Bear Island isn't like anything Bran has seen before. Not that Bran has seen much, just Winterfell, Torrhen's Square, Castle Cerwyn and now Deepwood Motte. The village and seat of the Mormonts' are built in a natural harbor surrounded by sharp cliffs by all sides but the back which leads to the forest. On that side the village was fortified with a wall made of fifteen feet high tree trunks sharpened at the top. The village is sturdy and there is not one dress in sight even if most of the population is female at the moment. The men are obviously out fishing right now but there is no reason to imagine the village vulnerable, especially when Alysane Mormont stands on the deck to welcome them, short, chunky and muscular, dressed in mail, a tunic, breeches and cloak, a mace on her hip. But she is also smiling welcomingly and takes to the knee when Bran and Rickon got off the ship, Summer and Shaggy having already jumped to the deck.

"My Princes," she says respectfully. "Welcome to Bear Island. We were worried when we received lady Sybelle's raven about the ironborn attack and your flight. My sisters and I will be happy to host you until his Majesty comes to bring you back to Winterfell."

Bran sees the girls standing beside her. Lyra and Jorelle Mormont are women grown, both just under twenty, dressed like their older sister, but it was Lyanna Mormont who drew his attention. She still has a soft look about her, one that Bran is sure her sisters has once shared before fighting took it away, and still keeps her hair long, in a braid over her shoulder. She doesn't wear mail under her tunic which reaches her knees and iss more of a cross between a tunic and a dress than a simple tunic. It is something Arya would love and Bran hopes he could one day show his sister the design, or have Lyanna Mormont show it to her since men don't talk about… clothes.

"We are pleased to be here," answers Bran.

"Yeah, I don't like riding," Rickon agrees. "But ships are fun!"

Bran smiles down at him and turns back to the Mormonts. "We have lady Sybelle's children with us. I hope you don't mind hosting them too."

"Of course not, Glovers and Mormonts have worked together for hundreds years," Alysane tells them. "They are always welcome. And everyone knows Bear Island is probably the safest place during a war in the North. You shall all be safe here."

"Thank you," Bran smiles at her and glances at Lyanna again. She's about a year younger than him and knows if Lady Mormont gets her way, she will be his bride one day. He's not sure how he'd feel about it which surprises him because before this he'd never thought he'd even marry some day. Before his fall he'd always thought he'd join the Kingsguard and swear off taking a wife or if he wasn't good enough, he'd go to the Wall with uncle Benjen, like Jon had done. Now the best he can do is learn to handle a bow atop a horse and learn strategy. If Robb died (and Bran knew there was always the possibility) Rickon would have to work as his hands, be the body to his brain because there was no way he could go riding around beheading traitors and deserters. Bran didn't like thinking of Rickon having to kill anyone. Or Robb's possible death when it came to it.

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

Instructions come from Robb and the women of Bear Island send five of their sneakiest and quickest riders all around the western North to rescue children (heirs) from the ironborn in the next moon's turn. There are the three Tallharts, Eddara (the heir), Brandon (her heir) and Beren (the late Lady Hornwood's heir apparent) and the Flints of Flint's Finger gratefully sent their four youngest (Richard, Nan, Edwyle and Jon) to the safety of Bear Island.

Sometimes Bran watches the others train but he in fact doesn't really have time for that. He continues his studies in warging with Jojen and running around as Summer. He has the Mormonts' black smith forge the unicorn horn like he wanted and gifts the daggers as he pleases, to Osha, Meera, Jojen, Alysane, Eddara, Brandon, Beren and Richard. One of the long swords is put to safety for Rickon for a time until he is at least ten, and the other is kept in storage for Robb. Bran has the broadsword with himself all the time even if he knows he can never use it. But every evening Bran gathers the young ones, including Lyanna and Alysane's daughter Aelinor, and talks with them of their days. The oldest of his court, as Alysane had japed, was Brandon Tallhart, also called Bran by his brother and cousin, at six-and-ten. After Meera, that is, who is already nine-and-ten. The youngest is little Erena Glover followed by the five-year-old Jon Flint. Most of them don't remember to address him and Rickon as Princes but Meera and Jojen always correct them which soon rubs off on the younger children and later on the older ones as well. Still, every evening Bran gathers his little court and has them tell him of their day, easing the comradeship before everyone has relaxed and are talking and telling stories and laughing. The Flints of Flint's Finger have many stories of their older siblings and numerous cousins, the Tallharts never lack an amusing hunting story that may or may not be exaggerated, the Reeds join in with tales of greenseers and accounts of the southrons trying to find the Greywater Watch, the Mormonts keep to their stories of bear husbands and wildling raids and Bran and Rickon chip in with funny incidents that happened with their direwolves. Though the best evenings are those when Osha tells tales from beyond-the-Wall and has the children either laughing at a failed stealing or shivering with horror after a story of the Others. The most adorable thing happens one evening after another story from Osha about a failed stealing where the husband-wanna-be ended up covered in tar and feathers. Bran notices Rickon looking at the gathered children when his eyes landed on little Erena and he stood up. "We stole you from under the ironborn's noses and now I'm stealing you," he proclaims at the confused little girl and lifts her up and carries her to sit with Bran and himself, away from Gawen who doesn't know how to react. Everyone older though are laughing. "You can't start stealing brides until you're older, lordling," Osha tells Rickon, chuckling all the while. Rickon stubbornly held Erena's hand. "No, I stole her, now she's mine!" he shouts but as Erena patted his hand he calms down. "Yeth huthband," she says with lisp and a wide grin, leaning over to give Rickon a wet kiss on his cheek. Rickon's answering grin is just as wide.

But the news of Robb trickle in steadily and Bran frowns when he reads that Robb has married – and not the Frey girl he was supposed to. It is too late for that but Bran hopes Robb won't do anything stupid like walk into a trap. He is too far from Robb to effectively give advice and too young for Robb to take him seriously even if he would know Bran is right. Bran laments the fact that he is so young. Had he and Arya switched ages there might've been a chance Robb listened to him but not when he is the second youngest of six. It wouldn't matter if he was thirty because Robb would still be eight-and-thirty and still "know better" than his "young little brother." Rickon is now more convinced than ever that Robb and mother aren't coming back and has turned all his hopes to getting Sansa and Arya back, even if it is almost as unlikely, prisoners in King's Landing as they are.

Bran also comes to the unfortunate conclusion that they need more spies, permanent ones rather than scouts, but knows that every Northman would likely be killed in the capital or Westerlands. Maesters would be most useful but they take oaths and while some would be willing to break them, Bran knows very few Northmen that would, Septas too. Merchants are always welcome but North doesn't have much to offer in for of merchandise (if you don't count Skagos' jewels which Bran is sure are sold in small doses across the Narrow Sea). Servants would easiest but southron servants and northern servants are different. It would take a good deal of time to teach the northern servants well enough so that they wouldn't be noticed for their differences. And how could Bran even make sure they stayed loyal? Living somewhere and serving someone, you became fond of them no matter your past. It had been proven with Osha who had bonded with Bran and Rickon. Only if the master was truly terrible would there form no bond. Whores, while knowing many secrets of the high born lords, were more likely to use the secrets to their own advantages than their liege lords.

And all this is supposed to be Robb's problem but he is south making stupid ass decisions and winning victories that aren't actually strategically important. He should have marched North the moment he found out of Winterfell's sacking because that was the Stark seat of power and without it, Starks are just another family, a family that had admittedly been around for eight thousand years, but still just a family. And hadn't father always said that there must be a Stark in Winterfell? Well done indeed, Robb, get crowned the King in the North but be a King without a keep to return to. And Bran is getting a headache of all this thinking and reading. And the Others take the ironborn! They rebel every few decades and are always beaten down but now the Kingdoms are in such a state that the ironborn would have a longer rebellion than in centuries. And there were stories of dragons across the Narrow Sea, hatched by the Targaryen princess, Daenerys. Before, Bran had always wanted to see a dragon but he remembers the tales of Targaryen madness and hopes the dragon Princess would be happy with taking over the Free Cities rater than coming back to Westeros and avenging her mad family. It is unlikely but still, it couldn't hurt to hope.

Then comes the wedding invitation and Bran becomes instantly wary. It isn't likely the Freys would be happy to trade the King in the North for his uncle Edmure Tully, no matter his being the Lord of Riverrun and Bran prays Robb won't go, ignoring Osha's words about the Old Gods not having any power in the South. Still, hoping for the best, he writes to Robb and advises him not to go to the wedding. A week later he cries bitter tears when he sees Robb and Grey Wind in the crypt next to father's empty one. Rickon climbs into his bed and cries with him, asking Bran why Robb had gone south. If he'd just stayed at Winterfell, he wouldn't be dead, Bran, he wouldn't! Straight the following morning Bran visits the same blacksmith that had crafted the swords and daggers and gives him the last piece of the unicorn horn and commissions a winter crown of it, the tips inlaid with small blue sapphires and clear diamonds.

When the news reach them on Bear Island a week later, Bran sits in a high backed chair, Rickon standing by his side, Summer and Shaggydog beside them, and neither cries, just blink their tears back and their faces become cold masks. Bran speaks to the silent hall, telling them he'd commissioned a ceremonial crown should they want to crown him, as he is his brother's heir, but he would not insist upon it. Bran Tallhart shakes his head and take out his sword, laying it at Bran's feet and kneels.

"For eight thousand years the Starks have ruled the North justly and it is not unheard of for the ruling to befall the second son, your own Lord Father being the second son of Lord Rickard Stark. You may not be able to lead us personally in battle like his Majesty, but I've heard you talk strategy in both ruling and battle and I think you'd serve well as our King," he says clearly and Beren and Eddara nodded, following their brother and cousin to their knees.

Meera steps forward. "We already swore our fealty to your brother but now we swear fealty to, Brandon Stark, sixth of his name, King in the North," she takes to the knee and lays her three pronged spear at his feet, Jojen following her example.

"My sister died for your brother," Alysane says. "I might die for you, but I'll be proud to," she continues and lays her spiky mace at his feet and the rest of the Mormonts in the hall followed their de-facto lady to their knees. "No Mormont has ever taken to knee for anyone else but a Stark. Not I nor my children or sisters will be the first to kneel for Boltons, Baratheons or Lannisters."

Richard, lacking a sword, takes out the dagger Bran had given him. "If my life or death may protect you, you will have it," he says and slashes his palm with the dagger. "I may not be able to swear my house to you, but I swear myself to your service, until my last breath." He lays the bloodied dagger at Bran's feet. The rest of the Flints don't make any vows but that is understandable as Edwyle and Jon were eight and five respectively and Nan is a girl.

Little Gawen Glover smiles widely as he took to the knee, not really understanding what is going on but everyone else are kneeling in front of Bran so why not him too. Besides, Bran is nice, as is Rickon, even if he stole Erena, and they had direwolves! How cool is that? He doesn't say anything but lays his toy war hammer at Bran's feet, like everyone else.

Rickon doesn't really understand what's going on either. The last time he saw everyone kneel was at Winterfell when that fat man that took father, Sansa and Arya away, came. But now these people are calling Bran King and kneeling for him. Rickon felt like things had just gotten harder for his brother but he also remembers mother telling him he should always kneel for the King, so he kneel beside Bran, looking up at his brother, sitting on the chair where Hodor had sat him.

"You just made my job a hell of a lot harder, little King," Osha complains as she too kneels, bringing Hodor with her, she too laying the dagger Bran gave her at his feet. They are the last in the hall to kneel.

"Well," Bran blinks. He hadn't actually expected them to accept him. He wasn't taught the words to accept these kinds of oaths. "May your oaths hold as long as the Wall has stood and may your blades help you keep your honor." Those are things Northmen could understand. And they are also things linked to the Starks. Bran the builder had built the Wall eight thousand years ago and the Starks were known for their honor, it shouldn't be weird for Bran to accept their oaths with such words. "You may rise."

"The King in the North!" Meera shouts and jumps to her feet.

"The King in the North!" the others join her.

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

"Rickon, could you run to the smith and ask if he's done with the crown?" Bran asks and Rickon nods and runs out of the hall, Shaggy on his heels.

"I guess the first order of business is to open communication with the rest of Robb's host. Thing is, with most of the ironborn raiding the North, it should be fairly simple to take over the islands, if we had enough ships. I know Bear Island has some ship but not enough and we don't have the time to build a fleet. But the ironborn can't carry their ships to the inland so they have to be somewhere along the coast. It might be craven but if we take over those ships we would also trap the ironborn on land where they might be fierce warriors but their might lies in their ships. And we have to secure the North before we can think of returning to fight the Lannisters. We also have the threat of the Others in the North. Wildlings are fleeing them to the south of the Wall and we can't fight all of them. We will have to treat with them, probably sooner rather than later. I don't want to leave the Riverlands to defend themselves but the neck is easy to close and defend should Lannisters try marching to the North. We could always let the sourthrons march in the North and let the Winter do its job but that would cause problems for the smallfolk. If we had the Iron Isles under our control, we could have them raid Westerlands and siphon Lannister goods, maybe the Reach too. I don't want to anger Dorne so we should stay clear from them. The Vale… has remained neutral and it seems like it shall remain so for a while yet. Stormlands are firmly Baratheon lands, or they had been until Renly was murdered. They don't like Stannis there and Renly left no heir so they are just floundering. I would also like to send an envoy to Daenerys Targaryen so that should she ever turn here, we would already have some kind of understanding of her character and how to deal with her," Bran outlines his plan.

"Your Grace, our cousin, Jorah, is with her," Alysane says instantly. "He fled after he was caught selling poachers to slavers."

"A royal pardon then, an open invitation to come home, but an encouragement to remain with Daenerys as an envoy," Bran says thoughtfully. "The man must be desperate to come home. Even if he doesn't stay with Daenerys he could very well have information of her. Though he would be relegated to the position of a second son rather than regaining his position as the Lord of Bear Island as Lady Maege has more than made up for his absence and I don't want slavers as my bannermen."

Alysane smiles. "I shall compose and send a letter post haste, your Grace," she bows and gestures for Lyra to take her place as she leaves to fill the first order King Brandon gave.

This is when Rickon runs back to the hall, brandishing the white crown in his hand. "It's ready Bran! The smith gave it to me to give to you!" he shouts happily as he skids to a stop, holding the crown out to Bran.

Lyra Mormont takes the crown before Rickon has a chance to give it to Bran and looks it over. "It's made of the same metal as those daggers you've given out and I like the way it's mostly white but where did you get those jewels? They must've cost a pretty penny."

"Let me tell you all a trade secret," Bran says with a wicked smile. "The Lannisters aren't the richest great house. There is a place somewhere in North that has jewels like stones on the ground. I'm not going to tell you which part of the North it is but because to them the gems are just colorful stones, they are happy to pay their taxes in these."

Everyone in the hall are staring at Bran in disbelief.

"It's true!" Rickon comments. "There was this huge room full of those shiny things at Winterfell. Then Bran had all those rooms locked after we were done on that one room, but there were more than twenty rooms." He's learned his numbers up to twenty now and Bran couldn't have been prouder.

Bran shrugs. "Like I said, they pay their taxes like this. Have paid for thousands of years. So we have the money for this war and Winter if we can take back Winterfell. But the first step is communication with the host and taking over the Iron Isles. The Boltons are next and then the Wall. But should the Wall need us immediately, we'll dispatch all the men we can."

"And announcing your ascendance to the rest of the Northern houses so that they won't rally to the Boltons, or something equally stupid, your Grace," Bran Tallhart reminded him. "The Umbers and Karstarks and Manderlys might declare for the Boltons if they have no other choice."

"Also send word to Castle Black," Bran said. "They no longer work in the Seven Kingdoms but in the Free and Independent Kingdom of the North and while I understand that they will take no part in politics, I would feel better if the Lord Commander swore an oath. And every new recruit from south will have to swear off any other crown."

The Maester in the hall agrees and hurries off to write those letters.