portion of the king's host with an important task of saving the king's mother. Most men I know would kill for that position."
Jon tilted his head, glancing towards his brother, who was laughing quietly with his new bride. In the quick lead up to the wedding, Robb had come out of his shell of despair, a reward for Margaery's continued perseverance dragging Robb out. He now laughed and smiled like he used to. It made Jon happy to see his brother do so.
"I am honored that my brother has such confidence in me," Jon said slowly, turning back to look at the older woman. "But I can't help but think that there are others who are more worthy of leading the army. Lord Hawker, for instance."
"Ah, the War Eagle. Lord Tarly's long-lost twin." Olenna scoffed. "Did his grace give you a reason for putting you in command?"
Jon nodded quickly. "He said that he wanted me in the North to make sure Lady Stark is safe because he couldn't be there."
Lady Olenna patted Jon's arm lightly. "And there's the point you're missing," she said. "There are few people you can trust more than family. You are the king's brother, you were raised with the same morals, and you know what the king would do in certain situations."
Jon nodded, still hesitant. Olenna went on.
"What I am trying to say is that, while some men might do what's best for the army, you will do as your brother commands and make sure that Lady Stark is the main priority." She explained.
Jon nodded again, this time more firmly.
"Aye, that makes sense," he said quietly.
"Cheer up, my dour northman, you are more than capable of retaking the North." Lady Olenna said cheerfully, popping another fig into her mouth and swallowing. "You have a group of experienced warriors behind you. Don't forget it."
Jon snorted. "It'd be hard to when Lord Umber speaks. I'm sure they hear it at Castle Black." He joked.
"Have you thought about marriage yet?" Lady Olenna asked suddenly, catching Jon off guard as he went to take a drink.
The northern bastard nearly spit his beer out when he heard the question, but he managed to swallow what was in his mouth and look at the old woman who was looking back at him with an innocent look.
"What?" Jon sputtered.
Lady Olenna rolled her eyes. "There is some ice in there after all," she muttered before continuing. "Have you thought about marriage? As the brother to the king, it's safe to assume that you will be legitimized at some point. With a face like yours, I expect a line of women will be lining up to catch you."
Jon scoffed. "I've never thought about marriage," he admitted. "Never had to. Being a bastard saved me from that."
"Surely you must have at some point." Olenna pressed.
Jon shook his head. "Never," he replied. "For the past few years, I've been wanting to be a man of the Night's Watch. They don't take wives."
Olenna shrugged. "Perhaps it's time you start thinking about one," she commented, looking over her small platter of cheese, picking out what she would snack on next. "I'm sure my granddaughter can find you many girls from the Reach."
Jon laughed lightly. "I appreciate the thought, but I'd prefer a northern girl," he said before quickly adding. "No offense."
Olenna waved aside the apology. "None needed. I'm sure not many northmen would want a wife from the Reach after the debacle with the ex-Lord Mormont."
Jon raised an eyebrow. "Mormont? Do you mean Jeor Mormont?"
Olenna shook her head. "His son Jorah," she clarified. "The man won the Tournament of Casterly Rock and became a war hero during the Greyjoy Rebellion. He was quite popular and his eyes caught a Hightower girl, and hers caught him, and they married though it was doomed from the beginning."
Now Jon remembered the story. He had heard his father, Ser Rodrik, and Maester Luwin talk about it occasionally. Jorah Mormont had been one of the first through the breach at Pyke and had been knighted for it. He had then gone on to win the joust at Casterly Rock and had named Lynesse Hightower the Queen of Love and Beauty. Not long after, the man sold poachers into slavery, which resulted in him fleeing the North and from the block.
"He sold poachers into slavery to satisfy his wife, didn't he?" Jon asked.
Olenna nodded. "The Hightower girl had some rather expensive tastes and it drove the poor fool broke. If I am correct, the man is now a sellsword and the woman has married a prince in the Free Cities."
"Lady Margaery does not seem like the kind of girl who would drive Robb to do something like that," Jon commented.
Olenna nodded, smiling slightly as she looked at her granddaughter and new grandson. "Indeed. They are a rare couple. Their marriage already had love, to begin with. Not many have that, and many never develop it."
"She makes my brother very happy." Jon agreed with a smile. "After all that's happened, he deserves that much."
"And are you happy?" Olenna asked. Jon's smile faltered, something the old woman didn't miss.
"I am content," he replied, keeping his voice neutral. "When Joffrey has been defeated and the war is over, then I will be happy."
Like all northmen, Jon was a terrible liar and the Queen of Thorns saw right through his words. But, she decided to leave the topic alone, not wanting to make the young man more uncomfortable than she already had with her marriage question. She enjoyed playing with the White Wolf, but she knew that there were limits that she could go. He was a very good warrior, if the Blackfish was to be believed, and would give his life for his brother. That kind of loyalty did not come often. He would make a valuable asset to both Robb and Margaery in the future.
"Yes, the war." Lady Olenna said, dropping the subject of happiness. "With luck, no more enemies will appear and victory will soon be ours."
Jon nodded slightly. "I do not believe that the ironborn, nor the treasonous northerners will cause too much worry," he said quietly. "It's my brother going against Tywin Lannister that worries me."
Olenna nodded as well. "As it should. The man is ruthless and vile. I saw as soon as I met him and looked at those cold, green eyes. He's a man everyone should think twice about before facing in battle."
"Have a little faith, my lady," Robb said from across the table, a smile still on his face. "Lord Tywin has never faced me personally. I believe my brother once compared me to a cockroach. I am rather hard to get rid of." He said with a laugh.
Jon laughed as well. "We were boys, Brother," he pointed out. "I'm rather surprised you remembered that."
"It's one of the greatest compliments you've ever given me." Robb joked. "Jon, will you join me outside of a moment?"
Jon raised an eyebrow, the smile still on his face. He nodded and rose from his seat, nodding to Lady Olenna before following his brother out into the hallway. The two walked halfway up a flight of stairs where there was no one around.
"Is all well?" Jon asked curiously, worried that something had happened.
"Ser Brynden told me that my mother came to you in the Godswood before she went north. What did she want?" Robb asked.
Jon rubbed his jaw. "She asked me to protect you," he replied, leaving out that she had revealed her true emotions to Jon.
Robb sighed, shaking his head. "Of course she did," he said quietly. "Thank you for being honest."
"Is that why you asked me out here?" Jon asked.
Robb shook his head again. "No, I have a much different reason for this. As much as I hope to break Tywin's forces, I am well aware of the danger I am walking into."
Ice water ran down Jon's back.
"Robb, what are you trying to say?" He asked slowly, trying to keep the worry from his voice.
"Jon, on the desk in the lord's solar, there is a scroll addressed to you. You must take it with you when you go North. It is a copy of an order written and signed by me making you my heir should I be killed." Robb explained.
Jon took a step back down the stairs, looking up at his brother in shock. He struggled to speak, unsure of how to respond. When he was finally able to get words out, Robb stopped him before he could.
"I know what you are feeling," he said quietly. "But know that I have to do this. We don't know what happened to Bran or Rickon, but that is just one reason why I have named you my heir. If I fall against Tywin, the others can still rally around you and make sure that the Lannisters are defeated. It also helps that the men already know and respect you. Second, even if Rickon and Bran were alive, they would not be able to lead an army, let alone four kingdoms. They are too young. You would be able to fill in until either one of them was old enough to finally take their place." Robb stepped towards Jon, putting both hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eye. "Finally, you are my brother and I know that you will give your life before you let the Lannisters harm Margaery."
"Robb, I….I…."
Once again, Robb stopped him before he could speak. "Please Jon, do not say that you are unworthy or any of that nonsense. You are my brother, and you have always been my brother."
Jon hung his head, still trying to comprehend what his brother was asking him to do. It was like he was being asked to lead an army, but with ten times the stress because he was being asked to become king, a thought that had never once entered Jon's mind, not even when it was revealed to him that Rhaegar Targaryen was his father.
"Who else knows?" He asked quietly.
"Roland Hawker, Ser Brynden, Lady Olenna, and Bryce Caron, as well as myself and you, will have copies of my order," Robb explained. "This way, no one can dispute my claim."
Robb had come to Lady Olenna with the idea the night before the wedding. She was the one who had insisted on making sure that multiple people knew about the order. 'Never put all your eggs in one basket' was the phrase she had used.
Jon continued to look at his boots, still thinking over what Robb was telling him. Finally, after a moment, he looked up at his brother, his eyes had a purposeful gleam to them.
"I will do as you ask," he promised firmly.
Robb grinned, throwing an arm around Jon as they walked back towards the dinner. "Good to hear. I was afraid I was going to smack you in the head and make you see sense." he joked. "Hopefully, we'll never have to use the proclamation."
"Then you better not die," Jon responded, pausing for a moment before adding. "The same goes for me."