NOTE: Everything you recognize belongs to George R. R. Martin, a simply wonderful author who is far better at writing than I am. I own nothing. I simply love his books.
CATELYN III
Not for the first time in the war, and not, she suspected, for the last, the dark wings of the ravens bore dark words to Riverrun. This time, however, had been different. This time, it had been received by cheers.
Maester Vyman had handed the letter to Edmure, as they had broken their fast together in Riverrun's great hall along with the lords of the Riverlands. Catelyn had been eating quietly, still distanced from her brother. The news that had been brought of Lysa had served only to widen the growing rift between them. Edmure had acted as if it was of no importance, but Catelyn had known him since the day he was born. She knew when he was in pain. He had become withdrawn, preferring the company of whores over most, even his close friends. Can I blame him? Catelyn had thought at the time. His father no longer knows him. His sister's army is marching to war against him. His nephew and uncle are finding glory and victory in the west while he has to sit idly by and wait for Tywin Lannister to get here, and all the while I am chipping away his pride little by little, without even meaning to.
But when he had finished the letter, Edmure stood. The hall fell silent. Catelyn had seen Maester Vyman looking directly at her for a moment, before turning and leaving swiftly.
Edmure spoke. His voice was hoarse, his hair unkempt, but she had seen a fire in his eyes. A look of triumph. "My lords and ladies of the Riverlands and the North," he began, and his tone had grown louder with every word. "King's Landing has been sacked by Renly Baratheon."
There had been a stunned silence, before the shouts of joy had erupted from all corners of the room. Catelyn hadn't been able to bear it. She had left moments after for the sept, and had spent what felt like several hours at prayer. Her words to the gods had become simpler, these days. Often, she found herself simply repeating a list of names in a whisper, the occasional tear rolling down her cheeks. "Robb, Bran, Sansa, Rickon, Arya, Edmure, Lysa."
When Edmure found her, she was holding her head in her hands; not weeping outwardly, but very, very tired. He sat down quietly next to her on the bench at the front of the sept, not speaking or reaching out to her, but she knew it was him without even looking. For who else would sit next to me, like this? I do not deserve such a goodhearted brother.
They sat in silence for a while. Eventually, she leaned back in her chair, straightening up and looking directly at him.
"Cat…" he began, and she smelt the wine on his breath. Of course. He must have drunk a dozen toasts to Renly's victory. How could he not?
"Edmure, please, just…" She had tried to sound stronger than she felt, and failed miserably.
"Cat… this is a big change for us. Our strategic position is-"
"I don't CARE about your strategy, Edmure!" She snapped, and the tears began to flow, her face distorting with emotional agony. "Sansa and Arya were in King's Landing. You know that. And now… and now…"
"Renly would never harm the girls," Edmure said quietly. "They're his only hope of a northern alliance."
"A northern alliance?" Catelyn asked, placing her hand on Edmure's chest, her expression wild. "There will be no alliance. Not unless Robb gives up his crown… and he can't… he mustn't… and Renly cannot control every man in the battle… you know what men are like, Edmure! If they found… my sweet Sansa… Arya…" And then she was weeping into his chest and his arm was around her. If he could think of any comfort to give, Edmure did not offer it. He simply held her for a time, until she pushed away from him and wiped the last of her tears from her eyes.
"Cat…" he said, then. "I need you."
"Need me?" She asked, her voice sounding cracked and weak. Her eyes were red and her brow furrowed, and it all gave off the impression that she was much older that she actually was. She felt much older, too.
"Tywin Lannister is three days from here," he said. "He may not have heard, yet, of King's Landing's fall. His daughter and grandchildren are likely dead. Even with… Even with the Vale, the Lannisters cannot hope to continue this war. Robb commands near to thirty thousand men, between the force with Roose Bolton and my… and Father's bannermen. You tell us that Renly has fifty thousand foot alone. The jaws are closing. Lord Tywin may wish to negotiate, when he learns of his grandson's defeat."
"…Negotiate?"
"I want you to come with me. I need you to come with me."
"No. I can't… I'm not… I have failed my son, I cannot…"
"Robb trusts you. You're his mother. He loves you, and you did not fail him. Nor will you."
"Edmure, I can't. I can't." She tried to move away from him, but he reached out and touched her hand. She stopped.
"You can. You can do it. You can be strong for me. Just for a little longer. If this goes well, the war will be over. I have already sent a raven to King Robb in the west, and I expect he will be returning as soon as he can. You could go home, Cat."
Home. Winterfell. Bran and Rickon. She looked at her brother once more, and knew just how sincere he was about this. Not a hint of his usual arrogance and pride could be seen in his Tully blue eyes. She had never seen him like this before.
"Please, Cat," Edmure said, taking her hands in his. "I need you. We are the children of Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun, and together we will leave our home under a banner of peace. We will confront Tywin Lannister face to face, and make him answer for the evils he has committed in our lands, to our families. Together, we shall end the war."
One final tear trickled down her cheek, and then she was hugging him fiercely. Oh, Edmure. I have truly missed you, all these years. "Of course. Of course, I will."
For the first time since she had arrived at Riverrun, the visited their father together. Their farewell was brief but emotional, as neither of them knew if Hoster Tully would still live when they returned. If we return.
They separated to carry out their next tasks. Edmure called the riverlords together once more in the great hall to give the marching orders, while Catelyn visited her young ward.
Devan was reading when she found him, a simple-looking tome that Vyman must have lent to him. He jumped when she entered, and then looked slightly sheepish.
"Lady Stark. I apologise, I-"
"There is no need, Devan," she cut him off quickly. "Now, listen to me closely. I am leaving the castle. My brother Edmure is coming with me, along with his army. We are going to negotiate… with Tywin Lannister." She ignored his obvious surprise and continued. "I do not believe it will come to battle, but I am leaving you here at Riverrun, to be safe. You will be well looked after, I'll see to it myself, and I will return as soon as I can."
"B-but… what if you don't come back? Or…"
"I will be coming back. I swear it. I am not riding to battle."
"No, my lady, but you are riding to war."
There was little else to be said. She reminded him quietly about the danger he had put himself in by bringing Lightbringer from Storm's End, and told him once again to keep it a secret from all. Renly Baratheon is King of Westeros by now, and I am personally putting his relationship with the North in jeopardy.
She went next to her own chambers, to prepare a few things for the journey. It was here she began to have the doubts. Tywin Lannister may not be ready to sue for peace. If the armies of the Vale have truly joined him, his position remains strong… but without Joffrey or Tommen, the Lannister claim to the Iron Throne is at an end. He cannot mean to continue the war, can he? But will he bend the knee to Renly? Or declare independence, as Robb has? She found she had no answers to her own questions, so she pushed all doubt to the back of her mind.
After that, all was prepared. Lord Jason Mallister of Seaguard was the first to depart Riverrun, at the head of the Tully van. Edmure had named Ser Desmond Grell castellan of Riverrun and left him one thousand men to hold the castle. The rest marched with them. Edmure had no intention of facing Tywin Lannister without an army at his back.
It was barely a day of travel before they heard from the outriders that Lord Tywin was near. There had initially been some minor conflict between the outlying soldiers, but the word that the Lord of Riverrun wanted to negotiate with the Lord of Casterly Rock was carried by the men of the rivers to the men of the west. After that, Edmure sent envoys, and Tywin Lannister sent his own in return. Details were worked out. A meeting place decided. A time specified. And, all too soon, there was nothing further to be done except negotiate.
The morning of their third day out of the castle dawned gloomy and grey, with a light drizzle falling gently on their encampment. Catelyn Stark broke her fast on simple bread and dried meat, with water. Edmure had ordered that they only bring minimal supplies, in case Riverrun should come under siege while they were away. How long does he expect us to be away for, she had wondered when she heard this. It was one doubt among many when it came to Edmure's grand plan, and there had been no word from the west. She had little choice but to continue to support him. But what would Robb want me to do?
She left her tent and wandered among the men. There was a definite tension in the air – they knew that if the negotiations went badly, they would likely be faced with open battle. Several bowed respectfully to her as she passed, but more ignored her and continued with their morning tasks of saddling horses, or cleaning armour, or sharpening swords. She saw a heavily guarded stockade, and remembered the prisoners.
There were two; tokens for Edmure to barter with, little more than that. One was Willem Lannister, the other Tion Frey. They were both nephews of Lord Tywin, and both no more than fourteen years old. They were not the most valuable prisoners, though, and everyone knew it. The Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister, remained in his cell at Riverrun. After his attempted escape, Edmure refused to risk bringing him so close to his father. Her brother intended to return Willem and Tion as a symbol of his good intentions towards the Westerlands, but Jaime would be going nowhere. She knew Robb would have thought it wise. But would he think this whole plan wise? What if Joffrey or Tommen still lives? Lord Tywin will never surrender.
She made her way back to her tent to prepare herself.
First, she donned the simple travel gown she had worn to the negotiation between Renly and Stannis. After, she said her prayers. Let this go better than the last. Let us make a peace the Baratheon brothers could not. And then, it was time.
Catelyn mounted her horse, a bay palfrey with a quiet temperament that she appreciated. Some of the horses in her father's stables were overly fond of biting. Although she had been riding for as long as she could remember, it was still far easier to handle steeds who wanted to be handled.
Edmure approached her, atop a great courser trained for war. He was clad finely in shining steel plate, with a dark blue surcoat that bore the arms of House Tully. His shield also displayed the Tully sigil, and his cloak was half red, half blue with a silver trout as the clasp. He had shaved his fierce beard and his auburn hair was neatly brushed. Catelyn had to admit that he looked capable and strong, an opinion she had not truly held until now.
"Lady Stark," he greeted her with a smile.
"Lord Tully," she replied, and couldn't help but smile back.
"Are you ready, Cat?" he asked her, his eyes becoming more serious.
"I am as ready as I ever will be."
"Then, let's do it."
The final leg of the march was short, but the wooded terrain made things more difficult. After what felt like barely an hour, however, Edmure called the halt and ordered lines of defence to be set up. After that, he sent a scout a little further up the beaten track they had recently joined to report on the situation. Catelyn saw them exchange words, and then Edmure rode towards her.
"Are they here?" she asked, keeping her breathing steady.
"They're here," he said, and she caught a hint of apprehension his tone.
They were joined by Marq Piper, and a pair of guards whose names she did not know. Together, they rode in a line along the wooded track. It was surprisingly peaceful, Catelyn found. She could hear the bustle of the camp and the sound of ever flowing river. There was a sharp gust of wind and she looked upwards to see autumnal leaves dancing in the air as they fell from the trees. There were reds, oranges, yellows, browns, all whirling over a backdrop of shadowy branches under the bright grey sky. The smells were of men and horses, but also of herbs, flowers and the fresh fragrance that always seemed to come from the rain itself. Catelyn was momentarily taken aback by the sheer beauty of the world.
And then they crested a ridge where the beaten track fell away down a sparsely wooded slope to the edge of the Red Fork, and she saw the Lannister host lined up across the fields ahead of them.
We cannot win. The sheer number of men struck her hard, and she swayed dangerously in the saddle.
"Yes…" Edmure said. "Right. Sound our arrival, then."
The guardsman she did not know raised a warhorn to his mouth and blew. There were several moments of silence, and then the men of the west answered the call. Catelyn saw a mounted party of five emerging from the front lines.
"There they are," Marq Piper said. Catelyn felt strangely calm, all of a sudden. She had been overwhelmed at first, by the sheer size of Tywin Lannister's army, and it was certainly vast. However, she now saw that it didn't seem to be much larger than the northern force that had marched from Winterfell under Robb. Perhaps we do have a chance.
Edmure spurred his horse onwards, and Catelyn quickly made haste to follow him. She saw them coming closer, slowly and cautiously. She saw them enter the ford in the river which would serve as their meeting place. The man leading them, she saw, was clad entirely in deep crimson armour trimmed with gold. So this is Tywin Lannister, the man who has caused my family so much grief. Let us see what he has to say when he hears of his own family's suffering.
They entered the ford, her horse neighing in protest of having to stand in the cold, running water. She saw that Lord Tywin had also brought two guards with him, and there were two other men. One of them, a tall, slim man with shoulder length copper hair, spoke up.
"Presenting Tywin of the House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport and Warden of the West." At this, Tywin Lannister removed his helmet.
He was shorter than Catelyn had imagined, and appeared to be slightly plump, although it was hard to tell through the armour. He had short blond hair and a closely cropped beard, and his narrow green eyes were fixed on Edmure.
"My name is Ser Addam Marbrand," the first speaker continued. "Heir to Lord Damon Marbrand of Ashemark. This is Leo Lefford, Lord of the Golden Tooth."
There was a short pause, and then Marq Piper responded in kind. "Presenting Ser Edmure Tully, heir to Riverrun," he said with relish. "Here to negotiate on the behalf of King Robb Stark of Winterfell, who some men call the Young Wolf."
"Lord Tywin." Edmure said. "King's Landing has fallen to Renly Baratheon."
Tywin's reply was simple, pragmatic, but Catelyn thought she saw sadness in his eyes as he spoke the words. "I am aware. What of it?"
"Your daughter and grandchildren are dead. The Lannister claim to the Iron Throne is at an end. It is time for you to end this war, before it is too late." Edmure's tone was sincere, imploring.
"And I suppose you have terms for me, do you?" Tywin responded.
"All Lannister soldiers will lay down arms immediately and return to the Westerlands." Edmure began. He had been practicing for this moment all the way from Riverrun, and his confidence showed it. "All castles and towns under Lannister control, including Harrenhal, will be returned to their rightful owners. All prisoners loyal to the King in the North will be released and adequately compensated for their time in captivity. Furthermore, House Lannister will provide House Tully with no less than one million gold dragons, so that we might use them to repair the damage done to the towns and countryside of the Riverlands."
If Tywin Lannister was insulted or outraged by these demands, it did not show. Instead, he answered briefly and almost… uncaringly. "And if we disagree with these terms, Ser Edmure?"
"The war will continue."
"Ser Edmure," said Lord Lefford. "You must see that your terms are unacceptable. You have greatly overstated your position in this war."
"King Robb is in your lands, seizing your castles. How long will it be before the Golden Tooth falls, my lord? Or Ashemark? " Marq Piper joined the flow of the conversation, addressing first Leo Lefford and then Addam Marbrand, who winced slightly. "With Renly behind you and us ahead, how can you hope to win?"
"Our numbers are greater." Tywin Lannister answered.
"I fear I disagree, Lord Tywin." Edmure's reply hinted at barely contained cheer. This meeting was apparently going better than he expected. "I would have expected more of you, if you truly believe that numbers are the only thing that matter here."
This caused Lord Tywin to pause, and his answer made him seem… unhappy. "I was simply stating a fact."
Catelyn shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. What is going on here? Tywin Lannister's behavior seemed strange. He was not at all how she had imagined him - she had expected him to have an air of power and command, but this was far from the case. He seemed indecisive, uncertain. Perhaps the war has taken its toll. Or perhaps something is very wrong here.
"Lord Tywin," Catelyn spoke for the first time. "Would you like to present us with your terms?"
"As you will, Lady Stark," he answered. "House Lannister requires the immediate release of all western prisoners, including Ser Jaime Lannister-" he began, but Edmure cut him off.
"The Kingslayer will never be released, and you are a fool if you thought I would allow it. He will remain a prisoner until the war is over, when he will be put on trial to answer for his crimes."
"And the others?" Tywin asked.
"They will be returned safely if you accept our terms, although we demand that each noble house in the Westerlands supplies us with a child – a second son or daughter of their lord, perhaps, to be taken as wards of King Robb and his bannermen, to ensure the west will never again rise against the north. House Tully will continue to hold your nephew Willem Lannister for this reason."
This seemed to take Lord Tywin aback. He recoiled noticeably on his horse and glanced at Lord Lefford and Ser Addam. He regained his composure quickly, but Catelyn had seen a variety of emotions in his eyes, although the meanings were difficult to understand. Is he worried? Why does he seem worried?
"I ask that you bring the boy Willem before us," Tywin answered after a pause. "So that I might see if he is still alive, and in good health."
Edmure had expected this, Catelyn knew. Well, actually, they had both expected Jaime Lannister to be the one who Tywin would want to see. Something is wrong. Why hasn't he asked about Jaime?
Edmure didn't appear to have noticed, however, as he sent a guardsman riding back up the hill towards his vanguard with instructions to bring Willem Lannister to the meeting.
Meanwhile, Catelyn decided it was time for her to take a more active role in the negotiations. I have to figure out what is going on here.
"You will be comforted to know, Lord Tywin, that your son Ser Jaime is also safe and well," she said first.
"Is he here?" Tywin answered, not nearly as emotionally as Catelyn had thought. There was no anger, no rage. The Lord of Casterly Rock was sullenly blunt. "Where is my son?"
"He remains in our captivity." Edmure said shortly.
An awkward, brooding silence settled over the meeting. Tywin stared at Edmure, and he stared back. Marq Piper glanced impatiently about. Lord Lefford and Ser Addam Marbrand exchanged a few glances. Both seemed on edge, Catelyn noticed.
"Edmure," she said quietly, a hint of warning in her tone. He misunderstood, looking back and seeing the guards approaching with Willem.
The boy looked rough, clad only in brown, roughspun rags covered in dirt. He was shackled at the wrists, and being led on a chain by two men in chainmail with a small silver trout pinned to their dull black surcoats. Catelyn suddenly felt ashamed. Willem Lannister was no more than fourteen years old, and they were treating him like cattle being taken to market. But when he saw Lord Tywin, something changed in the boy. He opened his mouth, and Catelyn heard him form the first sound of a word before he cut himself off, and lowered his head so his expression could not be seen.
"Well, there he is," Edmure was saying, "As you can see. Now, can we get back to the-"
A sound pierced the chilly air, the loud, deep cry of a warhorn. It came from behind them, and one of their guards turned immediately to face the sound. More blasts followed, other horns answering the call. And then, the unmistakable sounds of battle.
"We're under attack!" shouted the guard.
"What is the meaning of this?" Edmure demanded. "We are in peaceful negoti-"
The man who had been calling himself Tywin Lannister ignored this, and shouted loudly. "Release Willem and I will call off the attack!"
"What did you say?" exclaimed Ser Addam.
"But, Ser-" Lord Lefford began, and then stopped abruptly. Edmure was turning scarlet, and his hand had come to rest on his sword hilt. Ser? Catelyn thought. Ser? And then it hit her. It's not Tywin.
"Edmure!" she shouted. "It's not him! It's not Tywin!"
And then, the chaos erupted. Leo Lefford of the Golden Tooth took out a horn of his own, and blew. And, seemingly answering the call, two hundred mounted knights broke off from the main Lannister force, galloping at full speed towards the wide ford in Red Fork where negotiations were fast breaking down. At the head of this attack, Catelyn saw a giant of a man, seven feet tall at least and clad in black armour. The Mountain that Rides. Gregor Clegane.
Ser Addam Marbrand drew his sword seconds too late, and Ser Marq Piper had already shoved his own blade into the neck of Ser Addam's courser. It let out a screech of pain and tumbled backwards, blood spraying into the water. The Tully guardsmen who weren't in charge of Willem Lannister drew their steel against the Lannisters and Leo Lefford, and Catelyn's horse backed away, whinnying noisily. The man who had been calling himself Tywin Lannister began to ride towards the oncoming cavalry charge, waving his arms.
"Stop! No! Wait! My son is-"
Ser Kevan. Catelyn realised. Willem's father.
And then, she watched open-mouthed as Edmure snatched a spear from one of his own guards, spurred his horse forward, and jammed the metal point into Kevan Lannister's back. And then she was moving, a combination of her horse's desire to run away and her own, now limited control over the animal. They were rushing through the water, and she heard a shriek of horror from Willem Lannister as his dying father collapsed in the saddle, but the boy was quickly silenced and Catelyn had barely enough time to see the spray of blood from his throat before she was out of the ford, moving faster and faster up the hill away from the running water, the sound of battle both ahead and behind.
She became aware of men rushing towards her – the sentries Edmure had posted, who had been surveying the negotiations, and then thunderous hooves to her right as Edmure overtook her at a gallop, shouting orders and somebody behind her was blowing a horn.
"Clegane!" Edmure was shouting. "The Mountain is trying to cross!"
They reached the top of the hill, and she saw Edmure's archers taking their places among the trees. She didn't dare look back, not until they were surrounded by infantry.
"Lord Edmure!" Someone was shouting. "The rear is under attack. Two thousand men, or more."
Catelyn was beginning to understand what was happening. Somehow, Tywin Lannister had sent a force across the river elsewhere to attack them from behind. The negotiations were a distraction. To get us into one place, a place they could use. And then, she was being encouraged off her horse by a handful of squires, as Edmure rode this way and that, shouting commands. They guided her through the mass of men to a large oak tree, where she was surrounded by guards. "Don't worry, Lady Stark," someone was saying. "They'll have to go through every other man in the army to get to you."
And then came the waiting. She sat down at the base of the tree, breathless, heart pounding and head in hands. She knew nothing of what was taking place, but she could hear it. Dying men, dying horses, men fighting in the river and in the forests, shouts and horns. The sounds that she had dreamt of since the battle at Storm's End, the sounds Ned had known so well, and now her son Robb and her brother Edmure knew them too. She was safe, or so they kept telling her, in the midst of Edmure's main force. But she could still hear the sounds.
Time seemed to pass slowly, but eventually she found strength to stand again. "What is happening?" She asked a man nearby who wore the arms of House Blackwood.
"Fighting is fierce, Lady Stark. Lord Edmure is holding the ford, but the rear has been badly bloodied by the surprise attack-" And then he cut off, starting eastwards towards the ford. Catelyn couldn't tell why, at first, but then she realised there had been a shift in the cacophony of battle. What it meant, she did not know, but the sounds were changing, growing quieter, sounding as though the battle was moving further away. Is Edmure driving them back?
Answers to these questions came moments later, when a bowman pushed his way through the crowd, shouting with glee. "The Lannisters! The Lannister army on the other side of the Red Fork! They're being attacked from the north!"
The word began to spread, confirmed by more and more footsoldiers who had been holding the ford.
"Where is Edmure?!" Catelyn began to shout, adding her voice to hundreds of others. "Where is Ser Edmure?"
It quickly became clear – Edmure was leading a charge with his best knights across the ford, to join the bulk of the fight. Meanwhile, in Catelyn's grove, the reserve forces nearest to her were starting to cheer.
"The north! The Lannisters are being attacked from the north!"
And suddenly, Catelyn was struck by the true meaning of the words. Who? Who else is in this battle? Renly? Roose Bolton? Or another enemy? She began to shout again. "Who? Who has come? Who fights?" But there was nobody to answer her. And then, the squire was leading her frightened horse back to her, shouting. "The Lannisters are in full retreat! You must come and see, my lady!"
It took her over a minute to mount, and then the over-excited squire began to lead her through the crowd of soldiers. "Make way! Make way for Lady Stark!" It was difficult, but they eventually pushed through the masses and reached the point where the dirt track dropped downwards towards the ford, and she saw the Lannister army, perhaps fifteen thousand men, perhaps more, all fleeing south, scattering, dying. She could not see them all, of course, for her vantage point was not as good as that, but she also saw that another army, appearing to be mostly horse, was pushing them further south. It was like nothing she had ever seen. Corpses lay everywhere, floating in the river and on both banks, and she saw Tully knights in pursuit of the Lannister foot, and there were screams and cheers all around her. I shall go deaf, she thought, unable to think of anything else. There is no doubt about it.
She saw men breaking off from the slaughter, splashing across the ford and galloping towards her. Knights from Riverrun, at first. They were men with faces hidden behind helmets, bearing banners and lances and all manner of weapons. But then, she saw them. There were three. In the centre was Edmure, battered and bloody but laughing at some joke that had just been made, his sword sheathed and his helmet abandoned, blue eyes wild with the thrill of battle. To his left was a man with grey hair, but he appeared immensely strong and tall. He was clad in bronze armour inscribed with hundreds of strange shapes. Runes. Runestone. Royce. Arryn. Lysa.
And then she saw the man on Edmure's right. Apart from his horse, which was wet from crossing the ford, he looked as flawless as he must have on the day he'd left King's Landing, as if no battle had even occurred. He wasn't even armoured, simply wearing a black jacket and trousers with a deep blue trim, and a silver pin in the shape of some kind of bird. He was unarmed, save for a dagger of Valyrian steel with a dragonbone hilt that he held loosely in his left hand. He was short, particularly compared to the man on the left, but handsome, with grey-green eyes, dark hair and a small pointed beard.
"Cat!" he cried by way of greeting. "So good to see you again!"
And her horse began to step back, nervous of the strangers after the day of terror it had been through. It stumbled on a stone, however, and reared backwards. Catelyn Stark's shock as Petyr Baelish rode towards her was so great that she did nothing to prevent herself from tumbling from the saddle. Even as she fell, her brain was trying to figure out what had just happened. Littlefinger?
And then she struck the ground, and knew nothing more.