SOLIVAGANT ─ HP & GoT [ON HOLD]

☽ Chapter XIV ☾

The answers to her letter took a surprisingly short couple of days to arrive. Cawing loudly as their black wings struggled against the cold north wind. Taking in mind the notion of the journey each and every lord and lady had to take to come into Winterfell at such a time and weather, the exact day of the meeting was not explicitly made at first. Lord Stark had warned Thea that the Northern folks while loyal and respectful were quick to rage and resent. And, most importantly, were always wary of outsiders.

As such, the following letters needed a very careful hand in their crafting. Amalthea took care not to demand, or order them to come but hinted that a meeting at Winterfell would be the best decision for all of them. She briefly mourned her failed Slytherin experience. Maybe had she let the Sorting hat put her there, she would have been able to manipulate those stubborn lords into thinking it was their idea to have this meeting happening here.

Lord Stark remained the main writer of those letters. But Thea still insisted on including her own words, for the sake of transparency.

"I wish through those letters to put in words my desire and dear wish to meet each and all of you properly, my lord. The North, in its beauty, is a wide and wild place. As much as I wish to be able to admire your keep and lands with my own eyes, I have to think of my security and safety first. The roads aren't safe for a single woman of noble birth. The summer snows will not be long before falling again and the road can only be made more dangerous by it and delay my journey. The time it would take to properly visit and learn to know each of us, my lord is a time I do not have. Besides, without a proper introduction to my people, I do not have the men to accompany me and protect me through this journey. And I can not in good conscience ask Lord Stark to support me on this demarche. His hospitality is already far too much kindness. I sign this letter in hope of your understanding of my humble request.

Respectfully looking forward to meeting you all,

Lady Amalthea Peverell, Lady of Moat Cailin."

Appearing weak or fragile was not something Thea appreciated. But in such a time and period, she finds it very necessary not to offend anyone. A man's wounded pride, fragile as it was, would have been the worst thing to happen here.

Lord Stark added a few more things, about the snows and storm coming and endangering their potential journey even more dangerous. He also asked for their presence as soon as possible. A bit of praise, a dash of embellishment, a reminder of the known loyalty of the North and every Lord would choose to come. Lord Eddard also mentioned that though the possibility of one or two lords being offended was very likely, the curiosity over meeting her would win them over and convince them to come in the end. Which was probably for the better, though it also meant she'll have to deal with them once they arrive.

The next thing to do after that was to wait. Which was not good news. If there was one thing anyone could say without a doubt, once they have met Amalthea Dorea Potter, was her lack of patience. Her friends back at home knew it quite well, as it was an often source of joke between them. Although they didn't know it as well here in Winterfell, they were starting to find out how impatient their guest could be.

Days were spent talking with Kadeem, spell training in the forest, away from peering eyes.

Days were spent brooding and talking with Kadeem, amidst spell training in the forest, the times and events that would follow. Once on one of these days, Prongs - her Patronus stag - walked elegantly through the trees and the big weirwood. He illuminated the leaves and forest with his glow, replaced the greens and browns with a beautiful pure silver. The body was beautiful, the stalks majestic as roots, the aura was of power. The longing was immense, the happiness that the Patronus and her memory brought was disconcerting and distracting. So much so that she had barely heard the cries of her name made by Brandon's childlike voice, nor how he pushed himself away from leaves and bushes. She stopped the spell, hid her wand, saw the stag disappear and after a few seconds Bran appeared, demanding that she stop hiding.