Chapter 5
When Catelyn went down to the great hall that night for supper, she knew Ned wouldn't be there. He had been in the Bastards room all day, having his meals served to him. Catelyn looked across the hall and decided to sit with the High Born Lords and their wives. She tried to carry her end of conversations but she felt exhausted. She said her goodbye's and left the hall. As she moved through out the halls of Winterfell she noticed a solemn feeling over the castle. Since Ned and the boys had come back, the atmosphere around Winterfell was grave. Catelyn couldn't understand the change. It was the Bastard who was ill, not the Lord of Winterfell. Why should everyone else care about the motherless child. When people talked to her, they held sympathy for the boy they had ignored for six years. No one truly cared for the boy but Ned and Robb. Shw was on her way to Sanza's room. Her daughter had been with a maid for the later half of the day. She missed Sanza. Her thoughts were interrupted when a figure crashed into her, knocking her to the floor. Catelyn saw the figure to be that of Theon Greyjoy.
"I'm sorry Lady Stark I was sent to find you and bring you to Jon's chambers. Lord Stark says you should come now." Upon closer examination Catelyn saw his expression was that of terror. "Theon there is no need to be scared, you only bumped into me. But do not do that again. I forgive you this time young man." Theon was a few years older than Robb. He had started to grow tall already at his young age. "Pardon Lady Stark that's not why I'm a bit nervous. I am sorry for knocking you down though. It's Jon you see. The Maester said he took a turn for the worse. His fever is rising and he's having trouble breathing. Lord Stark is not taking it well. He needs you with him." Catelyn was suprised. Theon had never taken a liking to the Bastard in the past. He always made fun of the boy and called his unknown mother a whore. Jon never stood up to Theon. He took whatever the Iron born said. But now the boy was showing genuine concern for the Bastard.
Catelyn began walking to the Bastards rooms. The were in the tower, higher than Robbs or even her own chambers. The journey to the top of the tower was especially difficult for her today. She was tired as it was and felt her energy draining. Finally she reached the top of the stairway and looked at the door. It was partially open and she could see a candle making shadows on the walls. As she got closer to the room she could hear the hushed voices of Ned and the Maester. When the door creaked open, all eyes in the room turned to her. Theon ran in front of her to where Robb was sitting beside the bed. She had forgot about Theon. Catelyn made her was over to Ned. Her husband looked exhausted. He looked like he had been awake for days, his eyes closing every so often only to jolt awake again. The Maester looked the same. He had been with the Bastard the longest, only taking short breaks. "Ned you look terrible. Go to our chambers and sleep. The same to you Maester, go to bed. I will watch the boy. If anything happens I will send for you both. Now go" Catelyn put an authorized voice while saying this. She knew they would both need to be persuaded to leave the sick boy. upon leaving the Maester pulled Catelyn to the side. "If he makes it through the night, he will survive. But it will be a long night."
After more ordering the two men left, leaving Catelyn alone with Robb, Theon, and the Bastard. Catelyn walked over to her son and took him in her lap. "Robb it's time for bed. You can come back tomorrow. You as well Theon. It's been a long day for you both." She kissed her son good night and watched as the two boys left the room.
Now Catelyn was left alone in the room with the Bastard. She could see the spots over his body. He was in a deep sleep, with a rag over his forehead. She remembered that the boy had a rising fever. She took the cloth and put it in the water bucket. As she rung it out she could hear the boy whimpering. She put the cloth back over his forehead watching drops of water pouring from the cloth. The boy began to cough lightly. As she sat beside the child she had cursed, she couldn't help but feel bad. The boy of six was laying on his back, cloth over his forehead. How could a woman, a mother, wish this upon any child? Especially one who had no mother to love him. She had become what she feared. A monster.