The original idea was an one-shot about Jon having to kill a possessed Bran, where the Children of the forest were behind the Others and everything, but I took the story going forward and decided to focus on Jon as king, his relationship with other kingdoms, and founding a new family. This story is quite advanced already, so wait for more chapters to come. They are much lighter than the first one, though.
Disclaimer: I do not own ASOIAF or its adaptations, GRRM rules all that.
ENJOY!
CHP. 2
Although Jon Snow couldn't find much of a purpose to live after the beheading of his little brother, he did it anyway. Long years, enough to see the face of his great-grandchildren.
He had marked his name in history, after all. As a Lord Commander of the Night's Watch; a friend of the Free Folk; a Lord of Winterfell; as King in the North; as a bastard. Though he ended up acquiring many names throughout his years.
The citadel referred to him as 'The Bastard'. The other kingdoms referred to him as 'The White Wolf'. The northerners got used to calling him 'The Old Ghost', at least on his later years of rule. It didn't matter to him, much. He still felt as Jon Snow, even if that definition changed each year.
His first year of rule was relatively peaceful. Most houses approved of his claim, partly because they were the ones to press it, and he had turned uncertain allies into loyalists.
House Umber agreed on almost every command that the King in the North would issue; House Manderly would make sure that no scheme to undermine him would even come to practice; House Karstark reaffirmed their loyalties and would be content to say that they shared the same blood.
Though on the twelfth month of his rule, a council was called to discuss an important matter, and this time Jon was strongly outnumbered.
"We DON'T have the men!" he had said in frustration.
That seemed like the wrong choice of words, though, for the anger arose from within his vassals like he proposed to honour Ramsay Snow's memory by giving his name to the unborn heir.
"We have enough!" ruffed Greatjon Umber. The man could be as stubborn as a mule when he wanted too.
Jon sighed deeply, closing his eyes. It wasn't true. Their numbers were so scarce after the War for the Dawn that Jon feared that other kingdoms would invade, or maybe a host from the Free Cities would subdue them and get a hold of the North. The garrison of Winterfell was especially damaged. Men and women from Wintertown were asked to move into the castle to help on duties. They couldn't wage war so soon.
"M'lords, please."
The calm and collected voice of Ser Davos Seaworth was a blessing to the king's ears when the noise got too loud. With few words he managed to ease the tension, with a jape here and a level-headed comment there. Jon knew he would have given up his throne by now if the man hadn't accepted to become his Hand; sort of. More like most trusted advisor.
"We cannot create conflict with enemies that aren't ours." Jon said, slowly.
Beside him, devouring a chicken's leg like it had offended him, Tormund Giantsbane questioned why. Jon ignored him.
"But they ARE our enemies, your grace." answered Wyman Manderly.
Jon couldn't really tell him otherwise. The Freys, and their Red Wedding, had created lots of enemies around Westeros. Some thought they were scum who should be punished by the gods for forsaking the guests' rights. Others were much more direct. They lost people at the wedding, and wanted revenge.
From the end of the Hall, a man stood up and started to walk towards the dais. He kneeled in front of the King, eyes on the stone floor.
"My king, the Freys have been enemies of the North since before their vile betrayal. The Neck was never safe from that family. I beg you we answer this call for help."
Howland Reed had been a close friend and confidant of his father, Eddard Stark. He knew secrets that had the latter wanted to keep most secret. Jon had taken a liking to the Lord of Greywater Watch as well, for he helped Jon get back on his feet.
'He never intended to marry someone else then. He wasn't the heir. And didn't choose to be. Yet he took his duty, and did what was required, even if the whole world saw something born of love as a token of dishonour.' The man had said. He then looked Jon dead in the eye and asked: 'Do you want to know her name?'
Jon had wanted that for as long as he could remember. His mother, his loving noble mother with a sweet smile and kind heart. The woman his father had loved. Yet, Jon thought, he never told me her name.
The smile Howland Reed gave him after he refused had been comforting.
"Excuse my boldness, Your Grace, but the Riverlands suffered a lot these past years. Your brother, King Robb, and Tywin Lannister tore it to pieces whilst fighting their wars. That wretched man, Lord Baelish, did little to rebuild or restore the situation. Now the Freys wage war amongst themselves." the Onion Knight told him.
When Jon's shoulder slumped slightly, almost admitting defeat, the man's eyes turned softer.
"The North is also responsible for what happened down there, even if it suffered greatly. It is your duty to help restore it." He finished and Jon almost cursed his name. Bloody duty. Davos spoke true, of course. But Jon was mad, anyway.
Jon opened his mouth to answer, but a screeching noise from within the centre of the Hall caught his attention.
The man who was now standing tall was Ser Brynden Tully, also known as the Blackfish. He had been the one to request The King of Winter's aid in retaking Riverrun and the control of the RIverlands.
"Your grace," he said firmly. "I understand your concerns. Many of us do. But they also don't have the men to oppose you. Ever since Walder Frey died, his sons have been fighting amongst themselves. If we strike soon, they won't stand a chance."
The man was proud, Jon could see. He wasn't happy asking for help. Though he had aided them in the war against the Others. He had appeared on Winterfell soon after Jon conquered it, presenting himself as Axel the Swimmer, an old squire that never got to be knighted. He offered Jon his sword, and desperate as he was, the bastard took it.
The man had been a huge addition to their ranks. He trained green boys and even grown man; skills almost unmatched. When Sansa appeared on the castle, Jon saw his lingering glances at her and the smile that followed and thought the man a creep, asking her sworn shields to watch him. When he revealed his real identity, Jon understood why. Sansa was becoming more and more like Catelyn, his niece.
Now he wanted Jon to return the favour, though not in its proper proportions.
Jon sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "Say we end up successful. We assault Riverrun or the Twins. We win the war. What then?" he asked, scratching his beard. Maybe he should shave.
"Are you asking for me to pledge the Riverlands to the Kingdom of the North?"
Jon didn't mean to offend, really. But it was an issue that had to be discussed. Being rid of the Freys didn't mean that all problems would be solved. Who would rule next? Jon would like to know the answer.
"No." he answered simply.
He heard Davos sighing beside him. "Lord Brynden, what we need to know is what are the plans after House Tully regains control of the Riverlands. IF you wish to bend the knee to King Jon, we must see it through. If you have another idea, then you should speak it. We need to know where we will stand, after the war." he explained.
Ser Brynden's anger seemed to lessen. Silence reigned for a while before he spoke. Eyes hard.
"What do you suggest?"
The question was directed at Jon. The king looked at his bronze crown, resting atop the table. He had no claim on the ancestral home of House Tully, neither was he love or respected by the riverlords. There seemed that only one option remained.
"I think it's time the Riverlands see a Tully king. It's been millennia since someone held the title of King of the Trident. Old powers and old titles have been rising lately," he could see his words made many men shiver, though he kept his voice steady. "maybe it's time for that one to resurface again."
Greatjon Umber barely mumbled, something along the lines of 'like father like damn son'. Wyman Manderly sighed, though not surprised. Alysane Mormont had a smile on her face.
When Jon's eyes met Ser Brynden's, the usual hard look wasn't there, and regret seemed to swim in his deep blue irises.
"Anyone here disagrees?" the king made his voice rumble, and although some small complaints were whispered, no one stood to oppose his decision. "This is my idea." he finished.
Ser Brynden took a deep breath before speaking, his tone much softer than before. "A good one.".
Jon then looked around, all men eager-faced and ready for his decision.
"Gods take you all! Stubborn fools, that's all you are. Can't stay put, can you!?" no one answered his taunts. He pinched the bridge of his nose before announcing: "Let's kill some Freys."
A roar of applause and cheers erupted on the Great Hall. They had fought so much and yet these hard bastards were thirsty for blood. Even if it was the disgusting kind.
"BUT," he yelled, catching everyone's attention. They all eyed him curiously. "REMEMBER THIS! We are helping allies. Friends. This is no revenge spree. Do you hear me? We will deliver justice."
Everyone nodded, smirking. Jon didn't believe them one bit.
After they all calmed down and sat, Ser Davos raised his hand to speak: "We still need to know who will sit the throne."
Jon nodded, eyes darting to the riverman on his court. Ser Brynden raised his voice a bit, when saying: "I don't desire a crown or lands, truly. Never did. But my nephew, Edmure, is not ready to rule. He wouldn't be able to, even if he wanted. He is a captive at Casterly Rock."
"So, who would be your heir?"
"I could marry." Answered the knight, though Jon had heard the stories.
"What if we somehow get your nephew freed?" he voiced his question.
"Then I would gladly have him as my heir. He has a son, a young boy named Hoster. His line would sit the throne, instead of mine. But only after I teach him everything I can." The Blackfish answered. "Though I don't think that the Lannisters will let go him. His claim on Riverrun is a threat to Emmon Frey, who currently holds the castle. He is the husband of Genna Lannister, so I doubt that they would forsake her for us." he finished, sounding almost hopeless.
Jon eyed maester Samwell and grinned. Maybe not for free.
"I might have a plan for that, but you will have to act on mercy." Jon told him, which earned him a burrowed frown from the old knight. "Don't worry for now, I will tell you if we have a chance of rescuing your nephew. In the meantime, we need to prepare."
The king felt pretty exhausted after that meeting, but for some reason his skin was hotter. A fighter is a fighter, it seems.
"How exactly did you accomplish such a feat?" asked him Tytos Blackwood, Lord of Raventree Hall, in a whisper. They were watching the coronation of the new King of the Trident, Brynden Tully. Beside him was his nephew and heir, Edmure, a pretty lady beside him. In her arms, a redhaired baby boy was crying, though not so loud.
"Wars can be fought with quills and ravens." Jon answered. Lord Blackwood seemed to enjoy the answer, though, as he dropped the issue.
In truth it hadn't been exactly Jon's plan entirely. He had contacted the current Lord of Casterly Rock, Martyn Lannister. The boy was not much younger than Jon, but in truth it wasn't he who Jon wanted to discuss with, but the man behind him.
In truth, the Westerlands almost crumbled when the news of the Doom of King's Landing.
Cersei blew up the city with wildfire, with both Daenerys' horde of foreign soldiers and Aegon's host, together with the Golden Company. They had been fighting inside the city, a new Dance of the Dragons the maesters were calling it, when suddenly everything went up in bright green flames.
The Mad Queen, Cersei Lannister, didn't perish in the fire though. She had been imprisoned by the Mother of Dragons, though. Jon heard latter that Ser Jaime Lannister infiltrated the castle to rescuer her, but she told him it was too late. They would rule over ash and smoke. As far as the tales told, however, she tried to issue the command for the wildfire by screaming. Her own brother murdered her, both hands on her neck, trying to muffle her voice. He even killed the alchemist. But he forgot Cersei's confidant, a man named Qyburn. He set everything aflame.
After that chaos issued throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
The Freys began their wars for Walder's dirty legacy.
The Vale closed itself and mourned the death of its lord, Robert Arryn. A man named Harry Hardying assumed the control of the Eyrie, changing his surname to Arryn.
The Westerlands were a bit more peaceful for a while, with Martyn Lannister ruling, Genna Lannister as his regent. But a certain small man was there to get a hold of what was his.
The Reach began a civil war. The Florents took the opportunity to declare themselves Kings of the Reach. The Tarlys opposed them, then. They had Mace Tyrell's daughter's custody, and the Lord of Highgarden had lost its younger and oldest sons, so he hadn't much say in the matter.
Dorne kept silent. Jon heard some whispers that the dornish had been working with both Targaryen hosts, though in secret. Doran Martell hadn't declared himself Prince of Doran in the old meaning of the word. Though it seems his daughter, Arianne, did.
The Stormlands elected a boy named Edric Storm as the Lord of Storm's End. The castle was in the hands of the Golden Company, but they surrendered it soon after hearing of their defeat at the capitol. The stormlords were discussing the boy's coronation, and soon Edric's surname would become Baratheon.
The North had Jon as king and had been much more focused on its own problems. King's Landing wasn't a concern, though dragons were. They didn't last though.
With Westeros in disarray like so, Jon thought that the best to do was to find allies, even if in the weakest form of the word. He sent ravens to Casterly Rock and started an alliance with Tyrion Lannister. The move was bold, and many of his vassals steamed in response. But Ser Davos explained it to them.
In the end, Jon pledged that the North would recognize Martyn Lannister as King of the Rock, should he ever decide to wear a crown. But as payment, they would return Edmure, Roslin and the babe to Ser Brynden. They also wouldn't back up the Freys, when the war started. Genna Lannister was a problem, at first. But they agreed on pardoning her, her husband and their line. Riverrun would return to the Tullys, but Emmon Frey would get the Twins.
Jon's plan was to ask Tyrion for the hostages and then help him conquer his family's ancestral castle. But the dwarf refused, and after much negotiation they arrived at those terms.
Emmon Frey refused it, but Genna Lannister agreed. It had been to their advantage, but Jon could help the distaste in his mouth whenever he saw the new Lord of the Crossing. He didn't care about his kin, accepting their deaths just fine.
The war had been easy, though. The Freys had almost consumed themselves before the northern host arrived. Three factions remained. One led by Emmon Frey, who were allies; one led by Lothar Frey, who had control of the Twins; and a third one led by 'Black' Walder Frey, who was currently on siege, trying to starve Lothar and everyone inside.
Before they rode south, Jon treated with some of the riverlords through ravens. Tytos Blackwood pledged his support almost immediately. The Mallisters were weary, especially since news of Jon murdering his brother had arrived.
Every northern lord had to send letters to explain what had happened, though it did little to help. They eventually joined Jon when he had already subdued Black Walder's forces and took control of the siege.
The Smallwoods and the Pipers also joined them.
In the end most riverlords accepted Tully rule. The truth is they all wanted a king of their own, for quite some time.
Lothar eventually surrendered, but on the terms that he'd be given Harrenhal, be spared and turned vassal to Ser Brynden Tully. The man accepted through gritted teeth.
History would tell later of Lyonel the Kinslayer, Emmon's second son who hanged Lothar at Harrenhal. The man, it seems, didn't die much. Stories of murmured singing of the Rains of Castamere throughout the castle began soon after its lord's death. The place may be cursed, after all.
Now Jon had a new ally. King Brynden seemed to treat Jon much better after the council meeting. Even with respect, never calling him 'boy' again.
A fortnight after the coronation, Jon was making plans to leave the Riverlands and return north, when the Riverrun maester entered his chambers, Ser Davos right behind him. The man was small and fragile, though his smile was bright. Almost no hair on his head, he had dark brown eyes and a greyish brown beard.
"A raven came for you, your grace." He said then, handing Jon a parchment. Ser Davos gave him a look, showing Jon that he knew what was written in it.
Jon opened it and something fell. He picked it up and examined it in his hands: a blue rose, though not fresh. No, it was dying. And in the paper were many words, but two caught his attention: Help and Marriage.
This chapter was much fun to write, really. I hope you enjoyed it, because I did.
Rate & Review, please, criticism is always welcomed.
Until next time.