Through these eyes I see you.
Summary: Catelyn finds Nymeria while still at Riverrun during the war campaign. Mother and daughter find each other … well, kind of …
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She had taken to the same ritual lately: night after night, sitting by the fire with the big wolf on her lap, her hand gently going through its grey fur, her thin fingers caressing each and every fold. She closed her eyes and imagined it was something else between her arms, someone else.
"That's no pet, Cat" her brother would scold her.
"That's a dangerous animal. If you want I can get you a cat, Cat" her uncle would joke.
They didn't understand. None of them did. How could they?
Her son was the only one who never said anything, the only one who understood.
"I'm going to bed" she announced.
The wolf did not need to be told. It followed right behind her through the hallway and up the stairs. It entered her chambers right behind her, its eyes only leaving the woman to give her privacy as she walked into the privy and then changed into her nightclothes.
As soon as the woman climbed into bed, she patted the blanket and the wolf followed suit. She lifted the cover for the wolf to get inside. They did this every night, sleeping side by side sharing the warmth their connected bodies provided, the woman's arms dangling all along the side of the animal, her hand softly playing with its fur.
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The girl was tired. She had been on the run for weeks now, or was it months? She couldn't really tell.
She had seen her father's head roll down the Great Sept of Baelor and she had heard her sister scream and faint, never to see either of them again. She had seen countless peasants killed for nothing. She had even killed herself. She had seen unimaginable horrors that would plague her nightmares for years to come. Yet, at night, it was the only time she felt safe, embraced by the loving arms of a warm force she could not touch.
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"We'll be together soon, sweetling" the sad woman whispered into the ear of the wolf under the cover of the silence of her chambers. The windows were open letting the cool breeze of the Riverlands touch their faces. The moonlight seeped into the darkness of the bedroom, giving her enough light to peer into the eyes of the wolf in her bed, blue eyes meeting yellow eyes.
"I know it. We'll be together soon. … One way or another" she added dejectedly.
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The girl dreaded the day. She was tired of running and hiding, of scraping ruins for a breadcrumb or licking wet leaves to quench her thirst. She hated what she saw. She hated the soldiers and the fighting, and the mess they left behind. She feared them, and feared what they would do to her if they found her. Daylight brought naught but horrors.
Nighttime, on the other hand, brought comfort and peace. In the dark she closed her eyes and she could see. She could feel a soft river breeze on her face and she could see piercing blue eyes that irradiated love and tenderness.
"We'll be together soon, Mother. I know it. We'll be together soon … One way or another."
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The idea came to me the other day. I was lazily lounging on my sofa next to my husband, my arms wrapped around my dog (a wiener named Hercules) while my teenage son was on the other sofa playing videogames and my teenage daughter somewhere upstairs toying with her cellphone. And it came to me that neither of my kids appreciate my hugs anymore. They don't cuddle up to me at night any more (not that I would want them to at this age – hey, I'm no Lysa Tully!). ... But I miss that ;(
… And for some reason my mind turned to Catelyn and how she would have loved to be able to embrace her kids. She had five children to hug but none of them were with her – or the one that was had already passed that stage …