Tyrion

The imp watched his former wife carried off with a smile she'd never once displayed in his time married to her, Podrick seemed happy to even be close to her and that made Tyrion glad. A stable North meant a stable region, he'd never admit it to either queen but the South needed the North more than the other way around. The south had destroyed most of its forest lands years before and replaced them with fields, but the lands were frost bitten now… this winter was the harshest yet and only roots seemed viable. Which meant no bread… animals were still abundant but many lords didn't allow the small folk to hunt for more than birds. The North had a free hunt policy in the Winter years, anyone who lived under a Lord was free to hunt in his or her own district, a reward for a hard worked summer. Farmers in the North preserved and stored for years in preparation for the Winter, and when the snows fell every farm hand worth his salt turned to hunting and lumber. And Lumber was where the North had everyone beat. A small population combined with a conservationist spirit ensured the North would never be without wood, after loggers passed through a region small folk followed ripping up the old roots and replanting with seeds gathered in the summer. The trees of the north were hardy and at least half of all seeds sprouted anew and the small folk were happy as they now had the stump and root, valuable fuel. If the north decided to no longer trade their timber to the south, then the world would come to another standstill.

The south had been unprepared for this cold, they hadn't stockpiled enough wood…

"A raven has arrived for you My Lord." Samwell said quietly, handing Tyrion a tightly wound scroll and shaking him from his own thoughts. Tyrion read it with a wry smile before flinging it into a brazier.

"Your aunt has decided to visit Winterfell to congratulate your sister in person, she has travelled to the neck by Dragon her caravan and snow ploughs were waiting her there… she'll arrive in a week." Tyrion grinned at Jon, he missed his queen and how she could switch between playful and serious in the blink of an eye. Jon looked up through furrowed brows

"She's not going to try and make me go south again is she?"

"No, she knows there's no place in your heart for the south. She does wish you'd visit more though" Tyrion said seriously and he meant it, as much as his queen wished Jon would live with her in Kings Landing she knew it could not be. The boy was born for the snow, he melted in the south even on the coolest of days. His queen had oft wondered that perhaps while she could not be harmed by fire the fire itself lived within Jon. The cold never seemed to affect him, and he burned hot to the touch sometimes. The boy was ice and Fire combined, usually that left you with smoke and water but not with him. "and take a bride."

"I don't want a bride." Jon snapped, they'd been through this.

"Have you a touch of the Renly's?" The Imp asked, he had been assured otherwise by Sansa but one could never know.

"If I said yes would that mean I wouldn't have to marry?" Jon asked, suddenly bright eyed.

"No it would just mean we'd marry you off to Margaery Tyrell and find you both some boys on the side" The imp topped up the bastards cup with a chuckle as he watched the other hand flop to the bench.

"people can say you're not Arya's brother as much as they like, I don't believe it for a second." Tyrion allowed a grin to crack his broken face and noted with delight that Jon too was now grinning.

"She was wonderful, the way she ensured Sansa's dignity… they loved it." Tyrion had found himself rather fascinated by the Stark girls and their ability to conjure love and loyalty from almost everyone. His queen was invincible to fire, had three dragons, a massive army of drones and was known to use all three… the Royals in the North had none of this, they held their seats out of nothing but Love and no need for fear… ah that's what the North needed the South for, Sansa could sit pretty while the threat of her friend with Dragons loomed behind her. Tyrion smiled, perhaps it wasn't all so one sided.

"You look like you're having an inner monologue." Arya stark was standing in front of him, her little sword in one hand her other clutching a goblet.

"You look stunning." He responded honestly "though you always do, don't you… in one way or another."

"Well I certainly do like to stun." She said wistfully. The lords were pushing tables aside and making room to dance, a flute player struck up a northern reel. "I won't dance." She said resolutely.

"Why on earth not? You'll be the belle." Tyrion said a little sadly, Arya's ugly duckling transformation was his favourite kind of court intrigue. He liked to watch to see how the newly blossomed girls reacted to their novel power, some abused it, some got abused and some were clever.

"All I need is for one of those drunk lords to try and pull at my ribbons… what if my dress falls down!" Arya's face scrunched adorably.

"I'll cut the fuckers head off as a lesson." Jon said tamely but with clear intent in his eyes.

"Dance with lord Baratheon, You'll defend our Princess won't you?" Tyrion stirred the pot a little.

"I don't know how to dance my lord." Gendry responded through tight vocal chords.

"Of course you do, you wrap her in your arms and swing her about… The northerners don't do the prancing of the south they fling and spin. It's very energetic." Tyrion made it sound so simple, nodding towards the lords who were currently spinning the giggling serving wenches. "see"

"I'm…" The frowning princess did not get to finish her protest as a young Lordling from the neck, one of Edmure's wards had approached and tapped her audaciously on the shoulder. Tyrion watched with interest, the princess was still armed.

"My Grace might I request the first dance?" his voice had the nasally quality of a boy who'd spent too long in his sick bed as a child.

"You can request all you like Frey, you're not getting." She brushed his intruding hand aside and marched around the table.

"That table won't protect you My Grace." Tyrion called nodding towards the groups of likely lads who were currently eyeing her like a prized filly.

"My Grace might I…" Another lad, a guard… blushing profusely and apparently being egged on by some of his brothers was stammering in front of the infuriated Arya, she sighed dramatically as he spat out his invitation to dance.

"I cannot, I'm afraid I have promised my first dance to Lord Baratheon and he is still eating aren't you my lord?" her eye's fell on the knight who had been pushing the plate away, the man nodded without hesitation on hearing her words and selected an already picked turkey leg. The guard left the dais sullenly and Tyrion noticed the Wolf girls furiously stomping foot.

"My grace until you actually dance they will continue to ask." Tyrion added with a helpful tone.

"Right. Fine. Come Lord Gendry you are to spin me round so that I can drink my wine in peace." She tugged his arm and Tyrion noted with delight how the man mountain obeyed her every command instantly. In his few conversations with the Princess about her time with the smith she had revealed that perhaps she had been the leader of their little band of runaway boys.

Lord Gendry Baratheon did as Tyrion suggested, he wrapped his massive war hammer hands around the slight Arya Stark and spun her easily, her feet never touched the ground. He lifted from the waist and spun her back and forth. Tyrion was sure she was shouting 'put me down you idiot boy' but the crowd were cheering and the music intensified. The smith lord seemed egged on by this and lifted her higher the crowd roared in appreciation and only when she kicked his chest quite violently did he let her down. Tyrion was sure none of the lords saw the kick, it had been swift and precise.

"I'm rather exhausted after that I don't think I will dance again for quite some time." She shouted to the gathered men who were eager to spin her, they groaned "oh don't be silly there are wenches a plenty to spin!" she called and the men cheered.

"Remind me to give the wenches a bonus of some sort for this." She said as she approached lord Tyrion her Bastard Lord trailing behind her.

"They seem to be enjoying themselves." Jon nodded at the happily squealing maids being wrapped in the arms of old Lords with wives back home in frozen keeps.

"All we need is half of the staff pregnant or betrothed." The princess grumped, taking a seat next to Tyrion, Lord Gendry beside her. "I hate dancing."

"Don't you call your sword play water dancing." Tyrion asked, he would continue his own private battle to win the friendship of Princess Arya. He imagined they would make jolly good drinking partners.

"That's different, I get to stab people… and I don't get hoisted in the air like a prized kill" She slammed another empty goblet of wine onto the bench indicating a refill to a small serving boy, reaffirming Tyrion's supposition.

"I didn't want to stand on your toes." Gendry shot back, his voice all innocence but his grin wicked. It had been the first real personality the Lord had seen from this Bastard born high blood.

"I was so high you could see my toes 'Idiot boy'."

Tyrion stopped their tiff in its tracks with some less biting words. "Do you know what your father declared from this very hall Gendry?" he asked, digging his spoon back into the pot of court intrigue preparing to make waves. Sansa had only said that she meant for them to be allowed to see each other before plans were put into action… well they'd seen each other, now for action. Arya looked ashen and took a long draught of wine, schooling her expression, she knew what was coming. Gendry shook his head.

"He said 'my son shall marry your daughter Ned Stark', isn't that interesting?" the lord asked all innocence.

"He said that in the crypt." Arya corrected him.

"He said it many times that day, including at the feast." Tyrion countered

"Have you given any thought to marriage Lord Baratheon?" Tyrion plodded on as if his questions were mere polite inquiries, his tone decidedly light and high.

"No… I mean… Well no I didn't think I would have many prospects… but now" Tyrion noted how the Bastard lord's fingers flitted minutely, ever so slightly towards Arya.

"Now you are high born, and a Lord. You can have the pick of the litter my lord. The southern queen has a whole retinue of Tyrell girls as ladies in waiting, I'm sure she'd gladly send you a match." The 'imp' was most definitely at play.

"Yes I'm sure they'll enjoy watching you polish your helmet." Arya smiled angelically as she said it, she clearly was very much in control of all her faculties. Tyrion flicked a small smile, Jon had spit another goblet and Gendry was glaring at her with one eyebrow raised.

"I know what that means now" Gendry said with no humour in his voice.

"Oh…" Arya grinned "And what does it mean?" her face was a picture of naivety but there was something about her posture and tone which screamed 'deviousness'. Tyrion read in their held glance that this was something from their history, ah yes he'd stirred up something. "Is this from your adventures, Princess Arya made mention of your helmet many… many times" Two can play that game, Tyrion set his own features into wide eyed innocence and Jon looked between the two as though watching a joust.

"Yes, Sir Gendry was fond of getting his bull helmet out and giving it a good polishing on our journey, I believe it relaxed him." Touché, the girl delivered back to him with complete ease. Her lord was looking a little redder if not just a little bit amused.

"well we all must have our hobbies mustn't we?" Tyrion shot a quick grin to Gendry.

"She told everyone we met on the road that all I did was polish my helmet, and because I was young and foolish I'd nod along, thinking I was being praised for keeping my armour clean. I never understood why everyone sniggered…" The smith didn't look vexed, he had a silly far away grin on his face.

"It was a trying time my lord, I took my jollies where I could." Arya nudged the mountainous knight gently and he obliged her with a mock wince.

"It is so heart-warming to see two friends reunited." This was genuine for Tyrion, there was something in their bond that warmed the Imp's well shielded heart.

"Please don't get mushy my lord, I was coming to respect you." Arya shot as she side eyed the Imp.

"Excuse an old fool's sentimentality." He responded before turning his head to Jon and whispering "But I do enjoy a love story." Jon shook his head in solidarity no doubt with Arya, but he smiled when he caught sight of his sister and the smith laughing together.

"You leave them be." Jon whispered back in hushed tones.

"Think on this Mr mopey, the more I focus on them the less I focus on marrying you off… a definitive eventuality might I add." Tyrion uttered.