418Thanks for the support guys. Every review/favorite/follow was awesome to see. I'd like to shoutout Guest44 for correcting an error I had last chapter. You were right, it was Barbrey Ryswell, not Dustin. Thanks to Maelor Vhagon as well, you were my first review EVER on fanfiction, so I was really happy when I read it.
Jon II:
Two weeks had passed since that first council meeting. The Northern lords had been slowly arriving ever since. In about two more weeks I would be officially crowned as the King of Winter. Preparations were already underway. Food was being brought in the castle, rooms were being prepared for all the lords, and day by day I was getting more and more anxious. All of the lords would be gathering here, every single one. All the northern lords had not gathered together since the War of 73 AC, where King Alaric Dragonkiller Stark had crushed the Targaryens and their dragons. Magic had been getting more and more potent lately, and everyone could feel it. It saturated the air, and the Children brought bad omens of things to come.
On the subject of marriage, I had decided to go through with my uncle's proposal. The North stood to gain food for winter at almost no expense to ourselves and we gained a powerful southern ally. Margery Tyrell was said to be very beautiful, and with her came a huge dowry, most of which would be negotiated in food. Given the reputation of her grandmother, she had most likely received a good education on politics and ruling, and while the North was different than the South, it would surely do her well. I was still nervous about my coronation. Would I be a good king? Did I have what it takes to rule? I was even worried about how a southern marriage would make me look infront of my lords. Seeing my insecurities, Maester Aemon imparted on me a piece of wisdom which I will never forget.
"You are worried about how your lords will view you are you not? If you shall be a good king? Allow me to give you one piece of counsel." he said. "The same counsel I once gave my brother when we parted for the last time. He was three-and thirty when the Great Council chose him to mount the Iron Throne. A man grown with sons of his own, yet in some ways still a boy. Egg had an innocence to him, a sweetness we all loved. Kill the boy within you, I told him the day I took ship to the North. It takes a man to rule. An Aegon, not an Egg. Kill the boy and let the man be born." He said while feeling my face, old memories living out in his mind.
"You are almost half the age that Egg was at his rise to Kingship. You will find little joy in it, but I know you have the strength to do the things that must be done. Kill the boy Jon Stark. Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy and let the man be born."
It was the morning of my coronation. All the lords had already arrived, and the leaders of the Giants and the Children of the Forest were also present. I was in my chambers when my aunt came in, a huge smile on her face. She came up to me and engulfed me in a hug. Then she went and greeted Ghost as well.
"Look at you! A man grown now, even more handsome than your father! A soon to be King! I am incredibly proud of you Jon! And how are you Ghost, you look great as well!" she said, while scratching his fur.
"Hello Aunt! How are you? What are you doing here?" I asked, happy but with confusion.
"Oh, so I need an excuse to see my nephew do I? I guess I am not wanted here" She said sarcastically.
"HA, you will always be welcome to speak with me. Do not worry Aunt." I replied smiling.
"Good, it better stay that way. In regards as to what I'm doing here, well I just wanted to see you. How are you feeling, are you ready?" She asked, smiling but with a bit of worry in her voice.
"I am ready. I don't know if I will be good or not, but I will do my best. To be perfectly honest, I am just a bit anxious, but nothing so bad that it will hamper me. Frankly I just want to get it over with."
"You know, your father was said the exact same thing before his coronation. It was a lot more tense due to the war, but in regards to kingship, he always felt as if he wasn't suited for it. Often he said that Ned would be the better King, and more than once he offered it to Ned, just to be refused."
I was shocked. I had always thought my father was comfortable in his kingship. He was very confident, and at least from what I remembered, wasn't one to second guess himself.
"I know it may seem difficult for you to imagine, but you're father doubted himself just as much as any man. The mark of a great king isn't to know everything, but to know what you don't know." she said. "You have advisors for a reason. Never take an uninformed decision." she continued.
"I'll tell you the single most important piece of counsel my father, your grandfather, told all of my siblings and I when we were younger. What makes a great king?" We all had different answers. Strength or Wisdom being the most common answers. We were all wrong. A great king does have all of those, yes, but the most important trait a great king could have is humbleness." she said.
"Aye, she has the right of it." said my uncle Ned, peering through the door. "I was going to look for you, the coronation is to start soon, but I believe finishing this lecture is more important. Lyanna, may I finish this lecture?" he said, laughing.
"Go ahead."
"Very well. As Lyanna said, there are many qualities a great king should have, but humbleness is the most important. It takes strength to admit you do not know something. Real wisdom is achieved once you acknowledge that there is still more to learn. Never conform yourself to what you know. If you do not know something, read or ask someone who does know. Do you understand me Jon?" he said.
"Aye, I understand more than you know. Thank you both, truly. You have put my mind at ease." I said gratefully.
"Then let us go. We have a coronation to go to." said Ned, a minuscule smirk in his face.
The doors to the throne room were opened, and I walked straight through the middle, Ghost trailing right behind me. On my left and right I could make out all the lords and heirs, and just at the front I could see the Leader of the Giants and the Children of the Forest, Mag the Mighty and Leaf. Right at the end of the room I could make it out. The Throne of Winter. Made purely of Ice, it stood at an elevated height, with 4 steps leading up to the seat. It had twin Direwolf sculptures, one on each armrest, and the throne was a bright blue color which never seemed to fade, courtesy of one of the great many spells woven into it. It never melted and it was said that only a Stark could sit comfortably in it, due to the magic in our blood. I had never sat on it myself, so I didn't really know what to expect. Behind it were various Stark trophies hanging.
Among them, three stood out. Red Rain, a valyrian steel sword which belonged to House Drumm, was the first thing you could see. It currently had no wielder, and as such was hanging on the wall until someone worthy could get it. Joramun's Horn was the second trophy present, an object which could bring down the Wall with one blow. Finally, and most certainly the most important, was the Fist of the First Men. A 1 handed Warhammer etched in runes so old not even the Children knew of them, it was said to be the weapon Brandon the Builder used to combat the Others. It was the single most important possession of House Stark, so important that no king had ever grabbed it since it was hung up, thousands of years ago.
Once I finally got to the end of the room, I started climbing the steps to the throne. Once I finally sat down, I experienced a feeling of calmness. Everything felt perfect and all my worries were stashed away. I faintly heard the rest of the speech my Uncle Eddard was giving until my cousin Robb walked closer and handed him a long dragonglass container. Instantly all of my focus was back on the proceedings. I knew what that was.
"Your Grace, it is time for you to leave Frost, the Sword of Princes, behind, and take in hand the Sword of Kings." he said.
I handed him Frost and he opened the black box and the temperature instantly dropped. A crystal blue sword oozing cold could be seen. It was a bastard sword made of pure ice, from the handle and guard to the top of the blade. Every northman knew what it was, Ice, the Sword of Kings. It was made with foul magic, having been the blade of the Night King himself, and it was taken as a trophy once he was defeated by Brandon the Builder. It had been passed from King to King throughout eight thousand years, all with a single purpose in mind, to not forget the Others. The North remembers, Starks most of all.
Seated, I took the sword in hand and felt power course through me. I had never felt greater relief than at that moment. The sword was known to pick its wielders, and those who were rejected could not hold it due to the extreme cold they felt while having it in hand. In comparison, to me it felt like it was made for me to wield it. I felt an extreme calm while handling it.
Once I snapped out of my sword induced stupor, I saw my Uncle grabbing the Crown of Winter. It was made up of rune encrusted Weirwood. It had 8 spikes and right in the middle of the crown the face of a Direwolf can be found. It was said that this was also the original Crown of Winter worn by Brandon the Builder, with each spike appearing after 1,000 years had passed. We did not have a way of verifying this, but the runes encrusted in the crown were powerful according to the Children. Finally, he placed it on me and said:
"With this I name you, Jon Stark, King of Winter, Lord Protector of the North, King of the Children, Giants and the First Men."
After that, all the Lords, Giants and Children knelt and spoke the following in the Old Tongue:
To Winterfell we pledge our faith.
Hearth and Heart and Harvest we yield up to you, my lord.
Our swords and spears and arrows are yours to command.
Grant mercy to our weak, help our helpless, and justice to all, and we shall never fail you.
We swear it by earth and water.
We swear it by bronze and iron.
We swear it by ice and fire.
Authors Note:
I'm gonna start of by clarifying that Frost, the Heir's Sword, is cannon Ice (Valyrian Steel Sword). The Starks and the North have multiple Valyrian Steel Swords, the reason for which will be explained later on.
So, Jon is a king now. Dope right? I'm having a blast writing this. Hope you guys liked the lore and magical elements I added in here. It seemed right since Children are out and about, so their magic wouldnt have died off, and Starks having cool shit like a Other Sword or the "Fist of the First Men" is fucking awesome to me, so yeah. I hope you guys are having fun reading this too. Please leave a review if you can, any type of feedback is welcome.
On chapter updates, I think I'm gonna go for at least 1 a week. I'll try to post more than that though, but that should be the least you can expect from me. Thanks for reading guys!