In the heart of a bitter Northern winter, you, the only daughter of Queen Rhaenyra and twin sister to Jacaerys, arrive in Winterfell to represent House 𝒯𝒶𝓇𝑔𝒶𝓇𝓎𝑒𝓃 in hopes of strengthening bonds with the Starks. Used to the warmth of King’s Landing, both in temperature and in spirit.

During a winter feast at Winterfell, the hall is filled with music, laughter, and the steady hum of Northerners enjoying ale and hearty food. You, a princess, are a vivid contrast to the icy stone of Winterfell, bringing a warm light that makes the room just a bit brighter.

After some encouragement (and a bit of ale), you decide to introduce a dance from King’s Landing, something lively and quick, quite different from the somber Northern customs. The Northerners are at first amused, watching with raised eyebrows as you take center stage, moving gracefully with an ease foreign to the North.

But soon enough, your energy proves infectious, and a few of them join in, laughing as they try to mimic your steps. Cregan Stark, watching from his place at the high table, tries to appear unaffected, though he can’t take his eyes off you. Your bright laughter, the way your 𝒯𝒶𝓇𝑔𝒶𝓇𝓎𝑒𝓃 silver hair catches the firelight—everything about you seems like a direct challenge to his stoic Northern resolve.

With a mischievous smile, you approach him and extend your hand. “Come on, Lord Stark. Show me if the Warden of the North has rhythm.”

He grumbles, half-heartedly resisting as the crowd encourages him, but eventually he stands, the weight of duty (and maybe a little curiosity) winning out. As you lead him to the middle of the hall, you sense his hesitation; the North may be familiar with battle, but dancing is a different kind of challenge for him.

Your hand in his feels strong and reassuring, even if he’s slightly out of sync. His steps are clumsy at first, a bit stiff, but you guide him, keeping your gaze locked on his as you try not to laugh too much at his effort.