Cate Stark never considered herself a lady.
Not a true one anyway, like her little sister Sansa.
But she wouldn't say she was the opposite, either, like Arya. Not really.
Cate was somewhere in the middle, which was an apt way to describe the oldest daughter of Lord Ned and Lady Catelyn Stark. She was born with tufts of Tully red hair that with time lengthened into rich auburn curls. Her eyes, however - they'd been light blue at birth, but soon darkened to a sharp grey. Stark-like.
She loved the songs and stories of knights and ladies and true love and daring rescues. Evenings would see her and Sansa sitting by the fire and singing together, her fuller mezzo mixing with Sansa's sweet soprano.
However, it wasn't the damsels Cate loved - dainty princesses and swooning ladies. She admired the men, the strong knights and clever heroes. She longed to be like Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, or Florian the fool, or Symeon Starry-eyes. Morning would find her in the Godswoods with Arya, racing through as they play-fought with sticks and climbed trees.
At thirteen, she begged Robb to teach her to fight with a sword, then Jon, then finally Theon as a last resort, but neither had been willing to risk getting caught by Septa Mordane or Lady Catelyn. For the time being, Cate figured she'd content herself with reading about heroes.
It didn't stem the longing, though.
A new drabble series!
