Epilogue: The North

"Father, Arya just threw her food at me!"
Robb smiled, thinking of how much his younger daughter was like her namesake, Robb's dead little sister. "Well I think she should go to bed, don't you?"
Lyanna smiled. "Yes, father."
He watched his seven year old {if red_god=0}bastard {endif}daughter pick up her little half-sister and carry her out of the Great Hall, ignoring her loud protests. Both had their mothers' hair color, Lyanna {if sansa_lover=1}Sansa's auburn red{elseif daenerys_lover=1}Daenery's silver blonde{else}Margaery's light autumn chestnut{endif} and Arya Gilly's dark brown.
"Let's hope they'll see a long summer", the lovely voice of his {if sansa_lover=1}sister{if red_god=1}-concubine{endif}{elseif red_god=1}concubine{else}lover{endif} brought him out of his thoughts. {if sansa_lover=1}Sansa{elseif daenerys_lover=1}Daenerys{else}Margaery{endif} sat down next to him and gave him a long, loving kiss. {if red_god=1}With the faith of R'hllor widely adopted in the North, he no longer had to hide the love for his sister or his polygamy. None of his children would be burdened with the stain of bastardy.{else}His affair with {if sansa_lover=1}his sister{elseif daenerys_lover=1}the Targaryen girl{else}the Tyrell girl{endif} was no secret in Winterfell since their daughter's birth.{endif}

Winter had ended, the White Walkers had been defeated, the Free Folk had populated many parts of the North. But peace never lasted long in Westeros. Robb cleared his throat and stood up, making the feasting Lords and Ladies interrupt their conversations and look at him.
"As you know, King Stannis has left no heir", Robb began. The King had died a fortnight ago, and his daughters Shireen, Roslin and Myranda had not survived the harsh winter. "The Freys are in control in King's Landing, but it seems the Meadows of Highgarden, the Martells of Sunspear and the Swyfts of Cornfield are inclined not to remain under the Iron Throne's peace."
The Lords whispered for a few moments, then fell silent again. Before Robb could speak again, Lord Robett Glover stood up. "Mylords", he said. "the last time we were in this situation, we made the Young Wolf our King. He proved strength and wisdom by kneeling again to prevent more senseless **** and destruction. He avenged Lord Eddard's ****, he fought back the Great Other, and he united us with the Free Folk, bringing prosperity to the North. This time, there is no rightful King to support, no duty to follow, and Winter has just ended. The dragons are dead, the stags are gone, and {if red_god=1}R'hllor{else}the Gods{endif} shall strike me down if I ever follow the fucking Freys!"
Laughter erupted, but quickly died down again - everyone felt the suspense in the room. Robett Glover unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards Robb.
"Robb Stark made the North strong again. He is my King, from this day until my last. The King in the North!"
Robb was less surprised than he had been the last time, but he still needed a moment to come to terms with this. He looked at Sansa who smiled happily, then Jon who gave him an encouraging nod.
Dacey Mormont stood up. "Lord Glover speaks the truth. The Starks have always protected us. Let the Southerners squabble over that iron chair. The King in the North!"
Before Robb could say anything, Lord Tormund stood up as well. "You know I'm not a kneeler, and never will be. But if not for you, none of my people would have survived the winter. I've always thought us Northerners should hold together. The King in the North!"
And with that, all the other Lords drew their swords and joined in. "The King in the North!"

It was a long evening of celebration. When Robb finally went to his room, he found his consorts all sleeping. His cock was throbbing, he needed a fuck before going to sleep. Just as he was seriously considering waking Gilly up, someone knocked. He went to the door and opened it.
Lady Melisandre, who had arrived earlier that day after the Freys had outlawed her faith and banished her from King's Landing, greeted him with a seductive smile. With her was Lyanna Mormont, a stunning, black-haired girl of 18 years, and Wylla Manderly, a blonde woman, about five years older.
"Now that you are King you will need an appropriate number of concubines", Melisandre said as Lyanna and Wylla opened their dresses. Robb gave the Red Priestess a hungry look that she interpreted correctly. "Of course that includes me."

Robb grinned. "It's good to be the King!"