You had never been to the north of Westeros before, never straying far from your home city, often contained within the walls of the palace you were born and raised in. As the eldest and only daughter of a noble family, you had always been prepared to one day marry someone for politics and if you were lucky, you would love him one day. If you were to have a future resembling the life you had lived thus far, you were reliant on finding a man that had money and status as everything of your family name would go to your younger brother.

With a ball being held in Winterfell, your mother had bought an expensive gown embroidered with your house insignia whilst also reiterating everything you needed to do to impress a man. The ball was being held by the Stark's and it was clearly meant to find a wife for their eldest son, not that it was explicitly stated. Your parents hoped that you'd catch his eye, but they'd accept any noble family name to create a strong alliance with.

You had never met the Stark's so didn't know what you were meant to be looking for to determine which woman was Robb, but you just hoped you'd find a man willing to dance with you and make your family proud without completely hating the night.

Even though your corset was digging in slightly and your shoes had stopped the blood flow to your toes, you kept a false smile on your face as you entered the ballroom. You expected to have to go find somewhere to stand off to the side of the dancing crowds but before you could set up your place, a man approached you.

He was close to your age and well presented, and from the women giggling and staring at him, you could only assume he was from a good family. Bowing down, he reached out a hand to you.

"May I have this dance m'lady?"

You took his hand. "It would be my honour."

Standing up straight, he led you onto the dance floor, moving to hold you with a confident grasp. It felt as though your heart was going to pound out of your chest, but you hoped desperately he couldn't tell. You did your best to follow his lead, and do as you had been taught since you could walk.

"May I know the name of the most beautiful woman to grace this palace?" He smiled.

Heat rushed to your face. "Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N."

"It is a privilege to have this dance."

"And may I know your name?"

He chuckled. "Robb Stark."

~*~

Written by Charlotte.