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The North was cold. It was the land of eternal cold and snow, which many people disliked, mostly the ones who visited from the south of Westeros. Despite the cold, the northern lands were beautiful. The white snow that coated the surface of the ground or pulled a blanket on the trees and mountains made the scenery a sight for sore eyes.
Winterfell was the castle that belonged to the Stark's. The family of the wolf resided there for years and years on end. The castle itself was dark and gloomy but there were plenty of roses and the red tree gave it some colour.
At this time, Eddard Stark was the main ruler of that land. Fortunately or unfortunately, he was also the Hand of the King, Robert Baratheon. The northerner man was married to Catelyn Stark of House Tully, and they had five children together: Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, and Rickon. Although Ned's illegitimate son, Jon Snow, resided with them aswell.
A man ran inside the main hall of Winterfell, causing a few heads to turn to him, one of them being Ned. He let out a few puffs of air and quickly composed himself, straightening up and taking a big breath. "My Lord, I come bearing a message."
Eddard waved his hand, and the two men standing by the huge wooden doors slowly closed them. The man stood there like a statue and waited for permission to speak.
"Well, what is it?" Ned asked him with a curious gaze.
"It came as a letter, my Lord." The man replied and lifted his shaking hands to show the paper that he was clutching. He looked around and turned back to the Stark with a fearful look in his eyes. "It has a phoenix engraved in it."
"A phoenix?" A man boomed after letting out a gasp.
"What?" Another questioned.
"That can't be...The Wren's, or what's left of them, are in Essos, far away from here." A woman whispered to herself.
Ned looked at his wife, who was watching him with an equally curious but scared look in her eyes. The Lord of Winterfell motioned the man holding the letter to come closer. He rushed to the table and set the message down on the wood as fast as he could and gulped, waiting for the next instructions.
Ned didn't understand what the vellorahn children wanted from him. More importantly, why him?
He shook his head and reached for the letter before giving Catelyn another look. Ned grabbed a small knife and cut the red, black, and gold paper open. There were two pieces of paper in it with neat handwriting and the smell of the salty sea surrounding them.
My Lord,
I am Fernar Wren, first of my name, the last remaining man of the House of Wren. I come to you with a proposal that would not only benefit me but also you.
I wish to betroth my sister, Asenya, to your son, Jon Snow.
It has come to my attention that you have been looking for a suitable wife for him, but since he is a bastard nobody agreed to it. My sister is also of age, the same age as Jon Snow, which makes me think that they would get along well. With this betrothal, you would get our support. Even though we don't have an army of thousands of men, we do have a smaller group of spectacular warriors. Not to mention that both of us were trained in our younger years as the tradition of our house to protect our friends.
