Though Catelyn felt deeply humiliated and was still distressed at her Lyanna's jilting, she couldn't help but pity poor Lady Lyarra Stark. To Catelyn's knowledge, Lady Lyarra was greatly in love with Domeric Bolton, and him with her; not often were arranged betrothals and marriages joyful. It was a shame Lyarra Stark was ripped from her beloved betrothed. A great shame indeed.
"Must we dine with the Starks, Mother?"
Catelyn glanced at Lyanna was was sitting quietly beside her in a tiny circle of ladies also consisting of Minisa, Leyla, Melia, Rosaline, Lysa and Sansa. The Tullys had arrived two days ago (mostly for the wedding preparations) and surprisingly, Lysa showed up in the morning – a couple of hours before the Stark girls' arrival – with Sansa. Lysa hadn't descended from the Eyrie in years. Catelyn did wonder what finally brought Lysa out of hiding. Was she attempting to regain Sweetrobin from Stannis's hands? Catelyn doubted Lysa decided to show up to see her nieces and nephews and attend Orys and Lady Lyarra's wedding.
"Do you not wish to?" said Catelyn quietly. "Robb Stark is not here."
"I thought he would be," murmured Lyanna, staring blankly at the small patch of embroidery in front of her. "I thought he would come to King's Landing to give me an apology and an explanation. He was always honourable and kind. I'd never thought he would be a coward and hide from me."
"Forget Robb Stark," said Catelyn gently. "I know your father betrothed him to you since both of you were in cradles, but you are to be Willas Tyrell's bride. You will be the Lady of Highgarden soon enough. You will like Highgarden. It's said to be the centre of chivalry."
Lyanna nodded impassively. "Everyone says I am lucky to marry Willas."
"Everyone?"
"All my ladies mostly. The Lady Margaery reminds me daily of how fortunate I am to wed her brother. It is slightly annoying."
"She is trying to be sisterly to you."
"I suppose." She stabbed her needle into the linen cloth half-heartedly. Catelyn didn't have the heart to tell her to prick the cloth, not stab it as a soldier would to his enemy's body in battle. "Willas is kind," Lyanna admitted, "honest too. It is ah, wrong of me to criticise my future in-laws, but I know Lord Tyrell is quite power hungry. Boastful and foolish too. Lady Olenna calls him an oaf. Do you think Lord Tyrell will be foolish enough to try and have Willas crowned king?"
Catelyn was shocked. "By the Seven no! You have two brothers and if anything happens to them, there will be a Great Council to decide the next king. If we're to follow the succession laid out by the Targaryens, your uncle Lord Stannis will be king and his children will follow. I thought you learnt this already, Lyanna? If the succession is like the common succession in Westeros, you will be queen in your own right. Willas will be naught but your consort."
"I don't think Lord Tyrell will like that."
"Do not worry about the succession Lyanna. You have two brothers. Two very healthy brothers." Catelyn hesitated. "If you do not wish to dine with the Starks, I will excuse you if you wish."
Lyanna shook her head. "If I don't attend dinner, the conflict between our two families will only grow. We do not need that."
"Indeed. Will Lady Margaery be dining with us?"
Catelyn was relieved to say, "No. Lord Tyrell had invited Renly to dine with his family. As Lord Tyrell's daughter, Margaery will be supping there."
"It will be strange thinking of her as my good-aunt and good-sister."
"Catelyn," said Lysa suddenly. Catelyn and the ladies looked at her. For the last hour, Lysa was silent. For her to speak now was a mystery.
"Yes?"
"Something must be done about those horrible Freys! They are like rats!" She shuddered. Catelyn frowned. The Freys were despicable and sly, but she had met a few Freys who weren't cunning. The Lady Roslin Frey was certainly not wily. "I was accosted by Freys when I first arrived," Lysa continued, "Sansa too. A couple of them leered at us like drunkards and rapers. One even said that he would be a much better husband for Sansa than Ser Harrold Hardyng." She shuddered.
"How awful!" exclaimed Melia. "The Freys have pestered my father since I was born, always demanding marriages."
"I suppose they are here for the jousting tourneys," said Catelyn calmly.
"Can you not send them away?" requested Lysa.
Catelyn frowned. "That will be rude, Lysa. The Freys may not be the most liked people, but they are still noble. We cannot slight them. If you wish, I'll ensure that you and Sansa are kept away from the Freys. I'm afraid that will be the best that I can do for you. Lysa, if you do not mind me asking, why are you and Sansa here? I invited you here many times but you never responded."
"I was busy with Vale affairs," said Lysa stiffly.
Catelyn nodded slowly. "I see. It is good to see you again," she said honestly. "I am pleased to see you too, Sansa," she added. Her Arryn niece smiled back. "We'll all be going to the Vale soon," Catelyn told her, "for your wedding. Your uncle the king, me, all your cousins, other nobles all over Westeros – exciting is it not? Your wedding will be the talk of the century."
"Ser Harrold is not worthy of my daughter," said Lysa sharply. "A Hardyng! My daughter deserves to be wed to an heir of a Great House!" Catelyn sighed quietly. Her sister had changed greatly, mentally and physically. In the morning when she and Sansa arrived at King's Landing, Catelyn was shocked when she first saw her sister's appearance. The years hadn't been kind to Lysa. Lysa had lost her slender body and delicateness; her face had become pale and puffy and she'd painted and powdered it. Her small mouth was more petulant than before and her blue Tully eyes pale and watery rather than the sparkling, hopeful blue they once were. All that remained of Lysa's beauty was the great torrent of thick auburn hair that fell to her thick waist.
"Ser Harrold is charming, Mother," said Sansa tentatively.
"Charming!" chortled Lysa, glaring at her eldest daughter. "He won't love you! All he wants is to creep close enough to murder Sweetrobin and rule the Vale! He is Lady Waynwood's creature; a good for nothing upstart knight! Besides, he will never be faithful to you. He sired two bastards already."
Catelyn's lips tightened. She herself was still not endeared to Robert's bastard sons that resided in the Red Keep. She had hoped both of them would leave when they were of age, but no such luck. Gendry Waters spent most of his days making weapons and listening deeply to the songs of steel in the forge and Edric Storm a recurring sight in the training yard or in Renly's company.
"…and he will only have more," Lysa was ranting. "I know those young men. So unfaithful to their wives and they listen only to their cocks."
"At least Ser Harrold does not seem to demand his bastards be raised with his future trueborn children," Catelyn broke in. Leyla glanced at her. "Acknowledged them yes, but not raise them as his own." Lysa nodded vehemently. "I won't have them in the Eyrie," she said decidedly. "Ser Harrold can keep them in Ironoaks or wherever they live. Lady Waynwood dotes on him, Catelyn. She dotes on that boy more than she dotes on her own grandchildren."
"Ser Harrold will live in the Eyrie?" said Catelyn, surprised.
"Well of course." Impatience entered Lysa's voice. "Do you honestly think that I would part from my daughter? Stannis already robbed me of two children; I will not be robbed of another."
Catelyn nodded sympathetically and turned to Melia and Rosaline. "I'm glad to see both of you here. As you know, Lady Arya Stark is to join my household for at the most, a week. She is a year younger than you Melia, and a year older than you, Rosaline. I want both of you to help Lady Arya settle in. She has not been at court before and I don't want her to think it a prison. Melia, if Lady Lyarra needs aid of any sort, you will help her."
"Yes Aunt Catelyn," said the two girls in unison. Catelyn smiled. "They will join us tomorrow," she told them.
"Wouldn't Lady Lyarra be busy with wedding plans?" asked Rosaline.
"Most likely, yes. Lady Arya will not be though."
"Can Lady Arya play the flute, Aunt Catelyn? Melia sings wonderfully and I can play the harp. It'll be fun for the three of us to play and sing together when we're taking a rest from sewing."
"Lady Lyarra can play the harp and sing. I'm not sure about Lady Arya. Maybe she can play the harp. You can ask her tomorrow."
Rosaline nodded.
Catelyn stood up. "I must prepare myself for dinner," she said. She turned and looked at both her daughters. "Lyanna, Minisa, come. Lysa, Sansa, Leyla, Rosaline, Melia, I will see you tomorrow morning."
After taking a bite of roasted duck, Catelyn looked around. The table was more crowded than usual. Instead of the normal table they supped on, it was a circular one. "It is a time of peace," Robert had informed her. "No ranks and status and all that. We are all friends." To an extent, it was true. Robert and Lord Stark were in the midst of a deep conversation. It was no surprise that Robert had Lord Eddard seated on his right; he thought him more a brother than he viewed both his blood brothers. Next to Lord Stark was Lady Stark and Lady Arya, the latter bearing the oddest grimace Catelyn had ever seen. Then it was Lady Lyarra and Bran who sat next to Ormund, the two of them chatting happily. Following Ormund were Orys, Lyanna and Minisa and Stannis who sat on Catelyn's left. In family dinners which usually included the Starks, it was often Catelyn who ended up sitting beside her grim-faced good-brother Lord Stannis.
Tired of eating, Catelyn turned to Stannis. "You are quiet my lord."
Stannis arched an eyebrow. "We are supping my queen. Supper is meant to be a quiet time when we eat and drink is it not?"
Catelyn inwardly sighed. What use was conversing with him? He was still in a bad mood. One would think he would feel upset at declaring his lady wife's guilt; Stannis was displeased Lady Cersei's trial was not to be held any earlier.
"My queen?" Stannis was waiting for an answer.
"You are right of course my lord Stannis," said Catelyn quickly. Supping was a time to talk as well, but arguing with Lord Stannis Baratheon over what he would consider trivial matters was like arguing with a stone wall. "I hope you're finding that roasted pig succulent."
"It is satisfactory," came Stannis's short response.
"I um, see."
"What'll happen to Aunt Cersei?" inquired Ormund suddenly. Everyone looked at him in surprise. "Will she still be locked away?"
"Ormund!" said Catelyn sharply. "That is not an appropriate question."
"Nonsense Cat," said Robert with a hearty chuckle. Catelyn frowned at him. "It is inappropriate," she repeated. "Ormund is a boy. He does not need to hear all of this…this matter concerning Lady Cersei."
"Bah!" Robert dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. "They will all find out anyway." He looked at the children. "Lady Cersei will be put on trial soon," he confirmed. "After the wedding." He glanced at Stannis. "Stannis here wants her to be punished justly. No trial by combat as such. We are still discussing that."
Catelyn stood up. She was in no mood to discuss Cersei Lannister's trial. Every time she dined with Stannis and Robert, that subject would be broached, and it'd end in an argument every time. "Forgive me Robert," she said quietly. "I think I'll retire early for the night. Busy day tomorrow."
Robert nodded. "Wedding to prepare for."
Lady Stark stood up too. "I am not hungry either," she said quickly. Her purple eyes met Catelyn's. "Your Grace, allow me to accompany you to your chambers. It will be no trouble."
Catelyn's lips tightened. Peace, she reminded herself. To forgive another's tiny or large mistakes was one step towards peace. "I would like your company thank you," she said as amicably as she could manage, which was not so difficult.
"My daughter will marry your son," remarked Lady Stark. "We will be family."
"Are you accompanying me to discuss just that?" said Catelyn dryly. "Since you and Lord Stark arrived and broke the news, all I heard every day was my son and your daughter's wedding. It is the talk of court…and Robert's favourite subject at meal times. Once Robert liked discussing which animals are easier to hunt during summer; now he enjoys talking about the wedding."
"Not even wine?" Lady Stark hesitated. "My apologies Your Grace."
"Nothing to apologise," said Catelyn with ease. "Oh he still likes talking about a number of different wines he used to fancy. That conversation is usually after an afternoon of bad hunting." Now it was her turn to hesitate. "He once told me that lemon water tastes like…piss in comparison to Arbor gold."
Lady Stark snorted. "You stopped him drinking did you not, Your Grace? I was told that is a great achievement."
Catelyn smiled briefly. "That is what I will be remembered for," she said with a tinge of sarcasm. "Bearing four children and preventing Robert from drinking his fill in wine. Knowing the maesters, they will probably twist it into a great story – Robert was a strong king who never touched a cup of wine after he ascended the Iron Throne. A lovely little story."
"I doubt that will happen. Your Grace…what do you truly think of the wedding that will be held in a few days? It is your eldest son's wedding and I don't believe all the lords can make it. It will take the northern lords a few weeks if they decide to ride to King's Landing, but there is also a war against the wildlings. When it is between a royal wedding and fighting wildlings, the majority of them will choose battle." She sighed gloomily. "I wish Robb could attend his sister's wedding.. It's a great pity that he cannot make it. Then again…" Her voice trailed off. Catelyn said nothing. What was done, was done. There must be peace and remembering every disagreement of the past would not help at all.
"Robb will see his sister again," Catelyn told Lady Stark. "There will be trips to Winterfell and I'm certain he will come and visit King's Landing."
"There is something you must know about Arya, Your Grace."
Catelyn frowned. "What is it?" She didn't remember the middle Stark girl quite as well as she recalled Lyarra. She knew that Lady Arya looked like her aunt Lady Lyanna Stark with her brown hair and Stark grey eyes. Apart from that…
Lady Stark looked uncomfortable. "I think it is best if I tell you more about her. I don't want you to be um, shocked tomorrow. Arya isn't like your nieces or your daughters. She despises sewing and would do anything to escape it. She has wolf blood in her veins Your Grace. I know it is a terrible excuse – a truly terrible one." She bit her lip. "I just…I hope you can understand."
Catelyn remained silent. She is the woman responsible for all this trouble, she reminded herself. Her bastard niece sneaking into Robb's bed. Now she's asking for her daughter to be excused from sewing. She almost frowned, but Lady Stark was watching her like a hawk. There was no point dwelling in the past. For weeks she avoided Lady Stark's company, believing her to be manipulative and cunning like so many southron lords and ladies. Perhaps she was too hasty in deciding Ashara Stark's investment in revenge. Ashara Stark had always been a good friend; lying and treachery didn't seem to be part of her. Then again, some people just happen to be excellent liars and deceivers.
"Your Grace?" prompted Lady Stark.
"All girls must learn to sew," said Catelyn coolly. "Can Lady Arya sing? Play an instrument or two?"
Lady Stark looked taken back. "Um, of course Arya can sing! She was taught to, but she rarely sings at Winterfell."
"If she dislikes sewing, she can sing. Or read even."
"Your Grace, I did not do what you think I did. If you are still angry at me, so be it, but please don't take your anger out on Arya. She's not responsible; she's here to pay for House Stark's crimes. Children should not pay for their parents, sisters or brothers' mistakes. You might not want a girl like Arya in your household, but she doesn't want to be here either. I'm imploring, from one mother to another. It will be cruel to punish a child who did no wrong. I also desire peace between our Houses as there once was before…before what Robb did. It will bring bad luck to Orys and Lyarra if we attend their wedding still angry, upset and holding grudges against each other."
Catelyn nodded. Weddings were happy occasions, not sad ones. Even the most reluctant of marriages would yield joy in the celebrations. "I will never inflict my anger on a child," she said quietly. "Children should not suffer for the crimes that have been committed by their parents, siblings or relatives."
"It is an honour and a privilege to be in your household Your Grace. I thank all the gods for such an honour." Lady Arya Stark looked practically sullen, standing in front of Catelyn and reciting those words, her tone dull and unhappy. Her grey eyes showed nothing but misery. Poor girl, thought Catelyn, pitying her. Two days and already despondent. Poor girl. She glanced at Lady Lyarra. The elder Stark girl did not look any happier either.
"Welcome to my household," said Catelyn kindly. She gestured for her to sit. "I hope you will be happy here." Lady Arya mumbled thanks and made her way to a vacant chair between her sister and Rosaline. "We're sewing clothes for the poor Lady Arya," Catelyn explained. She pointed at the two large baskets in the centre of their circle of ladies. "The one on the left here is full of material and needles of all sizes you can use The other one is for completed clothes. You can decide what you wish to sew." Catelyn smiled encouragingly at Lady Arya.
"Perhaps another cloak?" suggested Lyanna. "With winter approaching, cloaks will be very useful." Lady Arya looked uncertain. She picked up a piece of linen, a needle and some thread. Catelyn watched her examine them slowly.
After what seemed like an hour, Arya gingerly jabbed her needle into the linen. Catelyn returned to her own sewing. For some reason, she could not concentrate. Was it due to the excitement of the royal wedding? Perhaps.
The door opened. Catelyn looked up. "Orys?" she said, surprised. What was he doing here? She was even more astonished to see him in the company of the two young men that escorted the Stark girls to King's Landing. Catelyn recognised the Greyjoy heir at once. One would not easily forget his smirking smile. Was her son already friends with them? Catelyn didn't know whether to be joyful or dismayed. Usually it was Ormund making friends; Orys was more of Stannis's temperament. Befriending a Greyjoy though…
"Mother," Orys greeted. "I come to ask Lady Lyarra to walk with me. I thought I would show her the godswood."
Catelyn nodded. She looked to the ladies for suitable chaperones for her future good-daughter. Apparently it was unfashionable now for older ladies to watch an engaged lady. "Melia, Lady Roslin," she decided, "Please accompany Lady Lyarra. Both of you are excused from your duties." Lady Roslin Frey was four years older than Lady Lyarra and patient, quiet and virtuous – an ideal chaperone. As for her niece Melia Tully, she'd keep Lady Roslin engaged in lively conversation. Melia's knowledge for court gossip was quite astounding, and she hadn't been at court a long time. She would enjoy the life of a courtier.
The three young ladies rose and curtsied to Catelyn. A minute or two after the three of them left with Orys, the Greyjoy heir and the northerner, the remaining ladies began talking to each other quietly. Catelyn smiled. It wasn't silent and the chatter was not loud either – just the way she liked. She glanced around. Her eyes met Lady Stark's.
Time to forgive and forget. Catelyn looked at Lady Arya who was staring at her linen cloth vaguely. "Lady Arya," Catelyn spoke. "I have heard many songs since I was a child. Songs from the Riverlands, the Reach, Dorne and the Vale. I am quite interested in hearing a northern song. Do you know any?"
For the first time, Lady Arya brightened. "The Time of Wolves is my favourite," she said brightly. "Do you wish to hear it?"
Catelyn smiled and nodded. "I will love to hear it," she said sincerely.
Okay, according to the reviews, most of you want the pace to speed up a bit? I'm happy to do that. Anyway, I don't actually remember reading if Arya can sing or not well? I'm assuming she can sing, but probably dislikes it because she thinks it a feminine activity or maybe she's afraid she'll be compared to Lyarra.
I'll need a time jump eventually once the wedding and Cersei's trial are dealt with otherwise we'll be moving at a snail's pace. Out of interest, would you prefer the time jump in Part 3 or would you prefer a nice finish to Part 3 with an appendix and make Part 4 say seven to eight months later? I'm interested in your thoughts about this. Normally I wouldn't ask, but I remember when I was writing Part 1, someone mentioned something about time jumps sacrificing character development.
