A.N: Have I told you how much I love you all for reading recently? Well I do. Thank you for baring with me while I wrestled this all together. I think we are nearly at the end.

Cat.

Folded in to sections and squeezed neatly together in the suitcase, the pieces of her life seemed suddenly rather small. She had not been sure what to pack in all honesty. All she knew was that Chicago was north and it was cold. It had been while she had been searching through her wardrobe for any clothes that might be suitable that the first cracks of doubt had at last shown themselves. It began with the slow and creeping realisation that she knew so little about the weather up there. Was it cold all the time or just the winters that were bad? Would she need a new coat or would the one she already had do? Her collection of t-shirts and denim shorts seemed woefully inadequate innocently lying there, and she began to worry that she would arrive shivering and severely under-dressed in to that strange new city.

One thought had lead to another, walking her along like a twisting garden path that trailed deeper and deeper in to the thicket. Starting down at the few meager items she had decided would be make the transition up north, she was quickly realising that she had not being paying attention. Somewhere, amid the excitement and thrill of the new, she had not realised how unsure she was feeling. No, maybe that was unfair. The truth was that she had known of, but had chosen to ignore, that cold core of feeling.

The last few days had not passed smoothly, and there had been plenty to distract her. After months of hardly anything but drunken parties and the slow unfurling of the city as it got used to life under Robert, it seemed like the wires had suddenly snapped and let everything run loose. In truth, the fighting had been the start of it, but because she had only heard about it second hand it had never seemed real somehow. When Aerys had fallen, she remembered the streets being ripped apart by fire and gunshots, echoing at every turn. She could recall the smell of gasoline and the roar of fire trucks all hours of the night. The old man had wrestled until the last, leaving the city as violently as he had taken it. But the Greyjoy's had chosen stealth rather than explosions, keeping the hammer blow on neighborhoods she hardly went to. She knew people had died, but she had not given them faces. She had felt guilty when she realised that, but she had had her fill of violence last summer. Things had only finally seemed real when she waited, nervous and unsure, in the bar of Roberts' hotel.

And then the crashing relief when he had returned unharmed, and the rush of feeling from the way she had gripped her hand. She remembered vividly the dream-like way the room had closed in around the two of them when he had told her his plans for Chicago, and her rushed, breathless acceptance; she never thought it would be so easy to leave.

But of course, it wasn't easy. Not at all. Without the bar, and the nerves, and the grip of his hand, she had begun to almost immediately think of all ways in which this was not a good idea. She had buried it deep, under layers of excitement and smiles, but it had been growing and hardening all the while. So much so that now, alone for the first time in days, the simple prospect of having to buy a new coat was enough to floor her. With a deep sigh, she crawled up on to her bed and drew her legs up towards her, nestling in amongst her summer clothes and staring blankly at the wall opposite. She did not know how long she lay there, quietly trying to clear her mind, but the sun was setting by the time she heard the door open downstairs. Drawn by the promise of human contact, she left her strewn clothes and half packed suitcase on her bed and softly made her way down stairs. Her father was sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen with his back to her, so she slipped up behind him, wrapped her arms around his chest and laid her head flat against his back. He smelt like the sea.

'Little Cat.'

His nickname for her made her smile sadly. She wondered how she would cope not hearing it every day. It would not be the same at the end of a phone. She did not let go.

'I thought you'd be out' he said, rubbing her hand with his own. With her face still pressed next to the fabric of his shirt, she could smell the coffee he had brought in with him. She didn't answer his question, only pressed herself closer, eliciting a rough chuckle from him. With care, he unfolded her hands from across his chest and led her out from behind him. Reluctantly, she took a seat next to him but let her head fall back on his shoulder again as she did so.

'Ned will be back by now. I heard everything went smoothly down at the bay.'

She kept her eyes downcast, made uneasy by his mention of Ned. She knew he had been with Robert today, and had worried for him, but not enough to pull her from her funk and that in turn had just added to her uneasiness. She didn't know if seeing him would help her at all right now.

Her father had been surprisingly supportive when she had come to him, still flushed with the thrill of it all, and told him her plans. He had offered her a generous little financial gift to help her set up her new life, and told her knew several favours he could call in to see her settled well. Pleasure had melted in to disappointment soon afterwards, although she had chosen to ignore that along with everything else.

'Am I being an idiot?' she asked quietly. Again that familiar chuckle.

'I knew this was coming' he said soothingly, turning slightly to wrap his arm around her. 'I thought you might have talked to your sister about it before now.'

Cat shook her head slightly. Once, her first instinct would have undoubtedly been to talk to Lysa but that door was closed. She knew that now. She pressed her lips tight together in an effort not to give in to emotion.

Her silence must have moved her father to action. He sat up straight, moving his shoulder out from under her head and causing her sit up too. She still kept her eyes down though, unwilling to look at him quite yet.

'Then talk to me' he said encouragingly. 'Tell me what has my little girl so upset.'

Little girl. Cat smiled wistfully. I will always be his little girl. Even when I have this baby and am a mother myself, he will still look at me like that. But I am not a child anymore. He has always been so protective.

'What will happen to the club?' she asked. It was not the exact question she had wanted to ask but it would do. Her father seemed confused for a moment.

'Edmure will do his bit, don't worry. He might have to step up his game but he's getting more capable every day. Brynden will help too, just as he always has. Things will run smoothly.'

Cat nodded silently. She knew things would run smoothly without her. She just wasn't sure she wanted them to.

'What will I do in Chicago?' she said, more as a thought spoken out loud. 'I don't know that city. I don't know anyone there. My life is here….'

She trailed off, lost in her own head. She had gotten so much from working for her father. So much of her joy had come from being from being good at it.

'The Starks have some operations up there' said her father reassuringly. 'You know that. Rickard was always careful to keep it ticking over while he was down here. Same as the Lannisters have New York. Families like ours always have our fingers in many pies.'

Cat knew, she just didn't like it all that much. She was a Tully. She knew the way the Tully's operated. Her father squeezed gently.

'You, my girl, are the one of the brightest, most capable young women I know. The boy would be a fool not to have you involved in what he's running up there.'

Cat smiled warmly at the compliment. In her heart, she knew that this was all just masking the larger doubt that was clouding her mind.

'And then when he does, I have this child, and I'm living miles away from everyone I know and love…. What happens when it turns out that I really don't like him all that much?'

Only a week ago, that idea would have been almost unthinkable. She had taken a long time to get there but that thunder clap moment in the boardroom, looking at those stone grey eyes, had revealed the truth to her. Or what she thought had been the truth. Her nature was not to make rash decisions, and yet she had agreed to make one of the most ill thought out and strange decisions of her life. She had always known that she and Ned had been thrown together under somewhat strange circumstances. Take away the fight and the adrenaline and the grief and what would be left? Chicago would have none of these things, except maybe the grief. How then would their feelings unfold?

Beside her, her father smiled sadly and rubbed her arm.

'I could lie to you' he said thoughtfully. 'But that has never ended well for me. So what I will say is that you don't know this boy well. You have no reason yet to love him, and nothing holding you together except the baby. I never hid that fact that I would have chosen differently for you, and I still would if I could turn back time. But I can't. Your mother was always such a practical person; a trait I see in you every day. She would have told me to look ahead and think of the future rather than dwelling. So I look around at this city and I see the rot. I see the legacy Aerys left, and I see the way Robert does things, and neither fills me with hope. Rickard was a friend of mine, and I knew him well. I see a lot of him in Ned. So what do all these things tell me? That my daughter deserves to be safe and happy, and I don't think raising a child alone in this city will make you either of those things.'

Cat bit her lip, stung by the honesty and yet comforted by it too. It was nothing she had not thought of herself in the dark corners of her mind. Her father smiled again.

'You will always be my daughter' he said. 'Wherever you are, whoever you marry. You will always be a Tully, and there will be a home for you if ever you need it. But I think this Greyjoy problem was just the tip of the iceberg, the way Robert handles his business, and I am getting older. Jon will take care of Lysa, I have seen to that. And the Starks are a good name, a good family. They can take care of you.'

Cat was less comforted by this, but knew it came from a good place. He had only ever wanted the best for them all. She returned his smile.

'So I take a chance. That's what you're saying?'

Her father laughed and nodded.

'Isn't that we all do, really? How well did I know your mother when I married her, truthfully? Half of it's luck and other half hard work. But I know this; it's not hard work to love you. He will not find it difficult. And the child needs a father Cat. You must remember that. You must try, for it's sake.'

Cat nodded sagely, feeling the calm return to her as her mind became less and less cluttered. Purged at last, the shiver of doubt was being replaced by that simple, easy truth. Her own personal fears where inconsequential when weighed alongside what she owed her child.

She had always done her duty.