First time I ever write a chapter from Catelyn's perspective. I hope I caught her character well.
CATELYN I
She kept tying the straws, making it take the shape of a man. This one would represent the Warrior. She used one of the straws she took on the floor to tie other ones, giving arms and legs to the body, and rounding the top to make it look like a head. She kept praying to the Warrior to protect her son from death. She had to pray for him while she made his figurine. That was all she could do. Pray.
She looked at Bran. His eyes wouldn't open. They were shut for two weeks now. She made another prayer to the Warrior to protect him. She put aside the figurine and prayed to the Mother instead. Save my son. Gentle Mother, fond of mercy, save my son. How could the world do that to her? They were taking away her father, and at the same time they wanted to take away her son. He was only ten. He never caused harm to anybody. Tears rolled on her cheeks. She had several handkerchiefs with her, all wet.
Her early life had been marked by tragedy. Her betrothed had been killed along with his father when a king summoned them to the capital. She had loved Brandon. When Petyr defied him in duel for her, she gave her favor to her betrothed instead of giving it to Petyr, even if her friend asked for it. He was only a boy and she asked Brandon to spare him. He did spare Petyr, who left the next day. However, Brandon died on the orders of Aerys Targaryen. She lost him. War was declared and Catelyn had to marry Brandon's brother to maintain the alliance between the Starks and her house. She didn't know Ned at the time. They never met before. He was a ward at the Eyrie. They had less than a day to know each other before the wedding, and the next morning he left to join Robert Baratheon to war, leaving her behind with his son in her belly.
Catelyn still remembered their wedding. It hadn't been the great celebration she hoped for with Brandon. Ned was silent for most of the ceremony. He wasn't evil with her. Quite the opposite, he was very kind, but they barely talked. She tried to enjoy the dance, the music and to talk with the others, but she didn't really succeed. She still grieved Brandon. As for Ned, she hadn't thought about it back then, but he also grieved his brother, and a father above that. He had just become Lord of Winterfell, a charge he never thought he would occupy. Catelyn regretted she didn't think about it at the time. She had only thought about herself, and not about the man she was about to wed and who was just as uncomfortable to marry her as she was to marry him. He had forbidden the bedding ceremony afterwards, for which Catelyn had thanked him. Later, in their bedroom, he said he didn't think it would be appropriate if he broke a man's jaw. It had been the first time she saw him smile. Even more surprising had been his behavior afterwards. He didn't urge her to disrobe. He said that he would understand if she wanted them to wait if she still loved Brandon, which would have been normal. Catelyn had been surprised by his disguised suggestion to delay the consummation of their marriage. However, she knew what her duty was and she almost ordered him to bed her, for the sake of the ties between their families. That had been their first quarrel. It wouldn't be the last.
She needed time to love Ned. Things were complicated at the beginning, with that bastard son of his he brought back from the war. The boy and his midwife were already installed at Winterfell when she arrived with Robb. He looked more like Ned than all the sons she gave him. With time, they built their love, for them two, and for their children. Ned was very kind with her, and patient, even building a small sept for her so she could worship the Seven, though there were things she asked he never conceded, like sending his bastard son away.
Still, they managed to be happy. She had lost Brandon, but she found happiness with his brother, even if she never entirely forgot the man she would have married without the Mad King's folly. But now, everything was about to collapse again. Her husband had left with their two daughters to the capital, to replace Jon Arryn who was assassinated. Her eldest son was now acting Lord of Winterfell at the age of sixteen. He wasn't ready for that. Worse, her son she named after her first betrothed now laid somewhere between life and death.
She hadn't left his bedside since his fall. He shouldn't have climbed. She told him so often, but he never listened. She should have forbidden him for real. She should have been more strict. She wasn't, and now he could die, and that was all her fault. She prayed to the Father.
The door opened to let enter a slender young woman with green eyes and brown curly hair. Margaery Lannister wore a deep purple gown. She changed her dress every day.
"I thought you would like something to eat, Catelyn," she said.
She nodded. The Lady of Casterly Rock brought the tray with porridge, some bread and water, and a few fruits. Catelyn didn't think these ones grew in the glass garden. She had come to visit Catelyn and Bran every day since he fell and she always stayed for some time. She went to the windows and opened them. Light came into the room, so bright that it blinded Catelyn for a time.
"What time is it?" Catelyn asked.
"We are early in the morning. You didn't sleep last night either?"
"No."
She had lost all notions of time. She hadn't left this room for the last fortnight and the shutters of the windows were closed most of the time. Only her meals could help her remember the hour, and she didn't always eat them. Sometimes she didn't even notice them. She realized something.
"You shouldn't have brought it yourself. A servant would have brought my breakfast," Catelyn said. It wasn't the duty of a lady to bring meals.
Margaery Tyrell smiled. "I was coming to visit you anyway. I saw the servant bringing you this and I told her I could do it."
"Thank you," said Catelyn.
The Lady of Casterly Rock had been of great support lately, not only with her visits but also with everything she did that Catelyn would do otherwise. Bran needed her, so she asked Margaery if she could take care of some of her own duties as Lady of Winterfell. The young woman had kindly accepted and Catelyn was glad of it. She didn't want Robb to be overloaded with work and she needed time with Bran. The Lady of Casterly Rock also informed her about Robb and Rickon when she visited. Catelyn never thought she would appreciate so much the presence of a Lannister in Winterfell, especially after Lysa's letter. Margaery was staying here while her husband visited the Wall and she looked well disposed to help for the time she would spend here. Catelyn doubted she had anything to see with Jon Arryn's death. She was still almost a girl and was forced to marry the Imp. Anyway, she couldn't do any harm to Ned while she stayed in the North.
"You should try to eat something, Catelyn. Maybe you don't know it, but you look pale and sick."
They had begun to call themselves by their first name two days ago, after Lady Margaery asked Catelyn to call her this way, and Catelyn had allowed the Lady of Casterly Rock to call her without her title in return. She took a piece of bread and slowly chewed on it, unable to swallow it.
"You should leave this room. Go outside, even for a moment," the young woman suggested.
Catelyn shook her head. "I can't. Bran needs me. He could die any moment."
"You've been there for two weeks and he didn't die."
"But he could die any time."
"Your son will not die, Catelyn. I understand what you're going through. I know what it is…"
"No, you don't."
"I do. I know you fear to lose…"
"No, you don't know what it is. You can't. You don't have children. You're not a mother."
Catelyn regretted her words almost immediately. Margaery Tyrell looked at her blankly.
"Very well. I'll leave you alone."
She did what she said. Catelyn almost sighed. She would apologize to her later. She shouldn't have been so harsh. The young woman was only trying to help. Everyone had given their sympathies and their hopes for Bran's recovery after the accident happened. Robert gave his own through Ned. The queen herself came to her in person. Even Lord Tyrion, Margaery's husband, who Catelyn didn't like, came to offer his sympathies to her. He was very kind and gentle, all the opposite of who he was in the previous days. She almost forgave him all his misbehavior for that.
The visit that had been the most painful was the one Jon Snow paid to Bran before he left for the Wall. He had talked to Bran as if they were brothers, which they were, and kissed him on the forehead. Catelyn had only wanted him to leave. She wanted him out of her sight. She couldn't support to see the boy who had so much of Ned in him stand next to her son and tell him he could visit him at the Wall one day. Bran shouldn't have fallen. Jon should have. It was unfair he was well when her son wasn't. She knew it was unjust to think so. The boy had done nothing wrong, but she couldn't help it. Each time she looked at him, it reminded her that Ned had loved another woman, and that he loved her enough to have her son live with theirs. Catelyn could have forgiven Ned for his infidelities, especially at the beginning of their marriage, when they were separated and that they barely knew each other, but she couldn't support that this boy who wasn't her son grew up with her children as their brother.
Catelyn had been favorable to it when both Lord Tyrion and Lady Margaery brought forward the idea of taking the boy as a member of their household. He could enter the service of another lord. That would have brought him far away from Winterfell, at last. She would certainly never see him again. She even thought it could really give him a chance to do something with his life. As long as he stayed in Winterfell, Catelyn wouldn't allow him to take a position or a role, not in the North or in the service of her husband or Robb. She didn't want him here, but she had no objection to him being happy somewhere else. However, Ned refused the offer that the Lannisters put forward, saying he wouldn't leave any of his children in the care of the Lannisters. Catelyn had to admit she found it odd that Lord Tyrion and Margaery took an interest in the bastard. Maybe it was for his skills. She saw him defeat Robb far too often at sword fight. He was better with a sword than her son, and there were many times when he excelled in studies over Robb. Anyway, the boy left for the Wall to join the Night's Watch instead. After reflection, it was probably for the better. If Jon Snow went to Casterly Rock and proved himself, which was quite possible, he could eventually obtain a knighthood, maybe a lordship. The Lannisters were known for their cunning and she had no difficulty imagining Tyrion Lannister trying to turn him against her children. He could try to use him against the Starks and divide the North by convincing some lords to choose Jon Snow as their liege lord. And even if he didn't do it with the boy, the Imp could try the same with his children. By sending him to the Wall, they prevented Jon Snow from fathering any children who could eventually contest the positions of Catelyn's children or grandchildren.
Ever since the king left with his retinue, her husband and her daughters last week, Margaery had been the only one to pay her daily visits. Luwin came each day, but it was to examine Bran and see if he was recovering. The young woman spoke to Bran sometimes, even if he couldn't hear her. Catelyn had noticed how Margaery had been close to Bran and Rickon since she arrived. She also spent a lot of time with Sansa before she left. Sansa always dreamed to become a princess or a great lady, and Margaery was everything she dreamed about. Of course, she also admired a lot the queen and the princess, but she spent much more time with Margaery. The Lady of Casterly Rock was easy to approach and to speak with. She visited the Winter Town every day and spoke to the smallfolk and the highborn people alike. Catelyn had never seen someone behaving so easily with everyone from every horizon and every birth. Still, she had seen the young lady spend a lot of time with Bran and Rickon, even playing with them. Catelyn thought about Margaery's reaction when she told her she couldn't understand what she felt about Bran. She really ought to apologize. Catelyn didn't know how she would feel if she may never have any children.
She returned her attention to Bran. Her thoughts had drifted away. She resumed her prayers and kept working on the figurines of the Seven. The day went on and no one came, except for the servants who collected her trays of food, often barely touched, and who brought them to her. She was glad to be alone with her son if this could be his last hours. She waited anxiously, expecting him to die any time. She remembered sitting through the night with another child who got the pox, years ago. Was that her punishment for not holding her promise? Would the gods take away one of her sons because she couldn't love him? Was this only a coincidence that Bran fell right when he was about to leave? Did she miss her last chance when she told him to leave? Was Bran going to die by her fault, because she couldn't love a motherless child?
The day went on, and she kept praying and wondering if that would be the cost of her mistakes. She begged the gods to not take Bran away from her. At one moment, she got so desperate that she made another promise. This time, she thought she could hold that one. Let him have a life. A real life. Let him go somewhere he can prove he is someone, where he can be happy, where he can find a purpose, where he can marry, where he can start a family of his own. Let him be with someone good, someone he loves. Give him a life. I will love his grandchildren. I will be a grandmother to them. I swear I will. Please don't punish Bran for what I did. He's only a child. My little boy. Please, let him live.
The light of the day increased, then lowered and faded until only darkness was all that was left. When it began to be too dark, Margaery came back. She closed the shutters and lit the candles.
"Rickon misses you, you know. He spends his days asking where you are, and where his brother is," she said while giving some light to the room.
Catelyn ignored it. Rickon wasn't at risk of dying. Bran was. "I'm sorry for what I said before." She truly was.
"That's all right. I know what it is, to see someone you love like that and to not know if he will live. To know that there is nothing you can do. To feel so powerless. You're not the only one who faced this, who could lose people they loved."
Catelyn hadn't almost lost people she loved. She had lost people she loved, and she was about to lose another one, maybe two, or more, if Lysa's warning was founded. Ned should never have gone to King's Landing. He should have stayed here, with her.
"Who did you lose?" Catelyn asked.
Margaery Tyrell was done with lighting the candles. "No one. But it wasn't far."
"Who?"
"Willas, my cousin." She came to sit on the bed next to Bran. "When he was fourteen, he rode in a tourney, even if he wasn't ready. He fell from his horse, and the horse fell on him. He was unconscious for days afterwards. I stayed by his side for five long days and five long nights. I was afraid he could die, even if Master Lomys said he wouldn't. I was only eight."
"And he lived?" Catelyn.
"He lived, but he was never the same again. Now he can only walk with a stick." She looked at Bran, an expression of extreme sadness on her face. "I don't have children, but that doesn't mean I can't imagine what it is to see your son lying there, and all you can do is wait for him to wake up, or wonder if he will ever wake up. People might tell you that he will live, but until you see his eyes open again, you can't do anything else but wait."
Catelyn listened to her. She returned to the making of the figurine. There was nothing to say. They understood each other. A very long time passed, and nothing was said. Catelyn almost jumped when the Lady of Casterly Rock rose from Bran's bed where she remained sitting all this time and came at her son's side. She leaned over him and whispered in his ear. Catelyn could hear.
"Wake up soon, Bran. Your mother needs you."
She kissed him on the forehead very tenderly and left after a nod meaning sympathy towards Catelyn. Hence the Lady of Winterfell found herself alone with her son, once more. She almost missed the presence of Margaery. Luwin and Robb had tried to make her leave Bran. Margaery had never tried, not until this morning, and she was the only one who seemed to understand what Catelyn somehow went through. She wasn't a mother, but she understood all the same.
Time kept going on and Catelyn still didn't move from her seat. At one moment, the door slowly opened. Maester Luwin came inside. He made a slight bow and came to take Bran's temperature on his forehead.
"It's time we reviewed the accounts, my lady." He crossed his hands before him. "You'll want to know how much this royal visit has cost us."
"Talk to Poole about it," she said, close to tears.
"Poole went south with Lord Stark, my lady. We need a new steward, and there are several other appointments that require our immediate attention…"
"I don't care about appointments!" How could he talk about accounts and stewards when Bran could die any moment?
"I'll make the appointments." Catelyn realized that Robb was standing in the door's threshold. "We'll talk about it first thing in the morning."
His voice sounded like Ned's. "Very good, my lord," Luwin replied. "My lady."
Robb went to the windows as the maester left and opened the shutters Margaery closed not long ago. They shouldn't open the windows. Bran needed to stay warm. She heard the wolves howling in the night. She hated them.
"When was the last time you left this room?" he asked.
"I have to take care of him."
"He's not going to die, Mother. Maester Luwin says the most dangerous time has passed."
"What if he's wrong? Bran needs me."
"Rickon needs you. He's six. He doesn't know what is happening. The only reason why he doesn't follow me all day crying is because Lady Margaery keeps him occupied, and at the same time she's performing your duties as Lady of Winterfell, the duties you should be performing. You didn't even come to the gate when Father and the girls went south."
"I said my farewells to them here and watched them ride from the window."
"Lady Margaery said goodbye to her husband in the courtyard, at the gate. She even kissed him, in front of everyone else. The Imp! Are you telling me you couldn't be there for Father, Arya and Sansa when she could be there for a dwarf?"
"Margaery doesn't have a son lingering between life and death."
"He's not going to die, Mother. Rickon needs you. I need you, too. I'm trying, but I can't… I can't do everything by myself."
"Close the windows! I can't stand it! Please make them stop!" She shouted. She couldn't suffer that anymore. They had to leave her with Bran. She would kill these wolves to bring her son back to her.
She looked at his pale hand, so small, so vulnerable. They couldn't hold him to the walls of that tower.
"Fire!" Catelyn looked up at her son. "You stay here. I'll come back."
He ran out. Catelyn walked to the window to see what it was. If there was fire, Bran could be in danger. She was relieved to see that the library tower was in fire. The tower was across the bailey, which meant fire wouldn't reach this room. Bran was safe.
When she turned away from the window, a man was in the room. He had a hood over his head, and was slim. She didn't know him. She never saw him before.
"You're not supposed to be here. No one is supposed to be here. It's a mercy. He's dead already." He produced a dagger from his belt.
"No!"
Before Catelyn realized it, she ran to the man to stop him, but he pushed her on the bed, then pulled her to him with the dagger near her throat. Catelyn managed to seize the blade before he cut her throat. She felt blood running all over her hands as they both struggled. She bit his hand that held the knife and felt blood between her teeth. He pushed her on the floor as he cried out. Then he looked at Bran. Catelyn's hands were painful and covered with blood. She wasn't sure if it was her blood or the man's blood. He walked to Bran. Catelyn wanted to do something, but before she could, a shadow came out of nowhere and jumped on the assassin. The man screamed as it planted its fangs into his throat, tearing pieces of flesh away from it. The man kept screaming and crying, then he gurgled, and no more sound could be heard apart from the beast devouring his throat.
The beast left the man as he laid dead and nestled next to Bran. The direwolf. It saved her son. She looked at the throat of the assailant. It was wide open. She looked at the wolf, who looked inoffensive like a pup while just a moment ago, he killed a man. Catelyn started to laugh hysterically. She couldn't refrain it, nor control it. She remained there, on the floor, laughing without end, until she couldn't remember anything else.
When she woke up, the world was in a blur. Her mind was cloudy and she felt as if she laid on tons of feather and cotton. It was all grey around her. As her vision turned better, she distinguished a window on the right. The sky outside was of a grey paler than the walls. They had to be in the middle of the day. She looked before her and saw fire in the hearth.
"Catelyn."
The Lady of Winterfell turned her head on her left to see green eyes on a round face framed by curly brown hair. This woman was familiar to her, but she couldn't put a name on the face.
"Who are you?" she asked.
The young woman smiled sweetly. "Take it easy. It's normal you're confused. You've slept through the last four days."
"Four days?" said Catelyn, bewildered.
"Yes. You gave us quite a fright. You weren't yourself when we found you. Master Luwin gave you Milk of the poppy so you could sleep peacefully, and to give time to your hands to heal."
"My hands?"
She looked at them for the first time, and was shocked to see the thick bandages that were wrapped around. What happened? Catelyn looked around, and just at this time the realization came to her that she was in her room. Her lord husband shouldn't be far… Where was Ned? She remembered he was gone with Robert. He had left a few days after… Bran. The fall. The assassin. The direwolf.
"Bran." The word came out, weak, low. "Bran." She repeated with more force.
She shouldn't be here. She should be with him. She began to sit in her bed, but before she could a great headache took her and she fell back.
"Don't overstrain yourself. You'll be groggy for another few days. Your maester says the blade reached the nerves. It cut through your bones. I may not have studied medicine like my husband or my cousin, but I know enough to say that you must rest. You'll be lucky if you get out of it without permanent damage."
Catelyn's breath was hoarse. "My son needs me."
"Your son needs a mother, not a dead body, and that's what you'll become if you try to go to him with your injuries. If you want Bran to have a mother when he wakes up, then rest and make sure your wounds heal."
The Lady of Casterly Rock was standing tall and spoke with authority. She had no right to speak to Catelyn in this way. That wasn't her castle. However, Catelyn didn't have the force to fight her, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stand in her state. Lady Margaery went to the door and said something to a person outside. Catelyn couldn't hear it.
"Now rest, and don't try go back to Bran. He's well," she told Catelyn.
"How is he?"
"Still asleep. You don't have to worry about him. There are two guards before his room all the time and Maester Luwin says he's getting better."
"I need to see him."
"I'm telling you he's getting better."
"I need to see him. He's my son."
"So is Robb, and so is Rickon. Robb is struggling to rule Winterfell on his own, and Rickon spends his days asking where you and Bran are. Have you ever wondered what it was for them, to see their mother shut herself behind closed doors and not speak to them anymore?"
"Bran…"
"Stop talking about Bran for a minute. He's safe. You were right, I'm not a mother. I don't have children, but I know certain things all the same. And I know that a mother who abandons her four other children because she worries about the fifth, when she knows he will not die, is not worthy to be called a mother."
Catelyn was shocked by the harshness in Margaery's tone. The expression on the face of the Lady of Casterly Rock softened almost immediately afters she pronounced the words.
"Sorry, Catelyn. I shouldn't be so hard with you, especially after you were just almost killed. But you should see Rickon crying and asking about you and Bran all day, and Robb about to crumble under his charges since your lord husband left. They need you. They are your sons as much as Bran, and you won't help Bran by barricading yourself with him."
Margaery Tyrell sat down and opened a small book she let on a nearby table. Catelyn looked at her, this young woman she barely knew a few weeks ago. She looked tired. Catelyn supposed it was normal after all this time she spent to carry out the duties that the Lady of Winterfell usually took care of, and taking care of Rickon at the same time. She may not have children yet, but she was the lady of a great castle, married to one of the most powerful men in the Seven Kingdoms, and a dwarf above all. It couldn't be easy, to find yourself the wife of the less desirable man in the world. Margaery told her once that she was only sixteen when she was wed, and that she knew nothing about her husband except for rumors saying he ate children and spent his nights in brothels. Catelyn tried to imagine how she would have faced this, how Lysa, Sansa or Arya would have faced it. The fact that this young woman succeeded to live with this man, and even managed to be happy with him, showed how strong she was.
"Did you wait here all day?" That was a strange question to ask, but that was the only one that came to Catelyn's mind in that moment.
"I spent an hour or two with you since that night. There was always a servant standing by your side when I wasn't there," replied the Lady of the Westerlands.
Catelyn noticed that her arms were bare. How could she manage to dress so lightly in the North? Catelyn never dressed this way, not even after sixteen years spent here, and even in her own room that was the warmest of all the castle. Even back in the Riverlands, before she was wed, she never dressed in this way. That was far too provocative, but she knew that Margaery Tyrell came from a region where the weather was quite hot and where people wore lighter clothes, so she overlooked it.
"What happened to the assassin? Have you found anything on him yet?"
"He's dead. We can thank your son's direwolf. I used to be unsure about them, but it seems your sons took a good decision when they brought them. You would be dead the other way."
"Did you find anything about this man?" repeated Catelyn.
"I know Robb is inquiring about it. You could ask him when he comes. I sent for him and the maester."
"Thank you." Catelyn breathed deeply for a moment. "I'm sorry I was hard with you lately. You did more than anyone could expect from you, and it was unkind from me to not show you any recognition."
"I suppose we're evens now," the young lady replied with a smile.
The door opened at this moment. The young woman stood as Catelyn's eldest son and Maester Luwin came in.
"Lord Stark. Maester Luwin," Margaery said.
"Thank you for watching over my mother, Lady Lannister. Could you leave us alone?" her son said.
"Of course." She looked back at Catelyn one last time. "Take care of yourself. That's the most important thing right now."
Once she was out, the maester closed the door and Robb approached of her. He was dressed in leather and ringmail, and had a sword at his waist. "How do you feel, Mother?"
"Well enough," she replied.
"I must look at your bandages, my lady. You'll need to eat something when we're done. I already…" She stopped the maester before he could go any further.
"Wait. The man? Who was he?"
"No one knew his name," Robb answered, "but some saw him wander around the castle these days. It seems he came with the Lannisters or the royal party."
"Did Lady Margaery know him?"
"She said she never saw him before. He didn't come with her and Lord Tyrion, to her saying. We asked all her men, but none could give us more information about him than our own."
"The man hid in the stables for the last week. We found the place where he slept. There was a bag hidden beneath the straw, with ninety silver stags in it. He was paid to do it," Luwin completed.
"How couldn't we notice his presence in an entire week?" asked Catelyn.
"With all the horses that left for the Wall and those who followed Lord Stark in the south, a part of the stables is empty."
"Hodor acted strangely lately. Maybe he saw him, but couldn't tell us," Robb supposed. "Still, someone paid this man to murder you, Mother. Who could it be?"
"He didn't come for me. He was here to kill Bran," Catelyn revealed.
"Bran?" Robb asked, unbelieving.
"He kept saying that no one was supposed to be here. He only attacked me when I tried to get in his way. As soon as he thought I was no longer an obstacle, he turned his attention to Bran again. He was here for him."
"But why? Why would someone try to kill Bran? He's only ten, and he's been sleeping for days."
"Lady Stark," Luwin interrupted, "I really have to look at your injuries, and you must rest. I think it would be better to leave these matters for another day, when you'll feel better. Lord Stark and Ser Rodrick will keep inquiring about all this."
Catelyn hated to say that, but the old maester was right. She felt tired, and her mind wasn't clear enough yet. "Is Bran safe?" she asked.
"I have two guards at his door, and one inside, along with two in the stairs leading to his chamber. No one can see him without my warrant," Robb said.
Catelyn felt relieved. However, there was one more thing she needed. "My son, the dagger the assassin used… It was no common dagger. Could I have a look at it?" No common assassin could have used a costly dagger like this one. He wasn't only paid for the murder. Someone else gave him that dagger, and this someone had means to own a very costly dirk.
"I'll send it for you later. In the meantime, rest, Mother."
Robb came and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Then Catelyn was left alone with Maester Luwin who removed her bandages, examined her injuries and wrapped her hands in a new bandage. He gave her some more Milk of the poppy and she fell asleep, thinking of the man who tried to assassinate her son. Her last thoughts were for the costly dagger he used, with a green precious stone on it.
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