Men look at her and is enamoured by the beauty of Catelyn Tully. one fell in love by the strength and courage of Catelyn Stark. One shot.
i. Petyr Baelish
He was not supposed to be here.
Petyr Baelish should be in his own land, back at the Fingers. He should be with his father, helping him with their house.
But, no. Gods forbid. His own father sent him away, to be a ward for Hoster Tully at his castle at Riverrun.
Riverrun.
Petyr thought to himself again and again as he rode through the gates of the grand castle. He is not used to this. Riverrun's castle is far grander than theirs had been.
Riverrun, much like its castle, is a foreign place for him.
Petyr was introduced to Lord and Lady Tully, and then to their children, who was waiting for them in the courtyard. Edmure, the youngest and the heir to Riverrun, quickly took note of his small stature and had already taken to calling him 'Littlefinger' after his homelands. Lysa, the middle child, was smiling at him and he was reminded of the way a maid would smile at a gallant knight. He gave her an easy smile in return. And then there's Catelyn, the first-born daughter.
He was dumbfounded when he was introduced to her. His stomach fluttered nervously yet, at the same time, deliciously as he gazed at the Tully beauty in front of him.
And when she smiled, he knew that was in love with Catelyn Tully.
He was a child still, they all were, no notion yet of what love really is, but he is certain that the elder Tully maid holds his heart in her hands.
They spent their childhood together, swimming by the rivers, playing with kisses, making mud pies and, in his young mind, he is sure that Cat loves him back the way he loves her. Sure, Catelyn pulls away from his kiss much quickly than her sister does, but he is sure that he has proven himself to be a great kisser. He also ate that mud pie that she made, even though he knows that he'll be sick from it, because he wants to impress her.
He can never impress her with a sword or a bow and arrow so he tries to impress her in any way that he can.
A fortnight after her twelfth nameday, her father announced the betrothal of his daughter, Catelyn Tully, to the heir of Winterfell, Brandon Stark. Catelyn herself was smiling widely beside her father, expression of inexplicable joy upon her beautiful face.
He got drunk that night, letting the serving girls fill his cup of wine again and again until he could take no more. In his drunkeness, he found himself standing outside the door of Catelyn's chambers and banging on her door until she opened it.
"Petyr!" She exclaimed as she looked at him, "What are you - "
"Run away with me, Cat," he said, his words slurring, "Run away with me. You don't have to marry that Stark."
She looked at him in a mixture of confusion and concern, "What do you mean? Why will I run away with you?"
He swallowed and took hold of her arms, bringing her closer to him, "Run away with me, Cat," he repeated, "Let's get married somewhere so you don't have to marry that Stark. I love you, Cat. I know you love me too. Run away with me, Cat. Run away with me."
Her face hardened, "You are drunk, Petyr. Go to your chambers and sleep."
He looked stunned for a moment, "Cat.. I love you. I know you love me too," he breathed out.
She pulled away from his grasp and took a step back, "I love you like a brother, Petyr," she said sternly, "but I do not love you more than that and certainly not the way that you presume. I am to wed Brandon Stark because it is my duty to do so and I thank my father for the perfect match that he has made for me," her eyes softened a bit, "Go to sleep, Petyr," she said and shut the door on his face.
And just like that, his heart was shattered into pieces at the hands of Catelyn Tully.
ii. Jamie Lannister
Jaime did not like Lysa Tully.
His father had taken him to Riverrun to discuss the possible betrothal between him and Lysa but he had not taken the time to get to know the younger Tully. Besides, the legendary Blackfish is here. Who cares about possible betrothal?
(He would always belong to Cersei and he knows that.)
He followed Ser Brynden Tully around, asking him about battles and warfare and the knight answered him enthusiastically. Jaime would be knighted soon, would soon be called 'Ser Jamie'. He wants to join the Kingsguard, don the white cloak and protect the King.
(Of course. That would get his father off his back from trying to wed him to some lady.)
On a rare occasion that Lord Hoster Tully have a need for the Blackfish, he decided to wander the godswood alone. It's peaceful here in the godswood, Jaime thought, Peaceful and quiet.
"Taking a stroll, Lord Jaime?"
He almost jumped out of his skin and he turned. There, hidden by the huge tree that he didn't see her when he passed it, was Lady Catelyn, sitting in one of the fallen logs.
He smiled confidently, "Lady Catelyn," he said in acknowledgement, walking closer to where she is seated, "To what do I owe you this pleasure?"
She raised an eyebrow, "I should be the one asking you that, my lord," she replied.
He chuckled and sat down directly next to her, intruding her personal space, "Perhaps I like to 'take a stroll', as you have put it," he looked at her, "What about you, my lady?"
She stared ahead of them, through the trees, "Perhaps I would like some peace and quiet," she responded in a soft voice.
He chuckled again, "Getting tired of your siblings, my lady?"
She turned to look at him, a flash of anger going through her face before she guarded herself again, composing her face into a courteous mask, "No, my lord. I simply want to be alone for a few moments," she said and she turned back to looking at the trees.
He gazed at her profile appreciatively. Lady Catelyn is beautiful; not as beautiful as Cersei, per say, but still beautiful. With her fiery red hair, bright blue eyes, high cheekbones and pink lips, Jaime finds himself liking her.
Such a shame, he thought to himself, If only they have discussed my betrothal with Catelyn Tully, I might've considered.
iii. Brandon Stark
Catelyn Tully is beautiful and likeable, Brandon thinks.
Make no mistake, Brandon's reputation is well known among his bannermen, friends and family; whores, serving girls and even some of the daughters of his father's bannermen have all been graced by his presence for a night in their bedchambers. He is a man who takes his pleasure from whoever offers it. He doesn't like familiarity in his women and he likes the chase, the presentation of a new challenge in his girls.
When his father announced his betrothal to Catelyn Tully, he was tempted to rage. Of course, he's the heir to Winterfell and deserved a much better match than his future bannermen's daughter, his father had said; but the thing is, he cannot see himself settling down with one woman. He is not that kind of man and he knows it. When his father suggested that he make a trip to Riverrun to meet his betrothed, he immediately tried to argue.
"It's too early to meet her, father!" He nearly shouted, even though he knows that his voice can be heard from outside his father's solar.
"It's not 'too early', Brandon," his father said calmly from behind his desk, "Besides, I am only asking you to meet her, try to get to know her; not to marry her at the moment."
"But I still am," he nearly whined.
Rickard gave him a cold glare, "Yes, you still are," he conceded, "You are the future Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. And Lady Catelyn Tully shall be the Lady of Winterfell and your wife. The Tullys are one of the strong houses in the south and, with this marriage, we secure an alliance in one of the great houses in the south. If we ever need their assistance, we can readily count for their help. Have I made myself clear?"
Brandon stormed out of his father's solar. He knows that his father is an ambitious man and the only one who he cannot win an argument with. He already hear talks of betrothing Lyanna with Robert Baratheon. Very ambitious, he mused.
He rode out to Riverrun a fortnight later to meet this Lady Catelyn Tully.
He was welcomed by Lord Hoster Tully himself, shaking his hand and calling him 'Lord Stark'. Brandon remembers his courtesies and bows, calling the older man 'Lord Tully' in turn with a smile. He was then introduced to the members of their households, starting with the Tully children. He was introduced with the heir of Riverrun, the middle child and, finally, his intended.
Lady Catelyn is beautiful, he thinks. She was smiling at him demurely, blue eyes twinkling and her red hair catching in the setting sun. He smiled at her in a way that made other maidens swoon and, much to his satisfaction, made her smile widen a bit.
"My lord," she said and curtseyed.
He took one of her soft hand in his, bringing it closer to his and kissed her knuckles, "My lady," he said.
At least once a year, he would go to Riverrun and visit his intended, though he never ceased his extra-curricular activities with various girls. The last girl had been at Harrenhal: Lady Ashara Dayne from Starfall, the girl with black hair and startingly violet eyes and she had readily given herself to him on their first night there. And then he saw Ned eyeing her and offered to ask her for a dance for his brother.
The event was soured when, on the last day of the tourney, Prince Rhaegar won but rode past his wife, Princess Elia Martell, and crowned his sister, Lyanna, as Queen of Love and Beauty.
On his next visit to Riverrun, a boy of five and ten, who he recognized as Lord Tully's ward, went up to him and challenged him in a duel.
He laughed at that, "Maybe next time, lad, when you are a bit more taller."
The boy in front of him fumed, "I'm not a lad. I am Petyr Baelish."
Oh. Him, Brandon thought to himself. The one who Edmure calls Littlefinger. Brandon turned with a snort, clearly dismissing him but the boy caught up with him and stood in front of him once again.
"I am in love with Cat," the boy said boldly, "And I know about your relationship with other girls. I cannot let that go unpunished and let my Cat to have that kind of unhappiness when you are married," the boy stood up straighter and puffed out his chest proudly, "Let us duel. Whoever wins will marry Cat."
That made Brandon angry, not the accurate accusation of his activities with the girls but this boy laying a claim over what is his. This boy, Littlefinger, dares to claim his bride-to-be from him? How dare he! Sure, he never claimed to love Catelyn, but she is promised to him and she will soon be his.
Brandon's face hardened, "Fine. Be ready," he said shortly and went to the guest chambers assigned to him to get his sword and tying it around his waist. It's not Ice, just some longsword given to him by his father, but it will suffice. On his way out, he ran in to Catelyn, who was rushing to him.
"My lord," she said as she breathed heavily, obviously having run to get to him.
"My lady," he answered with a bow of his head.
"Edmure told me what is about to transpire," she said with no preamble whatsover.
His eyes darkened, "Littlefinger challenged me, my lady. I will not let it go unanswered."
She nodded and took a step closer, grasping his hands in hers, "I know, my lord. And I know that you will not stop whatever I say," she said and looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, "But please, Brandon, spare his life."
He felt confused at first before it made way to rage and he pulled his hands away from hers, taking a step back, "Do you love him?" He demanded.
He actually expected her to cower, to lower her eyes. Instead, she looked at him straight in the eye and said, "I don't love him the way that you think, my lord. I love him like my own brother, that is all. I love him the way I love Edmure, nothing more," she took a step forward, closer to him, "So please, please my lord, for whatever affection you bear for me, please spare Petyr's life."
He looked at her for moment, "All right, Catelyn. For you, I will spare his life," he said solemnly. Suddenly, he was thinking of Ned, how he said his words solemnly, and he chuckled, "Can I have kiss for good luck?"
She blushed brightly, prettily, from her neck up to her cheeks, but giggled and he was, surprisingly, delighted to hear it, "We both know you don't need it, my lord."
He pouted, "Please?"
She smiled and finally relented, standing on her tip toes, brushing her lips over his in a light kiss and, when she moved to pull away, Brandon cupped her face in his hands and deepened the kiss, smothering her surprised squeak with his mouth. She let him kiss her for a while but Brandon's victory was short-lived when he felt her push at his chest, gentle but firm.
She's beautiful, Brandon thought stupidly as he gazed at her; her eyes still hazy from the kiss, her face red, breathing heavily and her lips slightly plumper from his kisses.
She smiled at him, teasing and out of breath, "I believe you said you have a duel."
He chuckled, his own breathing erratic, "That I do, my lady," he replied and offered his arm. They walked to the training yard and saw Littlefinger already there, a sword in his hand and Brandon felt his anger come back. He left Catelyn to stand beside her sister, who was already weeping silently.
He looked at his opponent as he unsheathed his sword, "You're stance is wrong," he said, his voice laced with mockery.
That had been enough for the boy to lunge at him, swinging his wildly sword at Brandon but he easily blocked his blows. He continued to mock him throughout their battle and the boy seems to get more angry and more reckless with his blows and parries. When Brandon finally had enough of this swordsplay, he struck the boy on his stomach with his sword, almost opening it in the process. He heard the ladies' scream, Lysa's the loudest, as the boy went down on his knees, his sword clattering on the ground and his hands clutching his stomach. Blood began to drip and Lysa immediately rushed to the boy's side as Brandon put his sword back in its scabbard.
He felt Catelyn touch his arm and he turned to look at her, "Let's go inside, my lord," she said, pleading evident in her voice. Any other time, he would have stayed, stayed to mock his fallen opponent, stayed to strike his enemy again, but he managed not to. He just smiled at her and let her lead him back inside. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Littlefinger looking at them. Brandon flashed him a smug smirk.
Not even a fortnight later, just a few days away from his wedding, news of Lyanna being kidnapped by Prince Rhaegar reached him.
In his rage, he packed his belongings and his sword, don his mail and almost rode out without informing Lord Tully.
Catelyn was waiting for him by the gates, her hair looking like flames in the setting sun and her eyes glittering like the blue of their rivers. He went down from his horse and grasped her hands in his.
"Wait for me, Catelyn. I will go back for you, after I get my sister from that madman. I promise you I'll come back."
He was surprised to hear that he really meant it, his own promise, how they sounded honest and sincere to him. She smiled and tightened her fingers around his.
iv. Eddard Stark
He is to wed a stranger and he does not know how to feel.
With his brother and father dead, he is now named the Lord of Winterfell. To count on the support of the Riverlands, Jon Arryn had brokered the marriage between Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully.
Robert's rage over the kidnapping of Lyanna was seen by all and heard in volumes: hacking at training dummies and enemies alike with his war hammer, keeping his cup of wine filled to the brim, frequently bellowing and screaming over the abduction of his betrothed and his sorrow drowns out the grief that Ned feels. Robert's rage is plain for everyone to see and Ned's seem to not exist at all to others; his pain appeared to be invisible to others next to Robert's. His father and his brother, gone, his sister, missing.
What about my grief? What about my sorrow?
Empty. That is how he feels. Empty and broken. His sole purpose now is to find Lyanna.
Jon and Robert had told him it's the only way, that they need the men from the Riverlands to help them fight the mad king, to fight the rampant tyranny in the Seven Kingdoms. All he can think of is that he needs to do this; not for anyone or anybody else but for his sister.
They arrive at Riverrun a few days before the wedding and was led to their own guest chambers. The steward told him that Lord Hoster will be waiting in his solar and he promised to follow as soon as he changed out of his travelling clothes. The same steward was waiting for him outside his chambers and he led them to Lord Tully's solar.
Lord Tully sat behind his large desk, food strewn about in it. He was the first one to arrive.
"Lord Stark," Lord Tully greeted.
"Lord Tully."
The older man gestured at one of the seats opposite of the desk, "Have a seat and eat with me. It is time for midday meal anyway."
He sat and took a plate of food, chewing and swallowing the food without really tasting it.
"I called you here so we can talk about your upcoming marriage to my daughter," Lord Hoster spoke and he looked up from his plate.
"I understand the necessity for it, my lord, and I thank you for consenting to it," Ned replied evenly.
Lord Hoster smiled, "Catelyn had said almost the exact same thing when I told her about your marriage," his expression turned wistful as he looked towards the open window and Ned kept his silence, sensing that the older man wanted to say more, "When Minisa died, my little Cat was only nine years. Since then, she became a true lady of this house: going through the accounts, making sure everything runs smoothly, playing a good hostess whenever there is a feast and being a mother and a sister to her siblings, the way her mother used to do. She was a son as well as a daughter to me. Having her here when their mother died had been a relief for me.
"She remained strong for her siblings when I cannot. She held them when they had their nightmares when I am too drowned on my own. Cat made this castle feel like home again even without their mother. She did her duty to her siblings and to this house with the perfect courtsies and smiles."
He sighed and looked back at Ned, "Cat is dutiful, my lord. She will do and support what you ask her too as long as she knows that it's the right thing to do. But make no mistake, she is still a Tully of Riverrun and she will go out of her way to defend herself and those she love when they are threatened."
Ned nodded, setting his plate in the desk, food forgotten, "I understand, my lord," he replied, not knowing what else to say. He gulped down his wine and said, "I have heard that you have a godswood here, Lord Tully. May I excuse myself and see to my devotions?"
"Of course, my lord," with that, he stood up and went out of the older man's solar and he asked the steward outside the door for the way to the godswood.
He was consumed by his thoughts all the way there. From the way that Lord Tully spoke of his first-born, it was obvious that he was fond of Lady Catelyn and held her above others. And from the stories that her own father told him, it was obvious that she had run a castle far longer than he ever did in his life. It was not meant for him, after all: Winterfell, the North, Ice, this marriage. They were all meant for Brandon, not him, not for some second son who was raised far away from his home.
He immediately knelt in front of the heart tree when he got there, clasping his hands in front of him. He prayed to his gods to give him the strength in this war, to grant him the courage in this marriage, to keep Benjen safe at Winterfell, to help him find Lyanna.
He had no notion of how much time had passed but he heard a loud gasp behind him which made him stand up rather quickly and turned, his hand instinctively going to the pommel of his sword. What he saw, however, was a woman in a blue gown, the color of Riverrun, with bright blue eyes and beautiful red hair that reminds him of the leaves of a weirwood tree, a book clutched in her hand. He guessed that she is one of the daughters of Lord Hoster.
"Forgive me, my lady," he spoke, his hand falling to his side, "I did not mean to startle you."
The woman in front of him smiled a little, "You did startle me, my lord, but it is I who should ask for forgiveness. I interrupted your time with your gods and I apologize for it."
He merely nodded and, remembering that he did not yet introduced himself, bowed in front of her, holding out his hand, "I am Eddard Stark, my lady."
She blushed, from her neck up to her cheeks, and Ned thought she looked beautiful, "My lord, I am Catelyn Tully," she said after a few moments of awkward silence and she curtseyed. She did put her free hand in his and his lips lightly brushed her knuckles. She is my betrothed. She is to be my wife and the future Lady of Winterfell.
"I should leave you to your devotions, Lord Stark," she said when he released her hand and she turned to leave.
He didn't know where he found the courage to speak, perhaps the gods had listened to him and granted him his wish for courage, "Please, wait, my lady," he said boldly.
She turned to look at him questioningly, "Do you have need of me, my lord?"
His boldness left him and he was left fumbling for words, wishing once again that he's more eloquent, like Brandon, "No, my lady.. I mean, yes! It's just that.. we are to.. be wed.. in three days.. and I thought.. I thought we could.. get to know each other?" His statement had tapered in the end and came out more like a question rather than a request.
Lady Catelyn blushed again but she smiled nonetheless. That gave him the courage to step closer and hold out his arm. She took it, her long fingers wrapping around the crook of his elbow and he felt her warm palm press against his arm through his shirt.
For the next two days, they tried to acquaint themselves with each other whenever he's not with Robert or Jon or Hoster, planning for the war. Lady Catelyn took him to a tour of the castle, talking about parts of her childhood spent with her siblings. In turn, he talked to her about Winterfell and bits of how he spent his childhood in the Eyrie. They are strangers, still, but they found some sort of comfortability with each other.
On the night of their wedding, his eyes seemed to be drawn at her bright auburn tresses by some unknown force and he thought that they would bring life in the dull white and grey colors of the North.
(And one enamoured by Catelyn Stark)
i. Eddard Stark
Pregnancy seems to fit Cat.
Ned remembers his late lady mother when she was pregnant with his younger siblings. Lady Lyarra used to complain about the added weight; he remembers her clumsy movements until she was just forced to remain abed; he remembers the way she peers over her enlarged stomach to see her toes. He was fighting a war when Catelyn was pregnant with Robb, so he did not really know how she was when she's pregnant and heavy with a child.
When she became pregnant with their second child, he fully expects his lady wife to be the same as his mother.
But, no. She surprises him when she continues to run the castle with grace, the same way she does when she's not with child. She even appears to glow with her pregnancy: her eyes alight with joy and her hair seems to be softer to touch. Everytime he saw her walking about in the castle, running the household despite being heavy with child, he can't help himself from marvelling her strength.
He once asked her if it's alright for her to do such things, when she is nearly bursting with their child, worried that she might overtire herself. He's worried for her, Ned had said, but she smiled and said, "Of course, my lord. I will not harm myself nor your babe. Stop fretting about me. And if I do feel poorly or tired, I will go back to my chambers or see Maester Luwin."
He remembered the night that she told him that she's pregnant. They were in their chambers that night, having just finished making love. It was bitterly cold that night and Cat, already wrapped in numerous furs, had asked him to stay. Despite the fact that he's still sweating and almost couldn't take her overwarm chambers, he cannot deny his lady wife of anything she asked of him.
(Except for Jon Snow's mother.)
So he stayed, her wrapped up body pressed against his side and her head resting upon his chest. His hand absentmindedly ran itself along her red hair and he dropped a kiss at the top of her head. He was nearly dozing when she spoke softly.
"My lord? Are you still awake?"
He smiled ruefully, "Have I not asked you enough to call me Ned?"
She laughed, one of the many sounds she makes that he will never get tired of, "Perhaps old habits really die hard... Ned."
His smile, albeit unconciously, turned more tender, "You have need of me, Cat?"
She pulled herself up on one elbow and her free hand sought out his own, "I would like to confess something, Ned."
He sat up and leaned his back on the headboard, pulling Catelyn with him and forced himself to calm as he imagined various confessions in his mind, "What is it, my lady?"
She pressed his palm against her belly, putting her own on the back of his hand, "I am with child, my lo.. Ned."
His eyes widened, "Truly? I am to be a father again?" He nearly cried, his lips stretching to a wide grin almost on their own volition.
She laughed again and stroked his cheek, "Yes, Ned. You are to be a father again."
He laughed too, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer and pressing his face against her hair.
That was moons ago. Now, the whole Winterfell seemed to itch with anticipation about their new child as much as he is. And yet, there she is, walking in the courtyard as if she's not carrying another life within her. Despite the fact that she obviously can take care of herself, he watches her now more than ever, staying by her side whenever he's not burdened by his duties as a lord.
He walked closer to her and gave her a small smile, holding out his arm, "How are you, my lady?"
She smiled back and took his arm as they began walking towards the direction of the Great Keep, "I am fine, my lord. Though I am feeling rather tired today."
His smile widened, "Well, you do insist on running this castle."
She laughed, "I do like running this castle, however frequent your newest pup likes to kick me," she said with a grin, her hand rubbing circles on her stomach as he chuckled. She placed his hand against her stomach and he felt a kick under his palm.
Once they're inside, he put his arm around her shoulders and rubbed circles on her arm as she leaned against him. They were silent the whole walk to her chambers, a snail pace they have to keep because of her condition but Ned don't mind. Catelyn already did so much walking today, and Ned is a patient man. He opened the door for her and, once inside, he immediately stoked the fire as she sat on her bed and kicked off her shoes.
Once the fire was roaring, he turned back towards the bed and he smiled at the sight of his Cat sleeping on top of the furs, fully clothed. Ned carefully drew the furs from under her and she didn't even stir. He covered her with the furs and he lay down beside her, stroking her hair and staring at her face.
They've been married for three years now, with a son and expecting another child. They were nearly strangers when they were wedded and bedded but she fit in the title of Lady of Winterfell the moment she arrived and demonstrated that she is not some fragile southron lady. Cat deals and runs the castle with a vibrant smile and not a single complaint to be heard and she's an excellent mother to Robb. She lives her life by the words of her House: an amazing wife and mother, a dutiful lady and a woman of honor.
He does not really know when but, along the way, he fell in love with Catelyn Stark.
A/N: that was a long one. hope you enjoy! ciao for now!