Author's Notes: So I totally thought that I published this on here, but I guess I didn't. Probably because I didn't think it was all that good. But then people started asking for a second part, so I might as well.

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Thanks, GRRM.

She found herself staring into the mirror for what felt like hours, but not seeing her reflection. Her eyes felt hollow, her hair limp, and her mind was distracted, unable to latch onto a singular thought. Though she had not seen any of the battles with her own eyes, she still felt as if she was a battle-worn soldier. War makes soldiers out of everyone, she could not help but think. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but the air felt cold around her and it burned her lungs.

"Lady Catelyn, may I come in?"

Catelyn turned around in her chair and locked eyes with Stannis Baratheon. He stood in the opening of her tent, still as a tree. Though he was a king (or at least he claimed to be), he looked more like a nervous boy. She could see him fighting it, the way he kept her gaze and did not move, but she could also see his fingering the fabric of the tent as he held it open. He was a man grown and yet he still seemed to find it difficult to speak with a woman.

"Of course, Your Grace, it is not so late yet," Catelyn told him.

Stannis stepped fully into the tent, the flap of the tent closing behind him. She watched his steps, the way he hesitated as he sauntered towards her, how almost timid he seemed. He was a king, not a boy, and yet here he was, afraid of her.

Men do not know how to deal with a grieving mother, Catelyn thought, not even when those men are kings.

She stood up from her place to meet him, and he immediately froze in his steps, a few feet away from her.

His eyes jerked away from hers. "You do not need to stand for me, my lady."

"People must stand when in the presence of their king, unless he gives them leave to sit," she said, her words gentle and almost helpful. She was reminded of all the times she tried to guide Robb, help him in the ways of being a king, and how he would listen when the men were gone but would almost blush as if being scolded in front of his friends when she did so. She was only trying to help, and yet she felt as if she only hurt.

Stannis cleared his throat. "Lord Davos says that you have been talking of Riverrun."

This time, Catelyn was the one that looked away. "It's difficult not to yearn for…home – or a home, as it were." The Lannisters had taken away everything from her, including her childhood home. They'd handed it over to the Freys, like it was theirs to give. Riverrun belonged to Edmure now that their father had passed. Riverrun is mine to cherish and love.

"I know that King's Landing is my destination, but I cannot stop myself from thinking of Storm's End at times," Stannis admitted, taking one step closer to her. He wasn't looking at her, but she saw the distant look in his eyes. He was seeing something else, a memory, maybe the Siege. Storm's End should have been his, she knew, but his older brother had given him Dragonstone instead. "I think of Dragonstone even. Though I loathed the place the entire time I was there, in this desolate cold, I can miss that place."

This war was breaking him down. She could see it plain as day. Just as it had aged Robb, turning her young son into a hardened man, it was turning Stannis into an old man, worn down by his duties and responsibilities. No one should shoulder that alone.

Catelyn ended the distance between them, standing right before him, and placed a hand on his cheek. "You will make a new home," she said quietly.

"Can it be done?" Stannis moved his face, so that her hand fell away from his face. Her touching him had been inappropriate anyways. The moment she had done it, she knew that she had crossed a line, but she had found herself caring little. What did she really have to lose? A long time ago, she had to watch her tongue and be careful of her actions, but now she had nothing holding her back. She was a Tully by blood and a Stark by name, but that meant little these days. She had no one but herself to disgrace and she had done that plenty enough when she'd set the Kingslayer free to save her daughters. "You make it sound so easy."

"It's about as easy as conquering the Seven Kingdoms," Catelyn replied, almost wryly.

Stannis was quiet for a while, still not looking at her, his eyes and mind distant from her, but when he looked at her, when his eyes caught hers, she saw a fire in them (The fire of R'hllor, she heard his Red Witch say in her mind), and it caught her off guard. "I promised you that I would avenge your son, and I have not done that yet. I feel as if I have failed you, and I…I loathe myself for that. I do not want to lie to you, as the enemy has."

"You said it yourself, Your Grace: you have not done it yet." She smiled slightly. "It is not so late."

Stannis shook his head, mostly to himself. "I knew this would take time. I know how to be patient. The Siege of Storm's End taught me that well enough. Being Robert's and Renly's brother taught me that." He ran his hand over his mouth, as if trying to wipe away any doubt or frustration that was betraying him. She knew that he was trying to bottle up his emotions or at least trying to hide his thoughts from her, but it was becoming more impossible with each passing day. He'd lost his entire family. He'd lost his home. No one understood him more than Catelyn when it came to that, not even Melisandre. "But I feel…adrift."

"You must ground yourself," Catelyn said. When he didn't respond, she reached out and grabbed his hand, knowing that she was taking a risk. But if he was fighting for himself in this war, then he was fighting for her. She had made her bed in Stannis Baratheon's camp and she would lie in it; and she knew that he would do the same the moment he had claimed the throne as rightfully his all those years ago. "Find something to hold onto and never let go."

"Find what?" He sounded so lost, so far away. He must have hid this side of himself from everyone, from Melisandre, from Davos. Stannis worked so desperately to be the king that he believed everyone needed whereas Robb had worked tirelessly to be the king that he had thought everyone wanted. "What can I hold onto?"

"A center, ground, anything to hold onto to remind you of what you are trying to accomplish."

"You?" With his other hand, Stannis grabbed hold of the hand holding his and they locked eyes. Catelyn felt her breath hitch in her throat. He'd looked her in the eyes before – he'd looked at her just moments ago – but never had he looked at her like this. There was fire and there was anger and there was fear, but there was also… There was something else. It threw her back. "Catelyn." The way he said her name, the way her name wrapped around his lips, it was enough to make her tremble. He never called her by her first name – he was too proper for that, too careful – but now, in the dead of night, it carried so much. "I can't…"

She took one more step closer, too close, to the point where their bodies were touching. "I'm here." And she had been here, for days, for months. Time had passed since Robb's death, since Edmure's capture, and she had burned and been furious and angry and hurt and she had wanted so much. She'd taken up with Stannis, knowing full well that the throne was his by rights and he was good and just and she… She had just wanted. And she had never felt so much want as she did now, not for a long time, not since Ned had been alive and warm and lying next to her with the smile that he had only worn for her in private.

"I should leave," Stannis mumbled, his voice sounding thick and husky. "It's…it's late. And we leave on the morrow."

Catelyn swallowed down whatever was in her mind and nodded her head. "Yes, perhaps–"

Suddenly his lips were pressed against hers and his grip on her hand tightened to the point where he would've drawn blood from her skin had he not been wearing gloves. She nearly gasped, but she forced it all down and closed her eyes. How long had it been since she had allowed anyone to be this close to her? (She'd forgotten what it felt like – to taste someone else, to feel the heat of their desire, to just touch another person.) The kiss deepened and he pushed against her, forcing her back and making her bump into her desk. Something fell and rolled off the table. The wood dug into her back, but she didn't care. She was far too focused on the man pressing against her and kissing her and–

And then it was over.

Stannis pulled away from her roughly. His eyes jerked to her and his mouth opened, as if he meant to say something, but then he looked down and turned away from her, all but running out of her tent. The whole thing left Catelyn feeling quite bewildered. She took in a few deep breaths, having had very little time to breath during the kiss. Her eyes were still wide and her eyebrows were raised. The warmth of his body and lips slowly began to leave her, allowing the cold to seep in where Stannis had once been. Catelyn touched her swollen lips, blinked, and then sat back down in the chair.

The entire thing had only taken a few minutes, but to Catelyn it felt like everything had changed.