Title: Family comes first
Summary: Edmure Tully holds onto hope.
Disclaimer: I own none of this franchise.
A/N: I suppose this does contain spoilers for those who don't know what's going on with Edmure Tully in the books. Edmure is a bit sad in this fic, so there's that. I guess that would be my only warning, besides expect a lot of feels for Edmure Tully. I hope you all like this fic.
Edmure Tully sat in the corner of the jail cell they'd shoved him into, ever since Jaime Lannister had left, no one had tried to stop those at Casterly Rock from what they wanted to do. No one even tried to help him, but why would they help a fish, hm? That's all he was nowadays. Just a fish with blood on his hands, and nothing to claim as rightfully his. Hoster Tully was right, Edmure thought himself a failure. He had no Cat here to tell him how good he was, how he was a noble and honorable man. Not anymore.
The floppy trout, they still taunt him about that. They mock him and jest, he can still feel the chill of the wine that was splashed on him though it wasn't as harsh when the wine was poured down his throat until he near gagged to death. That was a very long night. He shakes his head, and rubbed his eyes roughly. Stay awake, Edmure. Stay awake, and survive this mad lions' den. Survive for Roslin, for the babe. Survive for Cat.
He tilted his head back, eyes shut. The coolness of the stone walls feels nice, even against his head. His clothes are beginning to become faded, and loose on his body, he's barely eaten. Edmure doesn't know how much longer this will last. How much longer he will last. Everything doesn't hurt anymore, he's too numb to be hurt.
The only thing he cries about lately is all to do with Roslin. He misses his Roslin. His Frey wife. His trout wife, that's what she told him the night when Robb-…When Robb…When Cat…When everything was different, and it would never be as it should be. He hated everything there was about Casterly Rock, that was Lions. Edmure didn't think he'd ever hate something so much.
His lips turned down, a deep frown set on his broken mouth. He could still taste how chapped his lips were, how bloody the inside of his mouth was still even after the last beating. Being a Lannister prisoner, what did he expect? He thought them better than Boltons, but he tells himself perhaps Jaime Lannister and the rest of them don't know. Maybe they shall be merciful in their own way. But then…wasn't Joffery merciful in his own way when Ned Stark came talking?
There's a loud banging noise, and footsteps. His eyes opened slowly, turning his head after a moment. His stomach is tightening up again. Was there another beating-? Would he be killed this time? He straightened his back up immediately, alert as much as he could be. Was it the dungeon master this time? Or was it the sailors they let come in from Lannisport? Which will hurt Edmure Tully until he breaks again? He doesn't even want to think of that, he tries to imagine Roslin's face. To hear Roslin's voice instead but—
His ears perked some when a new sound came, a crying. That wasn't a man or a woman, that…a babe? Why would they bring a babe down here?
"Hello?" Edmure managed to say, his voice cracking.
He saw a man approach, holding something under his arm without much care. There are keys, and a jingling of metal on metal. The man doesn't even look at him as he walked in. Edmure tried to move, only to fall on his side some. His elbows pressed into the ground, ribs still ached and he wasn't sure if he could stand nonetheless walk. He can feel the water that still leaked from the ceiling, the cell was ready to collapse at any moment most like.
But his eyes remained on the guard, and the bundle it had. What was he doing? What was this Lannister man up to? Was this some sick game? Would there be something in the bundle that made him cough up his lungs this time, to spit out blood again…
The man stood only a few steps away, placing something onto the floor. It was the bundle the guard had carried, and the Lannister left the cell. Edmure had to forced himself up, onto his knees at least "Wha-?" His lips parted, eyebrows even narrowed but he can't think of what-
"Your daughter, trout." He looked at the cell door just in time to see it be locked. The man laughed, it was low in his throat, and then walked away like nothing mattered. Edmure quickly looked back at the bundle.
"Daughter?" The words came out of his mouth but he's not sure if he actually spoke them, he isn't quite sure of anything anymore besides the bundle. The crying got louder, and he moved as fast as he could while still on his knees. He nearly collapsed, but his fingers pull the stained blue blanket back.
A babe's face greeted him, a girl who had tears down her face, and her cheeks bright red from all her fussing and crying. He widened his eyes, shaky hands reaching to pick up the child. He pulled his daughter into his arms, holding her close for a moment, his eyes still widened
"S—Shhh. Shhh, it's alright." That's all he can think of for the moment. He looked around, realizing something was amiss. Edmure got to his feet, his legs still felt weak and like jelly but he stumbled to the cell door.
"Where is Roslin?" He calls out to no one, he knows no one is there but there's hope "Please, hello?! Answer me, someone! What has happened to Roslin?" He stumbled back, looking down at the babe in his arms "Shhh, it's alright. Stop crying, it is Papa. See? I am your Papa." This was his daughter…
Roslin had a girl. His girl. Their girl.
"I—I'm going to protect you." Edmure has to nod, to keep himself together. His lips held a faint smile "I am your Papa, shh. Papa's here…"
Her name, she doesn't have a name…
"Cat. My little Cat." He smiles some, kissing his daughter's head. Papa's here, he has to keep reminding himself he has something to fight for even more. To get out of here, to protect his daughter, to protect Roslin.
He has something worth surviving for.
The babe reached up, fingers touching his face, his nose. Edmure could only stare at his daughter in wonderment "Mama's coming." Edmure spoke slowly, still tasting the blood on his lips, in his mouth but he doesn't know what image he looks like for his little daughter. His little fish.
He bites at his lower lip, until it hurts. That wasn't something he was sure of…the pain that was filling his gut. He was holding his daughter, however his wife was no where to be seen. She is alright, she is well, they sent her home or to King's Landing. Roslin is safe. Roslin will be able to see their child soon enough.
"Mama's coming, and we'll be a family, Cat." He wonders if his sister would like that "Catelyn. You'll be named after your aunt, she was a brave woman too just like you will be. Brave and strong, and wiser than most men."
Catelyn Stark would have held her, and made sure she was fed. How was he supposed to feed his own daughter? His sister would have taught him how to hold her properly, which he tried to do his best with. Edmure must make do with the knowledge he had of babes, and hold her close. To make his daughter feel safe in his arms, and whisper sweet words to her to comfort her tears and cries.
His Cat. That's what he use to call his sister, would he call his daughter this too? His little trout. Edmure's lips pressed firmly together for a moment, biting on his tongue as harshly as he could manage to stop his choking sob from coming out.
His Cat didn't need to be afraid of her Papa too.
Edmure's finally able to smile a bit for her, a nod as she stared up at him. The babe had slowly stopped crying, just staring up at him. Both of them had tear stained faces, what a match they were, father and daughter.
His laugh is broken, same as his voice "Do you like that name?" His lips "I bet you do. Your mother might not think that fond of it bu—but Catelyn is a nice name." It's a honorable name. It's a great name. She was great, and so shall be you. He could feel it in his bones. Another Catelyn Tully, what would the world think of that? Westeros would be at her knees perhaps.
"But since your mother isn't here. I'll call you Lyn, hm? Just a bit." He kissed his daughter's forehead, the kiss was kind and gentle. Her fingers still brushed his nose, trying to grasp onto his face "I love you too, my little fish."
He bites his lip for a moment, eventually walking over to the corner of his cell. Edmure sat down, letting his back slide down the wall, his child still in his arms "Shh, Papa's here. Papa's here…Papa's here."
His daughter, he hadn't even expected that there would be a chance—A girl. What a pretty girl she was, what a brave girl to come down here with a scary Lannister man. He has to keep repeating the words until she falls asleep. Edmure can't afford to sleep. Edmure stared down at his daughter, still rocking her gently as he could.
Family. Duty. Honor.
And that's what Edmure believed, that's what Edmure knew. That's how their words went, in that order.
Family comes first.