Bran had been out cold for a week now.
His little body lay on the bed in his chamber, the only indication he was alive being the slight rustle of the furs as his tiny chest heaved with great effort. He never fell before, but that day ...
Cate couldn't stand being in that room, watching her brother to see if he'd fight or die. She couldn't stand watching Mother, her hands moving frantically as she wound a seven-pointed star, eyes growing more haggard and lines drawing themselves on her face as if with charcoal.
Instead, she escaped with Robb, Jon, and Theon, the four of them riding through the surrounding forests hunting.
She was leaving for King's Landing, Jon was departing for the Wall and the Night's Watch, and Robb and Theon would be staying behind. These were the last few days she'd have with them.
Hunting also helped her to avoid the Royal Party.
And her betrothed.
Especially her betrothed.
"Careful, Cate," Theon warned her once in the middle of a chase. "We might start to think you actually like us."
Grey Wind, Moondancer, and Ghost ran alongside the horses, following their masters and mistress, pouncing on rabbits the boys caught with their arrows. Cate hawked instead, though her merlin only brought down a few crows.
Cate laughed as Ghost shook his head, a dead stoat dangling from his mouth. "Hardly, but it was you or his royal pain in the ass."
Robb and Jon laughed at that.
"Glad to know we're at least preferable to that royal prick," Robb snickered.
They all knew who she was talking about, of course. In the week since the Royal Party arrived, Joffrey managed to piss off all the Stark boys trying to challenge each of them to a fight in the practice yard with live steel, only to insult them all when Ser Rodrik refused the request.
"Think of all those southern girls he gets to stab with his royal prick." Theon grinned wolfishly.
Cate shuddered. "I did not need that graphic visualization of my own future."
The boys all shared a look as Cate spurred her horse to a trot.
Theon apologized later over a quick stop to eat, and even offered her the wine-filled flask he'd snuck out as a peace offering.
"It's alright," Cate said after a few swallows. "It's a lady's lot in life. Mother says he'll be different when we're actually courting. Who knows, maybe it's something in the northern air his little lion sensibilities can't handle."
"So we're all agreed the prince is a little shit," Robb said. "What about the rest of them?"
Jon laughed. "Lord Stark, are you suggesting we speak treason?"
"Lord Snow, you know me better than to actually say the word."
"Robert Baratheon's a drunken buffoon," Cate offered first.
Everyone agreed. Jaime Lannister was clearly handsome and a knight out of legends, and they were all equally jealous and admiring of him. Little Prince Tommen was round as a puff pastry, the southern ladies attending the queen seemed pretty if snobby, no one knew what the Hound's problem was, and Tyrion Lannister was grotesquely fascinating and fascinatingly clever (from what Jon had gathered during a throwaway conversation).
Theon smirked. "The queen's sleek as a mink."
Cate considered Cersei Lannister. "She could wipe the sneer off her face for a start."
Robb nudged her shoulder. "Hypocritical much?"
Cate started to scowl - then caught herself. "I'm not saying she needs to smile all the time, but she could make her hatred of everyone around her a little less obvious."
"She's still beautiful, though," Jon said. "And Princess Myrcella clearly took after her."
There was an awkward pause around the circle as Theon grinned, Robb blushed, and Cate and Jon looked back and forth between them.
"She seems ... nice," Cate said apprehensively. Moondancer sidled up to her and nudged her arm, and Cate reached around to scratch behind her ears. "I haven't talked much with her."
She'd been observing her all week, though. Not following her, but sometimes in the Great Hall she'd find herself watching Myrcella pick at the food on her plate. During lessons, they never spoke directly to each other but she'd glance every so often at the princess' embroidery, at the fluttering hands working quickly.
At the feast Father held before Bran's fall, she drank a cup of wine - and took more swigs than she meant to from Jon's mugs of ale. Her head felt pleasantly light, and she found herself standing by Myrcella in a line dance.
Myrcella caught Cate staring and leaned over to her. "I'm not familiar with this dance," she shouted over the swelling music and rumbling of the guests. There was a flush on her neck - she'd had too much to drink, too.
Cate took Myrcella's hand. "Follow my lead," she shouted back.
The dance that followed was a blur of faces, laughing and tripping over their own feet, and golden curls flying, brushing Cate's cheeks as they spun together.
That was the longest interaction they'd had all week.
"If Queen Cersei looked anything like Princess Myrcella sixteen years ago -" Theon started.
"Don't finish that!" Robb and Cate shouted.
Jon took a swig from the flask. "You know, Robb, I'll bet after Cate and Joffrey's marriage, King Robert will be looking to strengthen ties with the North even more."
Cate felt an odd pricking in her chest, like a sewing needle or a splinter - annoyance most likely. "I wish the King would find somewhere else to nab spouses for his children," she grumbled. "Treating us like broodmares to make up for his lost Lyanna."
Robb laughed. "I suppose it's our own fault for being the most marriageable nobles in the Seven Kingdoms, eh Cate?"
Cate laughed along with her brothers, but her throat felt dry.
Thank you for all the reads! Feel free to leave a review, they're always appreciated. What do you think of Cate's dynamic with the Winterfell boys?
