Fianna Bua, Lady of House Bua, never thought that she'd be riding off to war for the liege lord she hadn't even met.
But oaths are oaths, the Buas have fought alongside the Starks for centuries and she wasn't about to be hailed an oath breaker.
So w...
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Fianna
"My loyal men," Fianna began, "you may be wondering why I have called on you all, and it is with a heavy heart I do so."
She was stood on the slant of the hill at the camp, with her entire force spread out in front of her. She called out loud so every man would be able to hear. The morning had barely broke, and nobody had a chance to break their fast yet. But she wanted to get away early.
"I'm afraid, I will not be able to march on in this war much longer. Circumstances have forced me to return to Baelfort at once," there was an outcry immediately, the men's faces turning into confusion as they looked around at each other. "However I would request of you to stay and fight on in my name. Fight and win this war. Fight for Robb Stark, the King in the North."
The second she finished talking, her men all began to yell out in anger. It was hard to decipher one voice from another.
Christopher Meanma had been at the forefront of the crowd, so he stepped forward so his lady would be able to hear and see him.
"My lady, with respect, I marched to war for you, not for the Stark boy. I will not march behind a Stark. The Meanmas have been bannerman for the Buas for centuries. If you go home, we go too!"
Fianna's lips parted in shock, her eyes flitting up as the rest of her men had begun to shout out in agreement.
"We called him King because you did, but if it comes down to it, we'd bend the knee to you before any King." Another called. Fianna struggled to keep her composure, but the words touched her greatly.
"We will follow your orders as you are liege lord, but I must urge you, we will fight with half the spirit and half the strength as when we fought for you." Christopher continued, Fianna's heart pounding in her chest.
Ser Mick stepped forward then, and Fianna looked to him, feeling a pang of guilt that all the advice he gave her, she had blatantly ignored it. She should have listened, in hindsight.
"Wherever you go, I will go, my lady," he drew his sword, tossing it forward until it lay at Fianna's feet.
Christopher followed, ripping his sword out and placing it beside Ser Mick's. Then, like a chain reaction, the rest followed. Any man who could reach, tossed their sword at Fianna's feet. And those that could not, raised it high in the air. They all chanted one thing, a sort of nickname Fianna had begun to realise the World gave her and was not forgetting any time soon.
"She-wolf! She-wolf! She-wolf!"
The atmosphere was absolutely electric, and the only other moment in her life Fianna could compare this to would be when herself and the other Lords named Robb the King in the North.
