Catelyn

Catelyn sat in silence as she watched the Tourney below unfold. It was a farce, she knew, as most knight's who were worth anything were off at war, and so the pool for this Tourney was small.

Yet, they wanted a Tourney to celebrate the King's thirteenth name day, and so they had one. Let it be his last, Catelyn thought ruefully.

Sansa was seated near the King. Since Ned's death, Catelyn had been finding bruises on Sansa's body, worse than even the ones Arya would have from her dancing lessons, which had only made things worse. Even in private, Sansa was still prone to masking her true feelings behind her courtesies, and it made it hard for Catelyn to judge how she felt.

Arya has quickly learned though that now is not the time for willfulness, thankfully. Her younger daughter had been spared the boy king's cruelties so far, as Catelyn had, but every day she wondered.

Catelyn still wondered how a child could grow to be as truly monstrous as the new boy king was. She could only hope that Robb would soon make some trade to at least get the girls out of King's Landing, yet the closest trade she could think of was his wife who'd already given him a son, or her female companions, only one of which was a Lannister, and a distant one at that.

The only comfort she could find was that Bran was not here, though even then, now she wondered if that was a mistake, when she heard Lord Caron was among the lords who declared for Renly. She only could hope that they would not torture or kill Bran after Aegon had been declared king.

Aegon, she thought grimly. He had been declared king by Robb and his lords at Riverrun after they must've gotten word of Ned's death. She only prayed the boy she had helped raise had become a good man.

And Robb was now a father. It seemed a little queer that Robb was now leading hosts to war and a father to a son of his own, yet not as much as it had been. Yet from what she had heard, Princess Myrcella had named their son Eddard, which had made Catelyn even sadder, though she didn't know for whom. Was it for Myrcella who would have to raise her son alone in Winterfell, or for her knowing she would have a grandson that would always be a reminder of her grief?

She remembered when she had named Robb herself, at Riverrun, when the Rebellion still raged, and each day brought more uncertain news. Lysa had cautioned her to perhaps pick a different name since it was only like to bring the Mad King's wrath down upon her and her son if he were named for the then Lord Robert, but Catelyn had done it anyways, knowing they would face his wrath anyways if they were to lose.

Catelyn decided to look at the spectacle at hand to take her mind off of her worries. Sansa was seated in the royal box, a shaded crimson canopy, along with the boy king and Prince Tommen as well as Princess Lanna, and the Hound standing guard behind them.

The Queen regent was too busy with matters of the Small Council today to be attending the tourney, and the youngest of her four children to still remain in King's Landing, Prince Loren, was too young to attend without his mother there.

Sansa looked beautiful today. She wore a gown of pale purple silk with a moonstone hair net over her auburn hair, which she had been gifted by the king.

Young Tyrek sat with her too. Cersei had insisted that the two were still to marry, but had postponed their wedding after her son had seen it fit to order Ned's head be removed. Sansa didn't want to marry the lad even more now, since Catelyn couldn't even assure her that it would bring peace like it might have otherwise. No, the Lannisters meant to have her maidenhead to spite Robb.

The tourney hardly compared to the grand affair that had been the Tourney of the Hand. No nobles of note were in attendance save for those who already lived at court, and very little of the small folk had deigned to attend the tourney as well. The stands were half full, largely filled with Gold and Red cloaks of the City Watch and the Lannister Men at arms.

Only forty men were competing in the lists from what Catelyn had heard, making for a poor show.

Catelyn herself sat near the royal box with her two younger daughters beside her, and the rest of what remained of their household. They were all prisoners, She thought grimly to herself, but she would still have to care for them all the same. Only young Edmund Blackwood had deigned not to attend though, citing illness.

Black was her color today, as it had been every day since the boy king had ordered Ned's head be taken. The sight still flashed clearly before her eyes, with the mob cheering, and men rushing about in the madness of the moment, before Ser Illyn swung the sword.

The herald announced the first joust of the day. "Ser Boros Blount of the Kingsguard,' he called out, and Ser Boros rode forth.

With the Kingslayer a prisoner of Robb's at Riverrun, Ser Richard Horpe on Dragonstone with Stannis, and Ser Arys Oakheart sworn to Myrcella at Winterfell, only four of the seven knights of the Kingsguard were there, and Ser Boros was the least of them.

He had once earned renown and proved his prowess during Robert's Rebellion, but the gods had not looked on him kindly with age. He wore the white armor of the Kingsguard, and rode upon a chestnut coursier, forth to the lists.

"Ser Elwood Harte," the herald announced was to be his foe.

Ser Elwood was an unremarkable knight to Catelyn's eyes. His armor was plain, with little of his house being marked on it.

The two were ready at the end of the lists, when they began to lean forward and urged their horses on towards one another. The crowd gave some cheers of excitement and encouragement as the two made their pass for one another. As the two made their pass, Ser Elwood had remained in his seat while Ser Boros had broken his lance, though Ser Elwood's own had remained unbroken.

When they reached the end, they continued around, and Ser Boros was given another lance. This time around when they charged, Ser Boros was not so lucky and was thrown from his saddle, with Ser Elwood being victorious.

There were some cheers among the crowd, for Ser Elwood's victory. Normally unseating a Knight of the Kingsguard in a Tourney might be a feat to sing of for a knight like Ser Elwood, but amongst this lot it was hardly worth anything.

The next bout was between Ser Aron Santagar and Ser Osney Kettleblack as the herald called. She could hear that men around her were betting on this match, more than they had the last one, but Catelyn herself did not partake. Here she had no income, and only had what the Lannisters say fit to give her and her daughters.

She watched as the two knights began to ride to the opposite ends of the lists, and readied themselves.

Theirs was a harder fought match, with each of the knights breaking four lances, before eventually the Master at Arms proved victorious, unhorsing Ser Osney.

When Catelyn looked at Arya, she saw that her daughter was quite bored. The last tourney there had been was the one that the King had decided to hold in honor of Ned's Appointment to the post of Hand of the King, which had been a grand affair, with knights and lords from all over the realm in attendance and many fine displays of jousting.

This a poorer show by comparison, with none of the grandeur that there had been before. "Do you wish to return to the castle?" Catelyn asked. She wasn't sure that they would be allowed to, but it was worth considering at least.

Arya simply shook her head. "No mother," she said despondently. Since Ned had died, often it felt like all the fire had gone out of Arya. Catelyn wondered what she would give to be forced to scold Arya for trying to run away from Septa Mordane again.

Her Nymeria and Sansa's Lady had remained chained and locked away in the kennels, and neither of the girls were happy about that. Catelyn had kept from the girls how the Queen had threatened to have the wolves killed though, and it had only been through her begging that they had even been allowed to live.

The next joust had the first mystery knight of the lists. There were five, but this one was the plainest of them, wearing simple armor. He was a smaller man too.

And his foe was the recently knighted Ser Lancel Lannister, who had been a squire to King Robert less than half a year earlier.

For one of the jousters being the queen's own cousin, and the other bringing the excitement of a mystery knight, this joust received more cheers and attention than the other two had. Even Arya was watching a little more intently this time.

On the first pass the distinct sound of lances splitting could be heard, and cheers went up amongst the crowd. As the horses continued around, both knights still had remained in their seats, and had broken their lances.

The second pass was much the same, as the two knights made another go at one another, and both managed to break their lances on the other, but remained in their seats.

But on the third pass, a great crash came with the splintering wood, and when the dust settled, it was Ser Lancel who had fallen.

There was a small cheer among the crowd, but Catelyn sensed that much of it was suppressed at the thought of how it was the Queen's cousin that had been beaten and that the king was there. Most everyone in court had seen just how cruel Joffrey could be.

The mystery knight didn't quite seem to know what to do now that they had won, riding before the royal box, and giving a bow of his head to the king before he rode off to the side.

Catelyn meanwhile took notice of new people entering the tourney grounds. Not far off she spotted hundreds, perhaps thousands of men approaching. Lannister men, she judged. Lord Tywin has arrived at last.

There had been confusing reports of late, that Lord Tywin had taken up station at Harrenhal, rather than riding to King's Landing. None of the King's Council were willing to tell her for a certainty.

If Lord Tywin is here then he won't be a danger to Robb in the field, she thought to herself. What foes there would be for her son to face, she did not know, but she could only hope.

She felt a little confused when she started to see the banners. While there were a few Lannister ones for a certainty, most seemed to have a fish on them. For a moment she wondered if perhaps her brothers had come, but she knew that was folly.

Before long she realized that they were the banners of House Mooton, not House Tully.

She remembered House Mooton was sworn to House Tully, but the Mootons had fought for Prince Rhaegar at the Trident, so what they were doing here she didn't know. And one of Myrcella's ladies in waiting was a Mooton too she recalled. They must have gone over to the Lannisters, but why?

She supposed they must have simply bent the knee to Lord Tywin when he approached, but she started to realize it was Mooton men that were the majority there, leaving her confused.

In any case, she saw there were several that were approaching within the Tourney grounds, mounted. There was a man she could only guess was Lord Tywin, joined by several other people of high birth, riding into the Tourney Grounds.

There was some fanfare for them, but when they finally reached the grounds they dismounted, and began to make for the Royal Box.

Catelyn thought to pay them no heed, until she saw the man she thought was Lord Tywin approach her. He was a big and portly man, tall with short blond hair that was receding, and green eyes like Queen Cersei and her children.

Seeing him now, she didn't quite find him as intimidating as she had always imagined him to be. "My lord," she greeted, perking up when she saw the man was looking at her.

"My lady," he greeted, nodding his head. "I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," she told him, feeling a little surprised. Since Ned had died, she had received almost no condolences.

"Come with me while I go speak with the king," he bid, and Catelyn and Arya both rose as they were told. Another joust was going on now, but she wasn't paying much attention to it.

"Your daughter?" He asked her, seeing how Arya was walking with her, holding her hand.

Catelyn nodded. "This is Arya… Sansa is up in the Royal Box," she explained as he walked, pointing to Sansa.

He quickly realized which one it was, and seemed to take note of it. The rest of his company were completely strangers to her. There was a man who she could only guess was Lord Mooton and one of his daughters, but the others she didn't know at all save for being able to guess from their heraldry.

They walked to the Royal Box, with few paying them much heed. The stands weren't even very full, and they mad it there without any issues.

"Your grace," the man greeted King Joffrey, before bowing his head to Prince Tommen and Princess Lanna in turn and giving both hugs.

"Where might I be able to find your mother?" He asked the children.

"She's holding a Council right now uncle," Joffrey answered.

Uncle? Catelyn thought confused for a moment. She had thought this was Lord Tywin who had come, but she realized this must have been one of Lord Tywin's brothers. Catelyn tried to remember the rest of their names, but the only one she could remember was Tygett, who was in the Reach and Ser Stafford who was raising a host in the west.

"Who are you my lord?" Catelyn asked as Kevan was starting to turn away from the royal children.

"I am Ser Kevan Lannister, my lady," he told her. "Tywin sent me in his stead to be Hand of the King until such time that he can join us here."

Oh. There was another crash and a cheer as Catelyn guessed another man had been knocked from his horse.

Ser Kevan began to introduce Lord William and Lady Jorelle Mooton to the royal children, saying that he had won them to their cause, with Lady Jorelle taking a seat at Joffrey's side. Catelyn felt equal parts angry at Lord William and pity for Lady Jorelle, before Ser Kevan began to walk away.

"Perhaps you would like to come with me back to the castle?" Ser Kevan suggested to her.

Catelyn gave him a curt nod. It wouldn't be polite to decline the Hand's invitation she knew, and the Tourney was still a rather dull affair.

Suddenly she heard Sansa's voice, and she realized her daughter must have come when she saw something was going on between them. "What's happening mother?" Sansa asked.

"Ser Kevan is returning to the Castle for a meeting with the Small Council and asked us to join him… Perhaps you would like to come as well?"

Sansa paid a nervous glance back towards Tyrek, but nodded. "Yes mother," she said.

Together Catelyn and her daughters began to leave the Royal Box, along with Ser Kevan and some of his company. First they went to get their horses, and Catelyn helped both of her daughters mount, before one of the grooms began to help her onto her horse, and together the three of them rode back to join with Ser Kevan and the rest.

They started to ride back for the Red Keep, with Catelyn riding alongside Ser Kevan. He seemed to put some distance between them and everyone else in the company, which she didn't know if she ought to have been thankful for, or dreaded. As they started to ride towards the King's Gate he finally spoke to her.

"Is your son here my lady?" He asked her curiously.

For a moment she thought he was asking about Robb, and gave him a strange look, before she realized he was speaking of Bran. Catelyn shook her head. "He's not… My lord husband sent him away with Lord Caron not long before… Before the King's death."

He nodded. "I am sorry for your husband's death my lady… I cannot say that I knew him well, but he seemed like a good man. Tell me… Whose work was his death?"

It was Littlefinger's, she thought bitterly. She ought to have remembered how often Petyr had been whispering in the King's ear, perhaps whispering the notion that he ought to kill Ned and claim it a mercy. She realized it was he who Ser Ilyn had ridden too and from the Sept of Baelor with too.

Catelyn only wondered if it was because he lusted after her, as he had once sought to win her hand when they were younger. Petyr had not spoken to her that day, and Catelyn had told her daughters to stay far away from him as well. She wondered if he thought that if Ned was killed she would agree to marry him, but Catelyn had little interest in wedding again, least of all to him. If Robb's needs it of me, I will, but otherwise...

"The King gave the orders, Ser," she told him as they began to ride down the River Row that ran further off from Visenya's Hill. She wasn't sure what else she could say to him beyond that.

He had a grim look on his face when he told her that, before he took a glance ahead of them where Sansa and Arya were riding. "Your daughters are both lovely, my lady… How are they? How have they been enjoying the city?"

They had loved it here once, she considered saying. But that had all been before their father was killed. "They miss home, and their brothers… And their father," Catelyn said. Robb and Ned were traitors to the crown she knew, but she guessed that Ser Kevan already could tell that they missed them.

"Perhaps they will be sent home yet… And you my lady," he said. "But that will depend on your son."

And so our fates rest on Robb again.

Author Notes:

Yeah so… The Tourney of Prince Joffrey's three and tenth nameday is a little different, and I threw together a few names there for competitors. Actually, I made of list of like 40 people and then didn't even bother to really use very much of it.

Thanks for reading guys!