Song: King in the North by Ramin Djawadi
Dark wings, dark words.
The phrase never rang more true than now.
They had all been gathered in Robb's tent, discussing what they were to do with their newfound hostage when the scroll was handed to Robb.
He unwrapped it carefully, and Fianna swore she had never seen a man struggle to keep his composure so much. His face had reddened considerably, his entire posture stiff.
"Robb, what is it?" Catelyn approached him, placing her hand on his arm comfortingly. All he could do was shove the paper that had flipped their world upside down, made every victory seem irrelevant, made every happy moment seem tainted, into his mother's small hands.
He rushed out of the tent. Fianna followed after him, sticking her head out of the tent to see where he was headed. She was even more confused at the sight of his retreating figure heading towards the forest.
She stepped back into the tent, looking over to Lady Catelyn who placed the scroll down on the table. Her face had considerably paled, her hands shaking as she placed it down. She closed her eyes for one prolonged moment and then opened them again.
"My lady?" She asked quietly, approaching her slowly.
"He's gone," was all she could say. Her eyes directly fixed on the scroll that was discarded on the table. Fianna plucked the paper up, gesturing to Lady Stark for permission to read it. Catelyn nodded her head once before leaving the tent too.
She unrolled the script, the Northern lords turning to her and waiting expectantly for her to read its contents.
Fianna's eyes widened as she read the words, her breathing becoming shallow in shock. She gently rolled the script up again, her wide eyes looking around to her fellow Lords.
"My Lords, it's news of Lord Stark. Eddard, that is," she mumbled vaguely, her eyes not really focusing on anything.
"Well? Spit it out girl!" Greatjon commanded of her. She sighed morosely and looked to him.
"He's been beheaded.. by King Joffrey," she told them. The silence lasted all of a minute before the eruption.
"How dare they! This is an act of war!"
"This cannot stand!"
"We must march on Kings Landing!"
"Kill the Kingslayer in honour of Lord Stark! Impale his head on a spike!"
"My lords!" Fianna cut them off with a loud, stern voice. "Lady Catelyn and Lord Stark are surely grieving their loss. You will give them time to heal and do not pester them with your ideas of revenge. When Lord Stark is ready to hear them, he will call a council meeting."
She left the tent before they could object, debating internally whether she should find Robb to offer her condolences, or leave him alone to grieve with his loss with his mother.
Fianna stood for a moment, her eyes scanning the tree line, searching for any sight of her liege lord. Perhaps he had wanted to be alone, and that's why he went into the trees - where no one else was stationed.
She jumped at the sight of Lady Catelyn appearing from the forest, her hands crossed in front of her in a grave manner. Fianna stayed put, intending to leave the woman to grieve but it had been Catelyn who approached her.
Catelyn eyed the younger girl for a moment, the secret she had been keeping would surely affect Fianna too. The reasons she had been keeping them seemed so irrelevant to her now, now Robb was doomed to live with the pain of his father's death and being married to a girl he wasn't supposed to wed.
She had seen the bond between the two, it developed in the blink of an eye and when it began, it blossomed daily. She heard the story of her attack, knew that Fianna was a warrior. She hoped the secret glances her son threw towards the Lady were nothing but a boy's attraction to a strong, independent woman, one he had no hope of getting with.
If Robb had been told of the betrothal, he would doubtlessly marry the girl in an instant. Nothing a Frey girl could offer would withstand what Fianna could give him, because Catelyn doubted there was any woman in Westeros that was anywhere close to Fianna Bua.
Catelyn tried to convince herself that she was doing the right thing. They needed the Frey men to fight for Robb and to get them Robb needed to be betrothed, to keep them, he needed to stay betrothed.
Yet she couldn't deny the guilt that overcame her. And now that Ned was gone - she prayed for forgiveness from the Gods, as well as praying for Ned.
"Go to him," she told her quietly. Catelyn placed a hand on Fianna's forearm. She sensed the worry in Fianna's expression and knew that, as much as she wished they wouldn't have the bond that they did, Robb needed her.
That was all Fianna needed to hear.
The entire situation was all too familiar for her, surrounded by people mourning a man only she had a true bond with. Now, it was Robb and Catelyn in her position.
She suddenly longed for a mother of her own, to be able to share in her grief and pain when her father passed. But alas, having a parent was not a luxury the Gods deemed Fianna fit to have.
She sauntered quickly through the trees, her head whipping around quickly trying to find Robb.
She stopped in her step, silencing the sound of her feet crunching on the leaves when she heard the sound of sobbing.
Fianna followed the sound, her pace slower now so as not to startle him by approaching him too quick.
Her heart completely broke at the sight, Robb was crumpled on the ground. His back against the tree, a battered and destroyed sword by his side, his hands gripping his head as he sobbed freely.
"Robb," she called softly, walking closer. His head snapped up in surprise. He frantically began to rub his cheeks with his hands, trying to eliminate the proof of his anguish.
Fianna rushed forward immediately and dropped to her knees at his side, ripping his hands away from his face. When he tried to stand, she tugged him down roughly to stop him from standing up.
"No, don't you do that," she said, gripping his forearms tightly and looking him in the eye with a fierce look in her own. "Don't you dare hide what you are feeling from me. Everything you are feeling, I have felt. You cannot expect to hold your pride above grieving your loss."
His expression crumpled again, another sob ripping out of his throat. He clutched Fianna by the shoulders and brought her to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her and desperately seeking comfort from the younger girl.
Fianna stiffened slightly, physical touch had always made her slightly uncomfortable. But she pushed that aside and moulded her body against Robb's.
Due to his sitting position, the two didn't even care that Fianna was sitting in his lap. They both clutched at each other and forced themselves so close together there was no other option.
Fianna rested her head against the side of his, her hands gripping onto his hair as he buried his head into the crook of her neck, his arms wrapped around her steel breastplate as tight as he possibly could.
Frustrated with this, he grunted and reached up, untying the ties that bound her armour and pulled it off of her, quickly. She sat quietly and let him work, and he finally freed her, he gripped her body finally - no longer separated by the armour.
"I know, I know," she soothed, offering Robb the only thing he would accept right now - understanding.
They sat like that for a while until Robb's silent cries died down. She was off his lap now, sitting next to him as he leaned his head against her shoulder. Her hand reaching up and slowly brushing his curls soothingly, almost like a child. She didn't even mind the weight of his armour as he pressed against her. The weight of his pain weighed heavier.
"How did you do it?" He spoke after what seemed like hours, the sun was starting to go down causing a red hue to fill the sky. His voice was hoarse from his screaming and crying.
"I didn't. I cried. I lashed out. I took a sword and I beat a stuffed dummy with it all day, every day. I cursed him, I cursed everyone - my father for leaving, the gods for taking him, the maid who had cried over his loss as if she knew him at all. I hated everyone and I hated myself.
"And then.. it just started to dull. I cried a little less, I lashed out less often, I was sad. So completely sad. I still am, in truth. But I refused to stay in my bed another day and not rule Baelfort in his honour. To spend another day not contributing to the name he had made for our house. My father wouldn't want me to put my life on hold, and neither would yours."
He leaned his head off of her shoulder, choosing instead to rest it back against the trunk of the tree to be able to look at Fianna. Fianna looked up at him, turning her head to the side.
"I don't know what to do. I can't even think of this war now, all I can think of is killing the men who did this," he admitted to her, his manner now stronger than it had been all day.
"And you don't need to, you have us. The Northern Lords. You are not alone, Robb," she turned suddenly, Sitting on her knees so she could face him. She reached in and gripped his hands tightly, forcing him to look at her. "I swear to you, by the Old Gods, I will help you destroy every single person who would ever harm you or your household. I will help you avenge your father, Robb. And those that would ever hurt you again will die, screaming." She assured him, reaching up and gripping his jaw tightly so he kept their gaze.
His eyes watered again, but he found this time it wasn't with sorrow, but with appreciation.
When they rose finally, their legs had been stiff from sitting for so long. They nodded to each other once, out of respect before venturing out of the forest back towards camp.
This time, when Robb entered his tent - he had not been forced to hold his composure. He had not been red faced and eyes wet, he looked more fierce and determined than he ever appeared in his life.
He looked like a King.
-
At the feast that night, Robb had not attended. He was with his Lady mother, understandably.
Fianna ate beside Ser Mick, instead. Finding his company rather enjoyable. Aside from Robb, Ser Mick was one of the only people she could truly trust in this camp.
"I saw you come out of the woods with Robb Stark," he began, to which she internally sighed to, "forgive me, but you are playing a dangerous game, my lady."
"I'm not sure what you mean, Ser," she said resolutely. Her tone suggested that she knew exactly what Ser Mick was hinting to, but she refused to let him elaborate. She reached over and gripped onto her cup of wine, sipping it loudly before setting it down firmly.
"He is betrothed to be married, my lady. There cannot be any relations beyond friendship between you two."
"Well, that's a good thing there isn't any, isn't it?" She said, turning her head to look at him. Her eyes burning with warning.
"You can deny it all you want to me, my lady. But I've been there since you were born, and long before that. I know the woman you are, I know you are not foolish. I must urge you to remind yourself of the situation you are in, an affair would ruin your household."
"Ser Mick, I appreciate your worry and your words. Truly. But I must insist that there is nothing beyond the realms of friendship between myself and my Lord. We are aware of our stations and his betrothal."
Ser Mick nodded in response, not in any way convinced.
"Sing us a song, Lady Fianna!" One of the men called out, causing a chorus of 'ayes' to sound around the camp.
"Please, my lords!" Fianna begged with a laugh, "I wouldn't want to deafen your ears with my screeching before you got to hear the screams of King Joffrey when we march on King's Landing."
They all howled with laughter at that, the Northerners were surely getting more comfortable with their Lady around. Having a newfound respect for her.
"Sing that Bua song of yours, if it please m'lady!" Lord Umber called out, hugging a flagon of ale and looking perfectly relaxed. He lifted his flagon to her in encouragement.
"Well," she toyed with them playfully, "who am I to deny the Lords the lyrical genius works of House Bua?"
They all cheered as she stood up, ready to listen intently. The camp had been somber for days in the wake of Ned's death. Robb and Catelyn never joined them to feast, only a song could lighten the spirits of the Northmen this night.
Fianna hadn't realised Robb was approaching to finally join them for the feast, but when he heard she was about to sing for them, he hung back in the shadows. Robb leaned against a tree and crossed his arms over his chest, ready to watch her.
"You have to clap for the song!" She commanded, she wore a fine dress for the feast that evening instead of her usual armour and braid. The silks swayed as she looked around at the men around her, not a sign of insecurity to be seen.
"While in the dead of Summer heat from my home I started,
Left the girls of Baelfort nearly broken hearted,
Saluted my dear son and kissed my lady mother,
Drank enough of ale, my grief and fears to smother
Then off to help the Starks, let them hear a wolfhound's barks,
Had my chain, my mail, seen the great Moat Cailin,
And frightened all the fish on the rocky road down south
One, two, three, four, five
Blood in my hair, blood in my mouth
All the way down South
Next I reached the South,
Won a war, got a sore,
My wife she was up North, so to the whorehouse I rode!
One two three four five
Blood in my hair, blood in my mouth
All the way down south!"
When she finished they had been laughing loudly and hollering, cheering at their lady and raising their cups to her. Her cheeks flushed as if she were embarrassed only now, she curtsied dramatically, getting right down to the ground and hollowing in her cheeks - a mock to the manner in which a highborn lady should act. But they only fell into laughter again.
She sat back down, that was when Robb had made his way towards her. He crouched down behind where she was seated and sounded into her ear - lowly so the other Lords wouldn't hear.
"Is that a song a lady should be singing?" He teased, sniggering when she jumped in surprise and turned her head to him. Her cheeks lifted into a smile when she saw who it was.
"A Lady of Baelfort, yes," she lifted her eyebrows at him, in a sultry tone. He rolled his eyes and breathed a laugh before standing tall again.
"Will you walk with me, my lady?" He held his elbow out to her, she nodded her head and stood up, smoothing out her dress and placing her hand on the crook of his elbow.
They were about to walk away from the crowd until they heard a voice call out, "Bring her back in one piece, m'lord! There are songs to be sang!"
"I'll try my hardest, my lord!" Robb called back, letting out a laugh that the rest of the men quickly joined in on, Fianna giggled but her cheeks flushed deeply.
They walked out to the river, standing side by side for a moment and looking out across it. It was dark now, the moonlight being their only source of light.
Riverrun was absolutely breathtaking, Fianna found. It's large walls and the rivers surrounding it made it truly unique, Fianna had never visited the Tully ancestral home before and found she would have difficulty leaving again.
The silence was slightly awkward, yet not as much as it would have been the weeks before.
"I must apologise," he spoke finally, "Fianna. I have been quite absent lately, from my duties and from you."
"It's alright, Robb. I understand, believe me." She turned her head and smiled softly at him, his gaze flicking back and forth between her eyes.
"Where did you learn that song?" He asked, definitely changing the subject. He cleared his throat and looked away from her towards the river.
"When we had a feast at Baelfort, my Lord father always let me attend," she smiled in memory. "To avoid sounding pretentious as much as I possibly can, the other men loved my presence. So they didn't mind if I joined in on the celebrations. They would sing Bua songs and that was often one of them." She reminisced, her eyes falling to her feet.
"Who was the song written for?" He asked curiously.
"My ancestor, Lord Oisin Bua. Oisin was Lord of Baelfort, but he was known to be rather promiscuous. He was only 18 when the Stark lord at the time called his banners for battle. He rode out and fought ferociously, and when they won the war - he went straight to a whorehouse, his army still on and blood on his hair and face."
Robb noticed Fianna loved talking about House Bua. There was no doubt she was proud of her family history and felt tremendous pressure living up to the high standards she believed were set by her predecessors.
"Tell me more of your time at Baelfort, your stories are always interesting."
"Robb, did you really bring me out here to learn of my childhood?" She asked outright. He widened his eyes in surprise before letting out a sigh, shaking his head. Damn Fianna Bua and her inability to be modest.
"I brought you out here because in a time where I don't want to talk with anyone, I find myself still wanting to talk to you."
His words shocked her, she kept her gaze forward, refusing to look at him. Her expression was neutral as she thought over his words, desperately wracking her brain for a reply.
"I am honoured. Friendships are essential in times of sorrow," she babbled. Coming out with the most random thing she could have said. She didn't know what to say in truth, she only knew she had to verbally say the word friendship to emphasise the position they were in.
"Yes, friends," he said monotonously. His gaze had been fixed on the side view of her face, lit up by moonlight. "What do you intend to do after the war, my lady?"
"What do you mean, my lord?" A crease formed between her eyebrows in confusion.
"After the war, do you intend to rule as the Lady of Baelfort alone? Will you find a husband?" Fianna was even more confused now, why was he even asking her this?
"I don't know, my Lord. As you said the first day we met, it's obvious why I don't have one" she teased, her elbow jutting out to hit his ribs playfully. He grinned in amusement.
"You dared to insult my direwolf! With only a dog at your side!" He retaliated.
"A dog that would rip your cock off if I said so!"
"As if that dog would listen to any command you gave him."
They burst into laughter at that, Fianna's head tipping back. When it died down, her lips fell into a small smile, just the corners tipped up.
"I don't know if I'll ever marry, in truth," she admitted, her happy mood dulling visibly. "I know I should provide an heir for Baelfort, but I want Baelfort to remain Bua. If I marry, I will no longer be a Bua. My children will bear my husband's name, their family will now be in control of Baelfort. It's not a situation I want."
"Lady Mormont kept her name, her child I hear bears her name." Robb argued.
"And how many Lords do you imagine would agree to marry me and agree to let their child take their mother's name?"
"I can't imagine a man who wouldn't do anything you asked, my lady." His words made her look up again, making eye contact. The tension suddenly became palpable.
"In an ideal world, I'd meet a man I loved, who loved me in return. Ideally another Lord. I'd bear him two sons, the first heir would rule their father's lands and take his name, the second would bear mine and rule Baelfort." She never took her gaze off Robb as she spoke.
"Perhaps you will, my lady." He spoke, his voice raspier than normal.
"Doubtful," she said, breaking their prolonged eye contact and looking back towards the waters. She slowly started to back away. "I should rest, my Lord."
"As you wish, my lady," he murmured but he doubt she heard him by how swiftly she walked away. "Fianna!" He called, causing her to turn around and stop. "Is... is your chambers in Riverrun worthy?"
"Yes, very much so."
-
The next night, Robb was finally ready to discuss their next plan of action. After the feast, he had called for a war meeting to be held. Instead of being held inside a tent as they usually did, Robb called the meeting to be held outside.
The air outside was freezing and Fianna shook with the cold, despite having her cloak draped around her armour. When she exhaled, she could see her breath.
Although it was night, the area was well lit by the surrounding torches - torches as fiery as the Northern lords around her.
They had been discussing who of the three new kings the Stark camp would pledge fealty to - unfortunately they were all Baratheon. Well, discussing was perhaps the wrong word to use, shouting and arguing may have been more appropriate.
Roose Bolton had reformed a small battalion consisting of the remaining men that escaped the clutches of Tywin Lannister, and Lord Walder Frey still held the Twins. Despite this, Tywin still crossed the Trident and was making his way for Harrenhal.
Fianna listened with strained patience as each of the Lords had their say on what they thought their next plan of action would be. Some wanted to throw their full force and take Harrenhal, and some suggested waiting it out at Riverrun. Young Marq Piper even wanted to strike Casterly Rock - Fianna had to hold back a laugh at that. That was the most foolish idea a Northern Lord had spewed yet. Casterly Rock was impenetrable.
"The proper course is clear - pledge fealty to King Renly and move South to join our forces with his," Jonos Bracken spoke out as he stood up. Fianna was uncomfortable with the idea, she couldn't imagine pledging fealty to any King at the moment - especially one with as little claim as Renly had.
"Renly is not the King," Robb replied stubbornly.
"You cannot mean to hold to Joffrey, my Lord," Galbart Glover asked incredulously. "He put your father to death!"
"That makes him evil, but it still doesn't make Renly king," Robb insisted. "He's Robert's youngest brother, now Bran can't be Lord of Winterfell before me - Renly can't be King before Stannis!"
"Lord Stannis has the better claim!" Lady Mormont called from the crowd.
"Stannis Baratheon is a fierce battle commander, and he does have a strong claim.." Fianna mused, voicing her opinion for the first time that night.
"My lady, Renly is crowned," Marq Piper came in again. "Highgarden and Storm's End support his claim-"
"Highgarden and Storm's End have no ties to Winterfell, we need to pledge to a King who will think of the best interests of the North! Has Renly ever even been North of Storm's End?" Fianna cut him off.
"So do we declare for Stannis?" asked Edmure Tully.
"I don't know," Robb said, suddenly looking exhausted. "The Lannisters killed my father for being a traitor, and we know that was a lie, but if Joffrey is the lawful king and we fight against him, we will be traitors."
"I will accept being labelled a traitor any day before I ever bend the knee to a fucking Lannister," Fianna replied loudly, fitting in well with the outspoken Lords surrounding her. She was met with a chorus of 'aye', many others agreeing with her.
"My lord father would urge caution," Ser Stevron, Lord Walder's son suggested. Fianna rolled her eyes quickly which Robb caught, holding in a laugh at the girl's absolute inability to keep her opinions to herself. "Let these two kings play their game of thrones. When they're done fighting, we can bend our knee to the victor. With Renly arming, likely Lord Tywin would welcome a truce-"
"A truce?!" Fianna shouted, standing up suddenly. "We will never accept a deal from Tywin Lannister. I'd sooner die at his sword than appear weak enough to beg for peace!" The Greatjon bellowed his approval at Fianna's words, the other men pounded their fists on the table.
Robb caught Fianna's eye and smiled softly at her, her determination and protectiveness over the North was continuing to surprise him daily. She only nodded in return, not wanting to appear soft in front of the other Lords. Their little moments together where their stony, Lord composures broke was just that - theirs.
"Ransoms be damned! We will not give up the Kingslayer!" Rickard Karstark thundered.
"Perhaps I do not understand tactics and strategy..." Catelyn stood, giving Fianna a stern look before shifting her gaze to meet that of the other Lords. "But I understand futility. We went to war when Lannister armies were ravaging the river lands, and Ned was a prisoner, falsely accused of treason. We fought to defend ourselves and to win my lord's freedom. Well the one is done and the other forever gone. I will mourn Ned for the rest of my days, but now I must think of my daughters - who the queen holds still.
"I want you safe, Robb, ruling at Winterfell, having had the chance to wed a woman and father a son," Catelyn was looking at Robb as she said this, and she did not miss the way his gaze flickered towards Fianna, which caused another stab of guilt at her stomach. She cleared her throat, ignoring it and continued "I want an end to this, my lords. I want to go home, and weep for my husband."
Catelyn sat then, the room having been silenced for the first time that entire day, and looked towards Fianna, who had been sharing a gaze with Robb again.
She realised at that moment, that even though he had pledged himself to marry a Frey girl, his true wife was before him now. Both by the wishes of their fathers and by pure emotion alone.
She wondered at that moment, if when he married the Frey girl, would he always have the Lady of Baelfort on his mind. He hadn't admitted it to her, but she was his mother. And she knew without a doubt, Robb had been falling for her.
An eruption of voices started again, much to Catelyn's dismay. They disagreed fully with her request for peace, save for Lord Blackwood.
They argued with each other once again, until Greatjon Umber lurched to his feet. His next words would seal Robb's fate forever.
"My Lords!" He shouted, "here is what I say to these two kings!" He spat on the ground, causing cheers to erupt. "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!" He reached down suddenly, everyone flinching in shock as he pulled his great sword from its sheath. "It was the dragons we bent to, and the dragons are all dead!" Fianna and Catelyn's heart almost stopped when he suddenly pointed his blade towards Robb. "There sits the only King I mean to bend my knee to, THE KING IN THE NORTH!"
He held his sword straight up then, and the entire council silenced. Fianna could feel her heart thundering in her chest, the atmosphere was absolutely electric.
She didn't even have to debate it, she knew in her heart Robb was the only person she'd ever pledge fealty to. He was young, but he was just. He was fair. He was a warrior.
He was her king.
As Robb stood up slowly, looking to the Greatjon with an unreadable expression, she stood too. She reached behind her shoulder and drew Wolfsbane from the sheath on her back, she held it in one hand by the hilt as she approached Robb to face him head on. His eyes widened at the sight of her.
"I'd sooner lose a leg before I'd bend my knee to a Southern who has no business in the North! My ancestors fought for the Stark Kings, and we never were as strong as when we ruled ourselves!" Her voice carried out across the crowd, filled with as much determination as when she had dragged her attacker out publicly. "From this day, until my last day, you are my King! I will fight for you and I will die for you!" She extended her sword up towards him then, solidifying her speech with her next words. "THE KING IN THE NORTH!"
That was all it took, and like the fiery burst of wild fire, the Northern Lords all stood at once, drawing their swords from their scabbards and shouting their words for all the seven kingdoms over to hear.
"THE KING IN THE NORTH! THE KING IN THE NORTH! THE KING IN THE NORTH!"
Robb looked out across the crowd, no longer their lord, but now their King. The rush that filled his body was absolutely indescribable as he heard the words his family was always meant to hear, but were denied of since the times of Aegon the Conqueror.
His eyes met Fianna once again, a breathtaking smile taking over her lips as she shouted the words - which caused a grin to appear on his as well, breaking his composure entirely, as it always seemed to do when she was around.