The Tyrells observed from a distance as the northern lords arrived at Winterfell in waves, their voices booming across the courtyard as they greeted Lord Eddard Stark and his family with unrestrained warmth. The lords of the North were nothing like the southern nobility the Tyrells were accustomed to. These men—many clad in simple furs, bearing the signs of a rugged life—spoke plainly and laughed heartily. They seemed to have no need for the subtle games of court intrigue that were so familiar to those of the Reach. Here, it seemed, the value of a person was measured not by wealth or title but by strength, loyalty, and the ability to survive the harsh realities of the North.

For the Tyrells, it was a strange and unexpected atmosphere. While they had prepared for delicate negotiations and careful diplomacy, they found none of the political tension that so often plagued courts in the south. There was no pecking order to the interactions. High lords and smallfolk alike were treated with the same level of respect by Lord Stark, and the lords from the furthest reaches of the North mingled freely with those from closer to Winterfell. If there were any rivalries or grudges among them, they were not on display.

To Olenna Tyrell's sharp eye, it was clear that these northern lords valued unity above all else. They were bound together not by ambition or fear, but by a shared identity and purpose. That made them both hard to influence and hard to fracture—a frustrating realization for the Tyrell matriarch. She had come with high hopes of weaving her charms and strategies into the fabric of Northern politics, but the blunt sincerity of these men made that difficult.

Moreover, the northern lords didn't seem particularly interested in getting to know the Tyrells, something that was surprising to Olenna and Margaery. In the south, such prestigious guests would have drawn great attention. Lords would vie for their favor, flatter them with gifts, or seek out alliances. But here in the North, the Tyrells were simply treated as guests—nothing more, nothing less. There were a few polite greetings exchanged, a respectful nod here and there, but nothing beyond the courtesy expected of hosts. It was as if the lords of the North saw no need to ingratiate themselves with these southern visitors.

Margaery Tyrell, accustomed to being the center of attention wherever she went, found this cold reception particularly disconcerting. While her beauty and charm could turn heads in the south and command admiration, here in Winterfell, it seemed to fall on indifferent eyes. The northern lords, rough and hardened by their land, appeared to be immune to her usual tricks. She noticed them glance her way, but there was no lingering admiration or interest—at least not in the way she was used to. They were respectful, certainly, but distant.

The only one who seemed to take any note of the Tyrells' arrival was Lady Sansa Stark. She had watched Margaery closely since their first meeting, and there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes as the Reach visitors mingled in the Great Hall. Sansa was still young, but her southern education and admiration for the courtly ways of the Reach made her fascinated by Margaery's grace and poise. While the other northern lords remained focused on their own business, Sansa alone seemed eager to know more about the woman from Highgarden.

Meanwhile, Olenna had her own concerns. She had come north with a goal—to secure favorable trade agreements for the Reach, especially with the abundance of northern grain and resources. But the Tyrells were beginning to understand that their usual methods of persuasion would not work here. Lord Eddard Stark was no fool, and neither were the lords that surrounded him. They were pragmatic, proud, and, above all, loyal to their Warden of the North. Any deal with the North would require more than charm or wealth—it would require respect.

As the Tyrells watched, more and more lords arrived at Winterfell, each greeted with the same hearty welcomes and shared drinks. Even the smallest of houses seemed to be treated with a sense of equality that the Tyrells found foreign. It was a world of camaraderie, of shared purpose, where alliances were not bought but earned through loyalty and trust.

Olenna could see the challenge ahead. Convincing the northern lords to buy grain from the Reach, even with the Harvest Festival approaching, would not be as simple as she had anticipated. And if what Robb Stark had said about Jon Frost was true, then their best chance of success might lie with him—the bastard who was no longer a bastard.

As she observed the northern lords, Olenna could not help but feel a sense of urgency. The festival was approaching quickly, and if the Tyrells were to secure the trade deals they came for, they would need to make their move soon. And that meant winning over Jon Frost, whom they had yet to meet.

Margery, aware of her grandmother's concerns, gave a confident smile. "Don't worry, grandmother," she whispered softly. "I'll win him over. Jon Frost won't be immune to my charm for long."

Olenna raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She knew Margaery's talents, but the North was a different world—a world where charm alone might not be enough.

Margaery Tyrell watched with a well-hidden expression of surprise as House Karstark made their entrance into Winterfell. She had heard much about Alys Karstark, the young woman betrothed to Robb Stark, and yet, upon seeing her, Margaery found herself taken aback. Alys Karstark, the future Lady of Winterfell, was, to put it kindly, rather plain in appearance. Her features were unremarkable, her clothing simple, and her demeanor far less refined than what Margaery was accustomed to seeing in southern courts.

It was difficult for Margaery not to compare Alys to the many beautiful young maidens of the Reach, all of whom were polished, graceful, and elegant. She could name at least ten girls from noble houses in the Reach who far surpassed Alys in beauty—girls who, by southern standards, would be considered far more desirable matches for a future lord as powerful as Robb Stark.

But what surprised Margaery even more than Alys' appearance was the way Robb interacted with her. He was attentive, kind, and, above all, loyal. There was a tenderness in his eyes as he spoke to Alys, a quiet devotion that seemed unshakable. Margaery had seen men act in love before, but this was different. It wasn't the infatuation of youth or the lust that came from beauty—it was a steady, unwavering loyalty.

For the first time, Margaery felt a twinge of something unfamiliar: jealousy. She, who had always been able to sway men with her beauty, her charm, and her wit, found herself envious of a woman who had none of those advantages. Alys Karstark, plain as she was, had something far more valuable: Robb Stark's unyielding commitment. Margaery realized that this was the kind of loyalty that was rare, especially among men of power and status.

Robb had rejected Margaery's subtle advances during their journey to Winterfell, and now she understood why. It wasn't because he didn't find her attractive or because he was unaware of her political standing. It was because his heart already belonged to Alys, and nothing—not beauty, not power—could sway him from that path. He had chosen Alys, not because she was the most beautiful or politically advantageous match, but because of the bond they shared.

This realization unsettled Margaery. She had always believed that she could win over any man if she wanted to, but Robb Stark had proven to be the exception. And that made him all the more intriguing—and frustrating.

As she watched Robb and Alys interact, Margaery's mind began to work. She knew that loyalty like Robb's was rare, and it was also dangerous. A man who was loyal to his betrothed, who could not be swayed by beauty or political advantage, was a man who could not be easily manipulated. And yet, in that loyalty, there was also strength—a strength that Margaery found herself drawn to, even as it frustrated her plans.

Lady Olenna, standing by her side, must have noticed the look on Margaery's face. "Interesting, isn't it?" Olenna said quietly, her sharp eyes following the interaction between Robb and Alys. "A man like that is hard to find, especially among lords."

Margaery nodded, though she kept her expression composed. "Yes, grandmother," she replied softly. "It seems that Robb Stark values loyalty above all else."

"Indeed," Olenna mused. "But loyalty can be both a strength and a weakness. You would do well to remember that, my dear."

Margaery's mind raced with possibilities. She had come to the North with the intention of securing alliances, of winning over powerful men like Robb Stark and Jon Frost. But now, she realized that the North was not the South, and the rules of the game were different here. If she wanted to succeed, she would have to adapt.

Still, as she watched Robb and Alys, Margaery couldn't help but admire the strength of their bond. In a world where power, beauty, and politics often dictated relationships, their connection was something far more genuine. And while it made her task more difficult, it also made Robb Stark a man worth respecting.

As the sun began to sink lower over Winterfell, more Northern lords continued to arrive, and the once-quiet courtyards filled with the sound of laughter and chatter. One of the most anticipated arrivals was that of House Mormont. Their banners, bearing the sigil of the black bear, fluttered in the wind as Lord Jorah Mormont and his family approached. The Mormonts, once known for their humble holdings on Bear Island, had grown in prominence and wealth, thanks in part to the close ties they had formed with both the Starks and Jon Frost.

Lady Lynesse Hightower, Jorah's wife and originally a lady of the Reach, greeted the fellow Reachmen with a grace that came naturally to her. Having spent years in the North, she had adapted to her new life, but there was still a spark of southern elegance in her demeanor that set her apart from the more stoic Northern women. She was especially warm to the Tyrells, her distant kin, and exchanged pleasantries with Lady Olenna and Margaery. Her face lit up as she introduced her son, Jon Mormont, named after none other than Lord Jon Frost himself.

The boy, no more than five years old, was full of energy and adventure, much like his namesake in his youth. His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he looked around the grand halls of Winterfell. Not long after their arrival, Jon Mormont tugged on the sleeve of his aunt, Lyanna Mormont, a fierce girl who already commanded respect despite her young age.

"Aunt Lyanna," Jon whispered excitedly, "let's go find Arya Stark! Father says she's always up to something fun!"

Lyanna, with her usual bluntness, gave a sharp nod. "All right. But if we get caught, you better keep up." With that, the two young Mormonts were off, slipping into the growing crowd in search of Arya, who was undoubtedly somewhere causing mischief.

Lynesse watched them go with a fond smile, her heart full. She had made a good life here in the North, despite her early struggles. Marrying Jorah had been unexpected, but over the years, they had forged a strong bond. Unlike many of the other Northern lords who lived modestly, the Mormonts were no longer dirt poor. The newfound prosperity of the North, thanks in large part to Jon Frost's leadership and influence, had spread to Bear Island. Jorah had wisely invested in trade, and Lynesse, with her connections to the Reach, had helped facilitate deals that brought more wealth and resources to their house.

House Mormont was stronger than it had ever been, both financially and politically. Their ties to the Starks were unbreakable, and their friendship with Jon Frost and their salt mines ensured that they were seen as a powerful and respected house in the North. Jorah's leadership, coupled with Lynesse's charm and business acumen, had turned what was once a humble island into a house that commanded attention.

As Jorah mingled with the other lords, Lynesse made sure to continue strengthening those connections, particularly with the Reachmen who still saw her as one of their own. She spoke warmly of her life in the North, making it clear that while it was different from the Reach, it had become her home. The other southern lords seemed impressed by how well she had adjusted, and more than a few were intrigued by the tales of Bear Island's growing wealth.

Lady Olenna Tyrell, ever observant, took note of Lynesse's success. "It seems you've made quite a life for yourself up here," Olenna remarked, her sharp eyes assessing every detail.

Lynesse smiled graciously. "It wasn't easy at first, my lady, but the North has been kind to us. And with the Starks and Jon Frost's guidance, we've flourished."

"Jon Frost again," Olenna mused. "That man seems to be at the center of everything in the North."

Lynesse nodded. "He is. And his influence only grows. The North would be a very different place without him."

Margaery, listening quietly to the exchange, glanced around the hall, still hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive Jon Frost. The stories she had heard about him—his power, his wealth, his influence—had intrigued her. But it seemed that he remained out of sight, even as the court of Winterfell filled with lords and ladies from across the realm.

The atmosphere in Winterfell was lively, but there was a sense of anticipation in the air. The Northern lords, with their loud voices and easy manner, mingled with the more reserved southern guests. Yet despite the differences in culture, there was no tension, no underlying political maneuvering. Here, in the heart of the North, all lords were treated with respect, and no one was made to feel lesser because of their status or wealth.

Still, the absence of Jon Frost lingered in the minds of many, especially the Reach lords, who were curious about the man who had done so much to transform the North. Margaery, in particular, found herself eager to meet him, though she knew better than to show it openly.

Author's Note:

Enjoying the story?

Consider joining my to get early access to more chapters and exclusive fanfictions! Even as a free member you will get one extra chapter and you'll receive early access to chapters before they're posted elsewhere and various other fanfictions.Your support helps me create more content for you to enjoy!

Join here: (dot)com(slash)Beuwulf