III.

                                    

                                          
CHAPTER THREE
[ the girl from volantis ]

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
EVEN IN GRIEF, THE WAR CARRIED ON. They had to decide where they would go from then on, for Robb had declared that he would take Joffrey's head. Which king that had recently taken up arms against the boy would they support: Robert's older brother Stannis, or his younger brother Renly? Renly was the better man, but Stannis had a better claim. Robb, Asena, and the northern lords gathered to debate what to do next after the sun had set. 
"The proper course is clear," one said, "pledge fealty to King Renly and move south to join our forces with his."
"Renly is not the king," Robb told him, interrupting.
"You cannot mean to hold to Joffrey, my lord. He put your father to death."
"That doesn't make Renly king," he retorted to the lord only, then projected his voice so everyone could hear. "He's Robert's youngest brother. Bran can't be lord of Winterfell before me, Renly can't be king before Stannis."
"Do you mean to declare us for Stannis?"
"Renly is not right!" Someone shouted from the back.
"My lords," Greatjon Umber began, standing from his seat and walking to the front of the room, "my lords! Here is what I say to these two kings." He leaned over to spit into the dirt. "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!" Laughter followed his statement, rippling over the crowd. 
"Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again?" He asked, and it was then that Asena understood what was about to happen. "It was the dragons we bowed to. And now the dragons are dead." She suppressed the smile pushing its way onto her lips at that remark. The Greatjon then drew his sword, and pointed it at Robb. "There sits the only king I mean to bend my knee to. The King in the North!"
He knelt before Robb as he declared this. Robb stood, awaiting more, and more he got. Another lord and Theon followed, both pledging themselves to the King in the North. 
Asena took a deep breath, and stood from her seat beside Robb. She met his eyes and gave him a small smile, before drawing her sword and dropping to one knee. "You are my family," she told him, looking up at her friend, her brother, her king, "and I am with you until the end. The King in the North!"
Echoes of 'The King in the North!' echoed across the crowd of men, repeated again and again and again as men drew their swords and knelt before him, and as Robb stood there in front of them, he looked every bit a king.