Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire by George RR Martin, I do however own the non-canon character(s) of this story. This is purely a work of my personal enjoyment so I ask you to not expect anything worthy of the great GRRM. I fully welcome criticism/suggestions/questions. The story will eventually be finished (I hate leaving things unfinished) but I have no real schedule. Please review as I'd love useful feedback/thoughts about the story.

Notes: I thought I'd do a quick/short chapter for Artos Stark back home on the Islands. He'll not get another for a LONG time. Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays. :)

Chapter 10: Happy Holidays

Brandon's Landing was alive with music and merriment, the streets packed with citizens celebrating the end of the year. Merchants set up stalls selling festive wares ranging from hot beverages to firewood. Brandon the Shipwrights statue in the center of town was decorated with candles, the docks frozen over with a thin layer of ice, the entire city cloaked in snow. Above the city stood Winterhold, the great seat of House Stark, standing defiant atop the cliff looking out over the city below.

Inside the main keep Artos Stark was hosting his brothers lords for the seasons celebrations, the grey stone walls were draped with banners and a singer was playing the high harp and reciting a ballad as Artos sat on the raised platform beside his wife to his left with Rodrik's wife to his right. The Stark children sat below the raised platform eating their fill and talking happily with their brothers, sisters, cousins and other relations. The great hall was only haft full, with many lords being absent since sailing with Rodrik.

His wife placed her hand on his to remind him of his speech, gods how Artos hated giving these things. "My lords and ladies, if I may have your attention." he rose with a cup of warm wine in hand. The room fell silent, his children stopping their antics to look up at their father. "Allow me to formally welcome you all to Winterhold. It is always a pleasure to host these gatherings. My brother could not be here as you all know, the lure of glory has called many of our loved ones away this winter, and I know you'll all join me in raising a cup to success and more importantly, to them safely returning home to us."

The room muttered in agreement as held up their cups. More than few wished they too were out fighting, something Artos could relate to.

"To the Winter Fleet!" Artos held his cup up. "May the gods watch over them, and return them victorious."

The guests cheered in unison, drinking deep from the cups. Artos sat back down and the feast continued as before. Soup, grapes, red funnel and crumbled cheese, hot crab pie, spiced squash, and more fish dishes than Artos cared to name; the Islands primarily lived on the fish trade with what little hunting there was to be had. There was hunting however and meats like venison were a delicacy reserved for the nobility in order to avoid over-hunting. Everyone else settled for rabbit, duck, cattle and other more readily available sources. "It's a good turnout." Artos's wife smiled, looking out over the hall.

"Aye," He agreed, shoving a piece of venison into his mouth. "more came than expected."

"Their own halls must be rather empty."

She spoke the truth, most lords had jumped at the chance to sail with Rodrik for the chance of glory and land. Years of peace had long begun to wear on the Islands and it showed well on their attitude. "Wives, children, old folk." Artos scanned the tables. "Very few fighting men left. They've all left with Rodrik and Ed, not that I blame the lucky bastards."

"My dear husband," His wife grinned. "are you implying you don't enjoy spending time with me?"

Artos rolled his eyes. "Very funny, you know what I mean."

"I do." She shook her head, she knew how angry her husband was when he was left behind by his brothers.

The peace in the hall lasted all of a few minutes before- "HEY!"

"It suits you."

"MOTHER!"

Rodrik's wife sighed. "Don't throw food at your sister..."

"It's an improvement." The young Stark smiled at his own greatness, until his sister tossed some food back at him. Suddenly it wasn't funny anymore.

"YOU!"

"Not so funny now is it?!" She stuck out her tongue.

"Enough!" Artos raised his voice, silencing his bickering nephew and niece. "What would your father say if he was here?"

"Sorry uncle."

"Sorry."

They both lowered their heads as the other children giggled among themselves. "You'll finish your food like civilized little pups, or you'll go to bed without another bite!" His threat lingered in the air for a moment, brother and sister staring at each other as if to say 'this isn't finished' before returning to eat the food in silence. Artos was in that moment beyond glad he only had the one pup of his own.

"Ambassador." Artos straitened himself on his seat as the dark skinned man stepped up to the raised platform. "I trust your enjoying the festivities."

"Your family never fails to enjoy themselves." He said, not unkindly. "His imperial highness sends his best, to you and your brother in his conquest to the west. He only wishes the empire could do more to aid in Prince Rodrik's venture, alas we often find ourselves, the empire is sadly preoccupied."

"Another conflict brewing?" He raised an eyebrow, the empire rarely saw peace for more than a few years. "I'm afraid we'll be in no position to assist."

"Naturally," the man did not seem shocked in the slightest. "we don't expect you to. It's nothing we cannot handle."

"Good to hear." Artos replied. "Is there anything else?"

"No." The man said with a blank expression.

"Well then give the emperor my best when you return home, until then do enjoy yourself."

"I intend to." He bowed, taking his leave as quickly as he came.

"Another war in the east." Rodrik's wife scowled, the women was more a warrior than a lady. She'd almost went with her husband to war but Rodrik would have none of it for whatever reason. Artos assumed it was out of a desire to know his wife was safe at home with his children.

"No concern of ours." Artos spoke, leaning forward on his seat.

"Trouble in the east is always our concern, Artos."

"Not when almost all of the fleet is off conquering," He countered with a rather stern look. "and not when the winds of winter are so close. Rodrik has already dragged his people into one war and the lords will want nothing but peace when they return home battered and tired from fighting. The east is not our concern, not right now at least."

The feast continued on without anything of note. Outside the walls of Winterhold the city began to die down as the folk returned home and abandoned the streets in an attempt to stay warm. The snows were coming, earlier and thicker by the day, soon winter would truly be upon them and on the Islands that meant only one thing. Death. Winter on the islands was nothing short of hell and there was a reason most lords had a bastard son, it never hurt to have a backup encase the worst happened.