Alright, a brief summary on the history before this story.

During the war of five kings, Daenerys lands in King's Landing with Aegon and they take over the realm. Robb, still alive, goes to treat with them under a flag of truth about the North's freedom. In an act of betrayal, Daenerys and Aegon capture Robb and kill his guard and Jeyne. They burn down Winterfell and threaten to do the same to the rest of the north unless he surrendered his crown. Robb does so, like his ancestor before him. He returns to the north under a vow that if he would raise arms against the Targaryen dynasty again, they will wipe out House Stark and destroy the north in dragon fire.

Alright, so that's that.

Disclaimer: I don't own GOT or song of ice and fire

Margaery first saw Winterfell in a summer snow.

The grey castle, still blackened from dragon fire was like something from a song or story. Thick white flakes fell, catching in her hair and swirling in the wind. The ground was already blanketed under the white snow, and she thought it wouldn't look quite right without the snow around it.

Aegon smiled at her, strained and tense as their relationship, if you could call it that. He may be her betrothed, but there was little love. She didn't miss the way he watched Daenerys, and the way the queen watched her Hand. It seemed they inherited the Targaryen tradition of wedding blood to blood. But Daenerys refused to take Aegon as her king for the realm. She would take a husband that the realm would find a strong ruler in.

Margaery pulled the thick black cloak tight around her shoulders. Black and red, for her future house if Daenerys had anything to say about it. She would rather not wed the boy, beautiful as he was. His heart was set on his aunt, and Margaery knew better than to try and create something with the silver prince

Loras smiled at her, his cloak as white as the snow around them. He wore the Kingsguard colours still, though now renamed the Queenguard on Daenerys' order. He stuck his tongue out her playfully. She smirked back and shook her head. Her brother had been depressed after Renly's mysterious death, and it was gratifying to see him finally out of the dark place he had been in.

They approached Winterfell on horse, Margaery beside her betrothed. Daenerys rode at the front, on a gift from her Dothraki husband, what she called the silver. Her immense golden crown sat on her head and she carried it like a queen.

Margaery came through the gate, the soaring grey towers high over her head. She saw men in grey and white and furs watching them with cold eyes. When the queen took the King in the North, the people had responded with fury, especially to the body of his queen found murdered. They had not done anything wrong, but there was no respect, no love, only a cold, frosty hatred running deep in the north that even the land responded to the fury.

She didn't understand when a man of only seven and ten stepped out, making his way as if to greet them. He was certainly handsome, in a rugged way, not like Aegon's fine features. His dark red brown hair was cut short and clean, but loose curls were already falling into his eyes. His eyes were like ice, cold and unyielding and she could almost imagine him with a crown in his hair, standing before a court with his frosty gaze. His face was smooth shaven, revealing his jawline. Margaery watched the man approached, but he didn't bow to the queen.

"Daenerys." He said curtly, greeting her like an unannounced friend or an enemy with a sword at his throat. "Aegon."

Daenerys looked down on the man from her lofty position on her horse.

"It is custom to bow to your queen Stark." She said as cold as she could, but her annoyance was piqued by his quiet stubbornness.

"And you are in my lands, surrounded by my men and without my hospitality you would be sleeping in the snow with the wolves. I would demand more respect Queen Daenerys." He said, his voice hard.

Margaery watched as Daenerys sniffed and said "Lord Stark, my thanks for welcoming us into your home."

Margaery kept her surprise off her face like a politician. Lord Stark was her age, and he had led an army to war and became a king. He certainly looked the part of a king, some traitorous part of her mind whispered to her.

The newly introduced Lord Stark nodded and helped her dismount, all icy politeness that had a bitter tinge to it. He was treating her better than many lords newly uncrowned by a girl younger than themselves. She knew her father wouldn't have let her into Highgarden until her dragons were circling overhead like Dornish vultures.

"Lord Stark, may you lead us inside? I am not one for standing in the cold." Daenerys said, and Lord Stark took her arm and led her inside. She noticed with a shiver that all the men were heavily armed, and their eyes watched Daenerys as if half tempted to shoot her with a crossbow.

She turned to Aegon and said "I don't trust those Stark men. They look half ready to shoot us till our blood stains the snow."
Aegon laughed as if she told some clever jape and said "With Drogon outside, they would not dare attempt anything. This is all they can do, be undyingly rude and bitter under their courtesies. Though Lord Stark might wish death upon us, if he even tries Winterfell will burn."

His violet eyes lit at Drogon's mention, a faint mad light at the image of a burning castle brought to his Targaryen mind. She shivered again and Aegon said "Roses are not made for winter. I think it folly that you wished to come north."

Margaery withheld a retort. She may be a rose, but her words were growing strong. She was not weak. She merely said "I would never get another chance to see the north, and these people intrigue me. I thought, why not seize the opportunity."

Aegon smiled at her and patted her hand.

"I must speak to Daenerys. You may find a servant to escort you to your rooms."

She smiled at Aegon and watched him walk towards his aunt, the frosty Lord Stark oddly missing from her side.

"My lady."

The deep male voice behind her made her start, turn around to find the Lord of Stark behind her, watching her with a touch of winter in his eyes. He blinked once and asked "Would you allow me to escort you to your rooms? Your betrothed seems to have vanished."

Margaery managed to nod, tilting her head back far to look the man in his icy blue eyes. He really was quite tall, and she saw a hint of a red scar on his neck.

"Of course my lord." She said, and he took her arm. He led her up the winding stairs, and she almost felt like she was awash with heat.

"How many fires must you keep lit to make the castle warm?" she asked lightly, the silence heavy and bothersome.

Lord Stark seemed surprised that she would speak to him in almost a friendly manner. "There are hot springs underneath Winterfell. They are piped through the walls and heat the castle."

Her free hand drifted to the stone wall to her right and it was slightly warm to the touch. She smiled and said "Your ancestors were very wise to think of this. Winter would be almost unbearably cold without the heat."

Lord Stark raised one eyebrow, as if thinking that this was some ploy to lower the wall he put around himself.

"You have never been this far north, have you my lady?" he asked. She smiled and said "Never farther then King's Landing until we started north. Winterfell is marvelous though." She felt herself relaxing around Lord Stark, even though only talking with him for a moment. It was welcome, having to keep her guard up around King's Landing and Aegon. Court and her betrothed were stressful, and she had to watch every word she said around both.

Lord Stark stopped suddenly and she realized they had reached her rooms.

He unlaced his arm from hers and said "I hope you enjoy your stay in Winterfell, my lady."

He turned and left, and his furs shifted around his neck, to reveal more of the puckered red wound twining around his neck. It was more wound then scar, recent with not enough time to heal itself and fade.

She stepped into her rooms and was relieved to see her handmaidens and her trunks already there.

"Lady Margaery, there you are. We have to prepare for the feast, we have much to do." Her head maid, an older woman named Jeyne said. She smelled her hair and shook her head.

"You stink of horse. I told you it would have been better if you had ridden in the wheelhouse. Now you must bath, come on." Jeyne tugged on her hand and pulled her towards the tub.

"Alerie, pick one of the warmer dresses for tonight. This northern air is far colder than I would have thought." She called back at one of her other handmaidens.

Alerie held up a fine river blue color made of warm wool and with fine gold embroidery.

"This one, it will suit you in the north." Alerie said. Margaery trusted her, since she was originally from the north herself.

Margaery nodded her head, and found her thoughts had drifting back to the Lord of Stark. Her mind brought back images it caught, his blue, blue eyes, his ruddy hair, the smell of pine and smoke and something musky that clung to him and made her feel strangely dizzy.

She stopped her thoughts and focused on the coming feast. Lord Stark was not what a betrothed woman should be thinking about, but she couldn't seem to stop the thoughts that flashed by.

And deep inside her, her heart skipped a beat a little as she smiled to herself.

She walked into the great hall on Aegon's arm, her blue skirts swirling around her ankles. She smiled at her betrothed, but it didn't escape her notice that his eyes drifted to Daenerys.

She looked like a vision, clad in pale violet silk and with bands of gold circling her arms. Her skin was creamy soft, her silver hair braided back away from her face and falling down her back like a river of silver.

Aegon abandoned her as soon as was appropriate and kissed his aunt's hand.

"You look like the Maiden in flesh." He said deeply, and Daenerys smiled at him, more tenderly than at any save her dragons. Margaery felt oddly alone until she heard his voice again.

"Lady Tyrell." Lord Stark nodded to her, and she couldn't help but notice the red scar was more on his back, trailing up to his neck.

"Lord Stark." She greeted, curtsying. Lord Stark nodded in greeting and said "You look lovely this evening."

She felt the heat rising to her cheeks. Aegon had said the same thing as he had brought her inside, but Lord Stark's comment made her feel warm deep in the pit of her stomach.

"Thank you my lord. You seems you have lost your furs?"

He looked smaller without the furs around his shoulders, more human almost. He had also shed the chain mail he had worn under his furs, as if he were lowering his guard.

He nodded and took his seat, next to Daenerys and two seats away from her. Between them was Aegon, who's full attention was on Daenerys, and she did not turn his attentions away. She looked down at her plate, some sort of wild animal in heavy spices, warm and dark and smelling amazing. Her stomach gave an appreciative sound and the food almost reached her mouth when there was the sound of a scraping chair beside her.

A young girl in a dress of grey and white, her hair fiery red sat down and saw her looking.

"I'm sorry my lady if I disturbed you." She looked like she would rather be standing anywhere but there. She had seen Sansa Stark around King's Landing before Daenerys and Aegon had come in with their fleet of ships, full of men to take the capital. She had been shy, reserved, speaking to no one unless spoken to first or asked a direct question. She had also been Joffrey Baratheon's first betrothed, before he casted her aside and he took Margaery as his betrothed.

"No, it is quite alright Lady Sansa. Please, Lord Aegon seems occupied at the moment, so let us talk. How are you, I haven't seen you since King's Landing."

And with good reason, Margaery thought to herself. Sansa looked terrified to be put on the spot, but Margaery swooped in and said "I would be rather happy if it was me, to be gone from there. I'm betrothed to Lord Aegon now, so I must remain in the capital with him. I rather wish I was home in Highgarden sometimes though."

Sansa said nothing, sipping at her wine and Margaery continued "I did rather enjoy seeing them mount Joffrey Baratheon's head on a spike. He made a good head spike."

There it was, what Margaery had been hoping for. A small smile, like a shy deer flitted across her face, and something akin to amusement flickered in her eyes like a candle flame.

Margaery said nothing for a moment, chewing the meat she didn't remember bringing to her mouth.

"I rather wish that I had come north earlier now. It is a beautiful country."

Sansa nodded and looked down at her plate and said quietly "It is. I used to dislike the north, when I was younger. I thought it was too cold and barren."

Margaery laughed and said "Well, it is cold, that is why they call it the north. Pray tell me, are you betrothed at the moment?"

Sansa shook her head, some strands of red hair falling loose from her northern braid. Margaery smiled and said "I think that if you were willing to come south, my brother Willas would adore you. He is going to be Lord of Highgarden, and he is very handsome."

Sansa blushed prettily, a light pink flush rising to her cheeks. Margaery sipped at her wine and she felt the hour flow past like a fast moving river. Sansa blossomed like a rose under gentle conversation and she saw a hint of the girl she had been before Joffrey had beat her down. Then, someone started up the music and Aegon was up. Margaery turned to her betrothed, but he was already leading Daenerys down from the dais to the floor and they spun around, two beautiful silver blurs across the floor as they twirled and whirled to the fast northern beat.

Sansa noticed her staring at Aegon and she said "Lord Targaryen seems very close with the queen."

Margaery nodded and remembered the night she had caught him in only a robe, sneaking towards the queen's chambers. He hadn't seen her, but she had seen him slip inside and close the door. Margaery had fled back to her room, her thoughts of finding a servant for water long forgotten.

"Closer than you would think Lady Sansa." Margaery said dryly.

Sansa stood and said "You have never danced to a northern song. It would be a shame for you to miss out on it." She went off to the right, and Margaery turned to see her talking with her brother, Lord Robb. They spoke in hushed tones, and Margaery couldn't hear what was being said.

Lord Stark approached her and said "My lady, may I ask you for a dance."

Margaery rose from her chair and said "Of course Lord Stark."

He led her to the floor, and one hand took her left, the other falling to her waist. His hands were much larger then hers, and rough with sword callouses. They stepped close, chests almost touching and they stepped back a half step. He spun her around in a mess of skirts and then his hand was on the small of her back.

"I have not seen Sansa like this in a long time." He said softly, Margaery almost not catching his words. "She is so quiet and withdrawn nowadays."

She half turned and saw the young Stark with Loras, where he had asked her to dance and her face was as red as her hair she was blushing.

"She is a young girl, she should be able to act like one." Margaery said. Lord Stark smiled softly, almost sadly and said "We have been trying to coax her to dance and to speak again, but she is so quiet. I think she just needed another young woman with her."

Margaery smiled and japed "It is nothing on my part, but rather Loras. He is said to have a way with young women or the realm."

His lips pulled back in another half-smile, smaller this time, but his eyes showed his amusement.

"You are a fine dancer my lady." He said quietly, spinning her once more. She watched him out of the corner of her eye and she saw Daenerys and Aegon watching her.

"Well, I've been to many feasts and such. You are also a fine dancer my lord, tell me, have you danced with many young women?"

He spun her once, his face contemplative. "Not many young women are seen here in the north." He said finally.

Margaery smiled and said "No northern girl has caught your eye yet? My, I would have thought the ladies would be swarming this castle for a chance at the young lord of Winterfell?"

She felt a burst of pride at the slight red growing from his neck and he said simply "None have come seeking the ladyship of Winterfell. I have been too busy with reconciling the north to worry about courting ladies."

Margaery nodded and said "Yes, the north must be in a tizzy about the vow of no raising arms."

Lord Stark frowned and said "They are denied the right to fight for their freedom and independence, and if they do fight they will be forced to watch their homes burn."

Margaery realized she had touched on a bad subject.

She bowed her head and said "I'm sorry my lord, if I offended you in some way."

The music ended and she dropped her hands, however reluctantly, but Lord Stark's hand stopped her. A finger gently lifted her head to look him in the eye and said "It is alright, I reacted defensively. Come, another dance for my blunder."

But Aegon was there, and he cut in.

"Sorry Lord Stark, but might I dance with my betrothed?" he asked, almost in challenge. Lord Stark frowned and said "Very well Aegon." His mask of cold courtesy had slipped back into place as soon as the silver prince had stepped close. He nodded to Margaery and said "my lady, I thank you for the dance my lady."

He turned away and went to where Loras was kissing Sansa's hand in farewell, and she was pink in the face. Lord Stark took her hand and led her to the floor, but she felt his eyes flick onto her throughout the dance with Aegon.

"You seemed close with Lord Stark Margaery." Aegon said, no emotion in his voice. Margaery had no clue what she had done wrong.

"You were dancing with Her Grace, and Lord Stark kindly offered me a dance. I accepted of course, I couldn't deny a lord in his own keep."

Aegon nodded and said "You seemed to be getting very close though, and you were smiling much."

She still didn't understand why he was so upset. He knew that she knew that he preferred Daenerys to any woman he could get as the Hand of the Queen. Yet he got defensive if she danced with one lord.

One handsome, kind, high lord that had treated her as more than a little girl, and like a lady and a woman.

"Lord Stark is a very fine dancer, and I enjoyed myself. It is a feast my lord, it's to be enjoyed." She said. Aegon spun her around, but there wasn't a thrill like before.

This song was a short one, and the dancing ended quickly. The awkwardness was cut short, and Margaery was escorted back to the dais. She saw Lord Robb had taken up dancing with the Queen, and everyone could sense the tension that surrounded them, crackling like a thundercloud. Lord Stark looked like his face was carved from stone, and Daenerys like she was trying to act cool and confident, but her anger and annoyance with the chill manner of Lord Stark was apparent in her frown.

The rest of the feast passed with her dancing with every other man in the hall, but she felt eyes of icy blue watching her spin from one man's arms to another. She could also keep her eyes on Lord Stark as he spun ladies around the hall. But she dare not look for more than a minute, for as much as she could feel Lord Stark's eyes, she could also see Aegon watching her.

And it was unwise to anger a dragon.

Well, I wanted to do one of these for a while, but I couldn't come up with an idea. So, hope you enjoyed, tell me what you thought.