Winterfell Feast

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[Winterfell - Banquet Hall]

Everyone had gotten settled in and the welcoming feast was in full swing.

It was well into its fourth hour.

A bard played the harp at one end of the hall, but no one could hear him above the roar of the fire, the clangor of pewter plates and cups, and the din of a hundred conversations.

The long wooden tables are covered with steaming platters of roasted meats and baked breads.

Banners hung from the stone walls: the direwolf of Stark; Baratheon's crowned stag; the lion of Lannister.

Ned and Catelyn hosted King Robert, who was already drunk, Queen Cersei, Ser Jaime and Tyrion Lannister (the queen's brothers) and a few other luminaries at a table on a raised platform.

The Stark and Baratheon trueborn children sit at a table directly below the guests of honor.

On the main floor, the Soldiers, Squires and other Commoners sit on backless benches.

King Robert had managed to slink away after sharing a few goblets of wine with his good friend.

Catelyn noticed Queen Cersei staring at her drunk husband with plain disgust. A good hostess, Catelyn tried to distract Cersei.

"Your children are quite beautiful, my Queen. They have the gift of the Lannister eyes."

Cersei, a little startled to be addressed, stares at Catelyn with her vaguely reptilian green eyes. "I heard a rumor we might share grandchildren someday.

"I heard the same rumor..."

"Of course, these decisions ultimately fall to our husbands. As all important decisions must."

Jaime, who was sitting on the other side of Cersei, leaned forward, his forearms on the table, flashing his white teeth at Catelyn. Many women have waited their whole lives for that smile, but it only served to make her nervous. "You'd enjoy the capital, my lady. The north must be hard for someone who wasn't born here.

"I'm sure it seems very grim, after King's Landing. I remember how scared I was when Ned brought me up here the first time."

"You were only a girl. I'm sure you were scared of many things." Cersei remarked.

"But harsh as it is, I've come to love it. The north gets in your blood."

Cersei seemed skeptical, looking around the rough-hewn Great Hall, which would fit in the kitchen of her own palace.

"Your daughter will take to the city. Such a beauty can't stay hidden up here forevr. It's time we introduce her to the court."

"Mm... of course, I have two daughters."

If Cersei knew this at one point, she had forgotten. She saw Catelyn's distressed look and follows her gaze to the children's table, where Sansa looks as radiant as ever,
chatting with young Princess Myrcella.

Arya, on the other hand, has already ruined her evening dress. She used her spoon as a catapult to fling a wad of pigeon pie at Bran, across the table. It hit him square in the forehead.

"The girl has talent." Jaime quipped.

Catelyn, embarrassed, begins to stand so she could take matters in hand. But Ned, passing behind her, grips her shoulders, leaned down and kissed the side of her neck.

"I'll take care of it." He told her.

Cersei smiled at Catelyn. To her credit, she had an excellent fake smile. The two women resume their conversation.

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