Cersei Lannister sent her own gifts to Catelyn Stark (now Tudor) son. He was a beautiful thing. Henry paraded him through the streets of London once he was a year old.

News had come from Westeros that King Joffrey was dead, Sansa was gone, Tyrion was blamed for his nephew's dead but escaped and in the process committed one of the worst crimes of all -kinslaying.

Catelyn prayed daily for her daughters. Arya, she knew wherever the gods had taken her that she was alright. Arya knew how to fight, how to fend for herself. She had named her direwolf Nymerya after the fabled queen of legend who led armies against her enemies and won. Arya lived by the motto of you or me. Catelyn was convinced she was fine.

But Sansa.

Her poor sweet daughter Sansa. That girl was sweet and possessed good nature, nothing like Arya. It would be hard for her to survive yet Catelyn had often seen in Sana something that even Arya envied. Sansa whereas Arya saw the future grim and full of despair, did not. And if Sansa wanted something she got it and she was the best pupil her tutors had ever encountered and she knew all about houses, courtiers, and their families. Yet, she couldn't help but feel worried about her.

She put her son back in his crib. She finished nursing him. Unlike the other lords, Ned forbade the use of wet nurses. She wanted all their children nursed by their mother and Ned happily obliged. Theirs was a loving family, amidst all the hardship and coldness of the weather, the Starks were full of love and adoration for one another.

It wasn't the same here. There spies and plots everywhere. Last week the king had executed a man simply by swearing against their savior. Even the Protestants whom Catelyn knew well, had not lifted a finger to defend him. Martin Luther, that German priest from across the narrow sea, preached forgiveness but not to enemies of the faith.

All these Christians, Catelyn thought, were the same.

Robert had wailed when she pulled him from her breast. She had been instrumental in his education. The first year of his life Henry had given her every heart's desire. Palaces, jewels, her tenants loved her and so did the courtiers for giving the king a son.

But it was not enough. She wanted her son by her side but Henry wouldn't have it.

"Queens don't do that." He said the first time she tried to nurse Robert herself. He had his governess, Lady Salisbury, who was also Princess Mary's governess, take him away and give him to his wet nurse.

Catelyn never forgave him for that but years of training and being schooled by her father's septon, maester, and her own septa, taught her how to smile and hide her anger behind kind words and gestures.

Henry being a king and as all kings, vain and self-centered, never suspected it.

But today was different. Today she was bound to make a mistake that would cost her her son. Henry loved his bastard son Henry Fitzroy. And it showed. Catelyn had seen it. He lavished that bastard with titles and palaces as his own daughter.

It made Catelyn Stark's blood boil and even more when Master Cromwell told her that Henry Fitzroy had precedence over her stepdaughter, the Princess Mary.

Catelyn would not allow it. But what could she do? This was a man that unlike Ned, had no problem flaunting his bastard in front of others.

"Sweetheart." She was grateful she had put her son back in his cri when Henry came.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Call me Henry, to you I am Henry in private."

"Henry." Catelyn said. With Ned she would always call him by his given name when in private but in public they would be lord and lady Stark. She did not feel the same warmth when she was around Ned and Henry knew it but he didn't reprimand her as he did her predecessor.

She had given him his heart's desire. Why should he care if she loved him or not?

At the feast celebrating their son's first birthday, he had the audacity to present his bastard. Henry Fitzroy was just an innocent boy of eight but Catelyn hated him already. The fact he was conceived from a whore, a woman who had broken her oath to be loyal to her predecessor, said how much this boy was worth. Nothing.

A bastard conceived from a traitorous wench, that was all Catelyn needed to tell herself to hate him.

It didn't come easy smiling at him. Even he knew it was fake. After the feast when they had all gone back to bed, Henry came to hers and said "I think it's past time we give our Robert a brother."

And that same night another child was conceived. On that same time she heard glorious news, glorious to her, from Westeros.

Cersei had been force to endure a shameful walk, bare naked before every citizen in the capital. The knowledge brought a smile to Cersei's lips. With Margery Tyrell released from the tower and Cersei humbled, there was no way those two would be reconciled. It was only a matter of time before another great house unseat them.

"Mother look, look!" Mary yelled at her stepmother holding a wolf puppy.

Can it be?

"Can I keep it? Can I please, please mother?"

Catelyn told her to give her the pup, Mary did and thrust it into her mother's expecting arms.

Just like Lady. Sansa's direwolf Ned had sacrificed to please Cersei and her son Joffrey. White but instead of green, she had dark grey eyes just like Mary's.

"Can I keep it, please?" She begged her stepmother.

Catelyn nodded and handed the pup back to Mary but made her promise to keep her by her side at all times.

"What happens if father comes? He doesn't like me being around animals. Even my dogs, he took all of them when he wanted to divorce my mother before she ..." She paused. "You know when."

Catelyn nodded. She ran her fingers down her stepdaughter's hair. Perhaps the gods had heard Catelyn's prayers and this was a sign. "Keep her with you and when your father comes you will keep her in the kennel."

"But what if she doesn't like that? What if she gets scared?"

"She won't be. She is a wolf. Wolves are strong just like you."

"And you." Mary added kissing her stepmother's cheek. She was twelve years old and now stood at the same height with her stepmother.

Catelyn watched her leave. That wolf was a sign. She told Robb the night before the wedding. The wolves were sent by the gods to protect them. The gods however were powerless to stop the evil of men, the world was the way it was because of them. The gods, she believed had never abandoned her, and today she had proof. The appearance of this wolf proved the gods were with her and they protected her, not only her line but her beloved stepdaughter as well.