Author's Notes: Good day, everyone! I hope your weekends are going well. Thank you all so much for reading, leaving your comments, giving your Kudos and alerts! You guys are fantastic! Also, wow, way to put on your thinking caps. I saw quite a lot of speculation going on. It's going to be hard to slip something past all of you.

I'd like to thank catzrko0l for being beta for this chapter. I really appreciate your skill and TDR is better for having you on board!

Chapter 59

Catelyn III

His name will be Cassian.

Lord Jaime Lannister

Catelyn pursed her lips in annoyance. Cassian what?! Was the bastard to be a Hill? Or would he be left up in the North, a rejected stain on the Lannisters to be a burden to the Starks? That seemed doubtful with the way Lord Jaime had commanded her to dote on his bastard son.

The babe had arrived barely a week ago. Since the castle was quiet with so few left to manage it, even a small party of a dozen had attracted everyone's attention, including Lady Catelyn's. As soon as she realized it was the babe's arrival, she wished she could've ducked back into the castle and returned to Bran's bedside. When she saw the bundle wrapped in the wetnurse's arms, she went stiff and could not hide the disdain from her face.

When the wetnurse was lowered to the ground, she had a warm smile on her face, but it wilted at her frosty glare. She looked quite young for a usual wetnurse, just a few years past her maiden's blood, likely in her position after producing her own bastard.

The bundle was open at the face and Catelyn glanced over to see pale skin and golden hair. The boy's eyes were still blue and they peered up at her in curiosity. He had been feeding well, judging by the plumpness of his cheeks. By all accounts, he appeared a perfectly normal baby, if unnaturally blessed by his parents' beauty. She struggled to keep from curling her lip in disgust.

"My Lady's Maid shall show you to yours and the babe's quarters. You will stay in your wing of the castle and you may only enter the Main Hall if you are unaccompanied by the babe. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my Lady," the woman said in a small voice and her head remained bowed.

With that, Catelyn returned to her vigil at Bran's bedside. He had been awake for a couple of weeks now, but Maester Luwin insisted that he stay abed while his head wound healed. It broke her heart to see her son strain to look at the room yet see only darkness. The Gods were cruel to handicap such a bright boy. Now he would no longer be the knight he had long dreamed of. She indulged in her pity as she took in his pale face, his expression disgruntled in boredom. She saw him reach for his direwolf, Storm, and gently stroke his head. Normally, she did not approve of the direwolves sharing the bed, but she conceded out of concern for Bran, who had already suffered so much.

She crumpled up the parchment sent by the Kingslayer and placed it on the bed stand next to where she sat.

"Mother, I can sense your frustration. What is it?"

"Nothing, my sweet. You need not trouble yourself."

"Didn't you say you were answering letters? I am the Stark of Winterfell while father and Robb are away. Tell me."

"It truly is nothing you need to worry yourself about. It's a special task meant only for me."

She grew cross at the knowing look on his face. "You're talking about the new babe?" Her silence was answer enough. "Mother, I may be blind now, but no one else in the castle is. They've told me. It's Jaime Lannister's bastard by his sister when she—"

"Don't say it," she snapped. "That vileness was committed in our House and we are forced to endure that evil in the form of that babe. And that's Lord Jaime or Lord Hand. I will not have you calling the King's Hand by his given name within earshot of nobility."

"Yes, Mother. But it's just a baby!"

"It's a bastard of an unholy union. What have I told you? Bastards are never to be trusted. They wait in foxholes, ready to attack any trueborn gullible enough to befriend them."

Bran's frown grew terse. "That's what you said about Jo—King Aemon. He didn't turn out to be a bastard."

"Not all bastards are kings in disguise, nor should they be. They are born with a thirst that can only be quenched with the blood of a trueborn. Never let your guard down around a bastard."

Though he was not seeing, his eyes still locked with hers and there was a stubborn jut to his jaw. "That's not true, mother. If that were true, then why didn't King Aemon try to kill us?"

"Because he ended up not being a bastard," Catelyn replied with a frustrated sigh.

"But he was known as a bastard. If Father hadn't told him his true heritage, he would've remained being known as a bastard."

"But he wasn't a true bastard. Just because your father hid him as one does not mean that he contained the greed and avarice of a normal bastard."

Catelyn could tell by the furrow of his brow and the spark of anger in his eyes that he still didn't believe her. Only Sansa had been a good girl and listened to her mother. She had fretted over Robb growing so close to Jon as babies and had intervened often, though Ned had frequently headed her off. She should thank him for attempting to protect her from the wrath of the Gods. No doubt they would've been angered by her continued treatment of the true king if it had persisted past the point he reached majority. She had prayed to the Seven everyday for saving her from that fate.

Now if only she could save her family from the waterfall that King Aemon appeared to be steering them towards, with Lord Jaime as his First Mate. She felt like Ned should be keeping a closer eye on the Lannisters. She didn't know what could possibly have driven the king to heed Lord Jaime's advice over his own uncle's, but it was sure to end in disaster.

She picked up the next letter in her lap and her heart shuddered to a stop at the familiar Tully seal in blue wax. Her fingers brushed over it lovingly and it pained her to break the seal. She unfurled it and read:

Lady Catelyn Stark née Tully

It pains me to inform you that your dear father, Lord Hoster Tully, is ill and his time among us grows short. When he is of sound mind, he asks for you. If you could find it in you to visit his Lord one more time, he shall pass peacefully.

Maester Vyman

She felt her breath catch in her throat and tears well up in her eyes. Father, no! A tear fell onto the parchment and soaked in.

"Mother? Is something wrong?"

Catelyn straightened up and struggled to control her voice. "Now why would you think that?" But there was a tightness to her voice she could not hide.

"You seem upset. I heard your breathing change and your voice...it's not Father, is it?"

"No, sweet one. Not your father."

Bran frowned pensively and seemed to be looking for the answer. Then he asked, "Your father?"

Her smile trembled. "Yes, my father is...ill. Maester Vyman believes it is only a matter of time before he passes."

"You should go see him. You last saw your father when my father came back from the war, right?"

"Very good. You remember well," she said, reaching out to stroke his hair.

He beamed but tried to duck the stroking. "Mother, I'm not a baby anymore."

"You'll always be my baby, sweet one." She looked down at the letter as it trembled in her hand. Her heart did indeed long to see her father one last time. Tears were already welling up in her eyes at the thought of being forever parted in just a short amount of time. Though her wedding had not been the happiest of affairs, her father had done his best to smile for her and reassure her as she married the Quiet Wolf instead of her long betrothed, Brandon Stark.

Eddard Stark had been such a sharp contrast to the jovial and brash Brandon. She missed Brandon's laugh and his smile the most. Looking up into the grim countenance of Eddard Stark, she wondered if he'd ever laughed in his life. He had tried to smile at her, but it was frail and his face was shadowed with his losses. Her fear seems foolish in hindsight. He was a Stark, just as pure and honorable as his brother and father had been.

"Mother, when can I get out of bed? I'm tired of lying here."

She shook herself from her thoughts and said, "When the Maester says you can and no sooner! You took quite a bump to the head. He wants to make sure you are fully healed."

He gave a gusty sigh and flopped back onto the bed. Storm, his direwolf, grumbled with him. There was silence for a moment as she picked up her sewing and continued to create a new ermine cloak for Rickon.

Bran finally spoke and said, "Mother, may I speak to Lady Meera and Jojen?"

"Of course you may. I'll have a servant fetch them. Be good, my sweetling," Catelyn said with all of the warmth she could muster. Then she picked up the letters and her sewing, and left. She returned to the solar and deposited the parchment onto the desk when she noticed one that she hadn't opened. She picked it up and saw the Lannister seal once more.

With some trepidation, she broke the seal and unfurled it as well.

Cassian,

The circumstances of your birth may be less than pleasant, but you are no less a son to me. Lannister blood runs through your veins. Bastard or no, you will grow up to be a lion. It is a mantle that every Lannister must bear and I know you'll bear it well. Be good. I will come for you one day.

Your father, Jaime Lannister

She stared at the letter and then huffed. She would pity the poor woman that found herself as Lady Lannister. This reeked of usurping his own firstborn for the favored son. She was sorely tempted to simply stick the letter in a fire, but she controlled the compulsion. After all, she had made a promise to Lord Jaime that she would read these letters. He was just a babe, only a month old or so at this point. It's not like he would leap out of the crib and put her family to the sword at any moment.

Simmering in anger, she began walking to the guest quarters where all of the Lannister bastards stayed. To get her mind off of the topic, she thought back to the letter Maester Vyman had sent her regarding her father and she began to crumble once more. My father needs me. What sort of daughter would I be to fail to heed his call? He's never even met any of my other children, she thought and it made her heart weep.

I could take Rickon to see him. One last time, I will see my father and he will meet another grandson. It should please him that his bloodline will continue and so strongly at that, she thought. I shall make preparations to leave. Once Bran is cleared by Maester Luwin, then we'll be on our way. Few things cheered her as much as that thought.

Catelyn sighed when she reached the door to the babe's room and pulled it open. She stopped in the doorway and stared at Joffrey Waters. He was dressed in his heavy cloak and there was a shine of water on his clothes and hair from the chilling rain falling outside. He was standing over the crib, looking down into it. Unlike his sisters, he was not cooing and pulling faces, but he was as silent as the grave.

"What are you doing?" She said.

He jumped and she heard a great thumping noise. She looked down and her eyes grew wide as she saw a chunk of rock as big as a man's fist settle on the ground. The babe, who had been silent, began to wail and Joffrey turned to her with a mixture of guilt and panic on his face.

"N-nothing. I was doing nothing!"

Catelyn locked eyes with him again and she felt her heart drop like the stone. "You were going to kill your brother?!"

"N-no! No, I wasn't!"

"Cursed are the kinslayers!"

"He's not my brother! He's a mistake! It's his fault! Everything is his fault!"

"Out! Out!" She turned to the corridor and cried, "Guards!"

In a matter of moments, a pair of Winterfell soldiers were at the door. "Escort Joffrey Waters to his room. You will stand guard there until I see fit to let him out. His meals will be delivered to him for the time being."

The guards swooped him and grabbed Joffrey by his arms and began dragging him out.

He cringed at their presence, but soon began blubbering, "I didn't do anything! You can't do this to me! Let me go!"

Catelyn watched until she could no longer see him and his haunted cries trailed after him. In panic, she rushed over to the child, who was squalling and red-faced in his cries. She scooped him up and whispered at him, cooing and rocking him. Soon he settled and peered up at her with sad blue eyes. She stared and smoothed the tuft of golden hair back down on his head.

"My Lady, what has happened?!"

She turned to the wetnurse, the spell broken. "Where were you?"

"I was taking my midday meal, my Lady. The babe was sleeping."

"His brother nearly killed him!"

The wetnurse went pale and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

"From this day forth, you are not to be out of the presence of this babe unless I send you away. Is that understood?"

The wetnurse nodded vigorously.

"Now get out! I must be alone with the child."

The wetnurse didn't hesitate to scurry away.

Catelyn settled into the rocking chair with the babe. He was dozing once more. "You may be a bastard, but the Seven willing, you will live while you are in this household lest I bring the wrath of your Lord father Jaime Lannister down on our heads."

/\/\/\

Author's Notes: Thanks, everyone, for reading!

For those who were interested, I did end up creating that Discord. Feel free to drop a line and say hello!

h tee tee pee sss : / / discord . gg / qjbTnGW

I have to write it like that because FF hates URLs. The beginning is phonetic, it's just individual letters.