Cries In Vain
It was nearing nightfall when the dreaded news had come.
Catelyn had only to watch as her son had read the letter, as his face blanched of all colour and the parchment began to tremble, to know what had passed.
Robb had croaked out an apology, had met her eyes with tears in his own, and she'd taken a deep breath, held out her hand to read it for herself.
What had followed was now a blur to her.
Alone in her tent, there was naught to stop her falling apart; the first teardrop unravelling her like a thread as it ran down her cheek.
She hadn't wanted the men to hear, but the shrieks spilled unbidden from her lips - wails that sounded more beast-like than human, the keens of some tortured creature that pierced the quiet darkness.
She clawed at her face, her hair, her travel-stained gown; wished that she could tear out her heart and banish the pain, for never had she felt such agony - not even the day he had brought home another woman's babe.
That child now was parentless, her own babes without a father.
What would come of her girls, alone in King's Landing? And her boys, her two small boys - how could she bear to tell them?
She could hardly admit it to herself.
She fell to her knees, rocked back and forth while the sobs shook her.
Ned... Oh, Ned...
That name she would never call out again, only whisper to the night. One endless night now that he was gone, without the sunshine he had been to her.
She would never again hold him and feel the comfort of his arms around her, nor know his tender kisses, or the bliss of their love-making.
She wrapped her own arms about herself, but could not pretend it was his embrace.
My sweet Ned...
Gods, how can it be?
She had prayed for him day after day - for her girls too - but the Seven, it seemed, had forsaken her. Perhaps the Old Gods, Ned's Gods, would have listened.
If only Ned himself had listened.
She'd pleaded for him to stay with her, wept even, and still he had gone. She could not have known his fate then, that Robert's honour would cost Ned his life, but she had let him go, when she should have clung tight, disallowed it.
Alas, it is not for a woman to command her Lord husband.
But would he have stayed if I had?
She would never know, could never now ask him - though she heard his voice in her mind, as though he had answered: Ah, Cat, you know I could not.
She shook her head, felt her hands clench into fists.
Damn your duty, Ned! Your place was with me, and our children. Not with Robert.
Why did you have to leave me?
She wept harder then, her throat raw and head pounding, clothing sodden. Her fingernails bit into the soft flesh of her palms, and she squeezed tighter, as though physical suffering could erase the pain of her loss.
What am I to do without you, Ned?
How did everything turn out so wrong?
She'd been happy not so long ago, living contentedly in her Lord husband's castle, watching their children grow. How could those days already be gone?
She had lost her husband, lost her girls, abandoned her little boys; and the only child left to her was leading an army into battle.
It was like a night-terror, one that she would not wake from. And she did not want to wake; she wanted to close her eyes, forget everything, and never wake again.
But I must be strong for Robb - he is all I have at present. I must be strong for my girls, and bring them home again.
She would not fail her children as she had failed her husband.
Forgive me, Ned.
And one day, the Starks would have their revenge.
For a Lannister always pays his debts.