Lyanna had never expected it to be easy, but she didn't think that her first meeting with the bannermen would be as chaotic as it was.

Voices were calling from every direction of the hall, each of them calling out for a different cause. Some were in opposition of the Wildling force, deciding it was going against tradition to rely on such an uncouth army. Others were opposing the Easterners, refusing to acknowledge the fact that they'd followed Lyanna the longest and blindly followed her to another country for a cause that wouldn't have affected them at all. Most were opposing the Tyrell presence, not wanting Southern help even though most of them would be dead without them (not that it bothered Garlan, who sat on one of the benches watching the debate with a casual smirk, occasionally glancing up to Lyanna, rolling his eyes at the debacle he had caused). All, however, were calling out about the importance of getting home before winter.

On the top bench, Lyanna was sat in between Jon and Sansa, both of whom equally looked lost as to how to dissolve the situation. The hall which she had only ever seen Lord Stark rule over had never been filled with this much trouble in her memory, and so she really had no idea how to control the situation. Not that she let anyone catch on, as she remained composed, her hands folded on the table in front of her, her gaze fixed on the back of the room, where the Stark banners were now hanging once more. She hoped that her calm demeanour would be noticed and everyone else would follow suit, but instead the room was reflecting her internal crisis of how in seven hells she was meant to fix this situation. 

"It's one thing to expect us northerners fight with Wildling and foreign invaders but Southerners too? Especially the flowery-arsed Tyrells, of all people!" One lord shouted, Lord Glover, who'd finally decided to show up. Lyanna noticed his nose was more crooked than last time, and smirked slightly. 

"We didn't invade, we were invited!" Tormund called, glancing over to Jon.

"Us too," Cassius called, though she looked much more bored and a lot less insulted by the events in front of her than the wildlings. "Lady Stark asked us to come with her, so we did, we were wanted,"

"Not by us!" Another called up. 

"You didn't have that attitude when I pulled you out of range of a Bolton spear, my Lord," Garlan called back calmly, though he flashed a sarcastic grin, Loras at his side glaring at the man ever so slightly.

"The Northerners, the Wildlings and the Tyrells fought bravely, fought together and we won," Jon spoke up, standing up as the room dulled. "Our father used to say that we find our true friends on the battlefield,"

"He said that back when battles were for men, not little girls," one man called up, shooting a look at Lyanna. 

At this, Lyanna stood, deciding she'd had enough of listening, trying to remain calm. 

"My apologies, ser, if the battle did not live up to your expectations!" she called. "We had a common enemy, the Boltons. We united as one, and we defeated our common enemy. We won, it does not matter who fought on our side, because we joined as one force. And besides, I did not see you volunteering to lead the army, or ride a dragon into Winterfell. In fact, I didn't see you there at all! You can call me a girl, but at least I was there. The same goes for the Tyrells! They are the North's strongest and most true ally, and they answered the call when half of you ignored your vows to house Stark,"

"Fine, if you say our enemy is defeated, we should ride home, all of us," another man stood, calling out to the whole hall. "Winter has come, and they say it'll be the coldest in years. We should go home and wait out the coming storm," 

Beside Lyanna, she noticed Jon stiffen slightly. The man's words had struck him, and he remembered all he'd seen beyond the wall. He remembered the very real and very terrifying threat of the Night's King, and what will come with the storm of winter during the Long Night. 

"The war isn't over, and the true enemy won't wait out the storm," Jon spoke up one more, his face so deathly serious Lyanna instantly became worried. "He brings the storm,"

The room fell into murmurs once more, each man now discussing the new threat of winter, and Jon's confession of it's true danger. Lyanna glanced around the room, seeing varying reactions. The Wildlings all seemed to accept Jon's words, after all, a fair few had seen the situation beyond the wall. The Northerners understood too, but it was the Tyrells Lyanna worried for. Allies they may be, they had never fully experienced Winter in the North, and Lyanna instantly felt guilty for drawing them into a situation they may have been able to avoid. 

Lyanna had just gotten used to the whisperings of the room when she heard a bench squeak back against the stone floor. She expected another call of rebellion against Jon's words, but instead her eyes fell upon Lyanna Mormont. She may have been young, but her face was serious, and hardened, a true northerner. Upon seeing Lyanna looking, she offered her a small smile, though her expression grew hard once she turned to the others in the room. 

Lady Lyanna Mormont, in that moment, reminded Jon of one person; his sister, Lyanna. She looked like she was as strong as any of the others in the room, even if they were three times her age, and that she was not going to back down on whatever she thought. 

"Your son was butchered at the Red Wedding, Lord Manderley, but you refused the call," she fixed her gaze on one of the older men in the room, her strong gaze intimidating as Lyanna saw the instant shame fall on the Lord, not that Lady Mormont noticed, as she turned her focus on another, her words packed with venom. "You swore allegiance to House Stark, Lord Glover, but in their hour of greatest need, you refused the call. And you, Lord Kerwin, your father was skinned alive by Ramsay Bolton, but still, you refused the call!

"But House Mormont remembers, the North remembers! We know no King but the King in the North who's name is Stark! Except, when all of you Lords are left in charge of the North, you forget who really remembers what the North has been trialled with. Jon Snow fought bravely, but Lyanna Stark remembered, and she made right of every wrong the North was put through. She led the North in our greatest hour of need whilst the rest of you dithered about like girls, a title you use as an insult. 

"I don't care if this is a Man's World, she's my Queen, from this day, until her last day!"

Lyanna stood, frozen, not expecting Lady Mormont's speech to reach that conclusion. Her stomach flipped in anxiety and her head spun slightly, instantly wanting to sit down or hide away. 

She didn't want to be a Queen. She'd never wanted to be a Queen, not even when she was married to Joffrey. All she wanted was what was right for the North, and for her family, not to rule the North. Except, now Lady Mormont had declared it, she could see the others in the room mulling her words over. Instantly they looked confused, almost instantly rejecting the idea, but slowly, she could see the shame of their absence during the battle wearing them down, and to those that were there, they understood, and began to nod in agreement.

Her vision narrowed to a tunnel, until all she could see was Lyanna Mormont, smirking at her proudly, until she sat down, looking rather satisfied by her outburst of support. The rest of the room seemed almost invisible to her as nerves and anxiety kicked in, not even realising when another stood up. 

"Lady Mormont speaks harshly, but truthfully," an older man spoke, and Lyanna's attention snapped back up. "My son died for Robb Stark, the Young Wolf. I didn't think we'd find another king in my lifetime. I didn't commit my men to your cause, I didn't want more Manderley's dying for nothing. But I was wrong. We didn't need to find another King, Lyanna Stark avenged the Red Wedding, she is the Red Wolf, the Queen in the North!" 

At the end of his speech, he pulled his sword out of his scabbard, slamming it against the stone flooring as he knelt down onto one knee. Lyanna felt a lump form in her throat, her insides fizzing as she realised people were agreeing with Lord Manderley and Lady Mormont, small cries of agreement growing louder and louder. 

"I did not fight beside you on the field, and I will regret that to my dying day," It was Lord Glover's turn now, and his support surprised her most of all, considering the state she'd left his nose in. "What I will regret more was the way I insulted you, and insulted your father. Brandon Stark would have been proud to see the cause you led, and he would have been proud to see you lead us. A man can only know when he was wrong, and ask for forgiveness?" 

"There's nothing to forgive," Lyanna said, making sure her voice was steady despite feeling utterly overwhelmed. If anything, it was his comments about her father that earned his redemption, but she could see the honest regret in his eyes. 

"There will be more wars to come, and House Glover will stand behind House Stark the way it has done for a thousand years!" he spoke out to the crowd, before turning his focus back to Lyanna. "And I will stand behind Lyanna Stark. The Queen in the North!" 

He followed Lord Manderley by bending the knee, drawing his sword and presenting it before her. Once knelt, he let out another cry of support, which was followed by everyone else, the benches scraping back, and the noise of swords being drawn and thrust into the air filling the whole hall.

"We may not be Northerners, but I believe I can speak well enough for my house to say that whatever happens, the Tyrell's will hold a true alliance with the Stark's," A familiar voice called out, Garlan yelling his support over all the other chants. "The Queen in the North, and Lady of the Reach!" 

The Tyrell's were on their feet now too, and the Wildlings and the Easterners. They were all so divided mere moments ago, Lyanna couldn't help but look down at Lady Mormont, offering her a warm smile as she realised that if it hadn't have been for that young girl, they would all still be arguing. A young girl had swayed them all, had belittled them to the extent of breaking their patriarchal tradition of a King, and now the room was united them all to one cause; following Lyanna.

This wasn't a joke. Not a cruel jest. Not even a laugh at her for being a woman. Everyone seemed to forget that last part, and for the first time ever, they were looking at her, rather than looking to a man. They were really, truly acknowledging her for being her, for leading them, for being a strong figurehead, for being a leader. The fact she was a woman seemed to matter very little, they merely cared that she was there, and she had brought honour back to the North.

"The Queen in the North! The Queen in the North!" they all called, the words echoing around the room and most likely the entire keep.

In the crowd, Lyanna saw Cassius holding up her own sword, looking at Lyanna with a solemn face, and she realised it was only so serious because the woman was crying slightly. She watched, as her free hand went to the back of her head and pulled out the tie her hair had been pulled into, and though her hair was still short, the dark black locks to her shoulders instantly feminised her. Finally, she didn't have to pretend anymore, didn't have to play the part of a boy to fit into a man's world. She could, at last, be herself.

Other faces stuck out too. Lyanna noted Garlan and Loras exchanging a few words about their brother finding out and how proud he'd be. Eryk was stood next to them, and when he met Lyanna's gaze, he winked at her, then bowed his head. After all, he owed her his life, and his freedom. He didn't need this new declaration to see her for who she was, Lyanna Stark had always been a Queen in Eryk's eyes.

Jon, beside her, stood, and grabbed her arm. He squeezed it supportively, whilst Sansa looked on at her wide eyed, support and pride beaming off her. The younger girl smiled, and Lyanna saw her lips forming the chanted words. No one else's approval mattered, as long as Sansa saw her fit, Lyanna didn't care about anyone else.

"Is this what you want?" Jon muttered quietly, so no one else could hear, obviously noting her hesitance.

"It doesn't matter what I want," she spoke gently, looking round the room, seeing everyone's swords still up in the air. "This is what the North wants, and the good of the realm matters more than my own happiness," 

"In that case," Jon offered her a small grin, noticing that behind all the nerves, she was actually thrilled and honoured. "the Queen in the North!" 

The Red Wolf. The Queen in the North.

Queen Lyanna Stark. 

***

Word count: 2303

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Hi guys!

Sorry this has been such a long time coming! This last month has been a whirlwind! I've been working all summer, not to mention I was abroad for two weeks and then it was my birthday/results day, followed by a trip to London (I finally saw Everybody's Talking About Jamie and The Book of Mormon!!!) and Sheffield Comic Con. It's been so hectic but it's not really going to slow down considering I got into Uni!!!

That's right, on my 18th birthday I picked up my A Level results and I got AABC! I got into my first choice uni and I'll be moving in two weeks! It's been such a wild, busy month but I knew I needed to round this story off first so here we are!

Lyanna's the Queen in the North. I mean, I'd be surprised if people told me they'd not predicted it but I still get chills thinking about Jon being made King so this was so fun to write. I had them call her The Red Wolf since Jon was The White Wolf and Robb was The Young Wolf. It just felt fitting and it tied into her Targaryen side so I hope you guys approve. I also really love the bit with Cassius, she's one of my fave OCs (obvs after Eryk and Alize, rip xoxo) so I hope you guys liked this chapter too.

Please vote and comment, I love getting your feedback!

~Olivia