Chapter 225: Feast at Winterfell
Winterfell hosted a feast for Prince Rhaegar and his retinue. Thousands of people, thousands of smiles, thousands of cheers. Lord Rickard had made excellent arrangements and summoned most of his bannermen. For the sparsely populated North, this was already a very ceremonial occasion. Northerners, like Dornishmen, preferred roaring steel warriors and disliked effeminate pretty boys. The legitimate heir to the Iron Throne, the renowned Triumphant Admiral, Protector of the Narrow Sea and the Stepstones, and Khal-Slayer had arrived, naturally receiving a grand welcome.
Although in the North, Rhaegar felt Winterfell was warmer and much more comfortable than other fortresses. Winterfell thrived because of its hot springs. Winterfell was a complex, massive castle spanning several acres, including two thick walls and a village situated at its gates. Winterfell itself was built around an ancient weirwood grove and a hot spring. Hot water was piped through the walls to warm the various rooms, making Winterfell more comfortable than other castles during the harsh northern winter.
"Winterfell is quite large! It can be considered a mighty city!" Rhaegar thought. Winterfell was protected by two massive granite walls with a moat in between. The outer wall was approximately 80 feet high, and the inner wall was approximately 100 feet high. There were many guard towers on the outer wall and over thirty watchtowers on the inner wall. In ancient times, the kingship of House Stark was full of challenges and instability. Northerners were even fiercer and more aggressive than people from other regions. There were Ironborn invasions, wildling raids, Night's Watch rebellions, and challenges from other lords.
"The internal strife and instability of House Stark have been completely quelled; the wolves are surging, and now they are strong." Lord Rickard was also very pleased to show his generosity and the prosperity of his children to the guests led by Prince Rhaegar, and to the entire North, demonstrating a stable outlook. In Lord Rickard's father's generation and his own, only one male heir survived. For any great lord, few heirs meant instability and vulnerability, for a lone wolf dies, but a pack of wolves survives. Rickard's own children had all survived, and if they continued to branch out, it would be a new wolf pack. Rickard's paternal aunt married the youngest son of Lord Robar Royce, and they had three daughters, all of whom married lords of the Vale, spreading the wolf blood throughout the Vale. The eldest daughter married into House Waynwood, the second daughter into House Corbray, and the youngest daughter apparently married into House Templeton.
"House Stark's cousin marriages. This is... Westerosi cousin marriage, very popular." Rhaegar watched Lord Rickard and Lady Lyarra Stark enter the great hall first, both dressed in the white and grey finery representing House Stark. Lady Lyarra was a tall, typical Stark beauty, with brown hair, grey eyes, and a long face, exuding a noble, strong yet soft temperament. Rickard loved his cousin very much and had no bastards or mistresses. Lady Lyarra was also a true Stark, the daughter of a younger son of House Stark, making her Rickard's first cousin, quite close in blood, but it did not violate the laws of gods or men. House Stark even had extreme cases of uncles marrying their nieces before, which occurred during the bloody period of wolves vying for power. The wolves tore at each other, fighting for control of the North.
Everyone in the hall laughed, followed by two young children. Benjen and Jaime entered; neither of them was old, and Benjen was still a small child. Rhaegar also came to Winterfell with his four attendants; Jaime, being the child of a great lord, could also enjoy privileges.
"They both look so good!" someone whispered below the dais. They saw Rhaegar and Lyanna, both with gentle smiles on their faces. Rhaegar wore a black robe, embroidered with large roaring dragons in silver, complementing each other and giving him an extraordinary demeanor. Prince Rhaegar smiled slightly, his smile bright and sharp as a blade. Many noble maidens in the North felt their hearts pound; this was different from the wild boys of the North. Rhaegar's temperament was multifaceted: he was a nobleman, a warrior, a politician, an assassin, and an artist of taste.
Lyanna's smile was slightly shy; she needed to appear ladylike. Lyanna wore a grey velvet, white-trimmed wool gown in House Stark colors, her brown hair adorned with a pearl-studded direwolf hairpin.
Then came Brandon and Barristan, Brandon the Wild Wolf and Ser Barristan the Bold, entering in their finest attire.
Rhaegar looked around and thought of Eddard Stark in the Eyrie of the Vale. "The Old Wolf sent the taciturn Second Wolf to the Vale, not just because of kinship, but to seek change for his southern ambitions. Going south would inevitably require good relations with the Riverlands and the Vale. Moreover, the Old Wolf didn't want his second son to inherit too much cunning and ambition. Lord Jon was famously honest and prudent. After all, the succession disputes in Winterfell were equally famous in earlier years. What if the second son went astray and started a new round of family conflict?"
Back when House Targaryen was deeply embroiled in the Blackfyre Rebellions, Winterfell was no less turbulent, undergoing multiple rounds of succession struggles. This was all due to Lord Cregan Stark's heir, Rickon, dying during the Dornish campaigns. His death brought about various troubles during the rule of Jonnel One-Eye and his brothers. After Jonnel's elder brother Rickon Stark died in Dorne, Jonnel bypassed Rickon's two daughters, Sansa and Serena, to become the heir to Winterfell. Jonnel also married Rickon's daughter, his own niece, Sansa. Legend has it that One-Eye was not born with one eye but was blinded in one by his brother Edric. However, these were scandals of House Stark, and now no one dared to ask.
"An acquaintance? The Leech Lord is also here." Among the noble lords, Rhaegar saw the heir to the Dreadfort, Roose Bolton, but he was still very young, probably only a teenager, and had not shown any prominence in the changing times. Westeros was not short of young men who achieved success early, especially during periods of great change. Roose only became influential decades later, relying on patience and cunning. Roose was of medium build, not strong, with an average appearance and no beard. What was noteworthy were his unusually pale, strange eyes, deeper than milk but lighter than stone—eyes that were indifferent and cold.
"Long live King Jaehaerys of House Targaryen!" "Long live House Targaryen of King's Landing!" "Long live House Stark of Winterfell!"
The dignitaries took their seats. After all the distinguished guests were seated, everyone raised their glasses to toast and exchange greetings, and then the banquet officially began.
The high table in Winterfell was reserved for the honored guests: Rhaegar, Jaime, Ser Barristan, and House Stark at one table. The other lords, including House Dustin, House Bolton, House Manderly, and others, were at another table.
The northern bards began to play music, mugs of summerwine were filled, and the rich aroma of roasted bread and meat permeated the great hall. Even in the icy, snowy lands, the nobility still ate well; armed lords needed nourishment to maintain their physique and combat strength.
The bards sang with great effort, "The Bear and the Maiden Fair," a very popular song at dances. This song was very popular among both commoners and nobles.
"A bear there was, a bear, a bear! All black and brown, and covered with hair. Oh, come they said, oh come to the fair!"
The dignitaries couldn't stop smiling. To be honest, the bard's tune might have been a bit lacking, but it was good enough for these northern barbarians. The North was not only relatively poor in resources, but also in cultural activities. If not for this, Sansa Stark would not have waited years for a bard to return; it was cold and desolate here, indeed not suitable for cultural activities.
Rhaegar noticed Roose, not far away, also secretly observing him. Could he be considering pledging allegiance? But Rhaegar didn't think much of it; Northerners didn't make decisions so easily, and few ventured south willingly.
"What is the situation across the Narrow Sea currently?" Rickard asked. Even though he was far in the North, he still had his own intelligence network. Now that the main person was here, it was certainly better to ask.
"The Rhoyne River Alliance has been formed, and two Khals have died! The situation in western Essos has now stabilized, from the Dothraki Sea, to Ghoyan Drohe, to Pentos. New opportunities and trade are emerging. I was only able to break away and visit Winterfell after the situation improved."
Rhaegar spoke as if it were an ordinary matter. The surrounding lords heard one explosive piece of news after another; this was too intense.
Rickard's heart was in turmoil, like a raging sea, with strategies of alliances and diplomacy. He had already learned of the glorious victory at the Battle of Bloodstone from his son, but he hadn't expected even greater victories to follow. Whether it was the formation of the Rhoyne River Alliance or the killing of the Dothraki Khals, or the rebuilding of overland trade routes, each event was deeply shocking and signified the strengthening of the Iron Throne's power. Yet Rhaegar had accomplished them with such ease, as if effortlessly, with the world in his grasp. Rickard felt a tremendous sense of absurdity and powerlessness; if an era's destiny had such a person, others were indeed helpless.
"Brandon, you can take the Prince's hawk, ride horses, and hunt!" Rickard said to Brandon, having calmed his emotions. If it was a young man, he would be easier to approach. Brandon was the Wild Wolf and heir meticulously cultivated by Lord Rickard, unlike the taciturn Eddard.
"Then I shall accept your hospitality!" Rhaegar returned the smile. He had spent a long time in war and indeed missed the joy of hawking and riding.
"My lords! Let us drain this cup!" Lord Rickard stood up. Glasses clinked together, filled with cheerful, crisp, and bright sounds.
Everyone was quite drunk when a boisterous northern lord came up and invited Rhaegar to sing. Rickard was about to reprimand him, but Rhaegar didn't mind. Rhaegar had his harp brought over and sang a song.
"The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind. How many roads must a man walk down Before you call him a man? How many seas must a white dove sail Before
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