Seven Dreams One Kingdom

50-Jon

The night enveloped Winterfell in a shroud of darkness, its ancient stones cloaked in shadows as torches flickered, casting dancing patterns on the courtyard below.

The wedding feast for Dickon Tarly and Margaery Tyrell lay ahead, a celebration tinged with both joy and an undercurrent of apprehension. Rumours of potential threats had reached Jon's ears, prompting a cautious approach to the evening's events.

The three guests—Lord Varys, Yara Greyjoy, and Ellaria Sand—had arrived the day before, accompanied by a cautious figure named Dillyn, a seasoned food taster with a discerning palate for poison. Their presence added an air of complexity to the festivities, and Jon's mind weighed the delicate balance between hospitality and vigilance.

Once the wedding was over, the great hall awaited, adorned with rustic elegance. Long wooden tables stretched across the expanse, laden with platters of savoury meats and aromatic dishes. The air hummed with the anticipation of celebration, yet for Jon and Sansa, the shadows that clung to the corners hinted at the underlying tension.

Jon descended to the hall, his steps echoing in the emptiness before the revelry began. The guests, seated with a certain distance between them, exchanged polite nods as Jon approached. Dillyn, the vigilant food taster, stood discreetly at the edge, his watchful eyes betraying the gravity of his role.

Lord and Lady Tarly sat at the head of the table, Jon and Sansa were to be seated to the side, to allow the bride and groom to take centre stage. However, first the overlooked ritual of bread and salt needed to be performed. Most guests had been trusted without such ritual, but the words Lord Varys had whispered the previous night, revealed a possible threat, therefore bread and salt had to be offered.

To ensure the three guests did not feel as though they were the ones being scrutinised, it had been decided all wedding guests should rake part in the guest rite.

"In the spirit of trust and the safety of all present," Jon began, his voice resonating through the hall, "I offer you bread and salt."

With ceremonial precision, he presented the tray to each the first person of each table.

"Bread and salt, a sacred bond that transcends words. May this offering bind us in peace and shield us from harm," Jon intoned, his words carrying the weight of tradition and the unspoken understanding that accompanied the gesture.

As the guests partook in the symbolic exchange, the atmosphere in the hall shifted. A pact, ancient and revered, settled upon Winterfell, a protective cloak woven with the threads of trust.

Once the silver-laden platters had been dutifully retrieved by the swift hands of servants, the initiation of the wedding feast loomed. Samwell Tarly, his voice echoing with a blend of nostalgia and mirth, regaled the assembly with anecdotes from Dickon's childhood, provoking a smattering of laughter that rippled through the hall like a subtle breeze.

Following Sam's recollections, Lady Olenna Tyrell, the venerable matriarch of House Tyrell, took centre stage to extol her granddaughter's virtues. With a keen wit and a hint of subtle mischief, Lady Olenna spun words of celebration. The hall erupted in shouts of cheers, goblets clashing together in a cacophony of jubilation for the newly united couple.

Before the culinary bounty graced the tables, the solemn ritual of gift-giving unfolded. Tokens of goodwill were proffered to the freshly minted Lord and Lady Tarly. Among the offerings were volumes of knowledge, a sword forged with care for Dickon, and a delicately crafted dagger for Margaery, a testament to her burgeoning martial pursuits under the tutelage of her new husband.

The trove expanded to include garments of opulence, intricate embroidery that spoke of craftsmanship, and sumptuous fabrics that caressed the senses. A winter rose bush, a symbol of enduring love and resilience, found its place among the treasures, a thoughtful offering from Jon and Sansa, the rulers of Winterfell.