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.

Mornings were spent with Sansa and Arya in different classes, her mind so far away that her fingers had blisters of blood where she absently prickled herself, and she no longer listened to their various arguments. Nor did she speak when they tried to make her a judge.

Afternoons spent playing in the yard at Winterfell with young Bran and baby Rickon, as well as Hedwig who was simply dying of love for them both. Thea watched them play, laugh, and have fun but she couldn't sit still for long. Her mind wandered, imagining what the lords would be like, what she would say to them when she saw them, what they would say to her... Mud suddenly hitting the skirt of her dress interrupted her one of those days, she woke up from her dream and was quick to retaliate with a ball of its own that flew through the air towards Hedwig - the evil thing that seemed to make a sound like a laugh - only for the bird to swerve and the ball hit baby Rickon in the face. Thea held her hands to her mouth, half frightened, half laughing, seeing the little shocked face of the child, and running away from the two boys and her phoenix as they chased her with mud in their hands and claws.

In the late afternoon, when they entered the castle and were spotted by the Starks, Lady Catelyn ended up looking at them with disgust. Mainly Amalthea. With her lips pursed, she demanded that they go take a bath and not leave the tub until their skin was red from rubbing. They hurried away, amid laughter from Robb, Jon, and Theon, and shouts of indignation from Arya at not being invited.

Speaking of Robb and Jon... There were moments, in those waiting days, that she was with them too. A meeting in the corridors, a conversation at the table at lunch and dinner, a combination of laughter and the youngsters' games. It was easy to see Jon. Robb was harder. Not his own fault, but by others as they already suspected. But even so, sometimes Amalthea would stop to watch the boys train in the courtyard under Ser Rodrik's watchful eye, and in moments of respite, the three of them conversed. The brothers were different. One dark as a raven's feather and one the color of fire. One serious, always in a bad mood at the world and a deep silence, and the other with a wild smile, laugh lines around blue eyes, and warm laughter. But they were both good company. Good boy-men.

It was during that month that the first Lords of the North began to appear.

Lord Cerwyn was the first, and he was unexpected. He arrived one rainy night while everyone was still asleep. Amalthea was suddenly awakened by a hurried Lyessa, warning her that Lord and Lady Stark were urgently awaiting her. When she got up, still dizzy and drunk from sleep, she saw that the sky outside was a mixture of dark blues and gray tones, with a hint of night still on the horizon. It wouldn't be long before dawn. She dressed quickly and was even quicker to make her way to Lord Eddard's solar where Lyessa told her they were waiting for her. She knocked, entered after permission, and was quickly observed by Lord Eddard grim and straight as usual, Lady Catelyn as cool and elegant as ever - though her long, fiery hair was pulled back into a braid that looked rather sloppy, perhaps in a hurry to get out of bed and attend to an unexpected guest - Robb looking at her sleepily but with a friendly smile and an unknown man who looked her up and down.

"My Lords, my Lady..." Amalthea greeted, straightening her posture and controlling the urge to rub her eyes to try to ward off sleep. She barely managed to stifle a yawn, discreetly.

"My Lady..." began the Lord of Winterfell to say, seeing that she would not proceed. "It is with great pleasure that I present to you Lord Medger Cerwyn."

He was a man in his early fifties. With a long, disheveled beard - it almost seemed to swallow his whole face, hiding his mouth in so many strands - turning white and grey, hair grayer still but with a few that appeared to have been light brown in his youth, and of bright blue eyes.

"It's a pleasure, Lady Peverell." Greeted the other man. The way he spoke surprised her. She was expecting a brusque, loud-voiced man, like one of the Vikings of old times. But Lord Cerwyn was soft-spoken.

"My Lord, I hope the trip went well and was to your liking." Amalthea expressed politely.

"Yes yes, it was an uneventful journey. I regret that I arrived at such an inappropriate time, although." He looked with an apologetic look at everyone in the room, getting small smiles and answers that showed that it wasn't really a problem. "Oh my dear Jonelle was looking forward to meeting you, she hasn't talked about anything else since we heard about you. That girl is a curious lass, maybe too much. Some say that's why... Well..." He fumbled for a moment. "But my wife didn't want to be separated from her, you know how women are and their maternal hearts. My son Cley took my place, he wanted to come too but he understands his duty as my heir. He's a noble, loyal man and strong. Like young Robb here, I'm sure. Cley is my pride, a good boy." And after an appraising look where he roamed her body looking for any kind of flaw, he continued hopefully. "And not married."

Amalthea was in the middle of trying to ward off another yawn when she heard those words, and her response was to swallow quickly, almost choking on her own saliva.

A hint of marriage was most certainly not something Amalthea ever thought would come when she was hurriedly awakened that night, she thought nervously. Quickly, her gaze fell on the faces of the other three who were looking at her expectantly. She was sure that if she needed to, both Lord Eddard and his son would come to her rescue. Lady Stark would be the one who wouldn't move a straw as she watched her try to get past the obstacle in front of her.

"My dear Lord Cerwyn, I thank you for your words." Thea started slowly, watching the older man's calm eyes and feeling everyone pay attention to her words. How would she refuse without offending him, though? "And I'm even more grateful for taking the trouble to come to Winterfell to meet me."

"Ah, nonsense." Lord Medger waved his bony hand as if pushing the girl's words away. "It was no problem, we all know about Lord Harlan, and seeing his heiress in front of me is a miracle. Oh, how much my children must be dreaming of our meeting."

And there's the mention of the kids again... He doesn't even know me. He doesn't even know who I am or if what he heard about me is true, Amalthea thought. She tried to remember what she had learned about House Cerwyn... Oh, she remembered now. It was the ax, wasn't it? The black ax on silver. Honed and Ready, Maester Luwin had said. A loyal house. And later, she heard the comments coming from Theon about his daughter, about how ugly she must be to be past marriageable age and still remain a single maiden. She felt like hexing him until his tongue was so swollen he couldn't speak anymore, just drool. Unfortunately, but fortunately for him, Thea didn't. However, of the remaining members of the Cerwyn family, there was no mention.

Hesitating, she said, "They sound wonderful, I'll be happy to meet them one day but-"

But a loud sound silenced her. It silenced everyone.

"By the Gods, my apologies," Robb said hastily. He had knocked over the ink bottle that had previously been on the table, but which was now smashed to the floor along with a raven quill and a few papers. "I accidentally leaned against the table and bumped my elbow."

"Frankly Robb..." Lady Catelyn said exasperated, her cheeks red, no doubt embarrassed by her son's actions in front of a guest.

"These are things that happen." Lord Cerwyn said, laughing. "My son can be bumbling too, there was a time that..." But Amalthea didn't hear what the old man said. Instead, she watched Robb bent down, picking up the pieces of glass, the papers, and the quill now stained with his long fingers smeared with black ink. When his gaze met, he smirked, the tips of his ears red. It was a smile she was used to seeing on Arya's face. Robb had never looked so much like his mischievous sister as he did at that moment.

Amalthea, however, returned the smile, feeling an enormous urge to burst out laughing. He came to her rescue, even without her asking.

Then Lord Cerwyn's belly rumbled. He apologized for that and, again, for waking them up in the middle of the night. There wasn't much else to do than go to the Great Hall to share the feast.

That subject was forgotten anyway, she thought as she watched a sleepy Robb Stark walk away to wash his hands, knowing the ink bottle hadn't fallen by pure accident.

The other northerners, fortunately, did not arrive so unexpectedly for the rest of the month. Some came in the morning, others in the afternoon. Some brought their children, others, like Lord Cerwyn, chose to come only accompanied by their guards and servants. Glover, Bolton, Ryswell... Some chose to introduce themselves immediately, others watched her cautiously from afar.

Lady Mormont, the Lady of Bear Island, arrived one afternoon with the giant Lord Umber and two of her eldest daughters. Greatjon had come alone without his heir, and there were few times Amalthea had seen a human man nearly as tall and broad as Hagrid.

"So, this is the Lady of whom I have heard so much." Lady Maege had said brusquely as her daughters, a few steps behind, got down off their mounts. She was undoubtedly older than Lady Stark, a fact her long gray hair attested to. She was short, however, and stout. With menacing eyes and a serious expression, she was, bluntly, an intimidating woman. She reminded Amalthea of Professor Minerva McGonagall. A woman no one would ever offend.

"Good things, I hope." Thea responded under the weight of her gaze.

An appraising hum from the back of the throat had been her only response.

"Ned!" thundered Lord Umber, Lord of the Last Hearth. His voice was a rumble as he greeted the quiet wolf after having assessed Amalthea as well. If his gaze lingered too long on her sword and on the short Kadeem beside her, no one commented. He hugged Lord Eddard, his six feet tall height, making him look like a tower next to the other man. He was just as Thea imagined Northerners were, as Vikings had once been: tall, muscular, bearded, and extremely strong. "I haven't seen you in so long. The North isn't that big to never see you!"

"Lady Mormont, if you will follow me. I will direct you to your quarters." Catelyn said, being followed by the visitor after a nod.

"So I see you have a sword. Are you good?" One of the Mormonts said, moving closer to her. Arya beside her stared in amazement. Amalthea could see why: despite her being as tall as a man, this girl was elegant. Muscular but thin, and with a long face like her mother's, coal-black hair, and pretty eyes. She wore dark leather pants, long knee-high boots, and a green doublet under a black cape. But it was the very sword she wore at her waist that caught Arya's attention - so much that the little girl's mouth couldn't open.

"I don't think Lady Peverell would walk with a sword at her side if she weren't, dear sister." This sister who had just spoken, with an amused smile on her crooked teeth, was much shorter than the other, but no less muscular. Her hair was also dark, her lips thick, her thighs big and her body full. She had one of those hot looks that tell us right away that that person is someone we can count on. She was dressed similarly to the other, but her doublet was gray with green accents.

"Shut your mouth, Alysane." The first replied.

"You shut up, Dacey."

Dacey rolled her eyes, bumping her sister's shoulder with hers. The sister returned the gesture, more forcefully, but the first one didn't move an inch. "Is it the Peverell sword?" She asked Amalthea.

"Yes, it is my Lady." Amalthea replied.

"Do you know how to use it or is it just for decoration?"

"I do." A little... More or less. I guess so, she thought, but she didn't say it. Her brow had risen in defiance, however, perfectly mimicking the taller woman's expression towards her.

Dacey Mormont hummed just like her mother had done a moment ago, smacked her lips thoughtfully, and said, "Guess we'll have to see that then." She opened a playful smile, and in long and elegant strides, she entered the castle.

"She's so dramatic. My dear older sister!" Alysane rolled her eyes. "Don't mind her, she's always like that. You..." She pointed to Arya who was looking with bright eyes in the direction where Dacey had left. "You're a cute little thing, aren't you?" She squeezed her cheeks lovingly until they were red as blood, leaving the girl without a reaction. "Oh, I'm sure we're all going to have a lot of fun together." And with a laugh, she left too.

The other two watched her go, astonished.

"So..." Thea began after a long silence, hearing Bran and Rickon's laughter not far away, accompanied by Greatjon's loud voice.

"So what?"

"Aren't you going after them?"

"What?" The youngest Stark girl exclaimed as if she was suddenly waking up from a dream. "Oh! Right! Wait! Tell me about Bear Island! It's true that—" And she broke into a run too, as Amalthea's laughter chased her.

--------------------

Maybe Alysane Mormont was a hidden seer. Maybe she knew more than she looked, maybe there was some magic in the much-talked-about Bear Island that allowed her to predict the future... Or maybe she was just an intuitive person. The truth is, however, that Alysane Mormont was right. In the few days that she and her sister were at Winterfell, they all had a great time. There wasn't a single day that the three women weren't seen together, often accompanied by Arya when she ran away from classes, and even a few times by Sansa. Amalthea thought it did the young red-haired girl good to see a woman—like Dacey, for example—who was simply not what people wanted women to be. Dacey was strong and knew how to protect herself, and she was nonetheless elegant in what she did. Especially dancing, as they were quick to notice. Perhaps the one who disliked these interactions was Sansa's Lady Mother...but the truth was Lady Catelyn could say nothing about it. Not while they stayed at Winterfell.

They did everything together. They talked for hours on end, about everything and nothing. Actually, the Mormont sisters were the only ones who heard her story first. Everyone else would have to wait until the day of the meeting. Whether or not they told their mother was no longer Amalthea's problem. All their meals were shared, they took horseback rides - sometimes Kreacher ended up joining even though he didn't really like riding, but even so, Thea invited him over and over again, feeling bad for not spending so much time with him in the last few days - they trained in the training yard under the appreciative gaze of Lady Mormont and sometimes the Stark boys and Ser Rodrik. There was a day when they set out on a hunt, the three of them alongside Lady Mormont, bows ready and Hedwig flying ahead of them in search of their prey. They ate seven rabbits that night.

Five days after the Mormont sisters arrived, another girl arrived to join their group. She came along with the entourage of fat Lord Wyman Manderly, and the girl was his granddaughter Wylla.

"Finally, I was starting to think that we would never arrive." Wylla commented to the three of them after introducing herself, brushing aside the strands of dyed green hair that had escaped her long braid and made her cheek itch. The dress she wore was as green as her hair, with a square neckline and white embroidery. "What has become of you? It's been months since you sent me your last letter!" And as Dacey and Alysane gave her their answers, Amalthea watched her and her grandfather.

Wylla was beautiful. There didn't seem to be a single ugly girl in that North. She had a slender little body, bright pale blue eyes adorned with long lashes and blond eyebrows. She always had a smile on her rosy and cupid-shaped lips.

Her grandfather was kind. His laugh was as loud as his granddaughter's, a warm smile seemed to be always present between his nearly four chins, and he had blonde hair and beard. He must have been in his late sixties, or older, and was...fat. There was no denying it. He was, in fact, so fat that he could no longer ride a horse. That made them - him and Wylla, to her despair - make their journey in a litter. But of all the lords and ladies who had arrived at Winterfell in the meantime, Lord Wyman had seemed to take the most pleasure in greeting her. "Lady Peverell! I can't believe what my eyes are seeing. Oh, what a beautiful miracle I see in front of me. It's an honor, a great honor! Oh, poor Lord Peverell! Oh, but he must be so proud of his beautiful heiress in front of me."

"Wynafryd didn't come, you know how she is." Wylla waved her hand with a playful smile and didn't broach the subject of this Wynafryd woman again. "So what are you doing around here?"

And that's how they became a quartet. Days later, they would become a quintet.

-----------

"You're getting sloppy." exclaimed Dacey, after dodging an attack so elegantly that Amalthea felt jealous. It was unfair! The Mormont girl didn't have a hair out of place while Thea was sweating all over the place, which was grossly disgusting. The cries of complaints and support she heard made her smile, however.

"Oh, be quiet, don't try to distract me."

"It's only a distraction if you let it be. And it's not a lie, you are in fact very sloppy. I thought you said you knew how to use that thing." Dacey countered, smiling broadly as she hovered around the witch like a lioness. Or rather, like a bear waiting to attack, looking for the slightest breach. "Who's been teaching you to fight anyway? They don't seem to be doing a very good job."

Ouch, Amalthea thought, trying not to be offended...even though she knew it might be true.

"Talk less and attack more sister, I'm bored" Alysane yelled, sitting not far away with Arya and Wylla beside her. They were all in the training yard, finally unoccupied by the men that day. Of course, they got a few disapproving looks when they replaced them but none of them cared. The Mormont sisters had already fought each other, and now it was Dacey and Amalthea's turn after Alysane had ended up defeated.

"You're just upset because you lost. Don't be a sore loser."

If there was one thing the sisters did well, it was to get involved in various verbal struggles. These weren't fights that were to be taken seriously, of course. They were harmless fights, ways to provoke each other without hurting anyone. Sister stuff. Amalthea had always wanted to fight someone like this, but it was with a full heart that she realized she's done it before: with Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys. They were her family.

Anyway, it was always fun to watch Dacey and Alysane scenes. Amalthea couldn't wait to meet the other sisters they spoke so fondly of Lyra, Jorelle, and little Lyanna, who must have been Arya's age or younger.

"To respond to your answer, I had an instructor at the beginning. When I came to Winterfell I started training on my own, but there are times when—" She froze, debating internally whether to say it or not.

"Elaborate."

"Well, sometimes Lord Stark's sons give me a few tips." She didn't mention which sons. Robb and Jon, of course.

"Well, if that's how they fight..." Dacey gave a look of mock disgust, her voice sounding amused. "Spread your legs more, like this. Exactly! Try to have more stability. Your weight must be centered and your legs secure or your enemy will make you fall."

Out of the corner of her eye, Amalthea was able to catch someone's gaze. She turned her head slightly trying to see who it was: but she only had a small glimpse of that strange boy who had been watching her so much lately, before her sword flew through the air and fell almost at the feet of Arya who excitedly caught it.

"You're distracted." Dacey pointed out, disappointed and frowning. "By the Gods! Why in the seven hells are you distracted?"

Amalthea felt her cheeks redden, but she pretended it was from being overheated. "I'm tired, looks like we've been at it for hours." Dacey rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement.

"Do you know when Alys will finally arrive?" Wylla asked, trying desperately to keep Arya close to get her hair braided, but the girl continued to back away, furious.

Out of the corner of her eye, seeing that the attention was no longer on her, Amalthea tried to capture him again...but there was no longer any sign of the tall, dark-haired boy. She still felt his pale gaze on her, though.

"It'll probably take a few more days. You know how she is, she loves drama. She'd live in a play if she could." Alysane commented, absently petting Hedwig's feathers. The phoenix, however, took flight and came to land on the right shoulder of its companion, who kissed its beak. The bird made a loud sound, begging for food and giving her a furious glare black-eyed when, pitifully, Thea said there wasn't any at the moment.

Most of the lords and ladies had already arrived, but there were still some that were missing. The Karstarks, as her new mates had informed her, were one of those.

"Yes..." Wylla agreed, laughing affectionately. "I can almost hear her say: a delay is just to make you miss my presence."

"What are you ladies out there saying about me?" A new voice, behind them, was heard startling them. Amalthea spun on her heel, her tall leather boots - like Dacey's - blowing mud at Alysane's feet and Alysane glared at the mess, getting giggles and a half-ashamed, half-amused smile from Thea.

"Ah, you finally arrived. We didn't hear any commotion." Alysane informed her, slamming her shoes together until the mud flew off again. It didn't work out very well, if her pout was any indication.

"I see I'm not important enough for you to notice me." The approaching person replied maliciously.

The girl was tall and thin, with pale skin and a long face, a pointed chin, and gray-blue eyes. Her small ears peeked out of her braided brown hair; a braid that passed over a slender shoulder and ended up just below her small breasts. She must have been of Jon or Robb's age and was dressed in a dark blue dress, the skirt cut open in the front where you could see she was wearing cream riding breeches. However, she had a red stain on the end of her left leg.

"Alys, you're bleeding!" Wylla exclaimed, worry in her voice as she rose and joined her friend.

The new girl - Alys -l looked down, brown brows furrowed as if she had only just remembered the wound. "Oh, this... Torrhen, that big fool, fell asleep with sausages cooking over the fire when he should have been on guard at the camp. We woke up with three foxes fighting for it. One surprised me. It had sharp teeth, that damn beast! But I returned the favor with my dagger and now I have a new collar for my cloak." The girl told, with a proud smile on her face. She was pretty, and her smile was even prettier.

Amalthea didn't know who this Torrhen person was, but she realized that Alys wasn't angry with him.

"What a strange bird." Alys's gaze was focused on the proud Hedwig on her shoulder. "What species is it?"

"It is a phoenix, it is a very rare bird but there is no animal more loyal than this one." Explained the young witch, seriously. She wasn't sure how to act. Should she be formal? Could she act as she did already in the presence of other girls?

"Interesting. Never heard of it."

I suppose not, Thea thought with a hidden amused smile.

"Well, I'm Lady Alys Karstark." Alys said, grabbing her dress and bending down in a playful, mocking greeting. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Amalthea Peverell. We have heard a great deal about you. Your sudden presence has caused a stir among the Northmen, to be real with you."

"That's what it looks like, isn't it?" Thea questioned with one black eyebrow raised. She didn't quite know what to make of this new character. Alys looked nice, and the others seemed to like her very much, but so far her smile toward Thea had been full of mischief and she couldn't tell if she meant it or not.

"Oh yes, my father is very curious about you. He came all the way talking about how he couldn't get a marriage between me and Lord Robb Stark: I'm already engaged to Heir Daryn Hornwood. A misfortune for my father, I have to say. We're cousins ​​with the Starks, you see, and there'd be no greater honor than to see his little girl married to the Heir of the North. Well, it didn't happen and the Hornwoods were the next choice. Oh, but he wouldn't keep quiet about you. A marriage between the Lady of Moat Cailin and your brother Torr was not a bad thought, he said. Would you like that, Lady Peverell? My brother is not very handsome, it is true. Don't look at me like that, I am his sister but I have eyes on my face to see his ugly snout. But he's not a bad man either. If not him, then who?"

Great, Amalthea thought with disgust and surprised at the tons of words that had come out of Alys' mouth in those few minutes she found herself in front of her, another marriage proposal. As if one wasn't enough.

"Oh, will the new Lady Peverell be able to say no to the mighty Lord Rickard Karstark, Lord of Karhold?" Alys continued, teasingly, as if she had never stopped. Her eyes were blue flames sparkling in the afternoon sun.

"Thea won't marry anyone she doesn't want to!" Arya exclaimed, coming to her rescue, dragging Soteira behind her.

"Is that so?" Asked the other, somberly. Her white teeth looked sharp as she practically spelled out the words, in a languid way, looking Amalthea up and down with raised eyebrows.

"That's enough, Alys." Dacey snorted in amusement, rolling her eyes and leaning in to kiss the younger one on the cheek. This one repeated the gesture. "Don't try to scare Lady Amalthea, there's no one here to see you acting like this."

It was like magic, but the only witch there was Amalthea. Alys' mischievous facade was instantly broken, and her smile was so wide and her laughter so amused that they all felt a smile emerge. All but Thea - who was confused - and Arya, her little red-cheeked defender.

"I'm sorry, my apologies. I just wanted to see how she would react. I'm joking. Well, not quite, as it's true that my father mentioned a possible alliance, so it wouldn't surprise me at all if a marriage proposal was made. You can refuse, of course. Well, I really hope you do. All my brothers are pigs: they fart like ones, burp so loud that the ground shakes, and their snoring!. Ah, no one can have a peaceful night in Karhold, nowadays. I wouldn't wish any woman that luck." They all laughed at that. Amalthea thought her brothers wouldn't be too pleased to hear those words about themselves. "It's really nice to meet you. I hope we can be friends. We northern ladies have to stay together!"

"I hope so. It's a pleasure to meet you too, my Lady." Amalthea responded with an even bigger smile as Hedwig flew off her shoulder to land on the other's head full of brown hair, which surprised her, but Alys didn't complain. So Hedwig likes her... Well, it means she's trustworthy.

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking, getting to know each other, with Amalthea and Arya listening to various stories from the other girls: they had been friends for several years, having known each other in one way or another, and they'd stayed close ever since. "It's like dear Alys said," pointed out Wylla Manderly, "the ladies of the north must stick together."

The rest of the northerners arrived in the next few days.

Hello y'all. Here I am! I hope you liked this chapter, it is shorter than usual but I tried to not make a boring chapter and go straight to the point. The idea of this chapter was to introduce a few characters that I know you all wanted to see, and make it a more women chapter 😁 hope that you like it.

I want to thank my wonderful friend  

                        for helping me with this chapter, and my amazing beta Rubyy.

I'll leave the link to her story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849615/chapters/47005126

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13346000/1/The-Wolf-Queen-BOOK-ONE-Summer-child

As always, if you want to be part of my discord server dedicated to this story, comment here, or send a private message.

See you next chapter<3

(If you have any problem with this chapter please let me know. It may contain errors.)