"Are they even coming?" Lord Glover grumbled, nursing a cup of wine.

His fellow Lords waited for a moment.

"What are we even waiting for" he continued "Their man is right here ain't he?" He pointed to a figure stood to the side of the hall, the only one among them wearing a helmet.

Distinctively from Cainhurst, he wore a helmet that shined like polished silver. If that had not been enough to mark him as belonging to that peculiar House, his fanciful clothing would have. A long, black velvet coat embroidered with silver and with wide cuffs, again embroidered with silver thread. Underneath he wore a doublet of deep crimson, the frills extending out from under the cuffs. Brown trousers, black leather boots and gloves matching the colour of his doublet completed the ensemble.

Compared to the 'northern fashion' sported by the assembled Northern nobility, rich fur cloaks and styled in a way best described as practical beauty, he more than stood out.

Though, for the Northern nobility themselves, such a thing was hardly a surprise.

"Apparently there's another one coming, a Herald for their Lady" Lord Karstark said, eating a buttered roll.

"Never the Lady herself" Lord Glover continued to grumble "Hundreds of Annalises and never heard of one ever leaving Cainhurst. How do that even work?" he shook his head "Damn Vilebloods…"

"I heard it's a title" Lady Dustin chimed in as she made her way to the pair "Like 'Magnar' in the old tongue. It would have to be, otherwise how would you tell one from another?"

"So they all have their own names then" Lord Karstark assumed "Aye, they must do. Would be mighty confusing otherwise. 'suppose all us 'outsiders' don't need to know" he said with some derision. "Figures"

Lady Dusting laughed, politely. "What need have we of their names when, as Lord Glover says, they do not even leave Cainhurst. The Lady speaks through her Knights and they we all know well enough"

Lord Glover huffed "True enough I suppose" he said, looking at the Cainhurst man. "The Bloody Crow, or is it Dawnslayer now? Whatever he is called..."

"Master of arms at Winterfell?" Lady Dustin supplied, the corner of her mouth turning up to meet her cheek.

Both Lords huffed, one more amused than the other.

A sudden noise ended the trio's conversation, in fact, all the gathered nobility turned to the Great Hall's entrance which had been struck wide open.

A tall man, a very, very tall man stood in the doorway.

"Ah!? Uhm, er...Lord-" the herald scrambled to perform his duty but was silenced by the tall man's booming voice.

"The Umber's have arrived!" Lord Jon 'Greatjon' Umber bellowed out with a hearty laugh.

Beside him, his son Jon 'Smalljon' (Though he was nearly as tall as his father) rolled his eyes.

The majority of the assembled nobility copied his example.

"Be welcome, Lord Umber" Lord Stark said with his usual dryness, voice carrying despite being sat on the other end of the Great Hall.

Those close to him could see the amusement in his expression.

"Well, stop gawking all of ya, let's get to arguing already!"

Many gatherings like the one they were in had numbed many of the Lords and Ladies to the Greatjon's "indoor" voice. Still, numb didn't necessarily mean pleased by.

"We have yet to have the full compliment, my Lord of Umber" Lord Stark informed the bear of a man, just as he was about to take a seat.

"Huh?" He appeared surprised, looking at his Lord "We traveled the longest out of everyone here, surely?"

The man then took a look around, eyes squinting at the gathered nobility whose expressions ranged from amusement to exasperated. Only when it seemed his eyes had found the Cainhurst Knight in the corner did he clue in what everyone already knew.

"AGAIN!?" he bellowed, throwing his arms out and nearly smacking Lord Manderly and Lord Tallheart.

Chuckles filled the room, Lord Stark's among them, though a few appeared to grumble their agreement with Lord Umber's sentiment.

The gaints' theatrics not quite having the intended effect, Lord Umber settled in and the hall once more went back to a din of conversation.

Like the Smalljon, many of the Lords also had their heirs and sons in attendance. Robb Stark himself was the centre of a gathering of young men and women, the would-be future leaders of the North. Beside the Northern heirs, he also had next to him the erstwhile heir of Pyke and the Iron Islands, Theon Greyjoy. Though the Islander appeared to be conversing genially with his peers, most could tell he had few close relations with any of them.

Another, smaller and less notable, gathering centred around the figure of Domeric Bolton. Handsome, charming and so, so unlike his father it had not been a surprise that he had gathered around him some of the heirs of the lesser houses as friends or supporters.

All around the hall various other groups were conversing together, some because of shared interests and others because of shared friendships, and often because of both. They generally sat ors tood together, a physical representation of the different interests and factions in the Northern Court.

All throughout it all Eddard Stark presided, with only the Maester Luwin next to him for direct company. If one did not count the Cainhurst Knight stood a distance over his shoulder that is.

Thus time passed, as well as patience. The Greatjon especially was keen on getting things going but Lord Stark remained unmoved. It was not until another hour had passed that the doors opened and the castle herald stepped through.

"Announcing, Dame Sophia of Cainhurst, here representing Lady Annalise, Lady of Cainhurst and Leader of the Cainhurst Vilebloods"

The man stepped to the side and from behind him stepped forth a woman who drew the gaze of every eye in the hall. Partly because she was beautiful, with long dark flowing hair, fine features and pale skin. Partly because she wore the eye catching clothing of Cainhurst, a rich red velvet dress over which went an equally rich black vestcoat embroidered with silver. An ensemble similar to her male counterpart.

Mostly however, it was because of the severed head she was carrying, and the blood that stained the hem of her dress and coat.

Sophia curtsied, the action causing the head to turn to face the assembled crowd. Everyone had a clear view of the thing's final expression.

A wide, gaping scream.

Lord Stark grimaced, an expression matching many a face in the hall. "Dame Sophia…explain?"

The lady Knight lifted the head to eye level, looking towards it as if examining it "'twas a criminal my Lord, one most vicious and vile. When passing through a village the smallfolk called to me for aid, for one of their own had been taken by the fiend. As you can see, I hunted it down"

"...and why bring it here?"

The woman smiled, an unnerving sight "The thing professed knowledge most interesting. It was" she emphasised the word "apparently Ramsay, the Bastard of Bolton"

The announcement was met with grumbling discussion among the Northern nobility. Some were less than impressed, as this was not exactly the situation to bring up such a thing. Others were looking towards Lord Bolton, judging, disapproving or unreadable in their expressions.

The Lord himself appeared unmoved, face as stony as ever.

Doneric, however, had leapt to his feet. "My brother!?" he called, wide eyed in shock. He turned to his father, seeking confirmation or any kind of acknowledgement. When the man remained silent, staring at the Knight, Domeric pressed "Father-"

"Sit down boy" Lord Bolton demanded, eyes locked onto the lady Knight's who, in turn, was smirking openly at him.

"Fath-"

"Sit down" the words were whispered, but uttered with the full weight of the title of the Lord of the Dreadfort, along with an icy glare from pale, milk-white eyes.

Domeric's jaw tightened, hands clenching to fists.

But he sat down quickly after.

"A heinous monster" Dame Sophia continued "Assuredly, in its madness it claimed lies and falsehoods. Only corrupted seed and corrupted blood could spawn such a thing" she said, eyes boring straight into those of the Lord of the Dreadfort.

There were some widening of eyes at her words.

"Assuredly" Lord Stark said with the dryness of Dorne's sands, grey eyes boring into those of the Dame. "Regardless, consider yourself reprimanded Dame Sophia. This is neither the time nor place to brag about your accomplishments. Be rid of that head and take your place to represent the Lady of Cainhurst"

Sophia curtsied once more "Of course, my Lord of Stark. Thy will be done"

The Dame passed the head to a waiting Page behind her and moved to sit in the Hall, situating herself in a table that had Lady Dustin, Lady Mormont, the Lord of Flint's Finger, Lord Hornwood and a few others besides. The nobility bid her greeting and welcomed her into their fold, Sophia taking a seat reserved for her at the center of the group.

Thus began the Gathering called by the Lord Eddard Stark on the year two hundred and ninety seven AC, the twelfth in his reign, where all the nobility of the North gathered to discuss affairs of House and Realm.