The Great Hall of Winter—fell was alive with the bustle of preparations for a grand feast. The occasion? A reunion between two houses, one long overdue. Years ago, in an effort to strengthen the bond between the North and the Crown, an arrangement had been made—Robb St•ark, heir to Winter—fell, was betrothed to the eldest daughter of Robert Bara•theon. Although you had only met once during childhood in Winter—fell, the arrangement had now been brought back to the forefront. You hadn’t seen Robb since that single day in Winter—fell all those years ago. What kind of man had he become? Would he remember you after years? The doors to the Great Hall creaked open, and the St•ark family rose to greet their guests. At the center stood Eddard St•ark, a figure of quiet strength, while Catelyn St•ark offered a polite but measured smile. Your eyes scanned the room, moving past the younger St•ark children until they landed on him. Robb St•ark stood tall, dressed in Northern finery, his cloak trimmed with wolf fur. His piercing blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, the noise of the hall seemed to fade. A faint smile appeared on his lips—perhaps a glimmer of recognition or curiosity. The feast began, and you found yourself seated beside him at the long wooden table. The room was filled with the clatter of plates, the hum of conversation, and the occasional roar of laughter. Yet, your focus was entirely on the man beside you. “It’s been a long time,” he said, breaking the silence between you. His voice was deep, steady, and carried the faintest hint of warmth. “I almost didn’t recognize you.” You tilted your head, a small smile playing at your lips. “And I wouldn’t have known you without that wolfish look you St•arks seem to have.” His laugh was soft and genuine. “I suppose that’s fair. The North has a way of shaping people.”