Author's Notes: On tumblr, this chapter was split into two parts, but I realized that they were pretty small, so for here, I decided to be nice and just combine this into one chapter. It was just better that way.

Disclaimer: GRRM owns all of these characters and also my soul.

In the Lion's Den
part vi

In the next few weeks, Catelyn had found that she had more freedom. She'd spent two days in her room, not even thinking about it, until one day she randomly tried the door and it opened. When she'd peered outside the door, she'd found that there wasn't even a guard watching over her. She hadn't known what to make of it at first. Certainly there had been no thoughts on escaping, considering it would've been ridiculous, but she'd felt it strange. The third day, she ventured out and started for the sept. No one stopped or followed her. She passed people, but they all seemed to ignore her, as if she was a ghost.

Once she reached the sept, Catelyn couldn't help but hesitate when trying to decide which candle to light. She had always connected with the Mother, even as a child in Riverrun. After her own mother had passed, she had lit candles to the Mother and would send quiet prayers to her mother's spirit. All of her hopes and dreams went to the Mother that she never had growing up. But now… All of her babies, her beautiful babies – they were all gone, all except for Sansa, who had vanished into thin air like Arya and would probably never be returned to her. When Catelyn looked at the Mother now, all she saw was Death.

There was the Crone, who could guide her with wisdom. Catelyn needed all the help she could get; and she needed the light to guide her through this darkness. Still, she felt no real connection with the Crone. The Father? It brought memories of Ned and her father to mind. The Maiden? No, Catelyn was no innocent. She still felt as if Robb's blood was on her hands. She felt the ache of guilt at not being there when Bran and Rickon were murdered. And she had let Ned and the girls go South all those years ago. She had never felt a true connection to the Smith.

Of course, there was the Stranger… Catelyn walked to the Stranger, looking it in the face, and lit a candle. She felt like a stranger in her own skin and in this city. She hoped he would guide the spirits of her lost loved ones and even her. The Stranger had always been a darker figure of the Faith, but she felt a pull to him now that she never had before. She'd lost herself. She'd felt shattered after Ned's death; beaten down when she realized that she could not get her girls back; and Bran and Rickon's death had left her barely together. Robb's death had pushed her over the edge, into the Stranger's waiting arms.

She was about to leave when she caught sight of the Warrior. She had never had a pull towards the Warrior until Brandon's death and she'd been married to Ned. When Ned had gone off to fight Robert's war, she had gone to the Warrior and prayed for Ned's safety. She could not suffer another loss and the Warrior would guide the men. She had taken to the Warrior even more after Robb had called the banners and then when he was crowned King in the North. The Warrior was normally a god for the men; the Maid for the women.

But Catelyn had never been a Maid, at least not in that sense. Catelyn Stark was a warrior, and she would need all the strength she had left in her soul. She lit two candles for the Warrior and looked up into the statue's handsome face.

"So, I hear you're about to become my mother-in-law," a voice rang from behind her.

Catelyn wheeled on her feet, only to find Jaime Lannister himself standing before her, leaning against a column. He looked very different from the last time she'd seen him: clean, his blond hair short but growing, in his Lord Commander white armor, and, of course, his golden hand. "Ser Jaime Lannister," she said politely, nodding at him.

"Lady Catelyn," Jaime responded. His tone was gentle. She knew that he could be genial when he wanted to be, but she doubted that he ever wanted that. Jaime Lannister was great at pushing people away, as she had found out when he'd been her son's captive. "I can already see that there are going to be a lot of confusing feelings. This is going to become complicated, most of all for you. I know I wouldn't want to marry my father."

"I should hope not," Catelyn snipped, unable to contain herself. "You're already sleeping with your sister."

Jaime smirked slightly and watched as Catelyn turned pink. "Feisty, now, are we?" He pushed himself away from the column and walked towards her, his golden hand resting on the hilt of his sword. It appeared as if everyone was doomed to lose something in this war, but then again, that was what war was. It took what it wanted and gave nothing in return. "You'll be a part of this wonderful Lannister family in no time. I hate to tell you, but we're not exactly a happy-go-lucky bunch. We're not like you Starks or Tullys; apparently we're more apt to stab ourselves in the back than our enemies."

"No, I think you're excellent at both."

The amused look left Jaime's face, replaced by something strange – serious, maybe even regretful. "I am sorry for your loss, Lady Catelyn, and for what my father is putting you through."

Catelyn raised her chin. "I do not need your pity."

"No, I don't think you do, but I wish you would accept my apology for failing you." Jaime sounded sincere, something she hadn't been sure he was truly capable of.

She narrowed her eyes, looking at him shrewdly. "Failing me?"

Her words only seemed to exasperate him further. His lips twitched, as if unsure whether they were supposed to form a smirk or a frown. The Kingsguard were famous for remaining passive, even in the face of strong emotions. Perhaps his time in captivity away from King's Landing had stripped him of this ability for brief moments. "I swore that I would return your daughters to you, but when I came here, they had both vanished. And once here, I was too selfish to leave, so all I did was delegate the task to Brienne." He actually sounded somewhat ashamed or at least embarrassed, but he didn't look away from her. He looked at his flaws head on and he dealt with them as honestly as he could. As if being honest with someone seemed too much, Jaime switched back to his old self, adding, "I'm sure my lord father has already thought of giving you new and improved Lannister children to replace the ones that you lost. He can't buy your loyalty with gold, but maybe with children…"

Catelyn wanted desperately to slap him, but more strongly, she wanted to rush out of his sight and weep.

"You should rest, Lady Catelyn, for your wedding," Jaime told her. He looked away from her and back to the castle from which he came. "This will be a longer winter for you than anyone else, I imagine, and the Court will be filled with crueler things than lions."

Nodding her head, Catelyn left Jaime and returned to the room that she knew she would miss, despite it being ridiculous. She would be a widow for just two more nights and then would sleep in the Hand's quarters. It had been so long since she had shared a bed with someone, not since Ned was still in Winterfell. The empty spot beside her had been a source of pain, but it was not something she wanted to be filled, especially by Tywin Lannister. She gripped the sheets tightly, nearly ripping them, and fought the wave of tears and grief that threatened to swallow her whole.

In the end though, Catelyn could not take it; and she screamed and ripped the sheets in half and sank to her knees, the blue and red cloth falling all around her in a puddle on the cold stone floor. She pressed her face into the mattress and sobbed, her anger and anguish mixing together in her heaving chest until everything hurt. This would be the last time she'd allow herself to show such feelings, even in private; this would be the last time she'd allow herself to collapse and fall to pieces.

After this, she would be a woman wed – she would become a Lannister – and the Stranger would take over her.