XLVIII. Goodbye and Hello

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Fianna

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Fianna

Fianna Stark had dealt with Northerners her entire life, and to this day, she was finally sure that she would never acquire the patience needed to handle them.

After all, Fianna herself was from the North - and possessed every stubborn, loud and brash quality her allies and predecessors did, as did her husband. Although she was proud of herself and her family, and would take being a Northerner over being a Southerner any day, it was meetings like this that tested her.

Seated in the centre of the high table in the Great Hall of Winterfell was Robb and Fianna, just where the King and Queen should sit. Beside them, rested Rickon, Sansa, Jon and Arya, who all looked equally as tired of the atmosphere in the room.

All of the Lords spoke over one another rather rudely, and when they finally were able to hear the individual comments made by one, it was usually a protest or an insult. Finally, having enough of the babble, Robb lifted his hands up and smacked them together, echoing a clap around the room.

"Enough!" He shouted, silencing their  voices instantly. "You will speak one at a time or you will not speak at all!"

"Your grace," Smalljon Umber stood up and called to him, his very presence was enough to irk Fianna. "You cannot expect us to side with Wildling invaders!"

"You sided with the Bolton's who slaughtered our own people, surely Wildlings are a step up from that?" Fianna couldn't help but fire back at him, instantly prompting his face to flush red as he received deathly glares from the rest of the room.

"And we didn't invade," Tormund added smartly, "we were invited."

"Not by us," Hatrick Hornwood replied when Smalljon took a seat. "We came to fight for the Queen in the North, the Wildlings were invited by Jon Snow."

"And the battle would probably have been lost long before my cousin arrived," Fianna disputed in their defence, "how many more of us would have been slaughtered if we didn't have the Wildling support?" Her words effectively silenced him, although murmurs rose up from the rest of the room.

"We find our true friends on the battlefield," Fianna remarked, "our true enemy now is the Bolton's, the Karstarks and the Flints. Their betrayal needs to be dealt with."

"The Bolton's are defeated, the war is over, Winter has come!" Henrick Mazin shot up. "If the maesters are right, it'll be the coldest one in a thousand years. We should ride home and wait out the coming storms."

"The war is not over," Jon couldn't resist cutting over Fianna before she could answer, "and I promise you, friend. The true enemy will not wait out the storm. He brings the storm."

Winter In My Heart | ROBB STARK.Where stories live. Discover now