Ursa Major | Tormund Giantsbane

Chapter 3

The camp was in mourning.

No one could console Lady Catelyn, no one could say anything that might make Robb feel better. There was hardly time for them to wallow in their grief; a decision had to be made regarding where they stood now.

The lords presented their opinions, "The proper course is clear," said Lord Jonos Bracken. "Pledge fealty to King Renly and move south to join our forces with his."

"Renly is not the king," argued Robb.

"You cannot mean to hold to Joffrey, my lord! He put your father to death."

"That doesn't make Renly king. He's Robert's youngest brother. If Bran can't be Lord of Winterfell before me, Renly can't be king before Stannis."

"Do you mean to declare us for Stannis?" asked Lord Jonos.

"Renly is not right!" agreed Lady Maege.

"If we put ourselves behind Stannis–" argued Ser Marq Piper.

"Highgarden and Storm's End have already backed Renly, Stannis has nothing," shouted Arnal. "He's more agreeable!"

Greatjon stood, towering over them. "My lords. Here is what I say to these two kings." He spit on the floor, eliciting their laughter. "Renly Baratheon is nothing to me. Nor Stannis, neither. Why should they rule over me and mine from some flowery seat in the South? What do they know of the Wall or the Wolfswood? Even their gods are wrong!"

More laughter; they all shared the same belief. "Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again? It was the dragons we bowed to and now the dragons are dead." He unsheathed his sword, pointing toward Robb. "There sits the only king I mean to bend my knee to. The King in the North!" Greatjon knelt in front of him, laying his sword at Robb's feet.

The young Stark rose to his feet as Lord Karstark said, "I'll have peace on those terms. They can keep their Red Castle and their iron chair too! The King in the North." He, too, knelt.

Theon faced Robb, "Am I your brother, now and always?"

"Now and always," confirmed Robb.

He lowered himself beside Greatjon. "My sword is yours in victory and defeat, from this day until my last day."

"The King in the North!" yelled Greatjon again. The rest joined, Thyrsa ushered forward by her siblings so they could kneel directly behind their father, all the other men following suit until everyone had declared for Robb, the entire army chanting in unison, acknowledging their chosen king.

Though they mourned, there was hope that something new could come of this war. They'd save the Stark girls and they would never bow down to any Southerners again. Robb could be their King; he'd be a good one. They'd have their lands, their way of living, all for themselves.

It became what she fixated on, her motivation to continue through the war.

I want to go home. And I want that home to be ours, just ours.

It was good enough.

Their army was split soon after. Robb had every intention to invade the Westerlands, but didn't wish to leave the Riverlands unattended, given the Lannisters were still occupying them. He clipped a piece off of his army, placing Greatjon in charge of expelling the Lannisters from Raventree Hill and Stone Hedge to reinstall Lord Jonos Bracken and allow for House Blackwood to reclaim their castle. Aspen and Arnal followed him, while Hother and Thyrsa were left to continue onward with Robb.

Each battle made the splattering of blood feel less hot. Each person she killed elicited less of a reaction. The wounds no longer ached as much, the wine became easier to drink. The armor weighed less over her shoulders. Lady Maege was convinced she had grown stronger with each callous that was left behind on her hands.