284 AC Kings Landing Catelyn Tully I
The Queen watched Lord Stark and his Grace clasp arms and then the King pull the Warden of the North into a bear hug. The outer Bailey of the Red Keep was filled with courtiers and various nobles and hangers on to watch the departure of Lord Stark, his betrothed and her father, along with a large contingent of northerners and Red Cloaks.
The departure of the Stark's and Lannister's had been delayed by several days due to the shocking murder of Lord Petyr Baelish, who had been found in a dark and hidden corner of the Red keep, his throat slashed open, along with the body of a servant of the Red Keep, similarly murdered. Poor Petyr had come to the Red Keep at the invitation of Lord Arryn from his duties at Gulltown in order to assist the Hand of the King with assessing some of the ideas that Lord Stark had proposed for the North and for the Riverlands. Petyr was to examine them and to see if they made sense and to their likely commercial success. But before Lord Petyr had even had a chance to meet with Lord Stark he had been brutally murdered. Lord Varys, the Master of Whispers had set his 'little birds' to the task of finding Petyr's murderer, and the Gold Cloaks had scoured the City looking for any leads. Poor Lysa had been inconsolable, she had always been much closer to Petyr than she had been, and her sister had taken to her bed for the day, as she had done every day since Petyr had been found in a pool of his own blood, his throat cut to the bone of the spine.
Ned next came to stand in front of her, bringing her out of her reverie. He bowed and then knelt to kiss her hand before standing again and saying "Your Grace, we must take our leave of the Red Keep, I hope it is not too long before we meet again."
"Indeed Lord Stark, we too hope that it is not too long before you grace us with your presence" said Catelyn with a sincerity that she did not feel.
At that Ned nodded his head and made his way down off the small dais and back towards the travelling party.
Next up was Cersei Lannister, resplendent in red and golden silks to pay her respects.
'Bitch' hissed Catelyn in her mind, oh how she hated and envied the little blonde Lannister chit. Next she was being complimented by Tywin Lannister and a few more of the combined Westerland's and Northern party before the brief ceremony was over. Robert decided to add a few words of his own in that booming, annoying voice of his.
She cast her eyes over the crowd, seeking out Ned Stark. There he was, and standing beside him was Cersei Lannister, the cunt was standing casually close to Ned, probably close enough to feel him against her flank.
Memories flooded her mind, the way Brandon had made her feel, the so called 'wild wolf', a dashing, wild and exciting man whom she had been betrothed to. Then came the horror of the news of his execution by the Mad King, and the equally startling news that she was to be wed to Ned Stark. She had met Ned at Harrenhal and he had suffered badly in comparison to his older and more handsome, dashing brother.
But the Ned Stark that had turned up at Riverrun had in no ways been the shy, quiet boy she remembered. That boy was replaced by a man, a man confident and strong, with a hard and lean body and the looks of a warrior about him. Her uncle Brynden had swore the Stark was the 'Warrior made flesh' after seeing him spar that first morning, and she had to agree with her uncle. She had gotten up early and had sneaked to a balcony overlooking the training yard; she had hung back in the shadows of the balcony and observed below.
Ned had strode in, not with the swagger that Brandon had had, but with something different, with the poise of a man much older, much more confident than that of the young man that she saw. He had started to limber up and then had proceeded to demolish any and all opponents who had come against him. Catelyn had observed her uncle sparing on occasion, for her uncle doted on her and indulged her sometimes in this request.
Lord Eddard Stark was in a league of his own with his sword work, fast, so fast that his blade seemed to shimmer and be made of light and not steel, each strike a blur that was often only seen as the briefest of after images on ones eye. Opponent after opponent was disarmed with ease or struck with a blow that would be fatal is live steel had been used. Then the Stark had taken to wielding two blades and challenging multiple opponents, dispatching these with equal ease. Eventually uncle Brynden called a halt to proceedings, the Stark laughed and clasped arms with everyone he had spared with, sharing brief conversations with the men at arms and household knights that he had just defeated with a contemptuous ease.
He then stripped off his training gambeson and the shirt below, revealing a chest and stomach rippling with muscles, before taking a bucket of proffered water had pouring it over his head, to run in rivulets over his sculpted, taut body. Catelyn had fled the balcony, her heart racing and a tingling sensation causing her belly to tremble and clench.
When later they all sat down to break their fast she could not keep her eyes off the new Lord Stark, she knew her father had promised Lysa to Lord Arryn but she, she was now promised to the man who even sitting twenty feet from her, made her heart flutter and her body flush.
And then everything had fallen to pieces, her dreams crushed. Lord Stark had wed another in secret; he had wed no other than Ashara Dayne, the legendary Dornish beauty whom she had met at Harrennhal. She had spent days in her room in tears, refusing to come out, refusing even to eat. She had only emerged when Ned Stark had left for the North to gather his banners.
She had spent the rebellion in Riverrun but towards the end as the forces of the rebels had closed in on Kings Landing she had been moved to a castle of a knightly House sworn to House Lollistion, located at the tip of the Riverlands where it abutted against the Reach and the Crownlands. She did not know why she had been sent there, as nobody told her anything. Until one day she had been bundled onto a horse and with a substantial escort of guards she had been rushed to Kings Landing. Once there she had met with her father and uncle and told she was to be married to King Robert Baratheon without delay.
Her heart had leapt at the news, she was to be Queen! Her disappointment over Ned Stark would be forgotten, and she would wed Robert Baratheon, a fine southern noble, who happened to be almost as handsome as Ned Stark, or so she convinced herself.
Ah but all her dreams and fantasies had been swept away on the night of her wedding. Robert, drunk out of his mind had staggered to their wedding bed, he had been rough, forcing his way inside her with little preamble, his considerable size an agony as he tore through her maidenhead with no pause to slam into her, pulling back and slamming in again and again, weeping and snarling at the same time. As he spent himself he had been muttering 'Lyanna, Lyanna' over and over again, before he had removed his pillar, its sudden extraction hurting almost as much as its first insertion. Robert had then climbed off her, rolled over on is back and promptly fell asleep; soon thunderous snores filled the air of the bedchamber. No wonder the Septa's warned women about their wedding nights and their subsequent trials at the imposition of their husband's lusts upon them.
And it had only gotten worse since then, bad enough that Robert was a brute when it came to bedding, but the endless wenches and whores, they were even worse. She had prayed to the Mother and the Father for guidance, prayed with the Septon of the Red Keep and the High Septon for guidance, but to no avail. Robert had even come to her bed last night drunk as a skunk and with some wenches juices still wet on his pillar, the insults, the humiliation that she had to put up with from her oaf of a husband!
She narrowed her eyes; she so did hope that Ned Stark was as much a brute as Robert, that the blonde Lannister slut would suffer the same as she suffered from her husband. But deep down she knew with an acrid bitterness that stung the back of her throat that this would not be the case, and that Cersei Lannister would get to enjoy her beddings with Ned Stark.