This short one-shot is written in honor and memory of my Mother...of whom raised me to be who I am today and passed on her writing talent. Thank you, mom, for being the best and kindest person I knew and for being my rock and home. 1959-2016
This story does skip events and such...so there's your warning.
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She's special
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When one marries a man, they hope to marry out of love and not duty.
Catelyn Stark remembers the day of her marriage to her husband, Eddard, and smiles fondly at the memory. She begged her father to change his mind, to find another Lord with another castle to marry her to.
"Please, father, you must change your mind! Eddard, I don't know him, I don't love him-"
Her father looked at her with anger in his eyes, "Love? It's never about love, Catelyn, it is about land and good breeding." The young girl sobbed all night, er sister Lysa at her side, rubbing her back and whispering, "Just think of it, Cat, it will be lovely. I will marry Jon and you shall marry your Stark boy! We shall be known throughout the land..." She trailed off as her sister sobbed louder and with a huff, Lysa stood and hissed, "You best get over it. I will not let you ruin our wedding."
Both sisters married on the same day, married to men that would give them a good home, a good name, and plenty of land.
...
"You're looking plump."
Catelyn looked up from her sewing, shaking those memories from long ago out of her mind as she saw her husband before her. She smiled and let the sewing fall from her fingers, "You are quite the romantic, Ned." She saw the smile she had come to love form on his face as he turned away and began to clean his long sword. She was pregnant with their second child and already eight moons along, her large belly causing her pain in the night, making her bedridden until the day she would push their second son out. Another son. The thought of it made Catelyn sigh, catching the attention of her husband at the end of the bed.
Ned turned around, "What causes my Lady's sigh?" She sighed once more, "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking of what the Maester has told us. You know, of this one being a boy as well." Ned cocked an eyebrow, "You do not want another?" She silently shook her head, not saying another word as the laughter of children could be heard down the hall, running their way to the room. Catelyn looked towards the door to see it open only an inch, "Momma?" Their son Robb entered first, his little feet carrying him as fast as he could run towards the bed where his father and mother sat. Ned pulled Robb onto his lap, "My boy! Have you been working hard?" Robb was only three, but a smart boy with a head full of curly brown hair. Movement from the doorway caught their attention again,
"Jon?"
A small boy about Robb's age peeked in the room, his long black hair on his shoulders, "Papa?" Catelyn pursed her lips as she watched the little one run to Ned as well, as if he were their own son. Ned, seeing his wife's discomfort at the sight of Jon, picked the two boys up, "Let's give mother a bit of rest, hm? Catelyn, sleep and when you wake, I will be at your side."
...
"My Lady, you are quite ready to push."
Catelyn grasped at anything she could get her hands on, sheets, maidens, the Maester, for the pain she felt was unbearable. She could hear Ned shouting just outside the door and she screamed, "Shut him up or I swear I will lift myself from my birthing bed and do it!" Catelyn truly loved Ned, truly, but the pain was causing her to lash out at everyone. She was giving birth early and the Maester had cause for concern, since this birth was taking nearly a whole day. He swore, "My Lady, with as much pain you feel and how long this is taking, rest assured that this will be a strong son." She caught her breath and closed her eyes as a nurse maiden wet her forehead.
It was time.
She watched the Maester disappear under the sheet, "Push!" With several grunts, screams, and cries, Catelyn finally gave birth to an early babe. She listened to the cry that echoed through the birthing chamber and when her eyes laid upon the small pink babe, tears of joy strung to her eyes at what she saw. She choked out, "A girl! Thank the seven, it's a girl!" From the time she gave birth to Robb, she wanted a girl for herself. Someone she could brush hair with, dress in beautiful gowns, and speak of secrets with. She never had that with her sister Lysa and now a baby girl was held high before her, screaming and wanting to be fed and held by her mother.
As soon as she was placed in her mother's arms, the small girl calmed and peacefully slept against the warmth of her mother's bosom. Ned burst through the doors and choked back tears at the sight of his wife, his beautiful wife, and his newborn child.
"A girl?"
Catelyn looked up at him and nodded, "She's beautiful, Ned. Come." Ned walked over to the bed with light steps as if not to wake her and when he saw the small head full of light red hair, he whispered, "Like her mother. A job well done, my wife, you have given me another beautiful gift." Ned kissed his wife on her forehead, "What shall you name her?"
Catelyn smiled, "I have had her name picked since I was just a girl. She shall be Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell."
...
"I'm in love with him, Mother."
Catelyn stopped braiding her daughter's hair and looked down, "Love? What do you know of love, Sansa?" Sansa turned in her chair, "I know that when you love someone, you can feel it in your heart and belly." Catelyn rolled her eyes, "You are ten years old, child, you are not in love." Sansa gave a pout and turned away from Catelyn, letting her continue to braid her hair. They would do this often, simply sit in front of a fire, Sansa reading to her mother from her book of fairy tales while her hair would get braided or brushed. Sansa had the longest, reddest, and shiniest hair in the North and possibly all of Westeros, so touching it and brushing it was one of Catelyn's favorite times of day.
Sansa whispered, "But, he told me he loved me..."
Her mother dropped her hair and rushed around her, "Listen to me, Sansa, and listen close. Boys will tell you anything you would like to hear just so you will settle. Don't settle, Sansa, do not stop until you are sure and true. Who is this boy?" Sansa wiped a tear from her cheek, "William, he-he works with his father in the stables-"
"The stable boy? Oh, Sansa, no! You are a Lady of Winterfell and you will not settle for a stable boy!"
Catelyn watched Sansa run from the room in tears and then sat on the floor, her hand on her belly, "Oh, how I hope for this to be a boy."
...
Sansa watched as Joffrey dismounted his horse, his eyes keeping hers as his mother grasped his shoulder and whispered into his ear. Catelyn glanced at Sansa and then whispered to Ned, "How old is the boy?" Ned eyed Joffrey and thought, "Ten and four." They watched as he approached and all bowed or curtsied, "My Lord, welcome to Winterfell." It was Ned that spoke, for he was the only one that ever met the boy when he was a babe. Joffrey eyed Ned and gave a nod, "Thank you, Lord Stark, I have heard only good things about you and your family from my father." He looked over at Sansa and walked her way, "I am sorry, but I don't believe we have ever met." Sansa blushed as he took her pale hand in his and kissed her knuckles, "Lady..." Sansa quickly spoke, "Sansa Stark, my Lord." She heard her younger sister Arya gag and after a sharp look of the eyes, "Please, call me Joffrey, my Lady."
"Joffrey!"
Queen Cersei Baratheon snapped at her son, "Here, now!" The blonde haired prince kissed Sansa's knuckles once more and slowly walked back to his mother.
...
"He's so handsome."
Catelyn found her and Sansa once again brushing and braiding hair as they spoke of boys. Sansa sighed and giggled, "Did you see how he looked at me? His eyes were so intense, so green and-and"
"Intense? He's only a few years older than you, Sansa, there is nothing intense about him just yet."
Sansa completely ignored her comment, "The Queen!" She spun around in her seat, her half down braid coming undone, "Do you think she will like me? Mother, please, I must make a good impression with her, she's his mother!" Catelyn smiled and rolled her eyes, "I am trying to help you get ready for the feast, then we will talk of good impressions." Sansa calmly turned back and winced as her hair was tugged. Her mind drifted to Joffrey, "You cannot deny that he is handsome..." Catelyn paused her actions, "Yes, Sansa, he is handsome." When she finished her hair, Catelyn placed her hands on her daughters shoulders, wanting to hold onto her for much longer than what time was left. She knew at Sansa's age, she should be going to feasts, meeting Lord's and Noblemen, and even within the year, getting married. That was how it was done, just like her and her mother before her. Catelyn nearly wept as she watched Sansa leave the room with a smile on her face and her head held high.
The Prince showed interest in Sansa and only her, who would not be so proud? Catelyn thought of her three boys and two girls, that was enough, wasn't it? She would not have anymore children now, for they had a castle full, but her first born girl, the one she loved and cherished, was growing up and if the match was ideal, she would marry.
...
Sansa cried as she felt the cold steel of a sword slap her legs before she tumbled to the ground. Through hot tears, she tried to get through the pain as her dressed was ripped from behind. Even through this abuse, Sansa wanted to cry out, "I wish my mother were here!" Her mind drifted as Lord Tyrion came to her rescue...
"You will be fine, Sansa."
Sansa grabbed her mother in a hug once more, clinging to her like a tiny lost child find their mother. Catelyn gently pushed her back and held her face, "The Queen likes you, my dear, the Prince shows his affection for you openly, everything will be just fine. Besides, your father will be here and as will Arya." Sansa looked down at her little sister who in turn rolled her eyes before walking away. Sansa whispered, "I just don't understand why you have to go."
Catelyn kissed her forehead, "Robb needs me, Sansa, as does the North. When you are married to the Prince and make a life for yourself, perhaps you shall come home to visit, but for now you must be strong until I see you again."
"My Lady?"
Sansa looked down at Tyrion and spoke, "Joffrey is my one true love."
...
"They have your sisters, Robb."
Robb Stark King of the North, looked at his mother with a blank expression, "False. They have Sansa. Mother, Arya is gone, missing or even dead. They are keeping Sansa hostage and they will do so until we give them back their precious Jaime Lannister." Catelyn nodded, "Exactly right. Please, let us trade for Sansa and we will be able to keep her safe-"
"I will not put your safety or mine in jeopardy. Sansa is sheltered, she eats, she sleeps, she is dressed. For now, we wait until our battle is done, then we shall help her."
Catelyn was speechless and felt completely helpless at his words. She knew of the horrible things that were happening in Kings Landing, but Robb could not care less at the moment. She argued, "Your father built our family on a strong foundation, my son. He would be disappointed to hear you say that family does not come first." Robb smirked, "This family was built on honor. Honor comes first, mother, then family. Sansa is as safe as she can be as of now-"
His mother grabbed a leather strap across his chest, "How dare you! Is torture safe? She is being beaten and you only care for honor?! I will do what I must to bring this family back together." She pushed him away and left the tent, "Lady Brienne!" A tall woman in armor stepped forward and bowed, "My Lady?"
"Bring me to the Kingslayer."
...
Sansa held her bodice in place as her ties were tightened on her back. When she saw herself in the mirror, she saw a glimpse of her mother looking back at her. She remembered Lord Baelish whispering into her ear only months before that she was growing into a beautiful woman, how she looked just as her mother did at that age.
Shae looked at Sansa's reflection, "We are running out of time." At those words, a knock on the door came and Sansa quickly fixed her skirts before turning to find her future husband looking up at her. She felt disgust forming in the pit of her stomach as she looked at the disgrace of the Lannister family. Lord Tyrion smiled, "You look beautiful, my Lady, a true vision in this city of rats." Although she was unhappy in life, Sansa smiled, "Thank you, Lord Tyrion." Sansa wed the imp in a quick ceremony, her mind drifting to her childhood and family as words were said. When she looked back at the crowd of people behind her, after her eyes caught Joffrey's and Cersei's, Sansa found herself almost searching the other faces to see her mother and father.
They should have been there.
...
"Are you ready, mother?"
Catelyn looked back at her eldest son and smiled, "Of course." She dropped a small piece of parchment she held in her hand, watching it fall into a small pond before she took his offered hand. Catelyn looked around their surroundings, "The Twins can be quite lovely at sunset, but not so lovely in the dark." Robb chuckled, "Lord Frey is an ugly old man, mother, the castle represents the Lord." He received no response, so he pushed on, "What did you drop into the pond?"
Her silence was broken, "A note to your sisters." Her answer was short and sweet, but Robb knew. He knew that his mother loved Sansa and Arya very much and that she was still heartbroken they were not there. He sighed, "When we leave this place, I promise you, mother, I will find Arya and then rescue Sansa." Catelyn looked up at her son as they entered the great hall, "Promises are broken too often, Robb, but I would like that very much."
...
Cersei rushed down the halls, her guards nearly running to keep up with their Queen. In her pale hand she carried a crumpled letter from the North, which made her smile. As she entered the councils chamber, she slammed the note down in front of her father, "Read it!" Lord Tywin looked up at her before taking the note in his hands, "Well, quite the news." Cersei smiled, "Robb and Catelyn Stark are dead, father, do you know what that means?" He smirked, "It means something different to you than it does to me. You want your brother back and I want the North-"
"Did you hear?"
The King entered, a sneer on his face as he rushed around the table, "Robb Stark is dead!" The boy King was giddy as he laughed, "When we will get the body? I want to serve his head on a platter to Sansa!"
Tyrion knew before all of them.
Lord Varys intercepted the note before Cersei got her claws on it and told the short man of the news. His heart broke for Sansa. the poor girl was unhappy in life, in marriage, and she barely spoke to him already. As he approached the doorway to their chambers, he watched as a handmaiden shuffled from the room with tears upon her cheeks. His short legs rushed him into the room and he looked around for his young wife, of whom he saw looking out at the sea from their balcony.
"Sansa."
Sansa heard Tyrion's voice and snapped her head in his direction, showing her red face, uncontrollable tears rushing from her eyes, "Leave me." He took a step forward, but Sansa took a step back, "I said to leave me! You are part of this. My mother-my family- they are all gone and because of you and your family." She began to sob as she grabbed a glass of wine sitting on a nearby table, "I hope you all suffer for what you have done!" With a scream she threw the full glass at Tyrion before she grabbed her skirts and ran from the room.
...
Six Years Later...
A train of men on horseback rode silently towards their destination through mud and rain. In the distance, the welcome sight of a castle stood tall and proud even in such dreary whether. As the got closer to the castles gates, a man shouted, "Halt!" Their leader looked to his right and questioned, "Do you have orders for your men?" The person he spoke to removed the hood of her cloak, "Only to open the gates so I may sit in front of a hot fire. This weather is horrid."
Sansa smiled as her companion snorted, "You might have to get used to that again, Little Bird." Her companion was no one else other than Sandor Clegane. After Sansa escaped her prison and marriage from Ramsay Bolton, she found Sandor traveling near the North lines. After the rise of the Mother of Dragons and the death of the Boltons, Sansa was free once more. Her and Sandor fell in love during their travels to Braavos, bringing Sansa more happiness than she had had in years. She was able to come home to Winterfell, finding that the castle still had half burnt Bolton flags on display, but no one there to threaten her or her growing family.
She winced in pain as Sandor helped her from her mare and placed her down in the mud. Her hand rested on her belly, "I need to eat soon or your child is sure to throw a fit." Sandor eyed her rounding belly and chuckled, "Aye, come on, little bird, let's get into the castle and see what we can hunt in the woods."
...
"They never found her remains. I've heard stories about her being alive, but not the same."
Sandor handed Sansa a cup of hot ale, "Alive? Sansa, they slit her throat and tossed her in a river. I don't mean to sound cruel, but it's the truth." Sansa nodded, "I know what they did, Sandor, but I also know these stories could be true. There have been sightings all over Westeros. She travels with a group of men-" Sandor placed a hand on her belly, "Catelyn Stark is gone, Sansa, you must not dwell on her death. You are carrying my pup now, you have to take care of yourself." Her soft smile calmed the tension, "You're right."
...
Many nights later, in the darkness of the wood surrounding Winterfell, a cloaked figure looked out at the castle from atop her horse. She looked up at the moon, her gray skin bright from the moonlight and the scratches on her face slowly seeping blood and puss. Her voice hissed softly,
"Sansa..."
"Lady Stoneheart, what shall we do next?"
The woman looked back and coughed out, "Move...on.."
...
THE END. I hope you all enjoyed this. It is quite a bit different with an unexpected ending, but I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for reading. I hope to update my other stories soon. I know Ldy Stoneheart doesn't talk, but I let her. Tada.