The Wedding feast

[The Smith]

"His family got axed or packed north a few years back. They supported the stag not the dragon." The grizzled man shrugged, "Its a better life anyway."

[Flex]

Lyanne frowned. "That makes sense... I hope he won't go off and do something stupid." She looked up to see if she could spot him in the crowd.

[The Smith]

"He has not yet. And if he does, what does it matter. He lives on the wall, his days already have a conclusssion prepared." The man replied.

[Flex]

"He can still do good," Lyanne replied. "He could become First Ranger, or Lord Commander. A man doesn't just give up." She spat on the floor.

[The Smith]

"Well I doubt any would follow that lordling." He replied with a wince, "Except at sword point."

[Flex]

"Is he that bad?" Lyanne asked skeptically. "Surely you can make something out of him."

[The Smith]

"He commands here, not I." The man replied, "He is a lordling, and I am the son of a poacher."

[Flex]

"And yet you are the experienced one," Lyanne said pointedly. "If he's in command and he doesn't like feasts then what the hells are you doing here?"

[The Smith]

"The world works in one way, even if it is an unfair, fucked up way." He replied with a smile.

[Flex]

"Now that's a truth if there is one," Lyanne said with a chuckle, grabbing a mug of ale and drinking deeply from it. "Well, I hope you have a pleasant evening. And don't let the young lord get away." She flashed him a boyish smile and left.

[Flex]

Jon Bolton returned to the feast and sat back down.

[House Frey]

William was teaching his son the finer, more proper ways of eating with your hands.