The redhead Lady.

"No, don't, don't cut my hair, Ned loves my hair" she thought before her death. Death makes us equals, no more differences, no more secrets; death joins us all in a peace ceremony.

She remembered that day, her wedding day. How afraid she was, because of the traditions, the bedding ceremony. She was shy, as any other virgin young girl but she knew that men would try to touch her, to tear her clothes. She was weak, she was a lady. "These stupid traditions should have an end" she thought to herself. She barely knew her future Lord husband, Eddard Stark, and in some hours he would know all the little parts of her body. That made her feels nauseous. "I will be used as a piece of cloth without any value… This is so humiliating…"

First, she would be Brandom Stark's wife. Then he died and she thought she would be free of this curse. But life seemed to be sour with her and put another Stark man in her life: Eddard Stark.

"He is a good man, he is a Stark. Very honored man… A brave warrior…" these were the most common phrases about that unknown man she was about to marry in few hours. She had never seen his face before, she had never met him. If he was young, old, handsome, ugly, strong, weak, she couldn't know. This lack of information was terrible for her.

And, to complete that horror festival, she was going to pass through the bedding ceremony. Maybe she should have accepted Petyr's propose. Maybe she should have ran away and married him against everyone's will. But maybe was a word in her past. Now, she was going to marry the unknown Stark man.

She wore a pale pink dress and her hair now was in the shape of a long flame red braid. She had already snapped her fingers a thousand times and she was not in the temple yet. "Everything is going to be alright. The bedding ceremony is fast, humiliating and disgusting, but fast…" She said to herself.

She came down from her carriage and walked slowly into the big, old and cold temple. She felt the cool wind caressing her cheeks and chest. "People say Winterfell is always cold… Am I going to enjoy it?" She hadn't realized yet that nobody cared about her opinion. Women didn't have opinion, didn't have the right to think. "Damn" she said when she stumbled on a leader. "Be careful, Catelyn. Your future husband wants you alive…" Edmure joked. She glanced at his face so very angrily, and it was much painful than a punch.

She snapped her little finger and watched it, remembering her memories from a distant past. "Oh, Petyr… If you could save me from this hell… If I had accepted. At least I knew you, and you would never hurt me…"

She stopped by the big wooden door, huge and heavy. She closed her eyes tightly to hide a little tear. "Oh, gods…" A cool chill came up inside her belly, and butterflies seemed to be having a fight inside her stomach. Her cheeks were in fire, her hands sweating. All her senses were crazy and her heart was about to explode.

The doors opened and a bright light blinded her vision for some seconds.

(Next chapter will be uploaded tomorrow 29/08)