Author's Notes: Ah, hell, it's probably been at least a year since I've written for this fic - or almost anything Catwin related. Which is a shame since I basically created that ship. If inspiration doesn't strike, it doesn't happen. I've just been out of this fandom for so long. But then I came across a gif edit and inspiration hit out of nowhere, and then I remembered that I was supposed to write a second part to this fic so, yup, it happened.

part two: returned

Nearly two years of grey, black, and white passes for Catelyn. She smiles every time her oldest son Robb tells her of the colors that he has begun to see since meeting Jeyne Westerling - and she does not tell him of the pain he might one day feel when those colors are robbed from him should she pass before him. She doesn't know why she doesn't tell him - doesn't understand why her father didn't warn her after her mother passed - but she cannot bring herself to warn him. The smiles feel cold at first when he describes how blue the sky is compared to their similar eyes, but by the time he is telling her how different Arya's grey eyes are compared to the greys that he saw before he knew color, her smiles are warm and true.

Catelyn is determined to be truly happy once all of her children can see color, even if color was robbed from her the second that Ned died.

It's near the two year anniversary of Ned's death when the fundraiser that the Stark family created comes up. Founded to help orphaned children, it has been the pride and joy of the Starks for six generations. Back when they were married, it was up to Ned to put the fundraiser together, although it was always Catelyn who set it up in the end. It turned out that she was good at it and she enjoyed it. The year before last was decent at best. She did what she could, but lost in so many greys, the simple difficulty of being unable to color coordinate had nearly rendered her useless. The year before that, it had only been weeks after Ned's death, and she flittered through the already organized fundraiser like a ghost, barely unable to muster a conversation despite trying to use every last bit of strength she had left in her.

This year, Catelyn was determined for it to be the best. The turnout was faulty, considering the last two years, but she put her heart and soul into it, letting everyone know that the Stark Hope for Children foundation was at the top of its game. The past year she did everything she could to get the name out, perhaps spending more time on the organization than her own job as a partner in her family's law firm, but she didn't care. Her husband and their colors would live on through this foundation if it is the last thing she did.

"You look beautiful, Mum," her oldest daughter Sansa tells her as they walk out onto the floor.

Catelyn smiles, perhaps a touch too wry for the moment. "I hope so. I relied on you for the colors, after all."

Sansa, stunning and getting too old for her mother's sake, blushes to the tips of her roots, grey in Catelyn's eyes, red in her own. The poor girl is still out of sorts after having met her soulmate, who turned out to be a silly and shy boy named Podrick. Catelyn knows that she shouldn't tease her daughter, if only because she feels so guilty about the fact that her soulmate is related to the drunk driver that killed Ned, her father. It's not the boy's fault though. He's absurdly sweet and kind, for a Payne, and doesn't touch alcohol like his life depends on it.

Something catches her daughter's blue eyes (or at least they were blue from what Catelyn remembers, like her own) and Sansa bites her lip. "May I-?"

"Tell Podrick I say hello," Catelyn says with a smile, "and to loosen up. He's always so jittery."

Smiling brightly, Sansa kisses her on the cheek and then scurries away through the crowd. Catelyn watches as her daughter finds Podrick, who is wearing a plain tux, and hugs him. It's enough to cause the boy to blush. He's so good to Sansa, nothing like her ex-boyfriend. Her daughter had the unfortunate happenstance of meeting two boys at the same time, one her soulmate and the other a horrible human being, and didn't realize which one was which until the abuse started. A full year before she found out that the boy who treated her terribly wasn't the one to bring color into her life while the one that hung in the background did… Catelyn knows that feeling all too well. After all, she had thought that it was Brandon that gave her color, not Ned, and she was wrong about it. He took it away upon his death.

"In all honesty, I wasn't expecting this fundraiser to last another year," a deep voice says from behind her.

Catelyn spins around, ready to tell the person off, when she connects with a shock of green eyes. At first, she blinks, not knowing what she should say, but she finds herself drawn to the eyes of the man standing before her. He's tall compared to her, maybe an inch or so taller than Ned was, but his eyes are such a vibrant color compared to Ned's. Whereas his was as grey as Arya's, this man's eyes are a bright green, flecked with gold. She knows those colors deep in her soul, but she hasn't seen them for so long. Her heart aches at the sight of them. Green and gold! How magical, how wonderful, how…

"Who are you?" Catelyn demands, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop herself.

The man blinks, a confused look crossing his own face before he hides it away. Does he see the colors too? Is he as startled as she is? She lost her ability to see colors the moment her love, her soulmate, her Ned died. Why is she seeing them again now? Her heart races in her chest and she has to fight the urge to turn on her heels and run away before he even answers.

With the confused look shuttered away, his lips curl into a sneer. "You don't know who I am? And you proclaim to be a part of one of the elite?"

Catelyn tries not to snarl herself, but only manages to stop herself midway. She has always been excellent at curbing her reactions, ever since her mother passed and she was forced to act as the matriarch of her family at the age of twelve. Nothing quite like being not even a teenager and having to face down people in the export business. She used to be better than this. She's out of the game though and feels raw and unused after almost two years of trying to hide. "Should I?" she counters, even though she damn well should, if he's the source of color suddenly springing back into her life.

"I know you, Catelyn Stark," the man says, holding a hand out to shake, "and you should definitely know me. Tywin Lannister, at your service."

All of the air is sucked out of Catelyn's lungs as color begins to filter back into her eyes. Beyond the green and gold of his eyes, she begins to see just how golden his hair is, despite its thinning at his age, and the gold tie pin on his red and gold striped tie, the fact that his suit is a dark navy blue instead of black like she originally thought upon first glance. Terror seeps into her bones. She never expected to see color again - it died with Ned - and yet she is seeing it now, upon looking at Tywin bloody Lannister of all people, a man that she more than knows by reputation, the richest man in the country. She could honestly laugh if she isn't so shocked.

Catelyn takes his hand to shake. "I didn't think a man of your calibre came to fundraisers like this."

"Call me curious, considering the past few years," Tywin replies, his grip strong and measured.

It's unintentional, but Catelyn has found herself much more prickly than before. "If you're going to mock-"

"I'm not mocking," Tywin interrupts, strengthening his grip on her hand when she moves to pull away. He locks his eyes on hers. She's never found a gaze so mesmerizing. His eyes would be green and gold. "Not many would be able to pull themselves together as you did. It's true that I don't care for fundraisers, but this has been an...unforgettable event."

"Did you think to pull out the checkbook before or after this meeting?" Catelyn questions coolly.

Seeing color is a powerful motivator. After all, how many people would have gotten together if color didn't burst into their life upon meeting one another? Sansa never thought of Podrick in such a way after their meeting, thinking it was Joffrey at first. Catelyn didn't grow to love Ned for almost two years. Robb glanced at Jeyne once and said she was the one. Would he have thought otherwise if seeing color didn't determine it or give him a clue? And what is this clue that Catelyn has been given now upon meeting Tywin and seeing color again for the first time in almost two years?

"Before," Tywin admits, "when I watched your speech on stage."

"You saw me before I saw you," Catelyn says under her breath, barely a whisper. Tywin doesn't smile in response, but she sees the ghost of it, like he has beat her in something. It almost makes her scowl. "You knew."

"I'd forgotten just how much I loved the color red until that moment."

Catelyn blushes - and this time, when she does, there is someone that is able to see just how red her cheeks are. If she saw her reflection, she would be able to see them again. She doesn't know if that makes her want to cry or not. Red was such an important color in her life before. Ned loved the color of her hair. He said it was so vibrant and full of life. It was the color of blood when she gave birth to her children. Red was life. And she is capable of seeing it again because of this man standing before her.

"I didn't think…" Catelyn shakes her head.

Tywin lets go of her hand. The ache that follows the lack of his touch startles her. "That it was possible?" He practically scoffs. Such a cold man. How could he be her second chance of having a soulmate? And yet, she understands that coldness. She recognizes it as the feeling that settled in her bones the year after Ned's death. It's not cold; it's protection. "Life is full of surprises, it seems."

He won't be as warm as Ned, not as kind, not as gentle. But fate has plans for them regardless. Catelyn tilts her head as she looks at him and then, as his green eyes focus on her again, she smiles. "Would you care to dance, Tywin?"

Despite having let go of her just seconds ago, Tywin moves to take her hand again, his other settling on the small of her back. There is an almost predatory smile on his lips, his touch hot even through the cloth of her dress and more than claiming. She is his, his touch seems to say, and he is hers. It's a laughable thought, but she somehow knows that he won't allow anyone else to dance with her tonight, despite the fact that she's the head of the fundraiser and she should be available to dance with anyone. He'll shell out more money before he lets any other man touch her tonight

Catelyn forces her smile to not turn into a smirk as Tywin leads her onto the dance floor, his eyes locked on hers. What an absurdly colorful night.