Catelyn

"Ben will be here in ten days," Ned said as he entered the room and closed the door. He smothered a yawn with his hand. "It will be good to see him again."

Cat smiled at him as she brushed her long red hair carefully. "It cannot be easy for him to visit often, being on the Wall."

"Aye," Ned replied as he stood by the fire and stared into the flames. "There is much I need to discuss with him." He paused and then started to disrobe. When he looked up again his face was serious. "The news from the Wall worries me. More Wildling raids, more rumours of this King beyond the Wall, Mance Rayder, the weakness of the Night's Watch… I'm worried Cat."

She stopped and looked at him. She could see the worry in his eyes. "You are that worried about the Wall?"

Ned nodded sombrely as he slipped out of his breeches and folded everything carefully on top of the chest on his side of the bed. "Winter is coming. And this winter will be different I think. I sense it."

There was a tone in his voice that alarmed her and she stared at him for a long moment. Ned was clenching and unclenching his hands as he stared into the fire again, which was a sign that he was brooding again, which was never a good sign. She finished brushing her hair and then disrobed as swiftly as she could. "Come to bed Ned."

He turned and looked at her, smiling as he did. "Aye, I will." As they slipped beneath the covers Cat remembered something. "I haven't seen Bran climbing the walls once today. Do you think he finally listened?"

Ned sighed. "I made him promise not to again. Only this time I made him swear on Ice."

She looked at him, startled. "That was overmuch was it not?"

"Nay," Ned said with a grimace. "He's naught but a boy. We've sought his promise not to climb again and again and he's been tempted out of it again and again. Well, this time it must be different. He's starting to learn what it is to fight and to be a man. He must take up a man's responsibilities – and his word must stand for something. He'll keep his promise this time. I think he hates me for it, but he'll keep it."

"Oh Ned," she sighed as she put her arm around him and snuggled against him. "You're his father. He loves you. He can never hate you."

"He's young. He's resentful. He'll learn." Ned paused again. "Sansa seems very taken with young Domeric."

Cat nodded slowly. "The lad is… not what I expected. He plays the harp very well indeed and he is soft-spoken and courteous. Not at all what I thought that the son of Roose Bolton would be like."

"Aye, that was my thought too. He takes after his mother I think, in temperament at least. He is a fine horseman though. No – better than fine. Born in the saddle, as Jon Arryn would say." And then he seemed to leave the room for a moment as his eyes stared at some spot on the ceiling.

"Ned. Ned?" She elbowed him gently in the ribs and he seemed to return from wherever his thoughts had taken him. "What were you thinking about?"

He smiled in a rather strained fashion. "Just hoping that an important message gets to him in King's Landing. In the meantime, I think it is time that we reluctantly start to think about marriage alliances for Robb and Sansa. I don't like to think about these things, as it reminds me of my father and his endless intrigues, but I think that it must be done." His face set slightly. "Robb needs advice on who to marry I think. I've been neglecting his studies on treating with our friendly and not so friendly neighbours." And now there was another note in his voice, one that she could not put her finger on.

"Marriage alliances?" Cat asked. "Don't you think that it's a little early to think of that?"

"No," Ned sighed, "I don't. What's happening North of the Wall is worrying me. We might need help from the South. Well – Robert may be king, but his eyes are on all the threats that surround him. Dorne dislikes him, The Reach plots, the Stormlands still haven't recovered from the war, your father is unwell in the Riverlands, the Ironborn sulk and the Vale is loyal to Jon Arryn, who is not a young man and whose heir is, from all accounts, well, smothered with too much attention by your sister, whom I am also worried about. And then there are the Lannisters. Who also plot."

Cat stared at him in real shock. "You make it sound as if the Seven Kingdoms are on the brink of war!"

Ned stared back at her and she thought she saw, for a split second, something red in his eyes. And then it was gone as he smiled and held her close for a long moment. "Sorry Cat. Too much brooding and worrying. We do need to think about marriage alliances though. We should see how Domeric treats with Sansa. And as for Robb – well, I have been scratching my head about him."

She settled against him again with a sigh. Perhaps he was right. "I will think about it. There are a few matches I can suggest. We have five children though – surely some at least can marry for love instead of need?"

He turned and held her in his arms. "Yes. Originally our marriage was politics, but then it turned to love." He kissed her and she felt her heart swell. As did her favourite part of him. She responded with increasingly passionate kisses of her own. Mmm, tonight sleep would have to wait for a bit.

When she woke up again she didn't know why for a long moment. She ached in all the right places and given the seeping warmth from between her legs Ned had delivered more than his customary ardour. She smiled sleepily. Ned had been very attentive recently. Perhaps a girl this time?

Ned moved slightly and muttered something in his sleep. He was restless. Perhaps that had woken her?. She looked at him in the half-light of the fireplace, which was now little more than red-hot ashes. She was worried about him, still. Whatever had ailed Robb had also affected her husband. She still hadn't been able to get a decent explanation out of him about the entire thing, which was aggravating. But then that was Ned sometimes. Him and his honour and his word and… his secrets. He still held them.

She sighed and closed her eyes – and then opened them again when Ned suddenly stiffened and choked out: "No!"

Cat sat up and looked at him. He was dreaming. No, not a dream – a nightmare. He was sweating and she would see his eyes moving under his eyelids. His fists were clenched – and then he started to tremble. "Not Robb," he moaned in his sleep, "Not my son. Spare him…"

And now she stared at him in horror. What was he dreaming of? Robb in some kind of danger? Ned paused for a moment and then relaxed – only to redouble his trembling. "Ned," she said quietly. "Ned! Wake up – you're dreaming!"

"No," he moaned again, "I can't. I promised you. I promised…" He said the words as if he was in agony. "Promised… kept the secret. Didn't tell. Protect him. Robert doesn't know." He said the last words with great intensity.

Cat frowned at him and then started to reach out to shake him awake. Whatever this nightmare was it was distressing him, because his face was drawn as if in pain. She was burning with curiosity about it, but she did not want him to suffer. Her hand never got there. Suddenly he was awake and upright in bed, shouting a single name: "LYANNA!"