Author's Notes: This is a terribly short chapter, I know, but the next one will be much longer, I promise. I'm an awful person. And to answer CatelynStarkThroughAndThrough's question about whether I have more fanfics about Catelyn, yes, yes I do. Catelyn is probably my favorite or second favorite character. She's my favorite female character; that much is for certain. (You don't want to know my favorite; no one does.) Also, I've got this trend with my fanfics, where I ship Catelyn with ALL the characters. I write what people request, and it's fun. So, I've got this Catwin fic and another separate one, a main Catelyn x Stannis fic and another separate one, a few Catelyn x Ned fics, a few Catelyn x Brandon fics, a Catelyn x Jaime fic, and even a Catelyn x Theon fic. (I think I was conned into writing a Catelyn x Roose fic, too...) I really love writing about Catelyn, you could say.

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

In the Lion's Den
part vii

She was dressed in blues and reds and gold. It was the most elegant dress she had ever worn. When she had been married to Ned, the ceremony had been rushed and held a sense of urgency like one might a secret. The dress she had worn then had been meant for Brandon to see, not his younger brother, and the words had been meant for him as well. She had known Brandon longer than she had Ned, had been courted by the outgoing and brash young man, but it had been Ned Stark's cloak that had been put on her shoulders and Ned that she had gone to bed with after the ceremony. It was strange, but she couldn't remember what dress she was wearing on her wedding day. Despite growing to love Ned deeper than the Heart of Winter itself, their marriage ceremony itself had not been a good one.

They rarely were when they were mixed with funerals.

Today felt like a funeral to Catelyn Tully. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she did not see the Stark that she had become. King's Landing and the rest had done its best to strip that away from her. Though she felt tired and worn ragged, all of the maids had commented on how beautiful she looked. One had even sighed in hopes that she would remain as beautiful as Catelyn did when she was Catelyn's age. It had not been an insult; Catelyn felt older than her age, much older and much more tired. Her hair had been done up in the Southern ways that she had done as a child. It was a shinier red than she'd ever seen it before, like the red fall leaves that had started to float all over the city. They'd tried to put jewelry on her, but she had turned it away. She had never liked being flashy or wearing jewelry, something that had always amused Ned. He'd said that all Southern girls like their silver and gold, but she had been a true gem to find in the South.

He said that we would always be together, too, Catelyn thought as she walked through the hallways, guards on each side.

She had no one to give her away, she dimly realized and wondered who they might put in his place. The king, perhaps, but the king was a ten year-old boy. The only person she had known in King's Landing had been Petyr and he was gone; besides, she might have scratched his eyes out had she seen him, for what he'd done to Ned. This all left her at a loss as to what was going to happen. Seventeen years ago, she had married Ned, and she'd almost forgotten what a wedding must be like. The last one she'd gone to had been Edmure's, and… Catelyn closed her eyes, tears seeping out from underneath her eyelids.

No, I must be strong, like Ned, like my boys and my daughters were.

This was what Sansa must have felt like. Catelyn's heart ached for her daughter and at the thought of her being forced into a marriage with Tyrion Lannister. It had been difficult, but she'd managed to weasel bits of information out of her maids concerning the marriage since they had been given none at Riverrun. Rumors had been abound that Tyrion had not taken Sansa's maidenhead, though no one could say why. It had been enough to quench Catelyn's fears. She would not be so lucky. Tywin knew what must be done in order to seal a marriage. Catelyn did as well. She was not a dreamy and sweet child like Sansa, whose dreams of love and white knights had been dashed away by the Lannisters. Fish did not bode well when they were trapped in a lion's mouth.

When they entered the sept, Catelyn's breath was almost taken away. She knew that it wasn't nearly as done up as it had been for Joffrey's wedding to Margaery Tyrell and perhaps not even as much as Sansa's to Tyrion, but she knew beauty when she saw it and she could tell that many decorations had gone into this. Tywin Lannister was a powerful man and, though she did not want to think of it, Catelyn was a powerful woman. She had been married to the Warden of the North for sixteen years. Some might say that she had been the second most powerful woman in Westeros, next to the queen, though women weren't exactly considered when power was concerned. Ned had been different though. He'd talked with her about things, asked her opinion, and she had been more than pleased, even when she was young and idealistic, to answer and help her young and wary lord husband.

The hall was filled with people, spectators that she did not know but had come to see her wed. She forced herself to look straight, refusing to grant any of them glances. The time for that would come later. She would know their Houses, would learn their names, and she would damn every single one of them. She may have spent fifteen years in the North, but she was as fiery as the South, as she had been when she was younger.

"Lady Catelyn."

Catelyn looked aslant and saw that the person walking her to the marriage altar was none other than Jaime Lannister, shining brightly in his golden Lannister armor. She nearly laughed.

"It appears as if you have no friends in court to give you away," Jaime said, sounding a strange mixture of amusement and irritation.

"I have no need for friends here at court." She took his arm and began to walk with him, determinedly looking straight ahead. I am strong; I am brave.

Jaime looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. "They thought it would be…appropriate for me to do the honors, as I supposedly know you the best." The idea of it was so laughable that it made Catelyn want to cry. When she had been wed to Ned, her father had walked her to the marriage altar. She had been scared then too, not truly knowing Ned and only his older dead brother, but she knew what Tywin was capable of and it was very unlike her honorable Ned. "Did you know that I was supposed to marry your sister Lysa, before I joined the Kingsguard?"

"Yes, I found out before she did."

There were no emotions betrayed on Jaime's face. Like her, he had become practiced at hiding it. "It seems as if we were destined to be family in the end, except instead of being your good-brother, I am your good-son." They were a few steps away from the altar and Tywin, who she had not even deigned a glance out of spite. In a quiet voice that only she could hear, he said, "It's not right."

Those were to be the most honest, heart-felt, damning words she would ever hear from her good-son.

Catelyn stepped up to her place at the altar, leaving Jaime behind, and then looked up at her soon-to-be lord husband for the first time.

It took everything in Catelyn Tully not to react. Tywin Lannister looked…remarkably handsome. He'd trimmed his beard, so much so that it was nearly gone, and wore clothes of deep crimson slashed in gold. She had known that he was handsome, but she had never truly realized it until standing with him here now. There was a strange look in his eyes, his jaw set suddenly, and there was such determination on his face that it made her wonder if how badly he did not want to do this either. He had never remarried after losing his wife all those years ago; the grief of it had been too much, apparently.

During the entire ceremony, Catelyn kept her eyes trained on Tywin's, defiant and furious. She did not smile and neither did he. She could not tell anyone what happened during the ceremony or the words that were said. There were prayers and candles and she even spoke a few times, but the words vanished into the air the moment they left her lips, never to be known by another again. The ceremony seemed to pass her by without her even realizing it. She just kept picturing her children. She looked at Tywin and saw her life in Winterfell behind him: Robb shooting a bow for the first time and looking back at her proudly; Bran scaling walls though she'd told him not to a thousand times before; Sansa showing her a piece of beautiful embroidery she'd made; Arya riding her horse faster than the others; and Rickon, reaching out to her, a smile and a laugh on his face… They were calling for her, but she could not go to them. She was stuck in King's Landing, with the men that had killed them. "I miss you, I love you," she wanted to say, but only her marriage vows came out of her mouth.