Catelyn

Catelyn hung up the phone, tight-lipped with anger. Jon was coming over for dinner. At least Ned's given me advance notice that he'll be coming, this time, she laughed bitterly.

Hers and Ned's marriage had been something of a shotgun wedding, Catelyn would admit that freely, but the appearance of his first, illegitimate son had rankled with her. Jon was older than Robb by about a year, and Ned had sworn blind he had no more contact with the mother beyond paying child support. That had stopped when Jon turned one, and Ned brought Jon to the Stark house stating that his mother could no longer take care of him.

Jon himself then lived with the Starks until he turned fourteen, and Catelyn had never warmed to him. At fourteen, Ned's brother Benjen had taken Jon under his wing. Next it'll be Lyanna's turn, Catelyn sniffed to herself. Lyanna did dote on Jon, it was true, sometimes to the point of ignoring her other nieces and nephews, but she was hardly a good role model. She was rarely in the country. Ned refused to discuss her. If ever Catelyn offered an unfavourable opinion of Lyanna to him, he merely said 'She is my blood.' and presumed that would be the end of it. It was the same reaction he had with Jon.

Jon and Robb, being of a same age, became thick as thieves, and he had become close to Arya, Bran and Rickon too. His relationship with Sansa was more tenuous – Sansa always referred to him as her half-brother in a way the others didn't – but there was no denying the resemblance. It had often occurred to Catelyn that that was what she resented most; of all of Ned's children, Jon and Arya were the two who had the Stark features, with dark hair and grey eyes. The others took after Catelyn. Would it help if Jon resembled his mother? Catelyn asked herself. If he resembled this other woman that Ned loved just as much, if not more, than you?

For some reason, Ned had never revealed the name of Jon's mother, and Catelyn wondered if that was just as well. His visits were infrequent, which was something Catelyn thanked her lucky stars for. According to Sansa, he had his own apartment in the inner suburbs with his girlfriend, and had spare rooms ready if his siblings ever wanted to visit. This, Catelyn allowed grudgingly. Better they go to him than he come to us.

There was a knock at the front door. Catelyn glanced at the clock. The girls won't be home yet. Robb was in the back garden training the pups. She left the study and went to the vestibule, taking a quick look through the peephole at the person on the other side of the door. It was Theon. She sighed, and opened the door.

'Hey Catelyn,' Theon said. 'Is Robb in?'

'Hello Theon,' she said. 'How are you?'

'Can't complain, can't complain. You?'

'I'm not too bad. Robb's in the garden.'

As Theon slouched past her, Catelyn shook her head. That was another mouth to feed for dinner. Theon was Robb's best friend, and had spent as much time as humanly possible at the Stark house when they were growing up. Catelyn suspected his homelife wasn't very happy. The boy was hard to love, but grew on you. Like mould. A chorus of yipping floated in from the garden.

She spent the next ten minutes flicking through recipe books, trying to decide on a meal that would feed all nine of them. Eventually she picked chilli con carne, and got to measuring out nine portions of rice. She added another portion, just to be safe. Catelyn took meat out of the freezer and put it in the microwave to defrost when the door opened.

'Hey Mam,' Sansa said, entering the kitchen. She slung her bag onto one chair, and slumped into another. Catelyn noticed a plaster on her knee, but didn't mention it.

'Hello sweetheart,' she said. She rummaged in the fridge for some peppers. 'How was school?'

'Not bad.' Sansa worried her lip with her teeth for a minute, fingers tracing an invisible patter on the tabletop. 'Joffrey asked me to go to the graduation dance with him.'

'Really?' Catelyn stood up, and looked at her eldest daughter. 'What did you say?' She knew Sansa was desperate to go to the dance, but if she were truly happy about the invitation Catelyn would have to pry her off the ceiling. Her reticience was screaming at Catelyn's maternal impulses.

'I said yes,' Sansa said. 'But...'

'But what? What's wrong?'

'Nothing! But there's this other boy...'

Little by little, Catelyn enticed it out of her. This Sandor boy had nearly come to blows with Joffrey over her, Sansa said, and Joffrey had revealed a very unkind side of his personality. Sansa wasn't sure if going with Joffrey would be the right thing to do.

Catelyn went to her daughter and embraced her. Sansa wasn't crying yet, but she sensed tears weren't far away.

'Maybe you shouldn't go to the dance with him, Sansa,' she said. 'Perhaps you should wait until it's your graduation dance.' She let her go, and went back to chopping vegetables.

'But what if no-one asks me to my own dance?' Sansa pouted. 'This might be my only chance.'

'Hardly,' Catelyn scoffed. 'You are my beautiful summer-born child, and any boy with half an eye would bend over backwards to bring you to the dance.'

Sansa was quiet for a moment.

'Sandor only has half a face.' she said quietly. 'I mean, he has such terrible burns on his face, he looks almost a monster.'

'Don't be unkind, Sansa.'

Sansa sniffed. 'I wasn't trying to be,' she said. 'He's not a monster, though. He's really quite kind, and gentle. He's my friend, I think.'

Catelyn pursed her lips. She didn't think it was wise, Sansa being friends with a boy who was clearly so violent.

'What happened to your knee?'

Sansa was silent for a few seconds, and alarm bells started ringing in Catelyn's head. It was definitely connected to the whole Joffrey business. Maybe even this Sandor was responsible.

'I fell in P.E.,' Sansa stood up. 'I'm going to do my homework.' she said, taking up her bag and leaving the kitchen. Catelyn frowned. She had seen Joffrey fleetingly once when she and Sansa were out shopping. While she could see what attracted Sansa, Sansa who loved Disney movies and stories about princesses in enchanted castles, Catelyn had thought there was something funny about the boy. There was a cruel look to his face.

A car coasted down the avenue and slid to a halt outside the Stark house. Catelyn watched her youngest daughter emerge from it, and frowned as a tall, fair-haired boy got out of the driver's side. Where's Gendry? She thought. The two of them were talking, not as animatedly as Arya and Gendry had that morning, but obviously a friendly enough conversation. Arya led him around the side of the house, where she could no doubt hear her brother playing with the dogs. The boy seemed slightly more polished than Gendry. Maybe Arya was turning her attentions towards him.

Catelyn sighed, and slipped little pieces of chopped onion into a sizzling pan. Thank God I put more rice on, she thought.