Hers Is The Fury

Feasting In Winterfell

[Winterfell] 

In the kitchens, the cooks were hard at work preparing the feast, using the freshest ingredients from the castle's gardens and the surrounding countryside. The aroma of roasting meats, baked bread, and stewing vegetables filled the air, making the entire castle seem to hum with anticipation. Even the servants, usually so reserved around their noble guests, couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as they bustled about their tasks.

Outside, the courtyard was bustling with activity as well. Soldiers in their finest armor polished their weapons, while servants cleaned and groomed the horses. Children ran about, laughing and playing tag, oblivious to the weighty matters that their parents and elders were preparing to discuss. 

The great hall itself was being transformed into a veritable wonderland of color and light. Banners and tapestries hung from every wall and rafter, each one bearing the sigil of a noble house that had pledged their allegiance to Robb and Morgana. Great chandeliers, adorned with glimmering crystals and lit by flickering candles, cast dancing shadows across the stone floor, lending an air of regal elegance to the room.

The tables were set with the finest china and silverware, and each place setting was adorned with a fresh sprig of holly to symbolize the coming winter. Servants scurried about, arranging the centerpieces and making sure that everything was in its proper place. The musicians, dressed in their finest clothes, practiced their instruments in a nearby chamber, readying themselves for the grand feast that was to come.

As the guests began to arrive, they were greeted warmly by Robb and Morgana at the entrance to the great hall. They were led through a receiving line where each noble house was represented, and their allegiance to the king and queen was formally acknowledged. The air was thick with anticipation as the guests took their seats at the tables, chatting animatedly amongst themselves about the events that had led up to this moment.

Jon Snow, now revealed to be Jaeharys III, sat at the head table beside Robb and Morgana, having return only an hour ago. He was feeling a mix of pride and trepidation. He knew that the revelation of his true identity would change everything, not just for himself but for those around him. His heart raced as he glanced across the hall, catching sight of Daenerys Targaryen, his aunt. She looked every inch the queen she was, her silver-blonde hair flowing freely down her back, her icy blue eyes taking in everything that was happening.

The feast began with the serving of a rich and hearty soup, its aroma filling the hall and setting the stage for the sumptuous meal to follow. As the guests savored their first course, the musicians struck up a lively tune, and many took to their feet, dancing and laughing. The atmosphere was one of warmth and camaraderie, despite the weighty matters that hung over the gathering.

Robb and Morgana made a point of mingling amongst their guests, ensuring that everyone felt welcome and at ease. Jon Snow, still adjusting to his new identity and role in this grand scheme, found himself watching his aunt, Daenerys, with equal parts fascination and trepidation. She was regal and commanding, yet there was an air of vulnerability about her as well. He wondered how she felt about being here, surrounded by people who could so easily become her enemies.

The main course was served, a roast boar so large it took two servants to carry it to the head table. The meat was succulent and juicy, flavored with a blend of herbs and spices that had been grown in the castle's gardens. As the guests tucked into their food, conversation flowed freely, with topics ranging from military strategy to the latest gossip from King's Landing.

Jon Snow found himself seated between his cousin Sansa and his aunt Daenerys. He could feel the weight of their expectations, as well as the curiosity of those around them. He tried to strike a balance between maintaining his new identity as Jaeharys III and being true to himself.

Morgana turned to her cousin, Daenerys. "You know, I had intended to wait until after the battle with the dead to begin my greenhouse plans, but it occurred to me that we'd be housing so many allies, and they'd all need to be fed. And then I thought, why wait? The sooner they see the benefits and identify areas of improvement, the better. We can start planning for more greenhouses to be built throughout the North right away. It's an investment not just in our own food security, but in the strength of our alliances as well."

She gestured around the great hall, where nobles and their retinues were gathered for the feast celebrating the joining of the two houses. "Robb and I have been working on this for weeks. We've identified suitable locations, consulted with horticultural experts, and begun preparing the soil. We've even started training a team of greenkeepers and gardeners. Now that the initial planning is complete, we're ready to move forward with construction."

Daenerys listened intently, her expression thoughtful. "That's quite an undertaking," she said. "And one that could prove invaluable in the long run."

"Yes, it would not only address the issue of food security, but provide much needed work for Northerners, as well as the possibility of trading."

Daenerys nodded thoughtfully. "That's true. And with the addition of greenhouses, you could expand your offerings beyond the usual staples. Perhaps, experimenting with new varieties of fruits and vegetables, or even medicinal herbs."

Robb glanced at his wife, her eyes shining with pride and determination. "Morgana has been tireless in her efforts to make this happen. She's not only a skilled strategist, but also an inspired leader and visionary. Her vision for the North goes beyond mere survival. She wants to create a better future for all who live here."

"That's very kind of you to say, Robb," Morgana said, blushing. "But it's not just me. It's a team effort, and I'm grateful for the support and input from everyone involved."

The conversation continued, with several of the nobles expressing interest in the greenhouse plans and offering their own perspectives on how they could be implemented most effectively. ideas and opinions, and using them to shape her own strategies for the future.

Of course, there were other matters to discuss as well.

The energy in the room shifted instantly as the proposal of Jon and Daenerys' marriage pact was brought up.

Jon Snow sat at the head table, flanked by his aunt and cousin. His mind raced with the implications of this union, not just for himself, but for the entire realm. As Tyrion, Daenerys' Hand, spoke about the condition of their agreement, he felt a mixture of determination and trepidation.

"Jon Snow, you are a man of honor and courage," Tyrion began. "You have proven yourself time and again on the battlefield, and in your dealings with the wildlings."

The tension in the room was palpable as everyone leaned in, eager to hear the terms of the agreement. "The marriage pact between you and my queen would be a powerful symbol of unity, not only for the North and the South, but for all the kingdoms of Westeros," Tyrion continued. "However, it must be founded on more than mere symbolism. We will only agree to this union if you successfully bond with Rhaegal."

The room fell silent, the weight of Tyrion's words hanging heavy in the air.

Jon, seated at the head of the table, looked taken aback, but determined. He knew that this was a challenge he could not resist.

He knew that he had a decision to make: to risk his life and prove his Targaryen heritage, or to refuse and risk losing the chance at peace and unity for the realm.

"I accept," he said, his voice firm.

Just like that, the stage was set.

Jon Snow, now known as Jaeharys III Targaryen, would either succeed and secure the alliance, or fail and condemn his fellow citizens of Westeros to an almost certain death.