The Feast of Winterfell

There was an intimacy in the way the Starks threw a celebration. The feast held within their impressive Great Hall was more than suitable, but nothing ever went to the point of extravagance or excess. There were many noble guests who came in attendance, but not so many as to make the whole thing seem gaudy. It was largely a collection of people who knew each other well enjoying a grand meal together under the warmth of the castle and its rulers. Jon spent a good deal of time talking with his cousin Robb and the Stark ward Theon Grey, hearing stories from his Uncle Ned about his Stark heritage and generally enjoying himself with the company.

The Stark sisters sat a few places away, but Jon did not fail to notice that both of them were giving him curious looks. Sansa watched him with clear adoration that made her seem far younger than her years, and Jon wondered if she had truly been very far from her father’s lands. She was an innocent in many ways, and if Jon were to pursue her he would have to take pains to not ruin her disposition.

Arya’s attention lacked tack, but it was far less easy to determine what her intentions were. She seemed to Jon to be not unlike a stray hound that was not used to the presence of humans and did not know how to react. Her grey eyes watched every action he made, from the way he ate his food, the jokes he shared with Robb, the way he listened to her father. She was studying him intensely, yet Jon hadn’t an idea to what end.

He had not failed to notice that the Tully sisters, Cat and Lysa, were in deep conversation. That normally would have been nothing new, they were two sisters had been separated for years after all, but more than once he caught Lysa looking his way before speaking softly and urgently to her elder sister. Years of living at court had given him some awareness of when he was being spoken about and he decided to keep himself at least partially on guard for the rest of his stay.

Despite the intrigue and gossip that surrounded him, Jon had been able to sneak a few glances of his own and greatly enjoyed the way Roslin Frey moved about the hall as she occasionally did errands for her mistress. He had not really had the motivation to try and call on her during their travels, but now that they were given the warmth, comfort and privacy of Winterfell he had begun to consider the idea anew.

The night went on and eventually the little children were sent off to bed with their older siblings following not too much after. Jon drank more than his fill and felt his own sense of warm weariness and retired to his chambers. He stripped to his small clothes and ventured to bed, falling into a lull quickly thereafter. His dreams were vague and thoughtless, but eventually they were snatched away as the sound of his chamber door opening managed to stir his instincts and awaken him with a start. He had a dirk in his hands within minutes, but lowered his hand when he saw who had entered his bed chamber.