Jacaerys had the blood of the dragon, he loved the warmth of Dragonstone in the summer and the sun, so when his mother asked him to go to Winterfell in the dead of winter to ask the warden of the north to aid them in the upcoming war he was less than thrilled, not because he wanted to meet this "warden" who was rumored to be beautiful, but because of the bone chilling cold and the snow.

Jacaerys was currently looking out of the window of his given room in Winterfell, watching some of the shop owner's children play in the snow, they seemed to be unaffected by the cold. It had been a week since he arrived, the warden was in fact beautiful and dare he say the most beautiful woman he has ever met. He seemed to be making leeway in the negotiations of the North backing his mother's claim to the iron throne. Wind was pushing up against the window and a ghost of a breeze was drifting through the room, so Jacaerys walked over to the already large fire and sat another log in the flames. Just then, a soft knock was heard on his door. He walked over and opened it; the Warden was standing there with a steaming pitcher of spiced wine and two glasses.