IV.
Sisters & Promises.
Catelyn.
The next morning Robb and Sansa come bursting into their parents' chambers, chattering excitedly about their new little sister.
The Robb helps to lift little Sansa onto the bed before he clambers up after her.
"What's her name?" Robb asks.
"Arya, for your grandmother," Ned tells him.
"And the queen! Queen Arya Stark ruled the North before Aegon and his dragons came. She was the only Queen to rule the North in her own right. Does this mean baby Arya is going to be a queen too?"
"That's not fair!" Sansa pouts. "I want to be the queen!"
"Arya isn't going to be a queen, sweetling." Her mother assures her. "She's going to be a lady."
"She doesn't look like a lady," Robb remarks.
"Lady's have beautiful long hair," Sansa adds in a matter of fact tone. "And she's bald, except for some black hair in the middle."
Ned laughs. "Her hair will grow. When you were born, you didn't have any hair at all."
Robb laughs at this and Sansa sticks her tongue out at him. "It's rude to mock a lady." She tells him a prim tone.
"But it's fun to mock my sister." He quips back, a twinkle in his eye.
Catelyn sighs and cuts Sansa off before she has a chance to respond. "Go run along, both of you."
"Yes, mother."
They scamper off the bed and out the door. Robb exits the room, tugging Sansa's hand. "Come on, let's go play. Sansa can be the maiden in the tower and I'll be the knight who rescues her. And Jon can be the dragon!" It is then that Catelyn notices Jon standing in the doorway. The boy turns to follow the redheads but Catelyn stops him. "Jon." She calls out, "come here."
"Can we still play without him?" Sansa asks, looking up at her older brother.
Robb nods and takes Sansa hand, heads down the corridor. "Of course, we'll just ask Theon to play instead. He can be the dragon, or maybe a sea monster!"
Sansa giggles and their footsteps fade down the hall.
Jon looks up nervously, unaccustomed to having the Lady of Winterfell address him so directly. Up until then Catelyn has always made a point to ignore the boy simply doing her best to pretend that the bastard didn't exist. "Come here and meet your new sister."
Jon glances to Ned unsure, but his father only nods. "Go on."
He walks over, his eyes hesitant.
"It's alright." The woman reassures him. "Sit down."
The dark-haired boy sits on the edge of the bed, as far away from Catelyn as he can.
"You can't hold her if you're all the way down there, now can you?" The boy shakes his head and scoots closer. "Hold out your arms." Jon does as he is bid.
Then Catelyn careful places the infant in his arms showing him how to support her head and instructing him to hold her close. He stares down at the red-faced bundle in awe. Arya waves her fist at him before clutching on to his finger with a steel grip. A laugh bubbles from her mouth, as does Jon's.
"She likes you."
Ned watches them, a look of sorrow and nostalgia on his face, as he sinks down onto the bed next to Catelyn, who leans back into him.
"She doesn't look like Robb and Sansa." The young boy remarks, not tearing his gaze away from the squirming bundle in his arms.
"You're right. She takes after her father, she has the Stark look while Sansa and Robb look more like my family."
Ned looks at the scene before him with wistful eyes. "She looks like Lyanna." He whispers, his voice cracking at the last syllable.
"They both do," Catelyn replies.
Ned's eyes leap from the children to look at his wife.
But Catelyn avoids her husband's gaze and turns back to the young boy in front of her. "Look to me, Jon."
The little boy looks at her, expression solemn and at that moment, he looks so like Ned. But Catelyn can see the subtle differences between the two. The Jon's cheeks bones and jaw are more delicate and refined, while Ned and Brandon and Benjen's were squared and harsher. The shape of his eyes is different too, less round, she can see a faint trace of violet amidst the grey in his eyes when the sunlight hits them. "Arya is your little sister and it is your responsibility to protect her. Can you do that?"
The boy nods, looking far too serious for his age. "Yes, my lady. I promise."
She smiles at him. "Good." Jon's gaze returns to Arya and Catelyn smoothes his curls.
"Your fifth name day is today, is it not?"
"Yes, my lady, that is correct. It's almost the same as baby Arya's."
"Now, I know Robb was gifted sword for his name day a few moons back, and that you would like one as well, but I thought perhaps we could gift you something else."
The boy looks crestfallen at the news that he would not be receiving a sword like his half-brother, though he does his best to hide his disappointment. "Of course. Whatever you believe is fitting, my lady."
"I was thinking, that instead of a sword, a name. How about Jon Stark. Would you like that?"
The boy's expression changes in an instant, his eyes bright and he nods vigorously, his smile threatening to eclipse his face. "Yes, I would like that very much!"
"It's settled then. Now, your sister needs her rest. Go run along and play with the others."
The boy places Arya back in her mother's arms with such tenderness and care, that Catelyn's can feel her heart clench. "Thank you, my lady." She smiles at the boy and gives a small nod before he runs out of the room as fast as his small legs can carry him.
"Robb! Robb! You will never guess what I am getting for my name day! It's even better than your sword!" The boy shouts down the hallway.
