Disclaimer: I don't own the Tudors/Game of thrones or any of its characters. Nor do I make any profit from this.
Title: Winter is coming
Pairing: Katherine of Aragon/Ned Stark, Katherine of Aragon/Stannis, Katherine of Aragon/Tywin Lannister
Rated: M
Summary: AU world. What if Catelyn Stark died in childbirth giving birth to Rickon? Eddard needing a mother for his children he marries the sister-in-law to the king of England, Edmund Tudor, Katherine of Aragon.
Prologue
He trembled as he looked at the bloody infant in the midwife's arms. He turned from the sight, thinking that it was dead. Benjen who had been at his side as he waited on about Catelyn wore a look of shock on his face.
He didn't blame his brother from turning away. He felt his stomach twist in disgust, it was ironic, he had seen worse things than this, and he never felt sick, but the sight of innocent blood turned his stomach. He looked at his brother in his pity, who was lost in his own world. He couldn't help but curse the Gods, his family already lost so much, with Brandon and Lyanna, why did this have to happen?
Ned was oblivious to the pitying look that he was receiving from Benjen.
He knew that he should be saddened at the child's death, but all he could feel was relief. He was glad that if anyone had die it had been the child.
He knew that sounded monstrous, but he held no guilt of shame for thinking this. Better the child, then his beloved Cat.
He never wanted another child in the first place; he was content with stopping with Bran. He would never admit this to anyone, but the reason that he didn't want another child was that he scared. Neither him or Catelyn were getting any younger and he heard that childbirth was harder for older women then younger. He was deathly afraid of something happening to her. She had come into his life when he least expected it. She had been his brother's wife, then when he died, he felt that it was his duty to take care of her, so he had married. He had never expected to love her, but as time had passed his love for her grew deeper.
He had been having dreams as of late, dreams that frightened to his very core. In his dreams he standing
In the dreams he is always standing in the woods behind Winterfell.
He was surrounded by thick layer of fog, he could barely see anything. He then began to wonder where Catelyn and the children are. Why am I just standing here? he asks himself. He should be moving, doing something, making sure that his family was okay.
Just then he saw something in the distance, he could barely make it out due to the thickness of the fog. He cursed under his breath, wishing that he had his sword on him. "Who goes there," he called out, he was greeted in silence. Just then he spotted a figure, who was around his height. He couldn't make out the man's face due to the dark cloak that he was wearing. Just then a chill ran down his spine noting that the man was holding what appeared to be a scythe in his hands.
"Who the hell are you, what do you want?" he groused at the man, still silence greeted him, which frustrated. Why won't the bastard answer?
Just then Cat appeared before him, she gave him a tender smile. Where the hell did she come from? he couldn't help but question. It was like she appeared to him like a ghost. He then began to panic realizing that the cloaked man was walking slowly towards his wife.
"Cat behind you," he shouted, fear pulsing through him.
He then began to move to his wife, he wanted to grab her and throw her behind him, but to his shock he couldn't move it was like he stuck to the ground.
Instead of obeying her husband, Catelyn gave him a look that had both pity and love mixed into it. She turned and made her way towards the dark cloaked figure.
"No! Cat, what are you doing?" he screamed. He then watched in helplessness the cloaked figure held out his hand to her, and Catelyn placed her hand in his.
Just then Ned heard the sounds of horrible cruel laughter coming from the cloaked figure.
Ned shuddered every-time he thought about the dream; he couldn't help but think that this was some kind of omen, warning him of the future events to come. After getting his thoughts together, he then began to interpret the dream. He realized that the man wearing the dark cloak and holding the scythe was death. And Cat taking his hand, meant only one thing death was coming to her. He was not going to let him have her. Ned was determined this fate. He would not plant seed in his wife's womb.
A part of him knew that he should go to Cat with this, but he knew that she would dismiss his fears and be more determined to show him that he was wrong. Besides, he was not the type of man to express his fears. To him that was the ultimate weakness.
Despite his resolution not to impregnate his wife, it was harder than he expected and he ended up giving into temptation and sleeping with his wife. Weeks later she informed him that she was with child. He tried to hold back the nausea that he was feeling. He tried to act like he was happy about the pregnancy, all he could feel was a growing resentment for this child. He then realized that he would never love this child like he did his other children. Maybe it was a blessing that the child was dead. No child should come to this world unloved by its parent.
Coming back to the present, he turned back to the midwife. He didn't bother to look at the bundle in her arms. He was going to tell her to take the corpse somewhere and he would make arrangements to have it buried later. First he needed to see his wife. Just then he heard a whimper.
Both his and Benjen's eyes widen in shock, realizing that the sound was coming from the infant.
"It's alive," he choked, looking at the squirming infant; he couldn't help but think that this was a miracle.
The midwife frowned in confusion. "You thought it was dead," she gasped. She then looked at the child in her arms, though he did appear too weak and frail, he was otherwise a healthy child. Just then she heard shouts coming from the birthing chambers.
She went to hand the infant to its father, but he repelled from the infant. Not having time to think about Lord Starks actions, she quickly handed the child over to its uncle who held it close.
She then ran into the birthing chambers.
She could tell by the look on the women's faces that it was to late, Lady Stark had passed in the next world. She looked at the body of Lady Stark, who appeared to be sleeping, but she could tell that she was dead.
"Catelyn," she heard a voice say behind her.
She turned to see Ned Stark standing behind her.
"I'm sorry," she began, feeling terribly sorry for the man.
Walking over to the body of his wife, he just stared at for a long time not reacting to it all.
Just then Benjen entered the chambers still holding his nephew, he was heartbroken over the loss of his sister-in-law but his greater concern was over his brother, he thought that Ned could take some comfort in his son. Ned was not having it. His eyes flashed with hatred when his brother tried to hand him the child.
He wanted nothing more than take the demon spawn and throw it against the wall.
"Get that demon from my sight," he snarled at his brother. "That bastard is the reason Cat is dead."
Benjen just looked at him with shock and pity. He never saw his brother act this cold, especially towards a child. He knew that it would do no good to reason with his brother, he was in the throes of grief. Once his brother calm down he would realize his mistake. But there was something telling him that was not the case. He had never seen his brother look at anyone with so much hatred as he did this child.
He quickly left the room, leaving his brother to his grief. He then handed the child over to the midwife so she can wash him. "Poor tad," she cooed, feeling sorry that the infant had not only lost his mother, but he seemed to lose his father as well.
"What is he to be called?" she asked, looking up at the younger Stark. Benjen hesitated for a second. He was not sure if he should wait and allow his brother to name it or go ahead and do it himself. He then decided to name him, who knows how long Ned is going to be like this, and the child needed some stability and giving him a name, an identity. He looked at the child for a long moment, his eyes softening noting that the child was the spitting image of his mother.
"He will be called Rickon."
To be continued.