Cat.

Her presence was a discomfort to them. She could see it in the way they avoided her and cleared their throats a little too loudly as she walked past. She would have laughed if she had been feeling cruel. Instead, she decided to leave them to their uneasiness and remain gracefully silent. She slid amongst them with her eyes cast forward and her head held high, to take her seat next to the men who had not long ago looked on her as an equal. Strange how something so natural could be viewed with such distain. It was as if her being pregnant had reminded them of an uncomfortable fact that they had previously forgotten; that she was, in fact, a woman.

I am Hoster Tullys' daughter. I have had a place at this table since I was 16 years old, and you will remember me before this is all over.

There was a time that she had been the only woman there. After her mother died, and Lysa had shown no great inclination towards business matters, there had only been Cat left. A girl in a room of grown men, yet she had never felt as if she should have held her tongue. Her father had always given her room to form her own opinion, and the freedom to express it. When he asked for her input, she never felt as if she were being patronized.

The dynamic had changed a little nowadays. Now she had had to argue for her right to even be there, and she could feel from the iciness that surrounded her that her views would not be welcomed as they once had. Still, she had had enough of being removed simply because her situation caused too many old men to feel awkward. What fragile sensibilities these great and powerful leaders had.

There were other changes stirring also, she noted as she took her seat next to her father and brother. Tywins' daughter, her of the golden hair and unsmiling eyes, had joined them for the first time. Cat had been curious about her ever since her return to Miami, catching only glimpses as she moved elegantly past, like a mirror image in an alternate reality. She seemed lonely. Cat had once entertained the idea that they could have been friends, back in that other life she seemed so fond of thinking about lately. She watched as she took a seat in between her father and Robert, elegantly laying her hand across the arm of the latter and leaning in close to whisper in his ear. She wore a pencil skirt and silk blouse, in shades of cerise and cream, with delicate diamonds on her ears and wrist. Cat looked down at her own attire – faded jeans and a button down check shirt – and for the first time that day felt a pang of insecurity.

The boardroom was full, and the air beginning to become sticky. A waiter dispensed glasses of ice water and Cat sipped hers silently as she eyed the faces around her. Her father was like stone, grave as she had ever seen him and saying nothing. Jon too was quiet, looking less than comfortable in his crisp linen suit. She noticed how his thumb rubbed against the new gold band around his wedding finger and she wondered if it was an unconscious move of unspoken affection or whether the thing was just uncomfortable. Moving around the table, she was met with more and more solemn faces. Stannis and Pycelle, decades apart in age yet looking so similar now under such a grim expressions. Varys too, although Cat had never been able to tell what that man was thinking. All his expressions seemed one in the same – mild surprise at something faintly pleasant. Petyr, she could not even bring herself to look at. She was in no mood for that strange, knowing leer.

And then finally, there was Ned. He sat apart from the rest, at the opposite end of the table, surrounded by no one. He has no one left she reminded herself. He had sent Benjen up north – some old family home in Chicago – presumably to keep him out of harms' way although he would not say for sure. It made her sad to think of him rambling around that old house alone, filled with memories and nothing much else. She kept looking at him until she caught his eye and stole a smile from him. In an instant, all her insecurity melted.

When Robert spoke, they all turned to face him. When he made to stand, he looked taller somehow. That suit sat well on him now.

'Give me good news, someone. Tell me I'm close to finishing off these bastards.'

He made to take a drink from his glass before realising it was only water. One of the waiters hurried forward sheepishly with a bottle of beer and Robert seemed to knock half of it back in one gulp. It was Stannis who answered his brother first.

'They've retreated back to the docklands. The lot of them are holed up behind barbed wire, armed to the teeth and waiting. They know they're on the run.'

'Idiots' muttered Robert, taking another drink. 'The longer this goes on, the bigger the hit to our profits. I want to smash them all. I don't want a single Greyjoy alive by the end of this.'

Tywin spoke this time, placing his finger tips together slowly. His voice was low, and Cat had to strain to hear him. No doubt he had intended it that way.

'I would advise restraint' he said, sitting back in his chair. 'They are isolated, alone, contained. The end is near, and it will be like shooting fish in a barrel. No need to be too heavy handed.'

Cat could see that Robert felt chastised, and was waiting for the whip-like flare of his anger to rise and break over Tywin. But instead, he seemed to swallow whatever impulse might be brewing and simply regarded the other man with a cold, steady gaze. She noticed too Cersei's hand on the back of his thigh. For some reason, it did not seem quite like the supportive gesture it could have been but rather the expert touch of a lion tamer soothing a raging beast. Cat realised then just how deeply Robert was indebted to them. The boy she remembered would not have cowed before anyone, even Tywin Lannister.

'Nevertheless' said Robert carefully, 'I want it done and done quickly. Are we agreed? This is how it ends?'

There was a ripple of agreement throughout the room. Pycelle took his turn next.

'Shall we get down to the business of who and when? I believe that Tywin can provide us with ample men and arms to get the thing finished quickly, if we are all happy…'

'No, this should be a joint effort. The Greyjoys have hit us all. It is not just Lannister businesses that have suffered. We can't give them all the glory.'

Her father broke his silence with a voice calm but hard, and looked Tywin in the eye as he did so. Cat could not help but smile.

'And what losses have the Tully's suffered, exactly?' said another from the darkness of the corner. Cat had not even noticed Jaime, standing in black against the shadows of the room. He came forward in to the light slowly, a lean young man with the same cool smirk as his sister except that his eyes danced along with his smile.

'Forgive me' he continued, addressing the table in general, 'but I think I'm right in saying that not one of your premises took a hit.'

'We were all affected, Lannister. Don't act the fool. You know we all had to pull together to cover the losses it caused us.'

Jaime continued to give his sleek smile. 'I have no argument with you Tully. I'm just calling the facts as I see them.' He spread his hands out with palms upwards, feigning innocence. Cat noticed the little exchange between him and his sister; a flicker of approval.

Robert was still standing, and he brought his fist down hard on the polished wood with a thick crash. The room fell silent.

'God dammit, I don't need you sniping at each other! Stannis will go to the docklands. He has men enough Pycelle before you start flapping so shut your mouth. He'll lead the assault there. Anyone who feels they want to lend muscle is welcome. As for Balon and his kin, I'm going to hit that slimy bastard right in his home and watch him squirm. While Stannis is wrecking the dock, I'll be smashing down that fuckers' front door to cave his skull in.'

Tywins' expression did not change. He raised an eyebrow slowly.

'Is that wise, putting yourself in the firing line? Let me send Jaime. My son would be happy to carry out your justice, wouldn't you Jaime?'

He did not turn when he addressed his son, but continued to regard Robert carefully. Behind him, Jaime shrugged and gave a grin.

'Sure. Why not?'

Cat felt for sure that this would be the tipping point. She could practically see the rage in Roberts face, but he continued to surprise her as he held his voice steady.

'No. I want to do this myself. I never needed someone else to do my dirty work for me, and I've been up in this tower for too long. I need to be back on the streets, where people can see me, hear me, know what I can do. Like it used to be. I want to watch that coward snivel. Me and Ned; just like it used to be.'

All eyes turned to the silent young man at the end of the table, grey eyes hidden as he looked down. He had combed his hair back, making him look a little like his father. He had worn a suit too, although had left the jacket off and the tie was loose at his neck. Small sapphire chips glinted in his cufflinks. Cat felt a terrible lurch in her stomach as she watched him raise his head and look his old friend in the eye. She knew already what he would say, but his words came to her no less painfully.

'If you need me, then I'm there.'

She wanted to stand and shout and tell him to not be in such a hurry to die; to not follow his friend so blindly in to danger. There were so many others who could do it, so many others she didn't care about. She would scream that he was needed, wanted, had to stay alive. But of course, she didn't. And in that moment she knew that she loved him. The stupid grey eyed boy at the end of the table.