Quiet, in Winterfell, was a rare and welcome pleasure for Catelyn Stark née Tully, she mused, sitting out in sun with one hand on the swell of her pregnancy.

"Mother!"

But mostly rare.

"Arya bit me!"

"You said I wouldn't."

"I didn't think you would!"

"Well, now you know better."

Her two daughters were still a ways away from her, but the volume of their argument carried; Sansa's voice slightly higher and a bit shrill at the moment, Arya sounding as sullen as ever. They both looked to be covered in dirt. Catelyn sighed, briefly, and wondered how two girls so close in age could be so different. Not that one would be able to tell Arya was a girl just by looking at her.

"You're just like a little boy," Sansa huffed at Arya, who bared her teeth and lunged at her sister. Catelyn imagined she heard her teeth click, but not before it was drowned out by Sansa's shriek. "You little beast!"

"Ha," Arya said, snickering, and Catelyn decided it was time to intervene, as Sansa's face heated precipitously.

"Sansa, Arya, what were you doing?"

Sansa, at least, had the grace to look embarrassed. Arya just looked vaguely wary. "We were just out in the godswood."

"And she bit me."

"I could do it again, too."

"Arya, that is not how a Lady behaves."

"I don't think I'll be a Lady, then. Bran wants to be a knight, I think I'll be a knight, too."

"You can't be a knight. Only men become knights."

"I can be a knight if I want to." Arya stuck out her tongue at her elder sister, who stuck out her tongue back. They stared at each other with narrowed eyes, suspicious. Catelyn shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Arya, but Sansa's right. You can't be a knight, and that means you must behave like a lady. And that means no biting."

"What's this about biting?"

Catelyn breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face her husband. Sansa burst in before she could reply, though.

"Arya bit me, father!" All eyes turned to the youngest girl, who shuffled her feet, and to Catelyn's chagrin, looked ashamed under her father's gaze.

"She asked for it."

"Arya," Ned said, sternly, though Catelyn thought there was a bit of a twinkle in his eye. "You can't go biting people. Then what would we do with the dogs? You'd have taken their job."

"Father," Sansa said, loudly, but Arya laughed.

"Now apologize to your sister, and mind you do it sincerely."

"Sorry for biting you, Sansa," said Arya, and to Catelyn's ears didn't sound sincere at all, but Sansa threw back her shoulders and declaimed stiffly that she forgave her, because Arya was her sister, and Catelyn breathed a sigh of relief. Another crisis averted.

"Is everyone out here?" asked a slightly bewildered voice, from the edge of the courtyard. "I don't see Bran. Where'd he go?"

Catelyn turned to look at her eldest son and frowned to see that Jon Snow by his side again. She didn't like Robb's fondness for his bastard half-brother anymore than she liked Arya's fondness for him, or worse, Eddard's. "Where were you?" She asked, voice sharper than, perhaps, she meant it to be; but she didn't like the way he wandered. While the Wall was much farther north, it was closer than it had been in Riverrun, and that was far too close for her.

"I didn't go that far," Robb said, color rising in his cheeks, and Jon added, in his quiet voice, "Just out exploring a little ways. Not out of sight of the godswood."

"That sounds fine to me," Ned said, firmly, putting an end to Catelyn's attempt at scolding, and smiled, slightly. "Where is Bran?"

"Probably climbing," Arya said, offhandedly. "He's always climbing."

"Climbing what," she and Ned asked sharply, at the same time. Jon and Arya and Robb all glanced at each other and then looked conspicuously in different directions, though Robb flushed and Jon looked uncomfortable. Sansa, however, was already turning in circles.

"There!"

"Sansa," hissed at least two voices. Robb spoke up, suddenly.

"It's fine, he's really good at it, I've watched him before," but Catelyn had spotted her youngest son as well and shot to her feet, staring at the small figure scaling the side of one of the older towers like a little spider.

"Bran!" and she was adamantly proud of how her voice managed to not quite be a shriek. "Get down from there!"

Either he didn't hear her or was ignoring her, and continued to climb. She took a few awkward, waddling steps in the direction of the tower and stopped. "Ned! Do something!" At that moment, however, Sansa yelped, and Arya bolted across the grass in a little brown blur. By the time Catelyn looked back up at the tower, her spider son had vanished. She panicked.

"She bit me again!"

"Sansa, silence! Robb – this is no laughing matter! What do you think you're doing letting your youngest brother go-"

"What about me?"

Catelyn turned and stared at her youngest son, who was grinning in an entirely too innocent manner. A moment later, Arya padded up behind him, also looking suspiciously innocent.

"Brandon Stark, what do you think you were doing climbing-"

"Wasn't me," he said, large eyed. Catelyn thought she heard someone snicker and wheeled on her family, lips thinning.

"Who was that?"

All five of the faces that stared back at her blankly were completely and utterly guileless. Including Eddard. She narrowed her eyes.

"Who was that?"

They glanced at each other, and Eddard said, innocently, "I didn't hear anything."

Sansa broke first, with a nervous little giggle. Then Arya snorted, and then they were all laughing. Loudly. She felt her cheeks redden, and redden, and finally raised her voice and yelled at the top of her lungs, "All of you inside!" The laughter faded into muffled giggles, then silence, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "Is it so much to ask for a quiet afternoon? You – Ned – keep them in line. I'll be here. Resting." She sat down, deliberately. "And anyone who says anything about climbing or biting or anything can clean everyone's dishes tonight."

There was a brief silence, then a sheepish chorus of "yes, mother". Then more silence.

"I'm sorry for bothering you, Mother," Robb said, tentatively, eventually.

"It's all right," said Arya, wisely, "I think it's the baby."

"You're not mother," Sansa accused.

"I think he's going to be a little brother. I like little brothers."

"I hope he's a sister."

"Why would you ever want a sister?"

"Children." Eddard's voice cut through all of them, and there was a moment of hurried scurrying and then silence as the little pack of wolf cubs trailed inside. Catelyn breathed a grateful sigh of relief.

"Thank you."

"Are you feeling all right?" He put his arms around her, kissed her hair, and she relaxed fully. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm all right. Just tired."

"It shouldn't be long now," he said, softly.

"And then I have another little wolf to take care of," she groaned, but with a smile. "Do you have a name?"

"Rickon, I'm thinking," Ned said, with a small smile. "We haven't had a Rickon in a while." Catelyn considered that.

"Rickon sounds good to me. And for a girl?" Ned hesitated.

"Would you mind if …Lyanna?" He asked, quietly. Catelyn didn't quite shiver, forcing herself still.

"Of course I wouldn't mind," she lied, though the thought made her cold. Lyanna's fate…for any of her children…

Ned kissed her forehead, with a little flash of that rare smile she loved so well. "I'd better go in or Arya will have Sansa in fits." Catelyn laughed at that, fondly.

"Yes, go. I'll be here."

As he strode silently away, the quiet settled again and Catelyn breathed a peaceful sigh, letting her eyes drift closed. Of course, as the Stark words reminded her, Winter Is Coming; but for now, the summer itself was beautiful.