Second of His Name

I was inspired by a story called 'King in the North' by The Black King. So I decided to make my own version of it. Don't own anything and hope you like.

Chapter 1

3rd Person Pov

Robb Stark was glad that his brothers were safe. He had gotten Jon away from the Wall before he could take his vows. He had been in Winterfell for months acting almost like a Castellan and he was in charge of all of the weapons and men there, taking some pressure off of his crippled brother's shoulders. He had ridden in last night followed by two young men around his age with Theon and three other Ironborne in a cage. Jon and his friends had brought their own tents and set them up at the edge of camp. His brother was currently seated across from him and they were speaking of the happenings in Winterfell.

"How is little Rickon?"

"He is well, and just as wild as always. Thank the gods for Osha, she's the only one with an inkling of control over him."

"That's good, and Bran?"

"He is fine, even though he has some troubling dreams sometimes I can only assume that it's the war and from stress."

"I wish it didn't have to be like that. How is Greyjoy?"

"Well enough, a few bruises, a couple cuts, and he smells like he rolled around with swine. Other than that he is fine."

"Good-" His lady mother enters the tent and seeing Jon, freezes in shock. "Jon could you please go and fetch Ser Bryden and Lord Edmure? I need their council on something."

"Of course your grace," Jon bowed politely and greeted Catelyn before leaving the tent. His mother didn't acknowledge his greeting.

Jon left and Robb watched his mother as she shook herself out of her shocked state. She seemed to study him as if trying to find out how he had gotten Jon away from the Wall. Most likely because she thought he had taken the black. She straightened her back and then decides to forgo formality and scold her son.

"What is he doing here? I thought he took the black."

"Jon has been acting as a castellan in Winterfell for months, keeping my brothers and your sons safe. He came here to bring me the traitor Theon Greyjoy and four other Ironborne."

"You didn't think to tell me?"

"Yes and? I knew you would reject it. However, Bran and Rickon needed family and of all of the grievances you have against him being a bad brother isn't one of them. You also know it was father's plan to make a steward to the family. Winterfell and my brothers are safe because of him."

"Will he be going back to Winterfell?" She asked not liking either scenario that Jon was involved in, besides being far away at the Wall.

"No, he will be staying here. After I was crowned King I knew that I am now a bigger target. I need people I can trust and I also need someone to lead incase I am killed."

"What about Bran? Or Rickon?"

"Would you want them to lead men into war? To their deaths?"

"You know I don't want that."

"You know that Jon is the only living Stark. True-borne or not that can lead men into war. He is the only solution."

There's silence in the tent. He hears feet walking up and knows that Ser Bryden, Edmure, and Jon. They stop in front of the flap and Jon said.

"Your grace, I have brought the men you requested."

"Please come in Jon."

Jon opens the tent and allows the Tully men to go in first before following behind. He sees Catelyn glaring at his half-brother and Jon almost shrinks. He decides to get him as far away from Catelyn during this conversation as possible.

"Jon, please go tend to the men you brought from Winterfell. Including the Ironborne."

Jon bows and leaves the tent with a slight bounce in his step. Robb almost raises an eyebrow but assumes he must have brought men from the Wall that had been put there unjustly. Edmure looks at his sister.

"Catelyn I don't know why you are glaring at him. He was nothing but polite. He's not a person that could bother me."

"You wished to see us your grace?" His great uncle asked.

"Yes, and you are family call me Robb."

"Alright King Robb what did you wish of us?" Edmure asked curious.

"I was discussing something with my mother and I believe I should give you the same discussion. When I was crowned King I knew that I painted a target on the back of my head. This made me think of what would happen should I die. I am not married, nor do I have my own heir. My brothers are all too young to be leading men to war, there would be a severe problem should I die. The army would be left fractured and leaderless."

"Of course your grace but who would you appoint?" Asked Edmure.

"I am thinking of naming my brother Jon."

"He is a Snow. However, if he were legitimized I could see merit in the idea."

"Uncle Bryden!"

"You can't honestly expect that we would be led by a child of ten? He has Stark blood Catelyn, and while I'm not exactly the best reference. A son of Ned Stark's would never veer for power that wasn't theirs. If he is in charge I doubt that he will take your son's inheritance. If he wanted that, he would have left them to the Greyjoy."

"I concur. I know you are worried Catelyn but the boy is honorable to a fault just like his father." Says Edmure.

"Jon would be regent in the case of my untimely death should it occur. If it doesn't and we go home then he can go back to the Wall or stay in Winterfell, and continue the line of Starks."

"Robb you can't go through with this."

"I can and I will. I will not have our cause forgotten or broken if I were to die. I will not let the men who killed my father go unpunished. Ser Bryden, could you please escort my mother to her tent and gather the other lords."

"Of course, your grace. Should I also collect Jon Snow?"

"No, I will send for him later."

Ser Bryden bows and leaves the tent after taking his niece's arm. Edmure looks thoughtful and is quieter than he usually is. Robb sighs not knowing how to deal with his mother's extreme hatred of Jon. He understood that Jon was a bastard, but he didn't know why else she would hate him. Robb remembered him as the best-behaved child out of all of his siblings. He was a very good big brother, and it wasn't as though he was unlovable.

"Catelyn is scared of him." Robb's eyes snapped up and looked up at his uncle incredulously.

"What do you mean by that uncle?"

"She was always afraid of him. Your bastard brother. Afraid that he would take her sons' birth right. He was a very quiet child and well-behaved from what I've heard from her. She was afraid that he would deem you and your brothers unworthy of Winterfell and the North and legitimize him. Then make him the Lord of Winterfell instead of you and your brothers."

"Well, I doubt that Jon would have wanted it. He was very surprised when I sent him a raven asking him if he would be the castellan of Winterfell. I cannot say that he is not a good leader, his defeat of the Ironborne with only two other men helping is proof enough. He was always the better swordsmen."

"Really?"

"Yes, I remember when I was younger… I was jealous of him. He just had this innate talent for sword play. I would almost always be bested by him and he was always smaller than me. It drove me mad when I was younger. I can't help but think that he is the son of Ashara Dayne."

"I have not had the honor of seeing him fight."

There is silence and the lords begin entering. The two men straighten their backs and within a few moments the tent is filled with the lords of the North.

"Your grace, may we ask why you summoned us?"

"News, the Ironborne were successfully driven from Winterfell. We have Theon Turncloak in our custody as we speak."

"That is wonderful news your grace. I trust your brothers are well?"

"Yes, they are safe. However, this whole ordeal has gotten me to think. What should happen if I die? I have no wife, no child, and my brothers are but boys. I would not want the North to be fractured and leaderless, and allow the traitorous Lannisters leave from our wrath."

"You wish to name a successor?"

"Yes, that is why I was speaking to my uncle. I wanted to make sure the choice would be accepted over my brothers. He and Ser Bryden agree that it would be fine."

"Who is it your grace?"

"I will name my base born brother both a Stark and my heir should I die without an heir who has come of age."

"You mean Jon Snow."

"He will be legitimized. From what I have heard from his grace, is that the boy is a talented swordsmen and commander." Edmure defended.

"He was the one who subdued the Ironborne. He only had two other able-bodied and disciplined men in his command, against seven Ironborne. Even though he had trained those that had been left behind how to hold a sword."

"I see, when will this be made known, your grace?"

"I will do so if you agree. In front of the entire host."

"What of your Lady mother?"

"My mother has an irrational hatred for him. While I understand she doesn't want her sons' birth right to be taken, she fails to see past that. She has been rather emotional since my father's death."

"I see the merit in the idea. However, he would have to earn the respect of the men here before he could do anything." Lord Umber said.

"I have no doubt that he wouldn't be able to accomplish such a feat."

"Shall we send someone to fetch him, your grace?"

"Yes, please do. He is either tending to his men or the Ironborne." Robb's Frey squire bows and runs off to find his brother. The other Lords begin speaking of other trivial matters. A few asking when will he marry one of Walder Frey's daughters.

Moments pass and the tent flap opens and the squire and Jon enter. Jon seems confused as to why he was here but didn't forget himself.

"You asked for me your grace?"

"Yes, please sit. We have much to discuss."

"Of course your grace." Jon took a small chair that was between Great Jon Umber and Ser Bryden.

"Because of recent events I have started to question what will happen to the Northern host should I die? While Bran and Rickon are unharmed, should they have died I fear Tyrion Lannister would have inherited Winterfell due to his marriage to Sansa." Jon seems shocked by the news, and asks.

"May I ask why you are telling me this, your grace?"

"Jon, if I am to die I need someone I can trust to lead. That is why as of now you will be known as Jon Stark, and my heir should I have none, and our brothers are still too young to lead."

"Y-yo-your gra-grace, I-I am ho-hono-honored. Fo-forgive me i-if I shoul-should speak out of term. However shouldn't one of these fine lords or maybe Ser Bryden lead the host? I am just a base born of your father-"

"That is why I have chosen you. You have Stark blood in you, and are the son of the liege lord, base-born or not. I can trust you not to take my brother's inheritance, and I know that our father will be avenged should I die."

"What of our brothers and Lady Catelyn?"

"Bran and Rickon are too young. Lady Catelyn didn't take the news well, but she needs to understand that you are the only male in the family that could lead men in the near future."

"I see."

"Come, we will announce this to the host." Jon seemed panicked and pale but followed his elder brother to the middle of camp. The two brother's dire wolves joining their respective masters as they walked to the middle of camp. As the lords had their men tell the others to gather around the middle of camp.

It took a few moments but Robb Stark looked at the host of men from both the North and Riverlands, and knew he could change the course of history. His brother was next to him and their dire wolves sat, docile, at their masters' sides. All of the men were quiet and staring curious.

"My brothers and Winterfell are safe!" There are cheers, "thanks to the man next to me. You might know him, you probably do not. His name is Jon Snow, and he is my brother! However, throughout all of this I realized that if I die we would be fractured, and could let our tormentors go. Do you wish for that?!" There is a resounding 'NO'. "Your lords and I discussed who would be leader in these circumstances. Jon kneel." His brother gets on his knees. "You kneeled as Jon Snow, Bastard of Winterfell. Rise as Jon Stark Prince of the North!"

There are even more cheers from the men knowing that their vengeance will be carried out no matter what. The two men that came with Jon start to chant loudly.

"WHITE WOLF! WHITE WOLF! WHITE WOLF!"

This continues until all of the men in the host were screaming it. Jon blushes and is hugged by his brother tightly.

"I hope it never comes to me leading." Robb pats him on the back.

"But if it does. I know you'll do great work."

So there you have it. Hope you like.