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Rickard Stark broke the seal on his son's letter, expecting the usual report of fosterage progress and Vale politics. What he read instead made him set down his wine cup with more care than necessary.
"Robert Baratheon grows jealous of Arthur Snow's attention to Lyanna. Storm's End feels slighted by the silence around the betrothal. Lord Arryn counsels patience, but the boy's frustration builds."
Rickard read the passage twice, his mind already working through implications. He'd delayed the formal betrothal announcement deliberately—the southern houses needed to see the North's growing strength before committing Lyanna to an alliance that would bind her to Storm's End's fortunes. But delay bred its own complications, as Ned's careful words made clear.
"Trouble?" Rodrik Cassel asked from across the solar, noting his lord's expression.
"Complications," Rickard corrected, passing the letter across. "Read the section about young Baratheon."
Rodrik scanned the relevant passages, his weathered face settling into a frown. "The boy thinks himself entitled to her already. Dangerous, that kind of presumption."
"He's been raised to expect it," Rickard said, retrieving the letter. "Lord Steffon and I discussed the match years ago, before..." He gestured vaguely, encompassing everything that had changed since Arthur Snow's arrival. "Before circumstances shifted."
"Does the match still serve the North's interests?" Rodrik asked bluntly. "With what Snow has built, with the Hollow Vale producing wealth, with our lords gathering to formalize new capabilities—do we need Storm's End's strength as desperately as we did three years ago?"
The question Rickard had been avoiding, spoken plainly in the privacy of his solar. He stood, moving to the window that overlooked Winterfell's training yards where soldiers drilled with techniques Arthur had introduced, their movements more precise and coordinated than anything Rickard had seen in his youth.
"The North grows stronger," he admitted. "But we remain vulnerable in ways that Storm's End's alliance would address. Naval power, southern trade routes, political weight in King's Landing—these aren't things we can build overnight, no matter how revolutionary Snow's methods prove."
"Then you still intend the betrothal?"
"I intend to make the decision that serves the North best," Rickard said carefully. "Which requires understanding what that service looks like in our changed circumstances." He tapped Ned's letter against his palm, thinking. "My son writes that Robert grows jealous of Arthur Snow's attention to Lyanna. What does that tell you?"
Rodrik considered. "That the boy sees Snow as a rival. That he's possessive of something he doesn't yet have the right to claim. That he might prove... difficult... if the match proceeds and Lyanna maintains ties to Winterfell's new developments."
"Precisely." Rickard returned to his desk, pulling out reports from the Hollow Vale—production figures, trade revenues, capabilities assessments. "Arthur Snow has created something extraordinary. Enhanced soldiers, economic growth, innovations that put the North ahead of southern houses in specific areas. But he's done so quietly, carefully, always deferring to House Stark's authority."
"You think Robert Baratheon would be less... accommodating?"
"I think Robert Baratheon is a warrior who sees the world in terms of conquest and possession." Rickard's tone was measured but pointed. "A useful ally in war, certainly. But in peace, with a wife who has connections to power that doesn't flow through him..." He let the implication hang.
Rodrik absorbed this, his frown deepening. "You're reconsidering the betrothal."
"I'm considering everything," Rickard corrected. "The assembly begins in two days. Every major northern house will see what we've built, what's possible when traditional methods are enhanced by new approaches. Their response will determine how much of the North we can truly unite behind these changes."
He gestured at the maps spread across his desk, marked with territories and resources. "If the northern lords embrace what Snow has created, if they commit to coordinated training and enhanced capabilities, then the North becomes formidable enough that we negotiate alliances from strength rather than need. Storm's End would still offer value, but we wouldn't be dependent on that value."
"And if the lords resist?"
"Then we proceed more carefully, maintain traditional alliances, ensure we have southern support if internal opposition becomes problematic." Rickard's expression remained neutral, the face of a man weighing options without sentiment. "Either path serves the North. The question is which path serves it better."
"What will you tell Lord Arryn?" Rodrik asked, nodding at Ned's letter. "He expects some response to Storm's End's concerns."
Rickard was silent for a long moment, his mind working through the delicate balance required. Too quick a confirmation would lock them into the betrothal before understanding the assembly's outcome. Too clear a hesitation would insult Storm's End and potentially create an enemy where they'd planned an ally.
"I'll write to Jon Arryn," he said finally. "Thank him for his guidance of Ned, acknowledge the importance of the Baratheon alliance, and note that the upcoming assembly requires my full attention but that formal announcements regarding the betrothal will follow soon after. Diplomatic enough to maintain the relationship, vague enough to preserve flexibility."
"And the truth?" Rodrik pressed. "What's your actual intention?"
Rickard met his master-at-arms' gaze directly. "My intention is to ensure that whatever decision I make regarding Lyanna's betrothal serves the North's interests above all other considerations. Robert Baratheon may prove an excellent match—a strong warrior, an alliance with a powerful house, political weight in the realm's councils. Or he may prove... complicated... given his temperament and our changing circumstances."
He picked up Ned's letter again, rereading the passages about Robert's jealousy and frustration. "My son writes with concern about his friend's state of mind. That tells me Ned sees warning signs, even if he doesn't fully acknowledge them. And Ned, for all his youth, has good instincts about character."
"Arthur Snow also has good instincts," Rodrik observed quietly. "And he's been training Lyanna personally. Teaching her things that make her... less suited... to a traditional southern marriage."
The implication hung heavy between them. Lyanna wasn't the same girl who'd been informally promised to Robert Baratheon years ago. She'd learned combat, strategy, enhanced awareness techniques. She'd become someone who would chafe under the restrictions a Storm's End marriage would impose, someone whose capabilities would threaten a husband who valued traditional gender roles.
"Arthur Snow," Rickard said carefully, "has created value for House Stark beyond anything I could have anticipated. But he's also created complications in areas where I'd hoped for simplicity. Whether those complications ultimately help or hinder the North remains to be seen."
"You don't trust him?"
"I trust that he serves the North's interests as he understands them," Rickard replied. "But his understanding comes from... unusual perspectives. He sees patterns others miss, anticipates developments others don't expect. Sometimes that's invaluable. Sometimes it's unnerving."
He thought of conversations with Arthur—the young man's careful deference always edged with something that suggested he was playing a longer game than anyone else fully grasped. Not hostile, not even particularly manipulative, but definitely strategic in ways that went beyond ordinary ambition.
"The assembly will clarify much," Rickard said, setting Ned's letter aside with other correspondence requiring responses. "We'll see how the northern lords react to what we've built, how Arthur Snow handles diplomatic pressures from men who resent change, how all the pieces we've been arranging actually fit together when tested."
"And then you'll decide about Lyanna's betrothal?"
"Then I'll have the information necessary to make that decision properly," Rickard confirmed. "For now, we prepare for the assembly, ensure everything proceeds smoothly, and demonstrate that House Stark's innovations strengthen rather than threaten the North's traditional order."
Rodrik stood to leave, then paused at the door. "My lord, if I may speak plainly—Lyanna won't accept a match she doesn't want. Not now, not after everything she's learned and become. If you try to enforce a betrothal to Robert Baratheon against her will..."
"Then I'll have a different kind of problem than political complications with Storm's End," Rickard finished. "I'm aware. My daughter has always had a wild spirit. Arthur Snow has simply given her tools to express that spirit more... effectively."
After Rodrik departed, Rickard remained at his desk, staring at the reports and letters that represented so many moving pieces in games he was still learning to play. The North changed. The South reacted. His children grew into people he barely recognized. And through it all, Arthur Snow quietly built systems that enhanced everyone's capabilities while somehow maintaining just enough deference to avoid triggering opposition.
Patterns in chaos, Rickard thought, remembering a phrase Arthur had used once when explaining his approach to training. Find the underlying structure, work with it rather than against it, and you can accomplish things that seem impossible through direct force.
The betrothal to Robert Baratheon had seemed inevitable—a sensible alliance between houses that served mutual interests. But inevitability assumed static circumstances, and circumstances had proven anything but static since Arthur Snow's arrival.
Now Rickard faced the uncomfortable reality that the match he'd considered settled might actually represent a constraint that limited rather than enhanced the North's options. And decisions made from limited options rarely proved optimal in the long term.
He would wait. Watch. Let the assembly reveal what the northern lords truly thought about House Stark's new direction. And then, with better information and clearer understanding of the political landscape, he would decide whether Robert Baratheon represented the ally the North needed or simply the ally they'd once assumed they needed before everything changed.
Rickard Stark hadn't become Lord of Winterfell by refusing to adapt when circumstances shifted. He wouldn't start now, no matter how uncomfortable the necessary adaptations proved.