Chapter 63: The Great Council of 307 AC

Torrhen didn't know how long he had been sleeping for, but when he woke up on the cold, stone floor of his personal chambers he noticed that the sun was streaming brightly through the windows. He breathed easily at the sight of the daylight and made to get up, immediately walking to a wardrobe to grab some fresh clothes.

"Lord Torrhen." An elderly voice sounded. Torrhen turned to see Maester Luwin clearing up some vials from the bedside cabinet. "You are awake."

"Maester, how long was I out for?" Torrhen asked.

"Half a day." Luwin answered. "I am glad to see you are up."

Torrhen nodded, his arm hurt, but it had been placed in a sling by Maester Pylos before he had slept and other than that he felt fine. "How is he?" Torrhen asked, gesturing to the bed.

Robb had been taken to the Lord's chambers during the battle and Luwin had been instructed to see to only Robb by Ned, leaving Pylos, Sam Tarly and the other Maester's that had travelled in the war parties to tend to the other wounded. Torrhen looked at his elder brother sadly, he was still unconscious and the bite marks in his chest looked horrific, but Luwin was convinced he would live.

"Better." Luwin explained. "His fever is down, and his temperature is relatively normal. I am worried about his legs though, they are unresponsive so far. It seems that the venom has impacted his nerves."

Torrhen sighed sadly as he shrugged his dirty undershirt off and moved to the wash basin in the corner. "There is so much we don't know, but I am glad you are here, Maester." He said as he splashed his face clean.

Luwin bowed his head. "Thank you, My Lord." He said kindly. "If you'll excuse me, I must return to Pylos' stores and replenish. I want to try a leeching to see if the venom is in the blood stream."

"Of course." Torrhen nodded, washing his pits and his chest as the Maester exited. Torrhen sighed at the sight of his calm, unconscious brother before he went to get changed into some smarter clothes. He was glad to not be wearing armour for the first time in ages, but he kept the black theme, putting a smart black shirt on with grey detailing and some grey trousers. As he pulled on a pair of black boots the door opened again, and in came Ned and Arya.

"Tor." Arya whispered, rushing to his side and crushing him in a hug. "I feared when the giant crashed through the walls…"

"I'm fine, Arya." Torrhen said, wincing at the pain in his arm as he pulled away from the hug. "We are lucky."

Ned sat down at Robb's side. "How is he?" He asked, and Torrhen explained exactly what the Maester had told him. Once he had finished, Ned just sighed. "I pray he will walk again."

"He will live, that is what is important." Torrhen said firmly when the door opened again, and Jon and Bran were there this time. "Ah, the family reunites." He walked over to hug Bran tightly with his good arm, not having had the chance to greet his brother after the battle. "I'm sorry about Stannis."

Bran nodded. "I should have been quicker." He admitted.

"You did what you could." Jon insisted. "And you led thousands of men well." Torrhen could sense some unease in his words, but he was still so tired that he didn't question it.

Ned looked between everybody in the room and just had a wide smile on his face. "My sons." He whispered. "And daughter." He corrected at Arya's glare. "All of you are leaders and warriors that have seen us through perhaps the greatest potential crisis of all time, and I could not be prouder of any of you." He looked down at Robb and brushed the unconscious man's hair away from his face.

"What happens now?" Arya asked.

"Now, we mourn our dead." Bran said calmly. "And we crown Shireen."

Torrhen looked over at Bran. "Is Shireen the Queen?" He asked. "The law states…"

"That law isn't a law." Bran snapped, knowing what Torrhen was implying. "It's a guideline that has been followed for generations, but it isn't a law. Shireen is the only living child of Stannis and is of age, she will be Queen."

"We must debate this." Ned said softly, trying to stop the flaring of tempers in its track. "You are right of course, but there are many with claims to the Iron Throne. I would not have more war if we can solve this peacefully."

Bran looked like he was about to argue, but a knock on the door sounded. "Come in." Torrhen called, and the door opened to show the blonde hair of Daenerys Targaryen, dressed in one of Mira's black dresses.

"Dany." Jon smiled, moving to kiss his wife's head.

"I'm sorry to interrupt." She said quietly. "But it's time."

Torrhen looked around unknowingly, but Ned bowed his head solemnly. "Aye, let's go." He told his family. "We have a lot of dead to commit to the flames, let us send them off with dignity."

It was a sombre mood that filled Moat Cailin from the moment that the crowds gathered to burn the thousands upon thousands of the fallen, and the mood had lasted right until the return of nightfall when a number of the nobles and knights made their way to the Main Hall for a humble feast. Rank and geographical allegiance had almost flown out the window however, as the crowds were sat in groups that Ned Stark would never have expected years earlier. The Dornish had mingled with the Northmen as well as Reachmen, whilst the Stark patriarch noticed that Tyrion Lannister was talking closely with Quentyn Martell, who were both presumably speaking quietly about the loss of their kin.

Ned turned to his small group, the remaining 'elders' of the North. The Greatjon was uncharacteristically quiet and barely eating, apparently the usually boisterous man had seen a group of wights savage the Wildling Tormund, a man who the Umber Lord had grown fond of, and in retaliation he had become almost a beast with his ugly greatsword. The Umber needn't have been his usual boisterous self however, as another of Ned's companions, Maege Mormont, was boasting about Arya's takedown of the giant. Ned could see the cracks under the fierce woman's skin however and felt for his friend, the fate of her daughter was not one that Ned could possibly wish on even the Mad King.

Beside him, and what seemed to be the only other surviving Lord that travelled with Ned in Robert's Rebellion, was his loyal friend Howland Reed. The Crannogman could sense that Ned was feeling nostalgic and nudged him. "We won't fight another war."

"Gods." Ned groaned at the thought. "I hope nobody needs to fight another war for centuries."

Howland chuckled. "I don't know about that, but for decades at least, we will have peace now." He said as mystically as ever. "Though, that's dependent on us agreeing on a new King easily…"

That was easier said than done, Ned thought. Though on that thought he looked around at the room and realised two things. Firstly, that in the hall of Moat Cailin sat the majority of Lords that could actually form a viable Great Council. Secondly, that of the gathered Lords Paramount, of which all but Robin Arryn and Doran Martell were gathered, he was the most senior. "We may as well sort that out now then." Ned said, although his tone indicated how unhappy he was at the subject.

Howland just smirked. "One day of playing the ruler, Ned, then you can retire to Winterfell for good."

Ned just rolled his eyes, but he stood up anyway and made his way up to the high table where Torrhen was sat reliving the experience of seeing the Night King die with Arya, Cregan Glenmore and Domeric Bolton. He cleared his throat to gather their attention. "Torrhen, it's time to suggest a Council."

Torrhen looked at him questioningly. "Now?"

"Aye." Ned confirmed. "Best now when we have so many people gathered, so soon after the end of bloodshed. If we wait, then the disgruntled might fight the decision."

Torrhen shrugged, but Ned could see that he agreed with the logic. Ned's second son then stood up and banged his goblet four times on the table loudly, silencing the room. "Lord Stark." Torrhen deferred to Ned.

Clearing his throat again, Ned turned to the room to see hundreds of faces looking at him expectantly. "We have all suffered tremendous losses over the last year." He began by announcing. "I would take a moment here to raise a toast to all of the fallen, be it outside these walls, on the Iron Islands, or elsewhere in Westeros." He raised a spare goblet and stayed silent for a moment, before continuing. "We also must raise a toast in memory of our fallen King, Stannis. After the horrors of King Robert's death, King Stannis managed to pick up the pieces and solidify a united Westeros, something which hadn't been seen since the days of King Aegon the Unlikely. I am saddened to know that the King died before the fruits of his alliance could prove their worth, but I know he is watching us now, sternly smiling at our accomplishments." He heard a few muttered laughs, but the toast once again was observed mostly in silence. "But whilst we should look back on the fallen with fondness, we must also look to the future. I have been Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North through three wars now, and I have no wish for further bloodshed. With King Stannis' death it leaves the ruler of the Seven Kingdom's in doubt, with numerous legitimate claimants."

"Shireen is the rightful Queen." Bran called out from amidst some of the Crownlanders. "She was Stannis' heir and his dying wish was to crown her."

"Women cannot sit on the Iron Throne!" Loras Tyrell cried. "The law states…"

"There is no law!" Bran interrupted.

"But it is a precedent." Torrhen called over the rest of the room. "The Great Council of 101 after the conquest put that in place, and when we have legitimate male claimants, we shouldn't overrule that without a group decision."

Ned nodded. "Aye, and that is why I put forward the motion for a Great Council to be held within the week. We have claimants or legitimate representatives of claimants here in this room, as well as enough Lords, Ladies and heirs to come to a collective agreement on who should sit the Iron Throne. Every claimant should be heard and voted upon."

He could see Bran scowling in the background, but there were enough agreements to keep the youngest Stark in the room quiet. Ned watched as Renly stood up at that moment and addressed the room. "Lord Stark is right, this is a matter that must be settled quickly before the Kingdom falls apart."

"Thank you, Lord Baratheon." Ned nodded. "We should agree our claimants here and now, and then we can debate them more formally in the coming days."

Bran stood up almost immediately. "I nominate Queen Shireen Baratheon, King Stannis' chosen heir." He said sharply, and nobody dissented.

Loras Tyrell then stood up. "I nominate Lord Renly Baratheon. The precedent of the first Great Council is clear that only males should inherit the crown, and Renly is Stannis' male heir."

Ned could see that there was going to be some tense stand offs coming between the Baratheon parties, and things weren't helped when the leader of the Frey men stood up, Ser Walton. "If Stannis' daughter is to be debated, then King Robert's trueborn daughter should be too. I nominate Princess Ellyn Baratheon."

Ned sighed and closed his eyes in exasperation as he heard the shouts from Loras Tyrell and the Reachmen, the Lord of Highgarden being the loudest of them all. "She is but a babe!"

"But still a King's daughter!"

"We won't have a Frey as regent!"

"QUIET!" Torrhen roared, and his voice carried loudly silencing the room. "Ser Walton is right, Princess Ellyn at least has the right to be debated."

"As should the Targaryen's." A calm voice sounded from the side of the room, and suddenly all eyes were on Tyrion Lannister. Ned sucked in a breath as he waited for the Lannister to continue. "The Iron Throne is the creation of House Targaryen, they both have separate, legitimate claims, and they both have dragons to back those claims up."

All eyes then turned to another corner of the room where Dany and Jon were stood with Arya. Jon looked frantically like he wanted to bolt from the room, whereas Dany just looked tired. "House Targaryen lost the Throne at the Trident." She explained. "We both swore off all claims to the Throne in front of King Stannis in this very castle."

"And now King Stannis is dead." Torrhen countered. "I second this nomination, if we are inviting babes into the discussion for ruler then Jon and Daenerys should also be suggested."

As far as Ned could see that covered all of the senior claims, and so before the room could boil into more arguments he spoke loudly. "Are there any other legitimate claims?" Nobody said a word. "Then if we are all in agreement, those are the five nominees that we will discuss." Again, only murmurs. "Very well, if all of the representatives of their respective Houses would gather this room at dawn in two days time, then we will choose our ruler."

He stepped away at that point, leaving the room in a state of excited gossip as he sat back in his seat next to Howland Reed and downed a mug of ale, desperately willing to be back at Winterfell with Cat.

It was two days later when the Lords and Ladies at Moat Cailin gathered once more in the main hall, with a circular table with ten seats around it had been placed in the centre of the room. Down sat the representatives for each area of the Seven Kingdom's, with Ned, Edmure Tully, Tyrion Lannister, Loras Tyrell and Renly Baratheon all placed as the Lords Paramount of their respective regions. The Vale had collectively chosen a battered and bruised Yohn Royce to speak for them, the elderly Lord having survived purely because of the magic of his armour if his tales were to be believed. Also there as representatives of their regions was Quentyn Martell for Dorne and Bran for the Crownlands, whilst Jon and Daenerys shared a place, and Torrhen was there as the host.

Surrounding the table were as many people as could fit in the room, all separated into their regions. Torrhen breathed in deeply as he prepared to start proceedings, before banging his goblet on the table twice to get silence. "We all know why we are here. Together we will come to a collective agreement on who should rule the Seven Kingdom's."

"There are three Starks here." Renly made a point of saying. "Four, if you include the Targaryen. The bias…"

"Two Starks with voting power." Torrhen interrupted the Lord of Storm's End. "I am merely here as a host."

"And I can assure you, I will speak for my people, not those of the North." Bran said coldly, to the agreement of the few Crownlanders behind him.

Torrhen nodded. "And neither Jon, nor Dany have any voting power, they are merely here as claimants."

Jon agreed, stood behind the chair that his wife was sat in. "Bran is our acting Lord as the husband of Princess Shireen, his vote is ours."

"A vote that likely won't be for you." Edmure commented.

Dany smirked. "Perhaps, but he is our acting liege all the same." She looked around the table. "That being said, I would like to withdraw my claim."

Gasps were heard from around the room. "Is that wise, My Lady?" Tyrion asked. "You have as much right as any…"

"I have the least right of any." Dany countered. "My Father was deposed, and in the Targaryen line of succession Jon is before me." She placed a hand over her shoulder to rest it on Jon's. "That being said, if he is chosen, I will be Queen anyway and we would rule together."

"Are you sure?" Torrhen asked.

"I am." Dany confirmed. "I withdraw."

Renly had a smirk on his face, but his voice was pure decorum. "As you will, My Lady." He waited for Daenerys to rise out of her seat and peck Jon on the cheek before she moved towards the main crowd of the room and stood next to Arya. Renly then stood up and addressed the table. "My Lords, we need not bother with all this. The succession rulings of the past are clear. The male heir of the previous sovereign is to take the Throne."

"In choosing that would go directly against our former King's wishes as he lay bleeding to death." Bran said firmly as Renly sat back down. "I was there, My Lords. He handed me this crown and spoke the Princess Shireen's name." He slammed the crown in question on the table. "To choose any other is to go against His Graces wishes."

The arguments had been the same for days and Torrhen was sick of it. "This is exactly why we are all here." He explained. "King Stannis may have chosen Shireen as his heir, but the first King Viserys chose Rhaenyra."

"Firstly, we should discuss the merits of each choice." Ned input. "We have heard from you, Lord Renly, and we know you well. Princess Shireen was the chosen heir, and we know she will be a kind ruler."

"Kindness won't put down rebellions." Loras claimed.

"Are you expecting a rebellion, Tyrell?" Quentyn said calmly from his seat dragging the attention of the room towards him. "Are you planning to raise your swords if the decision does not go your way?"

Loras scowled. "Of course not. The Reach will adhere to democracy. But Lord Renly is right, he is the heir."

"That is to be decided." Lord Royce claimed firmly.

"Enough!" Edmure exclaimed, shocking the room with the Tully's display of authority. "We can talk in circles all we like, but we would be delaying this decision for longer than we need to." He took to his feet then. "Lord Walton Frey is my vassal, and so I shall speak for his claimant, Princess Ellyn Baratheon. Despite her young age, Princess Ellyn has been raised at court for all of her six years. She has learnt first-hand from both her Mother, the former Queen Walda, as well as the current Queen Selyse. Her education, though still early, is the most regal of anyone alive having been brought up as a Princess for her entire life. A regency council is achievable too, and we can have representatives of all of the regions of Westeros to promote one another's best interests."

Edmure sat down at that having finished his speech and Torrhen nodded. "Thank you, Lord Edmure."

Ned was the first to comment. "King Robert was my dear friend, and Princess Ellyn has been raised as an heir to him. That being said, I do not think that a decade long regency council is wise."

"I agree with Lord Stark." Yohn nodded. "There is much that needs to be rebuilt, and we need a firm voice in command."

More agreements rang around the table, with everyone agreeing that a child Queen just wasn't a feasible option. "Very well." Torrhen exclaimed. "Princess Ellyn shall be disregarded, although I assume she will still be raised and treated as her rank is entitled to?"

"Aye." Ned nodded. Torrhen knew that he had tentative plans to try and betroth Robert's girl to Beron, but the time to suggest that match was further down the line. "And I'm sure whoever does sit the Iron Throne will ensure that."

It was more of a warning than a request, and with Ned being the most senior Lord Paramount there, the rebukes weren't coming. Torrhen then cleared his throat and moved to continue the meeting. "Jon."

"Wait a moment Tor." Bran said. "I can see the way that this is going, My Lords, and I feel it only right that I speak to the merits of Princess Shireen." Renly rolled his eyes and Loras looked to switch off, but nobody vocally challenged Bran so he continued. "Lord Loras is right, Kindness won't put down rebellions, but that is where I come in. Shireen is the peacemaker, the diplomat. She will be there to encourage good relations between both ourselves as well as with Essos. She has been raised as the heir to the Iron Throne ever since King Stannis took the crown, and in her marriage to me she has a strong alliance, with familial links to the North, the Vale and the Riverlands. An alliance that overthrew the Targaryen's.

"The Stormlands played a part in that victory." Renly argued.

"And Shireen is still a Baratheon, My Lord." Bran bit venomously, before he took a deep breath and continued. "You may all dismiss her as she's a woman, but male rulers haven't exactly been infallible. Perhaps a woman is what we need to move forwards and build a better world."

Torrhen let everyone have their whispers as the speech settled in the minds of the gathered men and women, before he banged his goblet once more. "A fine speech, and one that must be considered."

"She is still going against precedent." Renly said. "I care for the girl I do, but let her rule the Stormlands as her name allows, not the Seven Kingdoms."

"Agreed." Loras said predictably.

Quentyn cleared his throat at that moment. "I say we consider the Princess. Dorne has had no issues with women ruling us, and it was a woman with no sight or movement that threw back Aegon the Conqueror when all of your ancestors crumbled before him."

"I agree." Ned said. "She should be considered at the very least."

"Agreed." Edmure confirmed, another predictably agreeing with his sister's husband.

All eyes were then on both Tyrion and Yohn Royce. The Valeman excused himself briefly to talk with the Vale's regency council, and so it was up to the dwarf of Casterly Rock to make his decision. "I have no issues with the Princess, nor with a woman ruling us." He stated. "But I believe there to be better options available to us, options that, even given your extensive lists of allies, will keep us strong and secure."

"We agree." Lord Royce said, although he obviously felt agreeing with the Lannister distastefully. "Whilst if chosen Princess Shireen would be an ally of the Vale, the council believes other options preferable."

"Where does that leave us?" Edmure asked.

Torrhen sighed. "A tie."

Bran rolled his eyes. "She is the clear choice."

"Renly is clear!" Loras began.

"Enough!" Torrhen roared, silencing the room. "I am sorry, Bran, but unless a majority agrees then we must stick to the precedents set before our births. Princess Shireen cannot be considered for Queen unless one of the Lords against change their minds." Renly and Loras clearly weren't going to, so all eyes flew to both Tyrion and Yohn once more, both of whom sat defiantly in their seats. "Very well."

Bran slammed his chair backwards and rose to his feet. "You all spit on King Stannis with this choice." He snarled, and he stormed out of the room.

Torrhen sighed. "I feel that is a good place to leave it for now, My Lords. Food will be served shortly, and we can reconvene afterwards."

"I will speak to Bran." Ned said calmly. "We can reconvene in a few hours, My Lords."

Ned rose gracefully then, and one by one men and women filtered out of the room to the courtyard, where food stations had been set up. Torrhen just leant back in his seat and breathed out heavily, not having expected the council to get so heated.

Bran stormed from the main hall all the way up to his chambers, slamming the door as he entered and kicking out at his crumpled-up armour from a few days before. "Fuck!" He cursed, as his boot connected with the chest plate, and he threw himself onto his bed to massage the painful area.

The door opened soon after, and the imposing figure of his Father stood in the doorway. "Now, I know that I didn't raise you to act so disrespectfully."

"King Stannis raised me." Bran snapped childishly.

Ned, to his credit, didn't show any emotion towards the hurtful comment. "And Stannis didn't raise you like that either."

"No, he raised me to do my duty and to follow the law." Bran exclaimed, standing up and moving towards the window. "The others… they disrespect him."

"They are doing what is right for themselves, rightly or wrongly, as are we." Ned explained.

Bran scoffed. "Renly just cares to be King. He was the same immediately after Stannis died. He didn't earn it, he didn't lead us to victory against Euron, nor did he lead us into battle with the dead. He sat at the back smiling and looking pretty for his Tyrell whore."

"Brandon." Ned snapped. "Enough, you are a man grown now, act like it." The Stark Lord sat down on Bran's bed and reduced his voice to a calm tone. "Renly and Loras have a powerful alliance, but so do we."

"We would have done." Bran muttered.

"We still can." A voice sounded from the doorway, and Bran looked over his shoulder to see Jon standing there. "I came to see how you were."

Bran sighed. "I'm infuriated."

Jon nodded, moving to pat Bran on the shoulder. "I would have conceded had Shireen not been discarded." He admitted. "But that time is gone, now we move forwards."

"Renly…"

"Renly would be a popular choice for the South." Jon interrupted Bran. "But I don't trust him. He is in the pocket of the Tyrell's."

Ned nodded. "Aye. Lady Olenna may be an ally for now, but she is an old woman and won't keep Loras in check forever and I don't trust his ambitions." Ned stood up again and moved to Bran's other side. "You have power in this, Bran. You have been chosen to lead the Crownlands and make a decision that will be viewed throughout history. I am sorry that Shireen wasn't picked, but Jon is still in the conversation and he has every chance of winning."

"You will keep Summerhall." Jon promised. "A prestigious seat, fully autonomous from the Stormlands and a direct vassal of the Iron Throne."

"A necessary buffer between the Reach and the Stormlands." Ned noted. "Smart."

Jon nodded. "That did come into mind I'll admit, but it's not the main reason." He turned to Bran. "I would also name you as Master of Laws, if you'd accept."

That surprised Bran a lot. "You would?"

Jon nodded with a smile. "You learnt from the best, Bran. Stannis was a fine ruler, I would be honoured to have you at my side whilst ruling."

Ned clearly appreciated the gesture. "You have already thought about your council?"

"I have." Jon nodded. "Dany's withdrawal was decided long ago, and whilst we agreed that we would hope for Shireen to rule, we needed to make plans otherwise. She will be my Hand."

That was another shock to Bran. "That's unprecedented." He spoke calmly.

"Some precedents can be broken without the agreement of the Lords of Westeros." Jon smirked. "We also agreed that the sibling incest has to end, and that should children be born to both us and you and Shireen, then we should speak about a union. Finally tie the two rival Houses together in a way that will hopefully last."

Bran was taken aback once more at the thought of children, but then he realised that now he was married of course the topic would be spoken about. "I guess Torrhen and Robb had children at younger ages." He muttered. "I would have to talk about that with Shireen, but I accept. You are the next best option."

Jon nodded, and if he was offended he didn't show it. "Thank you, Bran." Jon said honestly.

Ned smiled. "We should get some food, then it is up to us to convince the others that Jon is a better option."

The Lords and Ladies once again took their places inside the main hall of Moat Cailin for the final decision to be made. Torrhen was the last to take his seat, but as soon as he did he took a quick sip of ale and addressed the room.

"We have narrowed our options down to just two people." He announced. "Lord Renly Baratheon of Storm's End, the eldest male heir to House Baratheon, and Lord Aegon Targaryen, the last male heir to House Targaryen." He gestured over to Jon. "Would you like to address the room?"

Jon nodded, rising to his feet. "I would, thank you Lord Torrhen." Jon said formally. He looked around at the nobility surrounding the tables. "I wasn't raised to be a King, I wasn't even raised to be a Lord. I was simply the bastard of Winterfell, hidden away by my Father to keep the wrath that King Robert felt towards House Targaryen away from the only member of the House that was still reachable to him. Many of you may think that puts me at a disadvantage, but I disagree. As a bastard, you are treated like no more than the men and women that man our towns, that plough our fields and do all the work that allows us to live comfortably in our castles. I spoke often with the workers of Winterfell, I knew them, and I knew their minds. I would speak with the residents of the Winter town too, and I learned to understand what they valued and what they didn't in a ruler. I can take this upbringing and create a fairer world for both smallfolk and nobility. This last year has taught me that we can't just rely on those of noble birth, but every person in Westeros has a part to play to allow us to rebuild and then prosper. I have learnt from Lord Stark, an honourable and just man, and those teachings have formed me into a man that many of you followed to the gates of the seven hells. Allow me to lead you once more, and we will build a Westeros far greater than the one the Night King tried to destroy."

With that Jon sat down, and Torrhen turned to the Lord of Storm's End. "Lord Renly."

Renly smiled and stood upright, grinning around at the room. "Lord Aegon speaks truly, but his upbringing is exactly why he is not a fit choice for King." Renly then turned to Jon and spoke directly to him. "King Aegon the Unlikely also had an upbringing around the smallfolk, and he wished to use that to tie the hands of the nobles and force them to concede power. Can you guarantee that that wouldn't happen under your Kingship?"

Jon didn't betray any emotions as his dark eyes bore deep into Renly's blue ones. "I would be fair to both."

"Fair to both." Renly nodded. "Forgive me, My Lord, but being raised as a bastard would make you emotional in your decisions rather than pragmatic, as we were taught as young Lords. Mix that with a foreign Queen…"

"Careful Renly." Ned warned.

"I mean no disrespect." Renly held his hands up. "I am simply pointing out the difference in the choices. We have a man raised as a bastard and hidden away from the intrigues of court and a woman who didn't step foot on Westerosi soil until she was of age, or we have a man who was raised in King's Landing who is the rightful heir of the House that has kept the peace for almost 25 years and a Queen who is of the strongest House in the lands." Tyrion scowled at that remark, but Torrhen couldn't argue with Renly's assumption after the Lannisters had been humbled years earlier. "Top that off with what will inevitably become a clear bias for the North…"

"Slander!" The Greatjon roared from behind Ned.

"You would be biased towards the Reach, Lord Renly." Jon ignored the outburst and countered. "It is not a well-kept secret about your love for House Tyrell. Given they are, as you say, the strongest House, how can you be sure you won't bend for their ambitions and wishes?"

It was a bold statement and the undertones were clear to see, and Torrhen couldn't help but smirk at how brave Jon was being. Renly went red, and Loras slammed his fists on the table. "Outrageous!" The Lord of Highgarden exclaimed.

"An observation." Tyrion added. "And a fair one given Lord Renly's previous remarks about the North."

"We all know about the madness that follows a Targaryen dynasty." Renly said calmly, though his eyes raged at the comments. "You are married to your aunt, Lord Targaryen."

Jon nodded. "I am, and I will not deny it. Though we together have already unofficially outlawed sibling marriages, even for House Targaryen. If chosen to rule, that will happen as a rule of the land."

"Incest is still incest no matter the familial relationship." Loras began. "And a child born from incest…"

Ned leant forwards at that moment, and Torrhen was in awe at how easily he could gain attention. "My own parents were cousins, Lord Tyrell." He began calmly. "Would you like to continue as to what you believe that makes me?"

Loras had the decency to look alarmed, and Quentyn Martell took that moment to roll his eyes and say. "I believe we have heard both arguments. We should vote."

Torrhen agreed. "Aye, if the 8 voters would like to discuss this with their Lords, we shall reconvene once we have all come to a decision."

The sound of chairs scraping against the stone floors sounded through the room, and Torrhen moved to join Ned and the rest of the Northern Lords and Ladies. "I have made my mind up, My Lords and Ladies, but I would hear your thoughts." Ned said.

"Jon." Domeric said quickly.

"Aye." Maege and Edrick Dustin agreed.

The Greatjon also nodded. "Aye, he is a Northerner, Ned. He would be a keen ally in the cesspit, better than the poncy flowers for sure."

Ned smirked. "Very well then." He turned to Torrhen. "What do you think the others will do?"

Torrhen sighed. "Renly and Loras' votes are obvious. Bran will vote with us though."

"The others?" Ned asked.

"Lord Royce is a fan of neither, so it will be down to who the Vale collectively choose." Torrhen explained. "The Frey's will want Renly so they are closer to the throne with Princess Ellyn, though the rest of the Riverlords may disagree."

"Lannister will vote for Jon." Domeric input. "Renly's comment about the spawn of incest spawned a hatred in his eyes."

Members of the Council were making their way back to the tables at that moment, and so Ned sighed. "Very well, time to make history."

As they all took their seats again, Torrhen looked around the table. "I will call upon each voter in turn, going around the table. Lord Stark?"

"The North votes for Lord Aegon." Ned explained. "I have known him since he was a babe, and I am convinced that he shall be a fine and just King."

Torrhen nodded. "Lord Tully?"

Edmure Tully sighed for a moment. "The Riverlands have decided to vote for Lord Aegon." Was all he said.

"Lord Royce?" Torrhen moved along.

Yohn stood up. "I have made it clear throughout my last two decades that I am not a fan of Targaryen rulers. The Mad King still lingers in my memory, and it will not be easily shaken. Having said that, Lord Aegon has shown me that he is nothing like his Grandfather, and he is the man who defeated the Night King. The Vale Regency Council have voted for Lord Aegon."

That was three out of the five needed. "Lord Baratheon?" Torrhen asked, knowing the result already.

"Does it need saying?" Renly grinned. "I vote for myself."

"Lord Tyrell?" Torrhen moved along, again knowing.

"Lord Renly."

Torrhen then looked over at his brother. "Lord Brandon?"

Bran sighed. "My wife is a Baratheon, but she would be wroth with me if I chose somebody below her in the succession. Given his leadership in battle and his kindness that has been evident to the Lords of the Narrow Sea already, Lord Aegon is the choice of the Crownlands."

Just one more vote was needed, and so Torrhen turned to Tyrion for his vote. "Lord Lannister?"

"The West and the Targaryen's had a fine working relationship for many years before things turned sour. I would see that relationship built once more. King Aegon has my vote."

Cheers came from the small corner of the room holding the Crownland Lords as the Lannister vote meant that Jon couldn't be caught, and Torrhen tried to hold a smile back as he turned beside him. "Prince Quentyn?"

Quentyn shrugged. "It doesn't matter it seems, but my family has enough reason to dislike both of these options, and it would be so easy for us to just claim our independence now and be free of the families that have caused us so much pain. That being said, I know my Father would not wish for that, and he would approve of the choice we have made today. Dorne votes for King Aegon."

Torrhen nodded. "Then as the host of the Great Council of 307AC, I, Torrhen Stark, Lord of the Causeway, do hereby announce that the King of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm is King Aegon Targaryen, the Sixth of his Name. Long may he reign!"