All night Catelyn wept in her father's arms, not caring if other lords and ladies heard. She knew Robert would not stay faithful to her for long – if ever – but the impulse of acknowledging not one but two bastards – one lowborn even! – and bringing them up alongside her own sweet daughter was too much.

Catelyn had begged him to remove that idea from his mind; he resisted. "They are my sons Catelyn," Robert said adamantly. "Edric is Delena Florent's son. Do you think those Florents will be pleased if I did not acknowledge Edric as mine own son? Bastard he may be, he is mine son and I am obliged to take care of him. What better way than to put him in the royal nursery? You should be happy. Our little daughter will have siblings to play with." Catelyn did not bother to tell him their daughter was only two years old.

She felt her heart crack like glass when she heard the news of Robert bedding Lady Delena Florent on the night of Stannis and Cersei's wedding. Her heart only burnt with fury when she was told Robert's newest notion of having the bastard under the same roof as herself and Lyanna. Not only was that infuriating, but the nerve of Robert taking in another bastard-!

"Don't cry dear Cat," murmured her father, stroking her hair. "Don't be angry at Robert. All noble lords must acknowledge their bastards. That is the way. Your husband would have left them on the streets-"

"Why didn't he?" cried Catelyn. "Does he do this to hurt me? Does he think me an unsatisfactory wife?"

"Hush, little Cat. Any man will count himself lucky to have you as wife. Robert will never hurt you. It was Jon…it must've been Jon who convinced the king to take in a bastard or two."

Catelyn stared at her father, her eyes afresh with a new stream of tears. "My good-brother is responsible for this?" It felt strange to address old Jon Arryn as her good-brother when he was ancient enough to be her grandfather, yet as any good Tully, she tried to accept him as family.

Hoster nodded, his blue eyes flashing with anger. "His honour costed nothing but trouble for you! I cannot believe I was foolish enough to marry him to Lysa! Oh Jon Arryn may be honourable with no bastards of his own, but telling Robert to house two bastards and recognise them as his own was too much! It must be Jon Arryn who was responsible! I will go and speak to him at once! He better have damned good reasons for forcing you to accept Robert's damned bastards!" He stormed out of her chambers after giving Catelyn a reassuring pat.

Catelyn wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. What can I do? I am a Tully. Family, Duty, Honour. What good would the Tully words do? Family first, but how could she love a husband whose seed spread from the cold North down south to the Reach (Robert had yet to set foot in warm Dorne – Catelyn highly doubted he would ever visit Dorne after what happened during the Sack of King's Landing)? Mayhaps I can still love out of duty. No. Loving Robert out of duty will in a way, stain her honour. Dutifully loving a king who planned to foist two young bastards upon her was wrong.

She took a deep breath. Stay calm, she told herself. You are heavy with child; it will only upset the child if you rage more. Catelyn knew Delena Florent's bastard son would be acknowledged, but the other bastard? Who was he? Probably some bastard Robert sired upon a tavern whore. She patted her swollen stomach and calmed down considerably. Caressing her stomach always soothed her.

"My queen?" Ashara entered her chambers, concerned. "Ned heard the king's announcement and I thought it best to comfort you."

Catelyn smiled at her. "You are kind, Ashara." Her voice was weak from hours of weeping. "What time is it?"

"It is morning, my queen." Morning already? Catelyn pulled the curtains away and was instantly blinded by a shaft of sunlight. She laughed hysterically. "I wept all night like a child," she remarked, smoothing her wrinkled skirts. "What did my husband say to the court?"

Ashara frowned. "Are you certain you wish to know?"

"Yes. I already cried all my tears away."

The Lady of Winterfell did not look convinced. She hesitated for a moment and said. "His Grace announced his acknowledgement of Delena Florent's child as his own. Delena Florent presented the babe, and Edric Storm – her bastard – looked every inch the king's son with his black hair and blue eyes. The king also said he will look after Edric's wellbeing and raise him alongside his own children in the royal nursery." She gave Catelyn a sympathetic look. "To further conciliate House Florent, the king promised to find Edric Storm a worthy bride when he is of age to wed, and betrothed Delena's cousin, Lady Selyse Florent, to Tywin Lannister's youngest brother Gerion, and had Barristan the Bold knight him. Of course she is much closer in age to Tywin's son Tyrion, but who would marry a dwarf? There was also talk of a marriage between Lord Florent's heir Alekyne and one of Lord Tyrell's nieces or cousins.

"After that, he had Jon Arryn bring in a boy of about three with black hair and blue eyes – obviously another one of Robert's bastards. I thought that he must've been another bastard he had begotten from another highborn lady; imagine my astonishment when the king announced the boy – Gendry – to be his and a lady from an alehouse! A lowborn and a bastard, and the king decided to acknowledge him and place him in the royal nursery! A scandal!"

"Did he say why he acknowledged Gendry?" said Catelyn softly.

"No…my queen."

"You said Jon Arryn brought him in?"

"Yes, my queen."

Her father must be right in saying it was the Lord of the Eyrie at fault. Robert barely listened to her and his lords; the only advice he listened to were from the lips of Eddard Stark and Jon Arryn, both of whom who were honourable to the bone. "How is Robert certain the boy is his?" Catelyn wondered aloud.

Ashara bowed her head. "I do not know, my queen."

"Don't look ashamed, Ashara, and how many times do I have to tell you to call me Catelyn? We are friends, are we not?"

"My husband housed one bastard under our roof; yours took two. Ned wants me to return to Winterfell to give birth to my child, but I cannot bear to leave you here to suffer the indignation of the bastards alone."

"You are too kind, Ashara. Too kind. However, the matter of Robert's bastards is mine to bear alone, not you." She glanced at Ashara's stomach. "When will you have your child?"

"A week or so. You?"

"Anytime between now and a week. Robert hopes for a son. He is happy with Lyanna, but I know he wants a son. The Iron Throne needs an heir."

"Ned said he did not care if our child is a son or daughter." Ashara glowed like a shining star as she spoke of the growing babe in her womb. "I know he'll want another son, but between us, I want a daughter. Ned promised me the honour of naming our child."

Catelyn felt envious. Robert had named their firstborn and he would definitely name their son – if it was a son in her belly. "Robert would want to name his heir Steffon," she said, walking to her wardrobe to find a new gown. At court, she was expected to wear a different gown every day. She hated that custom. "If another girl, she'll most likely be a Cassana."

"It is natural to name one's child after one's parents."

"I would love to name a daughter after my mother," Catelyn confided in her. "I hoped to name my daughter Minisa, but Robert wanted her Lyanna. I will have a good many daughters; one of them will be a Minisa. Will you name your daughter or son after your parents?"

Ashara laughed. "A Dayne name for a Stark? Asteria Stark? Hesperion Stark? I cannot imagine that. I considered Astraea and Dyanna but decided if I have a girl, I will name her after Ned's mother, Lyarra Stark. Perhaps after a few more sons and daughters I will give one or two of them Dayne names."

"Lyarra Stark and Lyanna Baratheon," mused Catelyn. "I hope one day they'll be close friends. Then again, they will be good-sisters once Lyanna marries your Robb. That betrothal will never break."

Ashara nodded in agreement. "I cannot wait until the day your daughter and my son wed, uniting our houses together."

"I cannot wait either."

"How is Lady Arryn?"

"Quite well! I have read a dozen letters she sent from the Eyrie and she seems to have adjusted to life there and has even began adopting the Vale fashion in her own gowns. I miss Lysa greatly, but at least she is content now."

"I too miss my brother and sister. I received a letter from my brother earlier in the month. His wife finally given birth to a child, a boy, before dying a few hours later from childbed fever. They named him Edric."

"Congratulations Ashara! Will you see him sometime soon?"

"I intend too." Ashara beamed. "Perhaps after I give birth."

The door opened and Uncle Brynden entered, grinning from ear to ear. "News from Riverrun, Your Grace," he informed Catelyn. "Lady Stark." He nodded as he caught sight of Ashara. "Edmure has a son," he told Catelyn at once. "Your father and I have just heard. He has a son! He named the babe Hoster, in honour of your father. Hoster is making plans to return to Riverrun as we speak."

Catelyn smiled. Edmure married and now a father! He could finally forsake his womanising ways and be a family man. "I wish I can be at Riverrun too," she said wistfully. "Edmure's wedding was beautiful."

She thought her own wedding was perfect. Marrying King Robert Baratheon in the Great Sept of Baelor was a dream, but Edmure had the honour of wedding Lady Leyla Hightower at the Starry Sept in Oldtown, once the centre of the Faith before the construction of the Great Sept of Baelor. Unlike her own wedding with Robert, Edmure's was more or less a family affair. Most Hightowers of Oldtown attended the wedding along with a dozen or so Tyrells, Redwynes, Rowans and other nobles from the Reach that married into House Hightower. From Riverrun, only her father attended with a small number of his men; Catelyn joined him, her uncle Brynden too, though more as her sworn shield than uncle. Sadly Lysa was the only Tully who could not make Edmure's wedding.

"Is the baby healthy?" asked Catelyn.

"Most likely," replied the Blackfish. "You, Lysa and Edmure were all bonny as children. Leyton Hightower had many children so fertility should not be an issue in Edmure's marriage with Leyla. Little Hoster is their first child of many! It will not be long before Riverrun is filled with the sound of children's laughter again." He smiled reminiscently.

Catelyn looked at Ashara. "May I have a moment alone with my uncle?" Her friend nodded. "I will go and…find Ned."

Once Ashara left, Catelyn said quietly. "Do you regret agreeing to be a sworn brother of the Kingsguard?"

Uncle Brynden looked taken back. "Cat…no! Why would you ask?"

"If you were not a knight of the Kingsguard, you could go home. You could go back to Riverrun and spend time with Edmure's son. You always loved children even though you had none of your own."

"I am a Tully-"

"Why did you not wed Bethany Redwyne all those years ago? You will always be a war hero in my eyes, Uncle, but you had the opportunity to marry a beautiful maiden from a highborn family not from the Riverlands and have children! Were you in love with my mother?"

Brynden Tully had a look of horror similar to Lysa's when she was told of her marriage to old Jon Arryn. "Who told you that?" he demanded. "Your Grace," he added rather sheepishly.

"I heard rumours," said Catelyn truthfully. "A little at Riverrun when I grew up but more here. A few ladies said you loved my mother and refused to wed when she married my father."

"Lies. Your mother was a comely woman and I loved her…as a good-sister. I'd admired her from afar, but once she was wedded to your father, I turned my eye elsewhere. My betrothal to Bethany Redwyne…the match was grand."

"Yet you still rejected her."

"Aye."

"Why?"

"Cat…I have carried the truth with me for twenty eight years and will do so till my death. It is a story you do not want to hear."

"Uncle…you heard all the stories I told you since I was a little girl in Riverrun. I told you my fears, dreams complaints…you listened to them patiently and gave a good many advice. You loved me, Lysa, Edmure and even Petyr, yet argued with my father, beginning with your rejection of Bethany Redwyne. It is now my turn to listen to your stories."

Brynden shook his head stubbornly, his eyes misty with memories. "I do not wish to burden you with a story of tragedy and heartbreak. Not today. One day in the future, I will tell you about Bethany Redwyne. I promise."

Catelyn nodded, satisfied. Her uncle always kept his promises.

"Will you take little Hoster as a page when he is old enough?" she said with a smile as she remembered Edmure as the Blackfish's page. Edmure abandoned his duties at every opportunity he could find to slip to the nearest tavern or meet up with his friends. He only took his duties seriously once their father threatened to send him to the Twins to squire for Walder Frey.

"If I am asked," answered Brynden. "However, Hoster may have plans for his Tully grandson to page or squire for the king when he is of age. Mace Tyrell had already secured the promise of a position as squire to the king for his heir, Willas Tyrell. One Tyrell as the king's squire is quite enough. Does Robert know he must have a number of squires and pages as befitting his royal rank? You should also appoint a page, Catelyn, or a cupbearer. Many lords will consider it an honour for their sons or daughters to serve their queen."

"Do you have anyone in mind?"

"The Redwyne twins perhaps. Well one of them at least. If the Fat Flower plots against us, we will have the Redwynes neutral thanks to one of Paxter Redwyne's twins here as your page."

Catelyn was shocked. "To use one as hostage!"

Brynden nodded. "Aye. Robert Baratheon had been king for a little under four years and there is peace, but I do not trust the former Targaryen loyalists. There is nothing we can do about Dorne – for now – but we can pacify the Reach and quell their remaining thoughts of turning to find a Targaryen."

"Giving Willas Tyrell the chance to squire for the king…"

"Is nothing more than to tie the Tyrells to us if a grown Targaryen rises from the ashes and claims the Iron Throne."

"I thought Renly's betrothal to Margaery Tyrell will unite our houses?"

"They are both young; Renly ten and Margaery four. Betrothals can be broken and I suspect this one will…in time. Mace is foolish, but ambitious. He'll want his only daughter wedded to a powerful and influential lord, not the king's youngest brother who will inherit naught now that the lordship of the Rainwood is in the Onion Knight's hands. Unless the king yields Renly Dragonstone, Mace Tyrell will look elsewhere for a potential husband for his darling daughter."

"There's always the Greyjoys."

The Blackfish snorted. "Now that I'd like to see! A squid of the Iron Islands and a rose of the Reach united in marriage! Ha! Are you aware that Balon Greyjoy had affianced his second son Maron to Lord Mallister's younger daughter Tarra? Your father told me once he heard the news."

Catelyn nodded. Her father had ensured she was aware of every development no matter how minor, that occurred in the Seven Kingdoms. "I doubt it was part of a plan of peace between the Iron Islands and the mainland," she remarked. "It is odd behaviour for a Greyjoy."

"Aye. His father Quellon, wanted to reform the Ironborn way of life. A pity he did not succeed. Balon Greyjoy is up to something – I can sense it." The Blackfish glanced at the door suspiciously as if Balon Greyjoy and his men were lurking in the shadows right now.

"Who is Gendry?" said Catelyn, suddenly remembering her husband's lowborn bastard who was to join Lyanna in the nursery.

Her uncle was taken back. "Robert's bastard. Why?"

"He is lowborn."

"Cat! Who had been telling you all this?"

"Is there a reason why my husband decided to acknowledge one of his many lowborn bastards on a whim? And why him?" She felt a stab of pain in her belly. Ignoring it, she went on. "Why did he acknowledge – arrgh!" Catelyn stumbled as another bolt of agony twinged in her stomach.

"Cat?" said Uncle Brynden, concerned. "Cat! You must rest!" Before she could say another word, he rose from his seat and carried her to her bed as he'd done many times in her childhood. "Do not move!" he ordered, moving swiftly to the door. "I will call for Pycelle and inform the king!"


A guard of midwives circled Catelyn's bed like hawks as Robert held her hand and spoke to her more kindly and gently than he had done so in days. For the last week, she had been confined to her chambers in fear for her health. "Our good-sister Cersei had her first chid in Storm's End," he told her. "Once she's able to go around and move from her bed, she will return to court with Stannis. All the fuss of birthing the child in Storm's End because Stannis thought it would be a little boy!" He sniggered. "What a fool."

"A daughter then?" said Catelyn, breathing heavily as the familiar pains of her contractions began. "Stannis had a girl?"

"Aye. He named her Shireen." Robert snorted. "Hypocrite. Remember when he berated me for tarnishing our mother's memory by naming my daughter Lyanna rather than Cassana? Fool. Stannis himself named his girl Shireen! In his letter he said it was what our mother would've called Renly if he was a girl. As if I would believe his lies! Our mother always wanted another son, not a daughter! Ashara had gone into labour," he added, as if remembering it just then. "Pycelle predicts it be a long birth. I left Ned pacing in the godswood an hour ago. I guess he will still be there now." He chuckled again.

"Your Grace." The chief midwife stood in front of Robert. "The queen will be in labour very soon. It will be in your best interest to leave and wait outside if you so choose." Robert stared at her for a minute, his eyes lustily drinking in her long hair and bright green eyes. Please no, thought Catelyn, wincing as the contraction pains quickened. Robert, please don't…not now. She recognised the signs of lust in a mere second. The midwife frowned. "Your Grace? The other women and I must attend to the queen. Now."

Robert blinked. "Aye." He stood up, giving Catelyn a quick kiss before striding out her birthing chamber. "I will be in my chambers!" he shouted as he left. Was he telling me or the midwife? Catelyn had no time to think. The child was coming and she needed her strength. All of it.


A strong, healthy wail shook the castle walls as the sun ascended to its throne in the sky. Its golden rays peeked through the windows, curious to see the child in Catelyn's arms.

Sweaty, tired and exhausted, Catelyn rocked the babe in her arms. "We have a son," she said triumphantly as Robert Baratheon entered the birthing chamber followed by a stream of lords, with the exception of Ned Stark. "The Iron Throne has an heir," she continued, noticing the last of her roses blooming. "Spring has ended and summer is here…as is the heir of the Seven Kingdoms." She raised the infant slightly. "My lord husband, my lords, I am delighted to introduce you to my son, Orys of the House Baratheon, Crown Prince of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men and heir to the Iron Throne!" Catelyn smiled. She had given the Seven Kingdoms a son – a summer prince.

A prince of the long summer to come.


I planned to update this yesterday as a nice way to round off 2015, but I had no internet! :( I considered writing the awkward bedding scene but didn't feel ready yet to venture into lemon territory haha. By the way, this is not a rewrite. I will upload Part 1's appendix momentarily :)