Catelyn climbed the stairs and walked down the long hall to Ned's study. The children had finally submitted to sleep, and though she almost felt ready to do the same, if she did not check in on Ned, he would likely spend the entire night in his study.
The door was open and Ned was writing something on a piece of paper next to a large map of Westeros that was spread out over the weirwood table.
"There is only so much you can plan in advance, my love," she reminded him as she entered the room.
He turned and smiled tiredly at her. "I'm trying to remember all my father and Jon Arryn told me about the ironborn."
"Do you remember anything relevant?" She inquired.
"Only that they follow who they want to follow, so they rarely have a predetermined hierarchy. Killing their captains would send them into utter chaos, though they would not back down, even then."
Catelyn crossed to a nearby bookshelf and scanned the tomes. "That is rather important information. As will be much of the information in here." The text she hoped was there was one shelf above the floor.
"How did I not think to look there?" Ned exclaimed when he saw what book she'd pulled out. A History of Naval Warfare in Westeros. It would certainly have a plethora of information about the ironborn.
"Because you don't take any time away from your planning so it becomes harder and harder to think of new ideas." She replied bluntly.
He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair.
She took his hands in hers. "Rest, Ned. You staying up all night planning will do more harm than good."
His eyes softened. "You're right, as always. Would you return here tomorrow to help me prepare?"
She laughed. "My lord, I know little of warfare."
"You are smart and thoughtful. I value your counsel." He said with quiet honestly.
She blushed, but nodded. "I will gladly offer what assistance I can, my lord."
He stared at her sadly for a moment.
"I will miss you." His eyes said even more than his words. They were bright and stormy and they stared at her as though they were trying to capture every detail of her face.
"And I you, Ned." She felt fear rise in her, a fear that she had been trying to hold back until he left. She turned back to the map.
Ned turned to look as well and, perhaps sensing her need to speak of facts instead of feelings, he outlined his route. "It will take us two weeks to ride to the western shore. The fight will likely begin there. With any luck it will end there too, without us having to cross to the islands. We have strong ships, but their longships will make firewood of them if we fight them on the open water. Our best hope is to crush them on land and hope that they do not draw us out onto the water. I cannot see this ending quickly."
She put a hand on his thigh, rubbing it gently, almost absent-mindedly. It began as a comforting gesture, but she soon realized she wanted a different sort of comfort. She moved her hand higher.
He closed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath as her hand found its destination. She unlaced his breeches one-handed.
"Cat." He breathed. His voice was almost sorrowful.
His breath was harsh and his hands gripped the table so hard his knuckles turned white as she stroked his manhood.
Then he reached over and began to stroke her through her dress. Even though she longed for the feel of his rough fingers, there was something exciting about him pleasuring her through her dress, as though his passion was so great any time taken to undress her would be time wasted.
Her own movements grew more erratic. Suddenly, she wanted, more than anything, for him to get so close to his release from just this that he begged her to stop so that he could take her. With that in mind, she lowered her hand to press against the base of his rigid cock and cup his balls.
"Oh gods Cat. Oh please, Cat. Stop." He gasped, head bowed. He was close to the edge, she could tell by his voice. She loved that voice. She left her hand where it was.
"Why?" She wanted him to tell her more.
"I want to feel you. Feel myself inside of you," he growled. She moved her hand up, but did not remove it, not yet.
"Why?" She asked again. Say that I am yours.
"Because I love you." The answer was not the one she had expected. Though they often called each other 'my love' he'd only said it like that twice before, and never before she'd said the same words to him.
She removed her hand and turned to him.
He had regained control of himself, to some extent.
He quickly seized the opportunity and pushed her against a bookshelf, kissing her roughly.
When they broke apart for breath she kissed his ear.
"I love you too." She whispered.
He pressed his body harder against her.
His voice was low and urgent, and rougher than it normally was. "I want to make love to you over and over until I have to leave. I want to run my hands through your beautiful hair. I want to memorize the way that gorgeous blush that spreads down to your teats when we're joined and your face when you find your pleasure."
She shivered in anticipation and pushed down his breeches and smallclothes.
He brought his lips fiercely back to hers as he gathered her skirts in his hands and held them to her hips as he lifted her.
She wrapped a leg around him and pulled him close.
He twined one hand into her hair as the other held her hip. He kissed her lips, her jaw, her neck. She let her head fall back against the books and she closed her eyes.
She reached down blindly and he growled softly as she found what she was searching for. She guided him to her entrance and moaned as he slowly sank into her. He didn't move. She tried to roll her hips against his. He let out a huff of laughter and his eyes glinted with mischief.
"Patience, my lady." He murmured gruffly.
Then she contracted her inner muscles and he groaned at the sensation. She could feel his breath on her shoulder. She felt him shiver.
"Still feeling patient, my lord?" She murmured back.
He drew back and thrust into her hard. She brought his face back to hers and eagerly recaptured his lips. She bit his lip and he groaned. He parted her lips and she responded enthusiastically.
She kissed his rough beard and he ground his hips into hers and she knew she was getting close.
"Yes." She moaned quietly. "Oh, yes. Faster Ned."
"Gods Cat, I love hearing you like this." He gasped.
He moved faster.
A book fell out beside her and she laughed a breathless laugh that seemed to enflame Ned's passion even more. He thrust into her even harder and her laugh turned to a gasp of pleasure as he reached a spot he had not reached before.
The room was spinning.
"Ned. There. Keep going."
It only took two more thrusts before she felt the tension in her release in a burst of feeling that stole her breath and turned her body to stone. Stars burst behind her closed eyes.
She heard someone shout out and realized that Ned had found his release as well.
After a while she felt her body release her. She kissed Ned softly and he ran a hand along the leg that was wrapped around him.
They separated and Ned pulled up and laced her breeches. Cat put her smallclothes back on. She felt as sad as she had just felt euphoric. He was leaving. He might not return.
She had been angry, she realized. That's why she'd wanted him to beg. Because she'd almost begged him to stay, but she knew she couldn't. Now she could only beg the gods to return him to her.
She felt tears running down her face. She hated crying in front of anyone, even Ned. It made her feel weak when she needed to be strong.
Ned put a hand on her arm and she turned to him. He stroked her wet cheek and kissed a spot just next to her mouth, interrupting the path made by her tears. She held him and rested her head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.
"I'm scared too." He said quietly.
He pressed his face into her hair and they held each other for quite some time in the dark study.
