A/N: Welcome to a new ASOIAF-fanfiction of mine. I've started writing this in german about 3 years ago, but took a break after the first 6 chapters. Now I'm planning to continue writing it and thought it'd be a nice idea to translate it into english as well.

As always: Please correct me if I make any spelling or grammar mistakes. I'm not a native english speaker, but I try to make my stories sound as good as possible in english.

I hope you enjoy the story :)

276 AL

Catelyn Tully wholeheartedly loved the Riverlands. The torrents that roared day and night and were a cooling for her, Lysa and Petyr on hot summer days. She loved how the birds in the green trees sang their songs, and how sometimes a small breeze blew through her auburn hair.

She loved Riverrun. For almost a year she was even the lady of her house, since her mother had died. And yet Catelyn knew that it would not remain forever. That it might not to stay forever. Because she had her duties as a daughter of a high lord, and one of them was marrying a man of equal birth.

Early on, she had begun to imagine how her life might be.

She imagined a brave knight, who was a lord over large tracts of land. A man, tall and strong, but tender and loving, like her father.

She imagined how her children played in the shadow of their castle, laughing. Girls with the same thick, red hair like hers. And boys, just as brave and honorable as their father.

But each time she imagined her desired home, she saw Riverrun in her mind.

Now, however, her dreams had become reality.

Only a few days ago was it when her lord father had ordered Catelyn to see him, so he could speak with her about her future.

"I have news for you, little cat," he had said and told her about her betrothal to Brandon Stark of Winterfell.

"He is a good man, tall and strong and noble. One day he will be Lord of Winterfell and you his Lady, assuming you want to, of course," Lord Hoster had added. "And? You agree?"

Catelyn had accepted without hesitation. Although she had thought it would be some years later, but her father certainly had his reasons to already promise her to someone.

She did not knew Brandon, but what was said about him was only favorable, and he seemed to her like the man – the Lord – of her dreams. I will be happy, she thought. I will make him happy.

The only thing that worried her was Winterfell. Not that she did not like this place. She had never been there. No, the problem was that it was located in the north, high up in the coldness. Catelyn could not imagine it nearly as nice as Riverrun. Also, she was not sure if she could ever be a Lady of the North.

But she knew she had no choice and it was her duty to try at least.

Petyr was the first Catelyn had told of this news.

They had lain on the riverbank, he leaned against a tree and she with her head on his lap.

Catelyn had joyfully told about Brandon and Winterfell and how she pictured their future, but Petyr had not been very impressed.

"But you don't know him, Cat," he had said, sounding disappointed, as if he had never expected that Catelyn would decide that way.

"But soon," she had replied. "Father says he will be able to visit us in the near future. There are years passing before will be married and father would like us to know each other by then."

She had smiled, but Petyr had seemed unconvinced.

"He's much older than you," he had said.

"Only three years. And Father was several years older than mother and yet they were happy."

Then Petyr had said nothing and Catelyn had been grateful to him. He knew how hard it was for her to talk about her mother.

It was not even a whole year ago since Lady Minisa had died, and the wound was still fresh.

Catelyn could exactly remember everything. Her mother had been pregnant, again. Actually Catelyn thought Edmure would be the last. After all, her mother had not been that young anymore and Edmure had already been quite a surprise for all of them. Until then, Catelyn had believed she would be the heir of Riverrun, but with Edmure it had changed.

And then her mother became pregnant again, with her sixth child. Everyone had been convinced it would go well. With so many children, although the eldest were no longer alive.

But after the birth she had been weak and as Catelyn visited her, she could not hold back any tears. She had been so lifeless, like Catelyn had never been her mother before.

Two days later, when her mother still had fought, Catelyn had gone to her father and had asked whether everything would be fine again. And Lord Hoster – full of hope and sadness at the same time – had answered that everything seemed well and her mother would soon be with them again. But only hours later, all hope was gone.

Of course Edmure could not remember it, and although he had asked for his mother in the first weeks after her death, it had stopped eventually. Edmure was too young to understand such things. Therefore Catelyn would not even talk to him about her betrothal.

So she had gone to Lysa next. Unlike Petyr she had been completely over the moon, as if she would be the lucky one.

All night they had talked about it until they could voice no more sound due to tiredness. And, like many times before, Catelyn had then stayed in her little sister's room.