"We cannot allow our daughter to marry Joffrey Baratheon, we simply can't, not now we know what he's like." fretted Cat. She paced the entire length of the solar deep in thought. "Seven knows what would have happened if Jory and Theon hadn't come in time to stop it and save Bran's life."
Ned looked at his wife's anxious face, sharing her concern. How could they gainsay Ned's oldest friend? He was a king. He'd proposed the match between his son and their daughter himself - by royal decree. They were as good as pledged.
"Nothing was official. Not yet-" Ned told her, trying hard to be practical. Personally he couldn't help but think they'd had a lucky escape. Stannis had sent him tales of the boy's budding cruelty and depravity, but it took seeing him at close quarters to determine just how bad he was. Joffrey and that mother of his were staying away from his family if it killed him. He couldn't wait until they left Winterfell and never darkened his door any more.
"You know he'll be angry. He'll think we're snubbing him. After all he came here all the way from King's Landing. He brought his family with him. We should feel honoured to host his Grace-" Cat bit her lip, still fretting over breaking the agreement and potentially displeasing the King and his family.
"You mustn't fret, Cat. Whatever it is we'll deal with it as we always have. We'll do what's best for our girl."
"We'll have to tell him the truth and hope he is the man you think he is. He wouldn't blame us for our concern. I mean - our poor son! He could have been seriously harmed, and who knows what else has been going on?"
Despite their best effort to find out the truth, the witnesses were reluctant to come forward and openly accuse Joffrey. Ned could see his daughter waver, starting to mentally make excuses for him, starting to turn a blind eye to his cruelties. It wouldn't do.
"Will he not simply propose another match? Maybe to some lord less congenial- a Bolton, a Frey or worse?" Ned brooded on how things could be so much worse. It was small comfort, but they could be so much worse.
"Anyone is better than him and those awful Lannisters. Ned, I don't mind admitting to you that they scare me. Lysa told me such stories from King's Landing as to make your hair curl." "The lass will be disappointed." Ned said with a heavy sigh. "Cersei filled her head with all these dreams-that she was to become a princess."
There was a determined gleam in Cat's eyes."Better disappointed than come to some harm."
Ned was still considering the solution for his problem as he headed to the Godswood with his sword and his whetstone. He needed to think logically. Who would be the most suitable and advantageous match for his eldest daughter?
He anticipated many offers for the fair girl's hand, as soon as she became of age. If truth be told, Ned would prefer someone he knew, who would treat his girl right. Someone he already knew. Someone he could trust to treat her with love and respect. But who would be suitable?
Of course I want the lass to be happy but we have to think as strategically as we can. She is fair enough to have any one she so desires and we've had some prosperous years of late. The dowry wouldn't be a problem. The Starks were as good as any high-born as any in the Seven Kingdoms. We have options, but we will have to make a decision soon.
Cat was determined that the match with Joffrey was over, and he didn't blame her. If the young lad had not been Crown Prince of the Realm, he personally would have tanned his hide for what had happened to his son. It was only by the Grace of the Old Gods that Bran was not more seriously hurt and that he had survived the fall from the battlements with broken and shattered limbs. Cat tended to his every need, staying by his side until he recovered from his ordeal. He hadn't wanted to push his son, but he'd had to ask him what had happened that fateful day. He didn't like the ominous silence of the witnesses, not one bit.
"So you see, your Grace. It's not that we are not aware of the great honour you did our family in proposing the marriage." Ned started, wondering how he was going to break the news to the king in a tactful manner.
Robert frowned, putting down his tankard. he smacked his lips in appreciation of the fine dark Northern ale."So what's the matter, Ned? Come on, you're spitting out your words like a nervous Septon."
"I'm afraid we cannot accept your son's suit for our daughter. In the circumstances." Ned's nervousness made him blunt.
The group fell silent for a moment, stunned by his candid statement. "-and you agree with this statement, Lady Catelyn?" Robert turned to his wife.
"It's just that I can't help but be worried for my daughter's welfare." Cat jumped in, backing Ned up.
"Your girl's welfare? You think this is that serious, Cat?" Robert asked. "You think Joff'd raise his hand to Sansa?"
"If Joffrey thinks this is acceptable behaviour and the two aren't even wed yet. Then what's to say he won't get even worse?" Ned added, backing up Cat. "Robert, frankly it worries me. Your Grace I hope you can understand where we are coming from. When we saw Bran injured… Joffrey even admitted to it, though he didn't seem to think he had done anything wrong."
"You want me to speak to the lad? Set him straight? I've told her a thousand times- Cersei spoils the lad. He could have done with a good thrashing or ten, that would have set him right."
Ned wasn't convinced that anything Robert said or did would have an effect on Joffrey. The damage had been done a long time ago.
"What do we suggest we do, your Grace?" Cat asked.
"She's going to have to be married off. That's the safest thing for the lass. If they're wedded and bedded by the time that we return here then the deed is done, there's nothing that can be done." Ned said.
Robert sighed, patting his copious belly. "Tis a shame. I would have been very happy to link our houses, but since you're determined. I'll nay hold it against yer for the love you bore me."
He couldn't help a sigh of relief. It had been an awkward situation, but Robert's acceptance and understanding had made things a lot easier. At least their long friendship had counted for something when it mattered. "Thank you Sire, you have no idea how relieved you are that you understand our predicament." Ned sighed, scarce hiding his relief.
Ned and Robert went walking the next day, still talking about the subject at hand. "Glad to get away from the place to be honest. Cersei was driving me mad with her constant whining. At least you were lucky in yer choice of wife. Mine would drive a septon to drink in a week, I swear it."
"Have you given any thought to my daughter's match. How are we going to find someone at short notice to marry her before Joffrey and the Lannisters demand her hand?"
"Actually, I have."
Ned stared at the king and blinked in surprise. He thought that he would have to remind his friend for the next six months and get referred to one of the Small Council. Be bound up in promises and red tape for the foreseeable future. "Aye, who have you come up with as an alternative, your Grace?"
"He's right here, under I wonder that you didn't think of it yourself."
"Right here?" Now Ned didn't know what he was talking of. His dark brows pulled into a frown.
"The Greyjoy, kills several birds with one stone doesn't it?" said Robert with alarming enthusiasm.
Ned wasn't sure that he had heard this right. "Theon?"
"You haven't got any more Greyjoys hiding in the woodwork, have ye, Ned? Of course I mean Theon!"
Ned thought he was trapped in some surreal dream where up became down for a moment. "My Lord, I-"
"You've kept him for long enough and Balon has behaved himself since the Rebellion. It's time we mended some bridges."
"Are you sure that this is wise?" "There's no need to fret. We drew the kraken's claws when we fought him on his own ground. We have his only son right here, his son and heir. Think Ned! We bind the Greyjoys by marriage and obligation and they give us no more trouble."
Ned was somewhat sceptical that this would work, but he could see that Robert was set on the idea. more than set. It would need a great deal of persuasion to get him to change his mind. "Don't fret, Ned. It's all going to turn out fine. You'll see-"
If only Ned had Robert's optimism about the plan. He wasn't looking forward to telling Cat of the king's new plan. Not one bit.
Cat was troubled by the situation, there was no denying it. Marriage to Theon Greyjoy. Of all the families in the Seven Kingdoms for Robert to propose as an alternative for her daughter she wouldn't have chosen him by any means. She could see the strategic strength in such a union though it was hardly illustrious.
Balon had retreated to his his Isles after the rebellion and had troubled them no more. He'd left his youngest, his heir with them in good faith and though the money for his upbringing was somewhat erratic it did eventually arrive- as long as they didn't think too closely about exactly how it had been acquired. She'd kept up an involved correspondence with Rodrik Harlaw on Theon's progress and upbringing and had offered many times to allow visits from his mother who ever since had been in a bad way.
Cat would have liked to meet her; reassure Lady Alannys that they would care for their son as if he was practically her own, but Rodrick had told her in confidence that she was delicate and the strain of the situation might prove too much for her. Cat felt pity for Lady Greyjoy, deprived of her child for so long. I couldn't imagine being in that situation myself. To lose Robb or Bran in such circumstances. There but for the grace of the Seven go I.
Cat had never been to the Iron Isles. She knew only what she had been told about the Isles. Little more than a bunch of infertile rocks stranded in the middle of the ocean, home to a brutal hard people. How would her sweet biddable daughter fare in such an environment? Would she undergo hardship and privation? They barely had enough fertile land to feed themselves. Would Sansa be forced to live on charity?
We must ensure that she is well-provided for. She is our little girl, and it pains me to think of her struggling and scratching out a living. I must speak to Ned. We must start making arrangements, she thought to herself with a flash of her usual resourcefulness. We can do this.
"Your father wants to see you, Sansa-" Septa Mordane told her as the girls entered the solar to carry on with their embroidery lesson under the watchful eye off their Septa.
Arya lingered at the door, dragging her feet at the prospect of the unwanted lesson. She was going to nag her, but this needed to be dealt with first.
Lord Eddard's orders had been quite clear. "As soon as you see Lady Sansa, tell her to attend me in my office, please." He'd sounded terse and official so Septa Mordane took pains to obey.
Sansa bit her lip in anxiety. What had she done? "Right away?"
The Septa nodded, giving her favourite pupil a commiserating look. "You'd best go now and find out what he wants."
Arya smirked in the corner, enjoying not being the one in trouble for the moment. She wasn't able to get away with it for long, though.
"I see you dawdling, Lady Arya. Don't think that you're going to get away that easily, my girl. You still have that corner to re-do. It took me hours to unpick it. How did you get it in such a snarl?"
Arya scowled but Sansa was too preoccupied to rebuke her, taking her leave of them and heading to Ned's office.
But I haven't done anything. If this is about Joffrey and Bran, I told him everything I know. What could he want with me?
Theon and Sansa looked at each other wondering why Lord Eddard had called them both to his solar. What had they done that they had to be talked to together? He wondered.
Sansa was such a goody-two shoes. Never put a foot out of line, as far as her sister Arya complained to her brothers or that he could see. What could she have got up to, that she'd earned a reprimand from Lord Eddard? She looked ill-at ease standing outside with him, fidgeting with her hair and clothing as she waited to be called in.
Ned poked his head out of the door and noticed them both standing there waiting for his call to enter.
"Would you both like to come in?" he looked solemn and stern as usual, not giving anything away.
Theon could hear the rough loud tone of the King from inside the office and his curiosity was piqued even further. Why would the king want to talk to me and Sansa? D'ye think this is about Joffrey and his exploits?
They both gave each other a look but followed the lord into the solar.