Where Jon kneels before his king.
JON IX
They saw the smoke long before the city became visible. Their scout reported that the city belonged to Stannis, but it was also burning. Still, it unsettled for Jon to see the smoke rise from such a long distance. When they were finally close enough to see the battlements, the day was coming to an end, and when they looked at the city they could see shades of orange and red, shades that were not caused by the setting sun.
They were welcomed by a group of knights led by a certain Ser Justin Massey, who rode to them as they were approaching the city. As soon as they met, he told Robb and Ser Brynden, who commanded the Riverlands troops who traveled to King's Landing with them, that they had to make camp right there and to not approach the city further, for fires were ravaging it. He also commanded the Lord of Winterfell and the Blackfish to accompany him for the king had to talk with them immediately.
And so they rode, but not toward the city. They had arrived by the north, Stannis' army was stationed west of the city. They circled it. As they rode by, Jon saw the damage to a part of the walls and felt a horrible smell. Ser Justin told them the city was burning. How many bodies might be decomposing right now within these walls? Everyone said there was over half a million people inside these walls.
Jon remembered the time he spent at Casterly Rock, and the few visits he made to Lannisport while he lived there. The city was well organized, with clean streets and houses aligned in order. No foul smell. Not that Lannisport had no odour, but Jon had only found it odd at the beginning, and then pleasant for a short time before he got accustomed to it. Nothing to see with what he was seeing and smelling today. Also, he didn't really have the impression that King's Landing was a bigger city than Lannisport. Lannisport had about a hundred thousand people living within its walls, while King's Landing had five times more people. How could life be in such a cramped space?
With Robb and the Blackfish rode not only Jon, but also Lord Galbart Glover, Ser Wylis Manderly, Lord Jason Mallister and Lord Clement Piper. Robb had picked the lords who were the less likely to cause problems in Stannis' presence. After they had learned the city was already fallen, some lords, especially among the northern ones, complained that they should never have headed south and should have kept pursuing the Lannisters instead, or gone back home to deal with the Greyjoy threat. The mood was not a happy one in the Stark encampment these days. People wanted to go back home and deal with the Ironborn invasion, or at least fight the real enemy, House Lannister. During a discussion he had with Gregor Forrester, the Lord of Ironrath told Jon that the Northerners are not fighting for Stannis. They are fighting the Lannisters. They are not fighting to put Robert's brother on the Iron Throne. They are fighting to kill the people who murdered Lord Eddard Stark.
They arrived at the outskirts of Stannis' camp, where they unhorsed.
"What do you think we should expect?" Jon asked his brother as they walked through the camp, some people stopping their work to look at them as they passed near them.
"To meet a king. I just hope he's not too angry that we missed the battle."
"It doesn't matter much," the Blackfish told them. "He won it, and he didn't face enough enemies to need us."
"What do you think will happen now?" Jon asked.
"The best course of action would be to invade the Westerlands by the south. I suppose the king will bring us all in the Reach," the Blackfish answered.
Jon approached his brother so only he would hear his words. "What are we gonna do for Winterfell?"
"We will see it with the king."
It didn't relieve Jon. Their homeland was invaded by the Ironborn, Winterfell had been burned, and Bran and Rickon...
They received the news only a few days ago. A rider from Harrenhal rode tirelessly to reach them with the news. Bran and Rickon were dead. Ramsay Snow had been besieging the castle when the Ironborn put it to the torch and tried to escape. The prisoners they took confessed that Bran and Rickon were burned by Theon long ago. His own men killed him when they turned on him at the end of the siege. His body wasn't found, no more than Bran's or Rickon's, lost in the fires. They wouldn't even be able to bury them.
How could Theon do something like that? How could he kill two children? Rickon had barely been eight-years-old. Betray them, follow his family and his house, that Jon could understand, that was his family after all. If Jon had been the one to live as a ward at Pyke, he would certainly have betrayed the Greyjoys, but to kill two innocent children, burning them furthermore? What kind of monster lived under their roof for all these years? Theon had eaten with them, played with them, trained with them. How could he do such a thing? The question kept coming again and again. Betrayal was everywhere. They couldn't seem to trust anyone.
Jon couldn't see much difference between the king's pavilion and the other tents in the camp, aside from the fact it was bigger. They walked into it and came face to face with a tall man, dressed for war, with a square jaw, grayish hair, and piercing eyes. He was talking with another man when they entered, but they stopped right away.
"Your Grace," said Robb going on his knee, followed by everyone in the tent."
With a movement of hand, Stannis Baratheon ordered them to stand up. Jon looked at him more closely. People could have expected some resemblance with King Robert, but there was none. If he wasn't told, he would never have thought this man was the brother of Robert Baratheon. He seemed more like a warrior though. Only looking at the man's stance, Jon had no trouble believing his father when he told them Stannis Baratheon was a battle commander.
"You're Robb Stark, Ned Stark's son." Jon wasn't sure if it was a question the king asked his brother, but Robb answered nonetheless.
"Yes, your Grace."
Stannis looked at him for a moment, nodded, then turned his gaze to Jon. "When you walked in here, I almost thought it was you. You look like him when he was younger. Who are you?"
Taken aback, Jon straightened himself. "My name is Jon Snow, your Grace."
"Hm. The Bastard of Winterfell. Your father was an honorable man." He turned back his gaze to Robb. "Your father told me of the Lannister's treachery. I regret his death." He turned away and positioned himself on the other side of a table where a huge map of Westeros was laid. "You came late. I was counting on the forces of the Riverlands and the North to take the city."
"We received your order too late, your Grace. By the time we had it, you were almost at the city gates," Robb explained.
"No matter, the city is taken, now I have to make sure all the Seven Kingdoms obey to their king. We won't waste time here. The armies of the Reach are on the move since the death of Loras Tyrell. They threaten both King's Landing and the Stormlands and represent most of the rebel forces. We will march tomorrow to Highgarden. From there, we'll be able to attack the Lannisters by the south where they are vulnerable. Ser Brynden Tully, you're the most seasoned warrior in this tent. What do you think of it?"
The Blackfish approached the map on the table. "It can work, as long as you leave sufficient garrisons in Riverrun and King's Landing. The Tyrells have the biggest army in Westeros and the Lannisters have the one with the best military equipment. This will be no easy task."
"I didn't expect it to be easy, but it must be done."
"Your Grace," Robb stepped in, "with all your respect, I request your permission to send half of my men back in the North to face the invasion of the Ironmen."
"That is not something I can allow. Your men are needed here, right now."
"They are also needed in the North, your Grace. The Greyjoys have invaded our lands. Deepwood Motte has fallen, Torrhen's Square, Moat Cailin, even Winterfell. Two of my brothers are dead, slaughtered by Theon Greyjoy. Villages are burned to the ground, children are slaughtered, the wives of my men are being raped."
"Just like it happens in all wars and conflicts since the dawn of humanity. I don't want the North to suffer, and you can consider my house has some degree of responsibility in that since it was Robert who spared Balon Greyjoy after the last rebellion. If he had listened to me, the Greyjoys would no longer be a problem. But my brother never listened to me, and so here we are. Still, I won't let your men go. They are needed to fight the other traitors. Your father swore an oath, and you swore an oath as well, Lord Stark, to serve your king and lend him your help whenever he needed it. Well, the time has come. I need your help to end this rebellion and deal with the traitors who killed your father. Then we will deal with the Iron Islands, and this time I will not spare a single Greyjoy."
This king wouldn't be moved, Jon could see that. Robb had been pushed by his bannermen to demand that the king allow a part of their army to go back home to face the Ironborn threat. Galbart Glover especially, whose castle had been taken by Yara Greyjoy, the very daughter of Balon Greyjoy and Theon's sister, and whose wife and children were being held as prisoners, put pressure on Robb on that point. He had been supported by half of the northern lords, especially those ruling the lands in the western part of the North, such as the Forresters, the Cerwyns and the Mormonts. Even Lord Umber, Robb's staunchest supporter, was of the opinion that they should let lords whose lands were threatened go back home while the others would keep fighting the Lannisters in the south. Roose Bolton had approved the Greatjon, and even Ser Wylis thought it might be a good idea as they didn't have enough men on their own to repel the invaders. Robb had finally given in, but the king just flatly refused to let a part of his army go home. Lord Glover was obviously furious, and Ser Manderly silently disapproved.
"Your Grace, with all your respect I cannot do that. I am the Warden of the North, and as such I am bound to protect the North."
"You are Warden of the North because I allow you to be it. I could choose whoever else I want to replace you, Robb Stark. And don't tell me the Northerners cannot face bands of pirates who only know to fight on the seas."
"Bands of pirates?" almost roared Lord Glover. "These bands of pirates, like you call them, have seized entire castles. My home has been taken and my family is being held up in hostage. For what I know, the same fate than Brandon and Rickon Stark may be awaiting them."
"And if one of my bannermen in the Stormlands had seen his family captured by pirates of the Stepstones and his castle seized by them, I would just give him the same orders I just gave you, Lord Glover. If you're not happy with it, then just tell me when you're ready to become a traitor and I'll make sure everyone sees you as an example of how I deal with traitors."
The Lord of Deepwood Motte was fuming. "Lord Glover, stay out of this. I'll handle this," Robb told him. "Your Grace, you are the king, we will do as you say, but don't expect the North to be able to send you any more men in the future for this war."
"I don't need more men in the future, and certainly not those in the North. I need your men who are here, right now." He stepped forward and looked into Robb's eyes. "Your father was an honorable man. He never turned his back to his king. I expect you to be just as honorable as he was. I'll be waiting for you at dawn. We'll talk further about the march ahead of us. You're dismissed, Lord Stark."
They were about to leave, after Robb took his time to bow before Stannis, but when he turned his heels, he was called back by the king.
"Wait. I have something to show you first."
Two men came in, carrying a huge chest. They opened it. Jon moved to get a better view of what was inside. There were three heads.
They had not been dead for a long time, judging by their state. Jon would say they had been dead for a few days, maybe a week at most. They were not disfigured enough so that he wouldn't recognize them, despite the fact he only saw them shortly when they visited Winterfell. On the left end, Joffrey's head, with short blond hair. It was hard to judge because of the decay, but he seemed to have an expression of horror on his face. There were red traces around his mouth, as if he spat blood before he died. Jaime Lannister's bead was in some better state. The way the heads were positioned, you could see the resemblance between the father and the son. As for the queen, strands of her long hair remained. Jon was surprised by how well her face was preserved, as if she only died today, though there was soot and dust in some places. Joffrey Baratheon, Jaime Lannister and Cersei Lannister, the people behind his father's death, were dead.
"As you can see, Lord Stark," Stannis declared, "I don't lose time dealing with traitors."
The way back to their own camp was long and silent. As soon as they unhorsed inside the perimeter, Lord Glover approached Robb, obviously angry. "My lord, this is unacceptable. We cannot just abandon our homes and our lands..."
"Lord Glover, if you want to talk about this, we won't do it here. Follow me."
Galbart Glover followed Robb. His brother made a sign to Jon to follow him, and also to the Blackfish. Jon ended walking side by side with the brother of Catelyn Stark.
"You've met Stannis Baratheon before?" Jon asked him.
"Yes, I have. He's not changed a bit. He was already like this years ago. Bitter, direct, not the kind to pat you on the shoulder. But he's a fair man, and one of the best military commander in the Seven Kingdoms. If someone can conquer the Westerlands and the Reach with one single army, that's him."
"But he needs our men?"
"He needs as many men as possible. Even the best military mind must use every tool available to his advantage. Stannis is not the kind of man who goes to war blindfolded. Unlike Robert, he doesn't rush on the enemy at first sight. He's calculating, and will always choose the option that yields the highest probability of victory. And, I'm sorry to tell you that, but he's not as honorable as your father was."
They arrived at the tent. Lord Glover spat what he had on the heart before Jon and Ser Brynden could join them inside. "The king's orders are madness. We're going to spend years invading the western kingdoms while the Ironborn plunder our lands and live in our castles."
"Don't think I'm not as mad as you are, Lord Glover," Robb replied, calmly but with an obvious anger he tried to control. "Your home is occupied, mine was burned to the ground. Your family is being kept hostage, my two brothers are dead. I know very well what you feel, because I feel the same way that you do."
"In this case, what are you going to do?"
Robb didn't reply for a moment. "Stannis is the king."
"Aye, and you are the Lord of Winterfell. We didn't follow him to war. We followed you. So, I ask you again, my lord, what are you going to do?"
"I need to talk to all of my bannermen, not only to you, Lord Glover. Come back in an hour, then we shall discuss all together."
"As you wish, my lord," the Lord of Deepwood Motte finally said, leaving afterwards.
"It is hard to follow a king who brings you far from your home when it is in danger," the Blackfish said after he was gone.
"Aye, I know. But we cannot disobey him. He's the king."
"Aye, he's the king. And you're the Lord of Winterfell, Robb. Don't ever forget that."
Ser Brynden Tully walked out as well, leaving Robb and Jon alone.
"You think we should not follow the king?" Jon asked to his brother.
"I would rather not, but if I disobey Stannis, what will keep my own bannermen from disobeying my every order? And there are still Lannisters alive out there. Joffrey, Cersei and the Kingslayer were not the only ones who had a hand in Father's death."
Jon had to agree with Robb on the first part, though he wasn't sure that other Lannisters played a role in their father's downfall, especially after his discussion alone with Mira and the things Lady Stark told them when she returned from the Stormlands.
"Bran and Rickon..." Robb said their names with difficulty. "They're both dead. Sansa is not here. She's still a prisoner of the Lannisters." Ser Justin Massey had told them while they rode to Stannis' encampment. "We just lost our two brothers, Jon. We have to keep fighting for Sansa. This is the only way we can get her back. The Lannisters will never free her."
Jon knew, deep down, that it was true. Stannis would never negotiate with the Lannisters and, although Jon had enough trust left in Lord Tyrion and his wife to treat her kindly, much better than Joffrey ever did, and to keep her safe, they would never let her go as long as Stannis fought them... and as long as the Starks and the Tullys would fight for Stannis. Sansa might be the sibling he liked the less, she remained his sister. He thought of Arya who stayed at Riverrun. She was safe, and with her mother. Sansa was not. They had no choice. They had to fight for Stannis.
Late in the night, Robb convened all his bannermen. They were too many to hold inside the command tent, so they made their council outside, with the glow of King's Landing's fires at the horizon. He told them the king's orders, which didn't please most people there, especially those from the North. The river lords were less hostile. Their spirits got a little better when Robb showed them the heads of the Lannisters.
"I know it's been a hard time you lately. It's been a hard time for all of us," Robb continued. "We are far away from our homes, our lands have been ravaged, plundered, taken away for some us. Some lost their home, and their family are in danger. My family is in danger as well, and I already lost a lot me too. My brothers Brandon and Rickon are both dead, murdered by a man that I considered like a friend. My sister Arya was given back to me, but Sansa is still in the hands of the Lannisters. But I'm not about to abandon. I didn't lower my arms when they imprisoned my father, nor when they killed him. I didn't give up when my two sisters then my two brothers were made prisoners, nor when they got killed. I didn't abandon when my home was burned down. You didn't either, and I thank you for that. You followed me because you believed in our cause, just like I did. I still believe in it. The Lannisters killed my father, Lord Eddard Stark, your lord, and although some of them are dead, many are still alive, and they want their revenge just as much as we want ours. I am not going to let them have it. I'm not going to give up. I will never bow, and I will never kneel before a Lannister."
Many lords who were present approved. Lord Karstark was one of the most eager, followed not long after by Lord Umber. Even Lord Glover nodded in approval. Roose Bolton was as quiet as ever, showing no reaction and listening attentively.
"I do not command you to follow me. I do not demand that you follow me. I ask you to follow me. If you don't, then go home and fight the Ironborn. All that matters is that we fight the enemies of the North, whoever they are."
Again, they all approved. Jon agreed as well. Maybe that wasn't what Stannis wanted, but after all if Robb's bannermen walked away from their own free will, he couldn't blame Robb as much as if Robb decided to leave himself. It was this or to fear a rebellion among his bannermen. And right now, none of them seemed ready to leave. Even Lord Glover didn't raise. In fact, it was someone totally unexpected who stood up first: Jon Umber.
"Lord Stark is right. We must fight the enemies of the North. We must follow Robb Stark." The lords roared in approval, even those from the Riverlands. "But why should we follow Stannis?"
The silence that fell afterwards was as thick as stones. Everyone listened, intrigued, surprised. Roose Bolton looked more interested. Robb looked stunned, just like Jon was.
"Eighteen years ago, it wasn't Robert Baratheon we followed to war. It was Eddard Stark we followed, and he who led us. When Balon Greyjoy rebelled, it was not Robert either that we followed. It was Lord Stark, again. And it wasn't Stannis we followed in this war. It was you, my lord." He turned towards Robb. "Twice you've defeated the Lannisters. Twice you made them leave with their tail between their legs." Many people laughed. "The only reason you didn't give them the final blow is because of Stannis. The first time, he forbade us from approaching King's Landing, from attacking it, ordered us to hold the Lannisters within the Riverlands. In the meantime, where was this king? In the Stormlands, murdering his own brother. Making himself a kinslayer."
Disgust and anger were plain on everyone's face. "And then, when we threw Stafford Lannister from Riverrun, Stannis called us to King's Landing. Twice we could have given a crucial blow to House Lannister, and twice Stannis kept us from doing so. All he could do in the meantime was to take an empty city, a city that is now burning."
Lord Umber looked at the red lights of fire in the south. "This is not our capital. This is not our city. These are not the people we fight for. They don't have the same gods, the same laws, they do not think like us. We bowed to the dragons. The dragons are gone. Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again?"
He turned again to look at Robb. For a long moment, Lord Umber eyed him. And Jon understood just before he drew his sword what was happening right now, in the outskirts of King's Landing, at the dawn of the three hundredth year after Aegon's Conquest.
"There is only one king I know, and he's standing right in front of me. The King in the North."
The Lord of the Last Hearth went on his knees, his sword planted into the ground. Some lords didn't seem to believe what was just said. Jon looked at his brother. He didn't react, and Jon neither did.
A soft voice spoke then. "Lord Umber speaks true. Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again?"
Roose Bolton drew his sword and went on his knee as well. "You are my king, Robb Stark."
He said it without emotion, the same way he always said everything. Jon failed to understand for a moment. Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, descending from the family who fought House Stark for centuries, just declared Robb to be his king.
"The King in the North," a female voice followed, drawing her sword as well. Maege Mormont raised it.
"The King in the North!"
"The King in the North!"
"The King in the North!"
The outcries added up with the swords that were drawn. Soon all the Lords of the North were hailing Robb as their king, and the river lords who were present joined them against all odds. Jon looked at the scenery before him. He turned to his brother who looked at him in an uncertain way.
And Jon remembered something their lord father used to tell them, when he talked about Torrhen Stark who knelt before Aegon three centuries ago. A Stark could kneel, but he can always rise back, stronger. Jon drew his sword and knelt before his brother, his king.
Jon knelt before his king, but perhaps not the one you were expecting. I hope I succeeded to create some kind of surprise, even though it happens in the canon in different circumstances.
So, Robb is now King in the North (again), but this time with Jon at his side, and the enemy in front of him is not Tywin Lannister this time. And technically speaking, this is a War of Five Kings (no, six : Joffrey, Stannis, Renly, Balon, Tommen, Robb). If a certain King Beyond the Wall makes it through the Wall, it will be seven.
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Next chapter : Jon (again)
The next chapter may take some time to come out because I want to upload it along with a few other chapters at the same time. The next upload will probably take place in three-four weeks.
