Jon XIV

It took a few moments before the room descended into absolute chaos. The northern lords were on their feet, banging the table and demanding leave to head north and kill Roose, while the lords of the Riverlands were asking for the same leave, but to kill the Freys. The lords of the Stormlands and Reach, with the exception of Lord Tarly, tried to defuse the situation, but that only pulled them into arguments with their new allies.

Jon watched grimly as the once united table broke and shattered into dozens of different arguments. Personal insults were being flung across the table and hands were going to knives and swords.

"My lords!" Jon snapped, slamming his dagger down on the table. "Be quiet and retake your seats."

Jon's voice cracked like a whip, breaking through the red haze that overtaken many and finding some sense of reason in them. With glares and a few mumbled words, they sat back down, some even having the grace to look ashamed with the way they had acted.

"We have been betrayed, but that is no reason for us to start fighting amongst ourselves." Jon continued, waiting for Robb to step in and take over again. "Let us not forget that we have a host of over a hundred thousand strong. We will deal with Bolton and his bastard, as well as the Greyjoys and the Lannisters. But we can not do that if we are acting like children."

Ser Brynden nodded firmly. "Jon is right. We have the forces here to attack our enemies on all fronts."

"What does his grace think?" Lord Tarly asked, looking at Robb, who was still leaning back in his seat, staring at the message in his hands.

No one said anything, just looking at their king, who seemed to have lost himself in the message. Thankfully, Jon seemed to fix the problem. He ripped the scroll from Robb's hands, tore it in half, and threw it into the nearest brazier.

That jolted Robb into action. He sat up, clearing his throat. "My brother and great-uncle are correct. Now all that is left is to determine who goes where." He started, his voice surprisingly strong even if the one who spoke looked close to tears. "Lord Tarly, I will need to borrow some twenty thousand men, but you will still march on the Westerlands and Iron Islands."

The Lord of Horn Hill nodded. "Of course, your grace. I shall send word to Lord Willas should I need more."

"Garlan, you will command the reachmen who march with me." Robb continued. "Ser Brynden, you will take the men of the Riverlands and take the Crossing. Once you have it, return to me."

The old knight smiled grimly. "It would be my pleasure, your grace."

"My northern lords will go north, help take the Twins, and move on to Moat Cailin. My brother Jon will lead the northern host." Robb said finally, a fierce growl coming from that side of the table as he made the announcement. "I will take the lords of the Stormlands, along with the twenty thousand reachmen under Garlan and another thousand northmen under Lord Forrester."

"And where will you be going, your grace?" Lord Glover asked curiously.

"I will go after the Lion of Casterly Rock," Robb answered grimly. "He must be dealt with and I mean to see him sent off with his tail between his legs."

"Your grace," Jon said quietly, "perhaps it would be best if a more experienced commander led the northmen."

Robb shook his head. "You are my brother," he said firmly. "Father taught us both how to lead. You will bring Bolton and his bastard to justice, save my mother, and free our home of traitors and raiders."

The two brothers had a silent fight with their eyes. Jon still felt unsure that he was ready to command a large host of men, but Robb would not be moved on the subject. Robb's message was clear; if he could not be in the North to free his mother and make sure she was safe, then Jon had to be there for him. This was a family matter. He could not entrust it to a bannermen.

Finally, Jon sighed and nodded. "I will do as you command, your grace."

Robb turned back to his council. "Prepare your men and move out as soon as possible. That is all."

That council nodded and left, nodding respectfully to their king as they did. Soon, only Jon and Garlan were left with Robb, who was slumped in his chair, staring at the table, his mind a million miles away. The two warriors talked quietly a little ways from him.

"Do you think it's wise to have the dinner?" Jon asked. "He just learned that his mother is a prisoner, just like our sisters."

Garlan looked over at the king before looking back at Jon. "I think it is," he replied. "Margaery might be able to bring him out of his black mood. She's always been good at that."

Jon nodded. "I've never seen him like this," he admitted, glancing at his brother. "With all that's gone on, I don't know how he handles it. Our father, sisters, and now brothers and Lady Catelyn. Not to mention the weight of the crown."

"Margaery and my grandmother might be able to ease his mind, if only a little." Garlan offered. "I will work with Lord Edmure and set up a small dinner. Myself, Loras, my grandmother, Margaery, yourself, and Robb."

Jon smiled slightly. "That would be best. Thank you, Ser Garlan."

The Tyrell knight shook his head. "We will be brothers soon, there is no need for a 'ser'. Garlan, please, when we are alone."

Jon nodded, then stopped. "Robb and Margaery are to be married, are they not?" He asked.

Garlan frowned. "They are. We'll have to do it soon, within the next few days."

"Tomorrow," Robb said, walking up to the two. "We'll do it tomorrow."

"Can it even be set up by tomorrow?" Jon asked curiously.

Garlan grinned. "Leave that to my grandmother. She will see that it's done."

Robb nodded. "Good," he said quietly. "Let me know when dinner is set."

And with that, he left.

Line Break

Dinner was a subdued event, thanks in no small part to Lady Catelyn's imprisonment and the Boltons betrayal. Robb picked at his food, eating very little of the roasted venison and glazed vegetables. Margaery sat on his right, doing her best to make small talk with him, trying to bring Robb out of his mood, but it had little effect.

Talk around the table was kept to a minimum. Lady Olenna and Jon both kept glancing at Robb as they ate, not sure what to say. Garlan simply ate, looking the most at ease with the situation, showing that his faith in his sister's ability was absolute. Loras kept his glare on his plate, the only one who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but in the room with Robb.

"Jon," Lady Olenna said finally, "I hear you trekked across the North to be by his grace's side. Is that true?"

Jon nodded, thankful for the distraction. "It is, my lady," he said, continuing the conversation. "I had my mind set on the Night's Watch for the past few years. Unfortunately, it was not what I imagined and I hesitated when asked to take the Black. When I heard of my father's imprisonment, I came south to be by my brother's side."

"Will you rejoin the Watch after the war?" Garlan asked curiously.

Jon thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Most likely not," he answered honestly. "Hopefully I'll find a place in the North, or I will become a sworn sword to my brother."

"A Kingsguard?" Margaery asked.

Jon shrugged. "If he asks, then I will accept," he answered simply.

A rude scoff came from beside Garlan where Loras was still staring at his food. The Knight of Flowers looked unusually scruffy. His hair looked greasy and unwashed, and there were the beginnings of stubble on his sharp jaw. There were also dark bags under his eyes as if he hadn't been getting enough sleep. Many people tried to steer clear of the knight the last few weeks as he was prone to lash out.

"You're not kingsguard material," Loras sneered, glaring at Jon.

Jon shrugged. "That's not for me to determine," he responded calmly. "If my brother wishes for me to protect him, then I have no reason to say no."

Loras snorted. "Who have you fought?" He challenged angrily. "Some half-trained lannisters. At Oxcross, you surprised them before they could put up a proper fight. At the Golden Tooth, you used trickery to enter the castle and once again attacked without the enemy expecting it. You've fought nobody."

"Loras…." Garlan said, trying to deter his younger brother from the path he was taking, but Loras would have none of it.

"Quiet Garlan." he snapped angrily. "I am twice the warrior any of you are, twice the man!" He cried, slamming both hands on the table as he stood. "You all swore loyalty to Renly, and before his body was cold you were ready to swear loyalty to this frozen savage."

"That is enough Loras!" Olenna said, her voice snapping with command. Her tone alone would have been enough to rein in the hot-headed knight, but Loras disregarded her, his face red and his breathing coming fast and heavy.

"I am not finished," Loras shouted. "You may think me stupid, but I am no fool! You've been planning on marrying Margaery to the northman even while she was Renly's wife!" He snarled. "You're all traitors."

Margaery shook her head. "I was faithful to Renly," she said evenly. "Never once did we ever talk about me leaving him for Robb, nor did Robb ever bring it up. It was never a thought brother."

Olenna nodded. "Your sister's betrothal to the northern king was a good opportunity borne from a tragic accident," she explained. "You can't seriously expect us to be loyal to a dead man."

Loras's face was red with fury as his gaze went from his grandmother to his sister to Robb to Garlan before starting over. He was like a bull, trying to decide who he would go after first. Jon quietly grabbed hold of the sharp meat knife next to his plate, hiding it under his arm, preparing to intercede if the Tyrell man got violent.

"You loved him," Robb said simply, speaking for the first time. "He was your best friend, your mentor. You shared an unbreakable bond. When he declared himself king, you were right there at his side, as you have always been."

Loras nodded slightly, still standing.

"He would have been a great king!"

Robb smiled sadly. "With that, we agree. Renly might have had some flaws, but he was, at his core, a good man who thought he could be a better king than Joffrey and his brother. Do you think I will be a good king?"

Loras opened his mouth to reply, then shut it, unsure of what to reply with. The anger he had started with was quickly leaving him, unable to continue in the face of Robb's soft and understanding tone.

"I don't know," Loras said finally, slowly sitting back down.

Robb sighed. "Loras, I am not Renly, and I know that there are probably others in this army who wished that I was," he explained easily. "I can't bring back the dead, or else both my father and Renly would be here now. Neither deserved to be killed in the fashion that they were. I know that I have no right to ask anything of you, but I feel I must. Will you fight for me, not to help me bring down those who have done my family harm, but to help me create a realm that Renly would be proud of?"

"Fight in Renly's honor?" Loras asked quietly.

Robb nodded. "Exactly. Fight by my side. Help me create a world that Renly would be proud to be a part of. Do not forget him, I'm sure you never will, but take what made him a good man, his dreams and desires for a great Westeros, and help me make that a reality."

The table was quiet, all eyes on the Young Wolf and the Knight of Flowers. Garlan, Olenna, and Margaery had never seen Loras quieted in such a way, and Jon had never seen Robb speak with the maturity that he was displaying now. He sounded like a man twice his age.

He sounded like their father.

Loras hung his head while Robb waited patiently for an answer. Finally, the young knight raised his head and looked the northern king in the eye, nodding firmly.

"I can do that," he said quietly, his eyes filled with purpose as he held himself a little straighter.

Robb smiled. "Good. I will certainly need a good sword by my side when I go after Tywin." He joked lightly.

Loras managed a half-hearted smile, the only one that his family had seen since before Renly's murder. It was certainly a miraculous sight given that it was Robb who had gotten it out of the man.

"I think I can help with that," he said.

Jon was enjoying the moment when he realized that Garlan had his eyes on him, an eyebrow raised. It was then that he realized that he had forgotten to bring up something very important.

"Lady Olenna, with the army soon breaking up, I was wondering how soon it would be possible to arrange my brother's and Lady Margaery's marriage?" Jon asked curiously.

The older woman popped a slice of cheese in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "I believe it can be done. It will be a small affair, mind you, but I will make sure it is done." She glanced at Robb. "Though, after spending some time around his grace, I'm sure a small ceremony might be best regardless."

Robb grinned and nodded to her. "It seems you've mastered northern culture, my lady."

"How much time do you need?" Garlan asked.

The Queen of Thorns smiled. "Give me one night, my dear boy. I will make sure all is ready."

Robb looked over at Margaery, who was watching the discussion with a beautiful smile on her face.

"Are you sure you still want to do this?" He asked curiously.

Margaery laughed. "I think I'll take the risk." She joked.

Robb laughed as well, a real laugh, one that he hadn't had since before the whole bloody war had begun. Not since his entire family was in one place at Winterfell, when Arya had flung food at Sansa at the feast welcoming the king to the North.

It was a great sight for Jon to see. His brother finally, properly happy.

Line Break

"Quite impressive, was it not." Lady Olenna mused after Robb, Margaery, Garlan, and Loras had left, leaving the old woman and Jon alone.

Jon nodded, tossing his napkin over the remnants of his food. "Robb has grown up, and each time I see a sign of it, I'm always surprised." He answered. "He reminds me of our father in so many ways."

"I remember meeting Lord Rickard, Lord Stark's late father," Olenna said. "The man was one of the smartest I had ever encountered. He was calm, collected, thoughtful, deceptively cunning, and as dangerous as the massive sword he carried on his back. I heard your father was like that."

Jon nodded slightly. "My father had always been the quietest of his siblings, according to my uncle Benjen. Brandon was brash and rugged, Lyanna was wild and beautiful, and my father was quiet and thoughtful. Benjen is a mix of all. He's funny, but also keenly observant."

"A fine pack of wolves and two dragons reduced them to two," Olenna commented. "Robar Royce spent some time in the Reach learning under Garlan. I asked him about his father."

"Bronze Yohn," Jon said. "He passed through Winterfell when he was taking one of his sons to the Wall. My father always spoke highly of him."

Olenna nodded. "Indeed. Lord Royce was very good friends with the young Eddard Stark, met the others at the Tourney of Harrenhal. I asked the young knight what his father thought of the Warden of the North, and do you know what his reply was?"

Jon shook his head. "Something about my father's honor I would assume."

Olenna smirked. "Clever," she laughed. "No, Lord Royce believes that Eddard Stark was more dangerous than even Tywin Lannister."

Jon raised an eyebrow. Tywin Lannister was infamous throughout Westeros. From the Wall to Dorne. He fought in the War of Ninepenny Kings, was Hand to the Mad King, sacked King's Landing during Robert's Rebellion. His name was probably feared across the Narrow Sea.

"I wonder why Lord Royce thinks that?" Jon wondered.

"A logical question, and one that I asked immediately," Olenna said. "According to Lord Royce, what made Eddard Stark so dangerous was that, while Tywin Lannister is feared, Ned Stark was beloved by all who knew him. Those who fought for him fought out of the love they had for House Stark and the man leading them. There are few things stronger than hate or the desire for revenge, but love tends to win more often than not." Olenna nodded towards where Robb had been sitting. "It seems the apple did not fall far from the tree."

"Or the red leaf from the weirwood." Jon joked. "Robb has always been charming and was as fine an heir as any man would want. But these last few weeks, he's become more than what he was."

"He's become a king." Olenna agreed. "And if he wins this war, Westeros will have the best ruler it's had in over forty years."

"He'll have a good wife at his side," Jon said with a smile.

Olenna shook her head. "He comes from a great family. Think about it, my young and handsome northman. Every great family in Westeros has not held power like the Starks have. The Arryns came with the Andals, the Casterlys ruled before the Lannisters, same with the Mudds and Tullys, Durrandons and Baratheons, and the Gardeners and Tyrells. Even the Martells were a lowly house before Nymeria and the Rhoynish sailed in. House Stark has ruled the North for centuries. They are leaders, conquerors, victors. They are the strongest house in all of Westeros and I have a feeling Tywin Lannister will soon realize that."