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It took years. The long wars and various battles had ravaged the land. The asparagus fields had been ruined and would take years before they could grow the crop again. Countless raids from the wildings beyond the wall had most of the land’s sparse population living in fear. The land was harsh and unforgiving. Northerners were known for being a tough breed of people, but those who lived within the Gift had to be even more so to survive.
Lord and Lady Jon and Sansa Snow of the Gift put their noses to the ground and worked hard alongside their people to slowly transform the land into something truly special. Their onion crop was always plentiful and exported to different parts of Westeros. Their sheep’s wool gained the reputation of being some of the finest wool in all of Westeros and textile and garment makers began to buy it in excess, the wealthier women wanting their dresses spun from Gift wool. But it was their cranberries that truly pushed House Snow and the Gift to being one of the wealthiest in Westeros. It stunned Jon and Sansa when they went over their accounts and saw all the surplus amounts, realizing it that first time and still being amazed every time after.
Their people and their lands were flourishing, and they didn’t want to think it was because of them, but it had been Sansa’s idea to create cranberry bogs in the first place. Cranberries were hearty plants that thrived in cold weather, and they weren’t only used for food and fruit to be exported. Dyes from their cranberries were used in threads and fabrics and “authentic cranberry dyes” from the Gift started appearing in fashions all over, even popping up in Essos.
Not so long ago, everyone, including several Houses in the North, looked down on those from the Gift. Savages, they all thought, who were practically all wildings themselves. It was hard to believe that anyone actually chose to live in the Gift with no House and no Lord or leader to speak of. Who would want to live somewhere in such a place and be basically completely forgotten by everyone?
But then the North fought for, and won, their independence and their newly anointed King declared that all the North would be important to their growth and success. Robb arranged marriages for his siblings to various Houses throughout his land. His sister, Sansa, was one of the most sought-after young women for available sons in much more important Houses, but she was married to Jon Snow, a war General and hero, as well as Robb’s closest friend and confidant. For his service and loyalty, Robb had gifted Jon the title of Lord, his own House as well as all the Gift. If anyone asked, Robb would answer that of course he knew that Jon and Sansa would grow to be a love match and would truly become a force to be reckoned with when it came to the Gift’s success. That was his plan all along.
When Jon announced the first annual festival, a celebration of the Gift’s prosperity, the excitement was immediate. And as word spread, others within other parts of both the North and the rest of Westeros made plans to attend. It would be a week-long affair that included games for Knights and other men to participate in. Days before the kick-off of festivities, people began arriving in Queenscrown and tents began to be erected. The Snow sons were so excited, they could hardly concentrate on their lessons, and it was driving Samwell Tarley, the Gift’s master, slowly to madness. He was not a man to lose his temper, but the boys were driving him to lose just that. Even Garrick, the youngest and not even two yet so he fully didn’t understand what was happening, was feeding off everyone’s excitements and getting him to lay for his naps or go to sleep at night was driving Sansa, Jon and Garrick’s nurse mad.
The vendor booths and the game yards were being erected and the echo of pounding hammers for all hours of the day only added to everyone’s anticipation. The population began to swell, and Jon could hardly believe that all of these people were coming to attend a festival he had thought of once he saw the amount of extra funds the Gift now had. (He also had something else planned, but it wasn’t time for that yet.) Robb arrived with his wife, Queen Wynafryd and their daughter and heir, Princess Arya, named for the Stark daughter that had been lost to the war. The Queen Mother, Catelyn, arrived as were the two remaining Stark Princes, Bran and Rickard with their families.
Sansa’s oldest and dearest friend, Jeyne, arrived from the Wall with her husband, Lenyl, and their three children: daughters Beth and Rosie, and son, Vayon, named for her long-passed father. They had a stand to set up and would sell the animal furs that Lenyl and the children had hunted beyond the Wall, skinned and then treated the fur to either be used as clothes lining for warmth or for decorative purposes. Lenyl expected to make a pretty profit during the festival. Every room within the Keep was occupied and the single inn in Queenscrown had long been filled. People brought their tents to sleep in while others just chose to sleep outside for the next few days.
Outside of a past battle, the Gift had never seen such crowds.
The House Snow colors – grey and cranberry – decorated everything. Sigil flags of House Snow with the profile of a ram, modeled after Lady Sansa’s beloved ram, Dorren, who had recently passed away, flapped in the wind wherever a flag may be hung. Scents of roasted meats and cranberry tarts and pies filled the air until it was impossible to smell anything else. Farmers sold their crops and animals. Men were signing up for the tournament games and one of the larger men in the Gift was hosting his own contest of “Guess My Weight”. Another had a glass jar and others made guesses of how many cranberries were stuffed inside. There were even games for children, including ram races where the smaller children rode rams to a designated finish line for prizes. Tormund and some of the other wildings also came to the festival and Tormund sat in the stands, cheering the loudest of all as he proudly watched his son, Del, Jon’s page, as he participated in a sword fight against another page. Del tried to ignore him and concentrate. He loved his father, but Tormund’s enthusiasm could be somewhat embarrassing.
Jon and Sansa walked the festival grounds with their two youngest sons – Jory and Garrick. They had lost their older three, Ethan, Robbie and Hoster, as soon as Sansa rang the bell that morning and Jon announced to all that the Queenscrown Festival had begun. Everyone they passed bowed or dipped into curtsies at the appearance of their Lord and Lady and Jon and Sansa made sure they stopped at each stand, speaking with the man or woman working there and asking questions of what they were selling while looking over the selections. It took a bit of time to go through everything and speak with everyone and Jon kept looking upwards at the sun to check on its position in the sky.
“What are you doing?” Sansa finally had to ask, a slight laugh in her tone.
“I had scheduled something for us,” he said and with a hand on the small of her back, he began gently guiding her in a particular direction. Jory was walking in front of them and Garrick, the babe, was being held in Sansa’s arms, propped on her hip.
“The tourney?” She assumed. Jon, himself, had entered the jousting category, but that wasn’t scheduled until later this afternoon. She now looked up to the sun as well. It was still too early for Jon to leave and get himself prepared.
In the direction they were going, Sansa heard growing shouts of a crowd and eager bleating of sheep, all drowned together in a noisy cacophony. She looked to Jon to see what was going on, but he didn’t say anything and his face revealed nothing. She knew that many throughout the gift had brought their sheep to sell so perhaps they were just going to go see how it was going. But ahead, from the crowd, Harmund, their stable master, stepped forward. He smiled and bowed at the pair.
“Over thirty have entered, my Lord, and I have narrowed it down to the best eight. Good health and teeth, good coat, ears and bones. It’s now up to my Lady,” Harmund said.
“What are you talking about?” Sansa asked her husband with a furrowed brow.
Jon smiled a little and reached over to take Garrick into his own arms. “I have sent out messages to all of the shepherds in the Gift. Those interested have presented their best lamb for Harmund’s examination. You are now the one to bestow the ultimate honor upon whichever shepherd with the lamb you like best.”
Sansa’s lips parted to speak, but she found that no words were actually forming.
“It is a much larger affair than when I chose Dorren as a wedding present for you, but I thought perhaps you would like to choose your next pet for yourself.”
Sansa had no idea he had anything like this planned and she felt tears begin to build in her eyes. She exhaled a shaky breath. Her sweet Dorren who had died just a few months earlier. Jon had asked her if she would want another, but she had showed hesitancy. She was still mourning for her beloved pet and hadn’t had the heart for another. But she looked at her husband and felt so overwhelmed, the air nearly caught in her throat and refused to exit her body.
She looked to Harmund, who smiled at her. He was holding a cranberry ribbon in his hand. “For whichever lamb you choose. There is also one for the shepherd to wear so all will know that they provided their Lady’s next prized ram. It will be an extremely high honor, my Lady.”
She sniffled and nodded. It would. The shepherd would spend the rest of the festival, rightfully bragging and showing off this ribbon that the Lady Sansa of the Gift had bestowed. And Sansa would have a new lamb to love. She still couldn’t find the words. She looked back to Jon, who was watching her closely. There was a bit of doubt beginning to work in from the edges of his eyes.
“If it’s still too soon-” he began to say and his words were no surprise to her. Jon was always doing these gestures for her and then worrying that he was doing the wrong thing.
And just like Sansa always did when he questioned himself, she pushed herself forward and kissed him whether it was proper or not to be so open about a kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered to him once their lips had parted. Dorren had been the wedding present from a young man who was a complete stranger to a young woman, nervous to be a bride and unsure of the life that stretched ahead of her. This new lamb would be for the next stage of her life – a Lady of a prosperous House, loved by her people, her husband, and their five sons. “I am ready,” she then stated for both Jon and Harmund to hear her.
Jon breathed and she smiled as she took Jory’s hand. Together, they all began walking towards the loud crowd gathered around the bleating sheep.
“What will you name this one?” Jon wondered.
Sansa didn’t pause to think. “Dorren the Second.”
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