So... it's been more than two months since the last time I updated. I'm sorry about that: I've been busy, I have plenty of other commitments, and I haven't been able to devote as much time to this fic as I would like. Alas, I suspect that this is going to be a regular thing from now on: I doubt that I'm going to be able to update more regularly than 'once every few months'. I hope you'll keep reading nonetheless.

Anyway, thanks to Raiseth (on SV) and Volossya (on AO3) for beta-reading this for me. Without their help, this chapter would make much less sense. I really appreciate it, both of you!

The Desolate Mother

When Katarina heard distant shouts echoing throughout the manor house, she knew that her parents were arguing again and that it was her fault. Because fate had decreed that her betrothal to Prince Jeord would end in murder rather than marriage, her father had needed to find himself another heir. He had chosen to adopt one of his distant cousins, a young boy named Keith, as his own son. This had so enraged his wife, Miridiana, that the Claes manor had been a battleground ever since.

As her vision blurred with unshed tears, Katarina blinked rapidly and turned away from the book she was reading. Sitting next to her, Sienna gave her a gentle smile and squeezed her hand, which was probably meant to be comforting or encouraging. Obviously, her best friend was doing her best to be helpful, which was why Katarina resisted the urge to sneer at her or say something spiteful. Instead, she turned back to her book, trying to lose herself in its pages; she wished that she could become part of the story, travel to distant lands and have thrilling adventures, just like Corlys Velaryon, Lemwell Grafton, or Sinbad the Dornishman.

Until about a year ago, when Maggy the Frog had told her of the terrible doom that awaited her, all of Katarina's favourite stories had been about courtly love and fairy-tale romances between handsome princes and beautiful princesses. While she read them, she used to fantasize about the perfect life she would have when she grew up to marry Prince Jeord. However, now she knew that it would never happen, her tastes had changed: she yearned to be free, to escape the chains of duty and destiny, and to see something of the world before she was forced to leave it.

Once, she'd had a voracious appetite for romance novels: stories of everlasting love, soulmates, and living 'happily ever after'. Now, she preferred the memoirs, biographies, and fictionalised accounts of great explorers and world travellers, who had journeyed as far as Sothoryos, Yi Ti, and even further afield. Most recently, she had been reading about Lemwell Grafton's adventures on the isles of Lillibet and Lahore, where the native people were so tiny that he seemed like a giant by comparison. She somewhat doubted that it was a true story, or that the faraway places in it were not entirely fictitious, but she kept reading nonetheless.

Just then, her bedroom door was flung open so hard that it rebounded off the adjoining wall. Her mother stood in the doorway, eyes glinting with rage, face streaked with tears, and the familiar reek of wine on her breath.

Trailing behind her, Katarina's personal maid, Anne poked her head into the room and said, somewhat unnecessarily, "Your mother has something to say to you, Katarina."

"My dearest, you have been told that you are going to have a new brother soon," said Miridiana, in a tone that was as sickly-sweet as the wine she had drunk. "But he won't really be your brother! He is your father's bastard with some mistress of his! For that reason, I… I feel that I should warn you: by their very nature, bastards are inherently treacherous. They are born from sin and so they will always be sinful. They can't help it."

"In that case, I suppose that I should… um, set a good example for him to follow?" said Katarina, inflecting it like a question. "Even though he was baseborn, Benedict Justman was one of the greatest kings the Riverlands ever had, so…" She took a deep breath and spent a moment considering what she was about to say next, trying to convince herself. "People can learn. They can change for the better." At least, she desperately hoped that that was true.

However, her mother wasn't listening to her. "He will take everything from you, leaving you with nothing!" she raged.

Blood pounding in her ears, Katarina remembered the words of Maggy the Frog: 'She will be pure and sweet and beautiful as a flower in springtime – and she will take from you everything you hold dear.'

"Well then, he'll have to get in line!" she snapped, more vehemently than she had intended. "I'm already destined to be murdered by my fiancé! What else can he – or anyone – do to me?!"

Her mother stared at her, dumbfounded. A strangled sob issued from her open mouth. All at once, she rushed forward, threw her arms around Katarina, and repeatedly murmured, "Oh, my dearest, I am so sorry! My dearest…"

Katarina went rigid. She didn't know how to react. Glancing around at Anne and Sienna, wishing that she dared to ask them for help.

Then, before she could recover from her consternation, her mother let go of her and fled from the room like a sinner trying to escape the seven hells.

For some time afterwards, there was only silence. Worried and bemused, Katarina stared after her mother, wishing that things could have been different. Sienna's eyes were downcast: she appeared to have shrunk in on herself, not wanting to intrude on the Claes family's private misery. Anne looked uncomfortable, as if there was something she dearly wanted to say, but she was at pains to remember that she was a servant and therefore shouldn't speak unless spoken to first.

"I think… my mother doesn't like my new brother, Lord Keith," said Katarina, at last, slowly and hesitantly.

"Really?" said Sienna, who had a habit of turning her discomfort into sarcasm. "What was your first clue?"

"I mean, I don't think she wants me to like him either."

Sienna shifted uncomfortably. "Well… that's up to you, isn't it?"

"I am being pulled in two different directions," said Katarina, after some consideration. "How can I possibly be loyal to both of my parents in these circumstances? I have no doubt that my father would want me to be a sweet and loving sister to his new son – but he hasn't told me that! Oh, how I wish that he would talk to me! I'm sure he thinks that everything he does is for the best, but why doesn't he take the time to explain any of it? No wonder my mother is so angry with him!"

"That isn't a good reason for her to dislike Lord Keith, though."

"Why not? As far as she is concerned, he is a usurper: he is a bastard child who has stolen her legitimate daughter's inheritance. Undoubtedly, it would please her if I took her words to heart: if I refused to speak to him, or was cruel to him, she would be delighted!"

"You won't do that, will you?" asked Sienna, looking anxious. "That would be wrong."

"Being cruel to anyone is wrong," said Katarina, as if reciting the words of a sermon: she remembered all the times in her young life when her parents and other adults had told her that a lady should be kind and compassionate. "Being cruel to the powerless is vile and sinful – Septa Selyse told me that one of the hells is reserved for nobles who abuse their smallfolk – but being cruel to the rich and powerful is the height of stupidity." She sighed forlornly. "No matter what I say or do to Lord Keith, he is my father's heir. I have no power to change that."

"So... you'll be nice to him?" Sienna surmised.

Katarina nodded. "Someday, he will be the next Duke Claes, one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in Sorcier. Then, if I have ever wronged him, he will have more than enough power to make my life a misery. And so, even if I don't like him, I will do my best to be pleasant to him. I will present to him a harmless, amiable face, so that he will never have cause to make my life any harder."

"You may come to like him," said Sienna. "Even if he is your father's illegitimate son, that doesn't mean he's evil. You said yourself, Benedict Justman was baseborn and he was one of the greatest kings the Riverlands ever had!"

"Throughout the history of Sorcier, there have been a great many evil men," said Katarina, absently. "Some of them were literal bastards. Others had the purest noble blood, untainted by…" Her voice trailed off into silence; she frowned, looking bemused as she struggled to remember the exact words of the adults who had told her why bastardy was an unforgivable sin. "Untainted by their parents not being married to each other?" She shook her head, trying to clear away her confusion.

"Such as the Mad King and Prince Rhaegar Darkflame?" Sienna suggested. "They were some of the worst."

"Yes, exactly." Katarina nodded. "Although, some would say that the reason why so many of the Targaryens were mad was because they practised incest."

"Oh, they didn't need to practise," said Sienna, with an impish grin. "They were already very good at it."

When she heard that, Anne burst into a startled coughing fit.

Katarina turned to her, alarmed, and said, "Anne, are you all right?"

"I… I'm fine." Anne wheezed and sputtered for breath. "I just… I didn't expect that from Sienna. She looks so innocent."

"Miss Sienna has a sly wit that she keeps carefully hidden, most of the time," said Katarina. "I suppose she thinks that it's not very ladylike." She rolled her eyes at that.

"I'm sorry, Anne," said Sienna, meekly.

"You'll never find a husband if people find out how keenly intelligent you are, my dear," Katarina warned her. "No man wants a wife who is cleverer than he is."

Muttering an indistinct reply, Sienna buried her face in her hands, blushing furiously.

Anne looked quizzically at Katarina. "Who told you that?" she asked, a note of indignation in her voice. A moment later, her eyes widened and she clapped her hands over her mouth, worried that she had spoken out of turn.

"My mother," Katarina admitted. "She said… Well, I usually pay attention to everything she says. I am a good and dutiful daughter, am I not?"

"Yes, you are, most of the time," Sienna agreed, sitting up and putting on a placid smile.

"Lady Katarina, it isn't my place to say anything," said Anne, taking a deep breath. "But…"

"Anne, you are one of the most important people in my life!" Katarina declared, thinking of how her faithful maidservant had accompanied her when she went to see Maggy the Frog, had overheard everything that dreadful old woman had said to her, and had received a frightening prophecy of her own. "Please, speak freely!" She patted the chair next to hers, smiled invitingly, and said, "Come, sit with us!"

Looking discomforted, Anne said, "I'd prefer to stand."

Katarina's smile faded somewhat, which had the effect of making it look rather less manically intense. "Very well, what is it that you want to tell me?" she asked.

"Your mother is…" A moment's hesitation. "Currently, she is overburdened with misery, worry and grief," said Anne. "I would advise you not to take her words to heart."

"'Grief'? Who is my mother grieving for?" asked Katarina, focusing her attention on the one word that Anne didn't want her to. "Is it grandfather? Is he sick?"

"I shouldn't have said that. Your parents don't want you to know, but… I think you need to know," said Anne, moistening her lips. "It's important."

There was another pause, filled with awkward silence.

"Well? You're being very mysterious, Anne," said Katarina, with a hollow laugh. "I'm sure we're both agog to hear whatever you have to say!"

She patted Sienna's upper arm, which made her turn pink.

"Um, yes!" the other girl squeaked. "Agog is the word!"

Anne closed her eyes, sighed regretfully, and whispered, "A few months ago, your mother had a miscarriage."

"A miscarriage?" Katarina stared blankly at her.

"When a woman is with child, it should be a joyous occasion, but… sometimes babies die before they ever have a chance to be born," Anne explained.

"Yes, I know what a miscarriage is!" Katarina snapped at her. Then, a moment later, she remembered herself: "I'm sorry, Anne! I didn't mean to be rude!"

"It's all right," her faithful maidservant reassured her. "I know that what I've just told you must have come as a shock."

"Indeed." Katarina nodded. "Oh, how awful! My poor mother! I wish that I had said or done anything to comfort her, closer to the time when it happened. But I didn't even know that she was pregnant!"

"She didn't want you to know, just in case."

"So… has this happened before?" asked Sienna, shrewdly. When Katarina gave her a disapproving glance, she flushed and said, "I mean, if it hadn't happened before, I don't see why she would have been so circumspect."

"I'm sure there could have been plenty of reasons!" Katarina protested, although she wasn't entirely sure what she was protesting or why she sounded so defensive.

"Nevertheless, Sienna is correct," said Anne. "I believe that this is the fourth or fifth time that it has happened."

When she heard that, Katarina gave a horrified gasp. "But why?" she asked, gazing up at the ceiling, as if imploring the heavens to answer. "My parents have one healthy daughter–" She indicated herself. "–so why can't they have another child?"

"We could ask Maester Pycelle," Sienna suggested. "He may know."

"Please don't let anyone know that I have told you this: your father will not be pleased if he finds out," said Anne, wringing her hands together and looking panicked.

Katarina recalled that her father had already threatened to have Anne 'sacked without references' once. That was my fault as well, she thought, dismally, remembering how she had bullied and cajoled her faithful maidservant into taking her to see Maggy the Frog. Everything that has happened since then has been my fault.

"I promise not to tell anyone," she said.

"As do I." Sienna nodded.

"I thank you both." Anne gave them a grateful smile. "Now, if you will excuse me, Lady Katarina, I have other duties to attend to…"

"Of course," said Katarina. "You may go."

Anne thanked her again and then scurried out of the room.

"When you asked her to sit down next to you, I think you made her uncomfortable," said Sienna, in the tone of someone who had been pondering this for a while.

"Maybe I did," Katarina admitted. "But why though? In all the stories I have read, for a noblewoman to treat her servants with care and respect was a sign of great virtue."

"You went too far," Sienna told her. "If she had accepted your invitation and then either of your parents had walked in, they would have seen her sitting with you, as if she were your equal. And then… um, your father already threatened to dismiss her once, didn't he?"

"Is that what she was afraid of?" Katarina wondered aloud. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to cause her any distress."

"You never do," said Sienna, in a tone of mingled fondness and irritation.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're a good person," said Sienna, leaning closer to her. "You always mean well, but you rarely consider the consequences of your actions until it's too late."

"That's not true," said Katarina, shaking her head. She felt a prickling sensation behind her eyes. "I'm a bad person. On the day that we met Maggy the Frog, I… I imagined that the destiny she had predicted for me wouldn't come true if I was the only one who knew about it. So, when you nearly fell down that well… I wanted to let you fall. I was tempted to push you in myself."

She began to weep. For a time, she was quite overcome: a waterfall of tears and snot cascaded down her face. "So… so… so, you can hate me now!" she cried, when at last she managed to speak.

"You didn't do it," said Sienna, throwing her arms around her, hugging her tightly, and passing her a handkerchief with which to mop her face. "You were tempted, but you didn't do it – and that's what's important! No one can blame you for the evil things that you haven't done!"

"How did you become so wise, my dear?" asked Katarina, smiling through her tears.

"I'm not. If I was, I never would have come with you to see Maggy the Frog," said Sienna. There was an unusual note of bitterness in her voice.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have involved you."

Sienna shook her head. "I chose to get involved. You didn't force me to do anything."

"But you've always been a good girl! It would never have occurred to you to visit Maggy the Frog if I hadn't invited you," Katarina pointed out. "And then you wouldn't have been cursed!"

"I suppose there's no way to know what would have happened if I'd made different choices," said Sienna. "Perhaps I would have died in an accident, fallen down a well, or been murdered by bandits… and you wouldn't have known about it until too late. You wouldn't have been able to save me, if Maggy the Frog hadn't warned you."

"Or you could have lived to a ripe old age, got married to a rich nobleman, and had plenty of children and grandchildren," said Katarina, running through the standard list of things that women were supposed to want.

Sienna sighed unhappily. "Never mind that," she muttered, resting her head on Katarina's shoulder. "This life isn't what I would wish for, but there are compensations."

They sat together, in companionable silence, for a while.

Eventually, Katarina decided that she had to wriggle out of Sienna's warm embrace so that she could get up, wash her face, and dispose of her sodden handkerchief in the nearest dirty laundry basket. A few minutes later, when she returned, she asked, "What should I do about Lord Keith? If it would make my mother feel better… should I be unpleasant to him? I know, it would be the wrong thing to do, but…" She closed her eyes for a moment. "I want her to be happy."

"Would it make her happy, though? For how long?" asked Sienna.

"Does it matter?"

"Well... it might give her some satisfaction, for a little while, but I'm sure that she'd forget about it soon enough. Whereas, if you make a bad first impression on Keith, he will remember it forever."

"That hardly seems fair," said Katarina.

"It's the way of the world. Doing good and having it mean something is… difficult," said Sienna. She began rifling through her book, looking for something: it was a weighty philosophical tome, of a type that she never would have read before Maggy the Frog had predicted her early death. Katarina had no idea why her best friend wanted to read such boring books, or what she was hoping to find in them, but it seemed like a harmless passtime and so she was willing to humour her.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, after the silence stretched on for long enough to make her feel uncomfortable.

"If you gave a coin or a loaf of bread to a beggar, he would thank you for your kindness, but it wouldn't change his life. He would forget about it soon enough, when he got hungry again," said Sienna, in a stilted manner that suggested she was paraphrasing something from the text she was reading. "But, on the other hand, people tend to remember when they have been wronged. They nurture their grudges, feed them with bitterness and spite, and pass them on to their children. That's why, in the Riverlands, the Brackens and the Blackwoods have been feuding for generations. No one knows what the original reason for their enmity was, but still it goes on."

"Um… I've heard several different accounts of why the Brackens and the Blackwoods hate each other so much," said Katarina, somewhat doubtfully.

Sienna glanced up from her book and smiled. "Exactly."

There was a pause. Katarina's brow furrowed in thought. At last, she said, "Well then, I think it'd be unwise of me to treat Lord Keith badly, even if that is what my mother would want. If he turns out to be as greedy, spiteful, and cruel as a bastard child from a cautionary tale…" She took a deep breath, blinked, and continued, "Even some of the worst men in the history of Sorcier had people that they loved and cherished."

"Oh, you want him to love you?" asked Sienna, raising an eyebrow. Her smile faltered.

"I hope that he will think of me as his beloved sister, whom he will always remember as having treated him with care and affection when he first arrived at this house," Katarina confirmed. "To that end, I will ingratiate myself with him. He will have no reason to think of me as a threat. No matter what my mother says, I will never do him any harm."

She thought about what would happen if she somehow avoided the death that Maggy the Frog had predicted for her. If, instead of killing her, Prince Jeord broke their betrothal so that he could marry someone else, she would be disgraced. All over the kingdom, people would gossip about what had happened to her: she would become an object of scorn and derision. No one would want to marry her, all of her friends would desert her, and she would be left alone to grow old and embittered.

Nevertheless, even if she became nothing more than a useless burden to her family, she would still need them to make sure that she was well-fed, clothed, and had a place to rest her head. Someday, Keith would be the next Duke Claes, the head of the family, and she would be utterly dependent on him for her means of subsistence. If she gave him any reason to dislike her, he would be within his rights to banish her from their home and force her to join the silent sisters.

If I live that long, she thought to herself, glumly. Maybe I won't.

"Death is coming for you tonight," Maggy the Frog had told Sienna, almost a year ago. Since then, Katarina had saved her best friend's life dozens of times, as had her father, various household servants, and Maester Pycelle, who seemed fascinated by her predicament. Against all the odds, she was still alive. Surely the prophecy had been thwarted by now?

And yet, her bad luck showed no sign of abating. There were times when Katarina dared not take her eyes off her, for fear of what might happen. Even though her prophesied death had been delayed by more than eleven months, she was no less accident-prone than she had been on the day when Maggy the Frog had made that fatal pronouncement.

Katarina dearly wished that she could save Sienna from the curse that hung over her like an executioner's axe, poised above her slender neck, ready to fall. Not only because she was her best friend, favourite playmate, and closest confidante, but because she hoped that, if she could free Sienna from the hell-forged chains that Maggy the Frog's prophecy had wrapped around her, she might be able to save herself as well.

A hesitant voice intruded into her reverie. "I'm sure Lord Keith will like you, if you make an effort to be nice to him," said Sienna.

"Do you think that he will be like a real brother to me?" asked Katarina, in a small voice.

"More than that… I'm sure he will find you just as captivating as I do," said Sienna, flushing red with embarrassment. "I will always remember the day when we first met. You were so… overwhelming."

Katarina didn't know how to respond to that, so she didn't. In truth, she couldn't remember when she had first met Sienna, who had been her friend and playmate for so long that she couldn't imagine what life would be like without her.

"I want him to like me," she said, rerouting the subject back to its original course. "I can't bear the thought of being hated. Not anymore."

"What makes you say that?"

There was a long pause while Katarina carefully considered what she was about to say. At last, she began, "Maggy the Frog seemed to think that I deserved to die because I was rude and unpleasant to her. She was positively gleeful when she described how, in defence of his one true love, Prince Jeord would cut my head off. It may be that I have no chance or hope of avoiding that fate, despite all of my efforts." She took a deep, sorrowful breath. "Nevertheless, if I must be killed by the man I once wanted to marry, I don't want anyone to say, 'She deserved it.'"

Sienna looked horrified and opened her mouth to speak, but Katarina pressed on, relentless:

"I want everyone to grieve for me, to remember that I was a good person, and to agree that I didn't deserve to be murdered. And so, I will be kind and patient even when Jeord dallies with lovely young maidens and makes a fool out of me. I will welcome Keith into this house as if he were my own brother – because, according to the King's latest decree, he is – and make him feel as beloved and valued as anyone could wish." Her voice wavered for a moment. "I don't know how I'll do it, but I will make sure that no one has a good reason to hate me."

"Would you like to be known as 'Katarina the Blessed'?" asked Sienna, putting on a grimace that was probably meant to be a teasing smile. "It sounds as if you want the Faith to acclaim you as a holy woman."

"That would be nice," Katarina murmured, gazing at the wall without really seeing it.

"In that case, you should probably cultivate a reputation for piety," said Sienna, trying and failing to make a joke of it. "That'd mean spending more time in your family's sept: praying, listening to sermons, reading The Seven-Pointed Star, and so on."

Katarina wrinkled her delicate nose at that. "Oh, I wouldn't go that far, my dear," she said. "It's possible to have too much of a good thing."

Author's Notes:
There is a certain type of HameFura fic, which might as well have the subtitle 'If you liked HameFura but wish Katarina Claes was more of a Mary Sue, you'll love this fic!', in which Katarina is able to instantly reconcile her parents by saying to her mother, "You know Keith isn't actually father's bastard son, right?" And then Luigi and Miridiana have lots of sex and she gets pregnant and nine months later Katarina has a new baby brother or sister with a curiously period-inappropriate name and, uh... well, I didn't want to write a fic like that. No, I wanted to make my story rather more bittersweet: even if Luigi and Miridiana are able to repair their relationship, they're not going to be able to have any more children.

Anyway, on that cheerful note... I guess I'll see you in another couple of months? In the next chapter, I'll focus on Keith and give him a proper introduction. Look forward to that!