Catelyn

Despite the years that she had spent in Winterfell whenever Catelyn thought of home her mind would always drift to Riverrun.

Oh, Ned had done all he could to make her feel welcomed in Winterfell. Brought plenty of servants from the Riverlands to attend her. Made sure the meals during those first few years had always included plenty of dishes that she was familiar with. The creation of the Sept within Winterfell. He had been careful to shield her from the more foreign and strange of Northern customs. The 'Fight Nights' that the guards and people of Wintertown would participate in were moved out of the main courtyard of Winterfell and into Wintertown, with Ned not presiding over them… or taking part in them as his father had as a young man or Brandon as well.

Catelyn would always be grateful for that. Thankful that he had done all he could to protect her and ensure that she was able to ease her way into the life she now led in Winterfell. And if she were honest with herself, especially now having seen Brandon again and been able to remove the blurriness that came with age and memory, she knew that Brandon wouldn't have done all that Ned had done. He would have demanded that Catelyn either accept his ways or set herself aside.

(Sometimes she wondered if it wouldn't have been better if Ned had done that. Forced her to adapt to the North rather than allowing her to cling to much of her Southern ways. While she wasn't sure she would have managed… she couldn't help but wonder how many of their problems would be gone if she had been forced to choose.)

No, when Catelyn thought of home she thought of Riverrun.

It was a place of so many good memories. Wonderful memories. Where all was right in the world and nothing bad could ever happen.

'Are you sure of that? Are you truly sure? Your mother died trying to give your father another son that he could use as part of his grand scheme to gain more power in Westeros. He could never handle that he was allied with the Arryns, the Starks, the Lannisters, and the Targaryans… all of King's Blood save for him, the blood of slaves.'

Where she had been able to play and dance in her youth and as a woman did her duty and helped her father manage their holdings.

'You enjoyed the power you held. Loved when men would whisper that you were the true ruler of Riverrun even as you did all you could to claim that you had no desire for such a thing. You thought that you deserved it as first born and cursed your gender for seeing you bypassed for a squawking infant that spent his days sticking his toes in his mouth.'

He father showing how a man truly should rule, with a hand held out to all but the other clenched, ready to strike down any that might threaten his home.

'Even if they were within. You heard his murmurs as you and Ned past through… it was not you he forced the moon tea upon. Family, Duty, and Honor are misordered… family always came last for him if they stained his honor or prevented him from his chosen duties. It is why your brother has been allowed to gallivanted about, learning nothing to rule even as your father grows weaker… he wrote him off long ago. He never wanted to be a father, he did so only because it was expected of him.'

Lysa happily trailing after her, asking a thousand questions and dreaming of her fairy tales and her songs, of how she would have her handsome prince that would take her to a land where it was always spring.

'And you allowed her to hold onto those delusions even though you knew your father was seeking to sell her off to whoever he could manage. Lord Tywin thought her insipid and tried to change the deal, to give you to Jaime Lannister and have Brandon deal with Lysa… but the contract had been made and your father feared the rage of Rickard Stark. So Lysa went to Jon Arryn… to a cold and barren rock where her dreams became bitter delusions.'

Her baby brother Edmure, clinging to her skirt tails as she moved about the castle, watching her with wide eyes. Such a good little boy, following her orders, obeying her when she gave him commands. Always listening to her.

'You were his mother in all but name and when you left he didn't understand what was happening. He went from you guiding his every action to being all alone, left with a father who was more focused on currying favor with Robert Baratheon than showing his son how to properly rule. Edmure noticed who your father cared for the most… why else would it be that now the only skirts he clings to are those of barmaids, the only ones his wide eyes have sights on are whores?'

And it wasn't just her family either. She remembered fondly the others of her childhood. The Blackfish, who always told her such interesting stories of his travels.

'Your father sought to force him into a marriage for political gain to a woman he didn't desire. Drove away his own blood for his ambitions. And what did that gain him? Your son will be king but through Eddard's actions, not your father's. Riverrun will be an honored bannerman of the King In The North but within a generation their importance will be forgotten. They will be no different than any of the other Southern lords. And the Blackfish's marriage would have amounted to little… and it cost him greatly.'

Brandon, so strong and powerful, getting the cheers of those around him. He had met her so gallantly, so unlike the Northern Lords she had heard about from her septa.

'And Drax proves that was a mask. He would have fathered a hundred bastards and would have tossed you aside the moment you tried to correct him. He would have been another Robert and you another Cersei, trapped forever upon your seats, hatred the only chain to bind you two.'

Oh, and she couldn't forget little Petyr. Her dear friend who she and Lysa had played kissing games with and who had been so eager to help her with any of her tasks.

'Whose obsession turned to madness and then into dark jealousy. Your lord husband nearly died because of him. He got Brandon murdered and threw the realm into war. A vile little boy who was allowed to do as he wished because you refused to see just what he was! Just as you refuse now to see the world around you!'

Catelyn stopped, looking about her. "Stop saying those things."

'No,' the voice called out, sharp like the shrill cry of the morning bird.

She looked about wildly, trying to find the source of the noise. But all she saw was fire. The flames rose up around her and over her, trapping her in a cage of burning and she knew if she touched the bars that she would burn too. "Why are you saying these things?" she demanded.

The flames suddenly moved to close in around her, causing Catelyn to shrink and curl in on herself. And from them emerged a great bird's head, eyes glowing with yellow fires that melted all the barriers around her soul and the delusions she had tried to build up around herself about her life and all that had come before.

'Because you have been asleep for far too long, Catelyn Stark! It is time for you to WAKE UP!'

"CAT!"

Her eyes snapped open and she panted hard as she looked about to find Ned next to her, gripping her arms tight. She looked about wildly, heart slamming in her chest so violently that it was making her dizzy. Catelyn vaguely realized they were both naked but that wasn't much of a surprise; only the very old would wear clothing, even in the North, when going to bed. But she wasn't under the covers. She was standing on the cold floor, far from the bed…

…next to the raging hearth, hands extended towards the flames.

"Ned?" she got out, voice as fragile as a baby bird. "What… what is…"

There was a knock on the door and Catelyn turned to it, suddenly aware of her nakedness. That realization, the venerable position she was in, snapped her out of the last traces of confusion and had her spinning around, pressing herself against Ned in an attempt to hide herself before someone came in. Ned wrapped his arms around her, making Catelyn realize just how large he was when compared to her.

'He's gained muscle,' she thought to herself. 'He was like Robert but he had gotten a bit softer in the last few years… but no more. He might be even larger than he was during the rebellion.'

"Your grace?" Maester Luwin called out and Catelyn relaxed a touch. "Might we enter?"

"Just you at the moment, Maester Luwin," Ned called out. "We aren't… decent."

"Of course, your grace," Luwin said and after a moment the maester entered, walking over to the two of them. Catelyn relaxed more once the door was shut; Luwin was different from all others. He had brought all but Robb into the world, seeing her in ways even Ned never would. Finally letting go of Ned she made to walk over and grab her robe… only to find Ned refusing to let her go.

"Ned?"

"Maester Luwin, would you mind?" He nodded towards the robes that were close at hand. Despite it not being the task of a maester the old man nodded and walked over to the robes, bringing them over and slipping one over Catelyn's shoulders. It was only when Maester Luwin was behind her that Ned let her go, donning his own robe and moving to grab a pair of breeches, yanking them on before hurrying back over to her and, to her shock, hefting her up into his arms so that one arm was supporting her legs and the other was just under her arms.

"Ned!" she exclaimed in shock. "Put me down!"

"No," he rumbled.

"Ned!"

But rather than respond Ned instead called out "ENTER!" and Catelyn watched in surprise as an entire troop of people came into the room. There were Robb and Roslin, both looking rather tense but also probably the most fully dressed. Rickon was wearing only a pair of breeches while Ser Rodrik entered looking stern and grim. Shireen Baratheon, wearing breeches herself as was her style, easily darted around the others despite her greater height while Jane Seaworth followed in her path. Catelyn's maid Moyra was allowed a path to her, at once moving to the bed were Ned had sat down… while refusing to release Catelyn, much to her irritation. Finally there was the click-click-click of nails and Catelyn saw Sansa dart into the room, moving past the others to come to rest near Catelyn. She knew that Sansa was using the fact that she looked like a dog to be able to come to her first but she honestly didn't mind, reaching out and running her hand along her head.

"Ned… please…" Catelyn pleaded. "I can sit on my own!"

"No," he repeated before looking at Maester Luwin. "Look her over now… I have her."

"What is going on?" Catelyn asked. "I was sleep walking… it is a thing that happens." Admittedly, she mentally added, she had never done it herself but that meant little.

Ned looked at her even as Maester Luwin began to examine her, running his hands along her throat and up long the sides of her face before pulling open one of her eyes. "Cat… we've been attempting to do this for 2 hours."

"…what?" she asked, unable to comprehend just what Ned was saying.

"It is the Hour of the Nightengale," Ned informed her. "At the Hour of the Eel I awoke to find you building the fire in the Hearth. I attempted repeatedly to awaken you and several times seemed to bring you out of whatever… trance… you were in, only for you to rush back to the hearth and the flames." She turned towards him to… to refute or dismiss his comments only to notice finally that one of his eyes was blackened and there were cuts along his cheeks and his chest. "Aye," he said, "you fought hard when I restrained you. It is why some many are here… we were all concerned Cat."

"By the Gods," Catelyn whispered, truly taking him in. It looked like he'd tried to capture a rabid cat!

"We'll need to spar, Father," Robb said, a bit too lightly in her opinion. "Earlier the better… people will talk if they see you wounded but if it was done by your heir…"

Ned considered that for a moment. "Aye," he finally said, "aye… that would be fine. There is no shame in one's son getting a lucky hit in."

"Lucky!?" Venom snarled, bursting up from Robb's shoulder. "There is nothing lucky about Robb! His skill is beyond you all! Give him another black eye, Robb!"

"I've seen the wonders of Asgard and I will still never get used to that…" Jane muttered.

"I don't know why you need to do the spar," Rickon said, rubbing his chin. "Just tell everyone you and mother were having passionate sex."

"RICKON!" Robb shouted, Sansa whipping around and snarling at her brother. "Those are our parents!"

"And they have fucked far more than five times," Rickon replied with a shrug. "Father is still a virile man and mother is very attractive."

"By the gods," Robb complained while Catelyn watched the entire thing with a detached sense of horror. It was like seeing a boat heading towards a waterfall, where you knew it was doomed but still couldn't look away.

"Come now, you should be pleased. Roslin is a very attractive woman and will want her needs met often. Mother and Father are proof you will be able to do so." He gestured at her and Ned, Catelyn knowing she should be angry at her son but honestly was more embarrassed than anything else. "Admittedly you two are already rather active."

Robb's eyebrow twitched. "Have… have you been spying on us, little brother?"

"What? No!" Rickon complained. "The walls just aren't as thick as you two think."

Sansa let out a 'woof'.

"Exactly," Rickon said with a grin. He looked over at Shireen. "You know… based on my grandfather, father, and brother… I will probably be rather virile as well."

Shireen merely looked down at Rickon, eyes narrowed. "I suppose some traits don't breed true in all members of a family."

Catelyn winced at that then made a mental note that one of them HAD to talk to Rickon about how to properly court a woman.

"Her grace appears to be out of whatever overtook her," Maester Luwin stated. "You may all return to your bed chambers."

"Do they have to be our own?" Rickon asked even as Shireen twisted on her heels and marched out, reminding Catelyn once again she was Stannis Baratheon's daughter. "I'm just saying we're all wide awake…"

"Father, I will see you in an hour in the yard," Robb called out, leading Roslin away.

"Three black eyes!" Venom shouted as they left. "I don't know how but we will figure it out!"

That seemed to be the cue for everyone to leave the room, until it was only her, Ned, Maester Luwin, Moyra… and Jane, which confused her. It clearly was odd to the men because they looked at the woman who merely shook her head and smiled.

"Maester Luwin, take his grace to be patched up. I think Catelyn could do with someone to talk to."

Ned glanced at her but Catelyn merely nodded. "I think I would Ned… I am awake now so I think we have nothing to fear." She looked to Moyra who had moved to the hearth, shifting some of the logs so that the fire didn't burn so hot. While she did prefer their rooms to be warmer than Ned desired the blaze she had started in her sleep had made it near unbearable. Even the thin robe she was wearing was too warm for the heat. "It would be cruel to Maester Luwin to force him to remain in here… go with him and I will see you soon."

Ned considered her for a long moment before finally nodding, getting up and following after Luwin with a promise to send someone to retrieve his clothing for him.

Once the door was shut Catelyn turned to Jane and sighed. She hadn't spent much time with the woman since she'd arrived; Jane tended to spend her time with Shireen and if not with them she was with some of the Guardians, as Rickon's group had taken to calling themselves. It was rather common to find Jane in the late evenings sparring with Gamora (sometimes it was easier for Catelyn to think of the woman not as Lyanna Stark), the two of them going at each other with knives and daggers, their movements so quick that their limbs were a blur. And if she weren't with any of them she was with Ned in his solar, going over maps and explaining the strengths and weaknesses of the Stormlands and the Crownlands. From what little she had seen the woman was polite… if a bit critical of magic and the like. More than once she'd seen Yondu walk by, grumbling under his breath about Jane's pestering of him.

"I apologize for Rickon… I will speak with him again about how he talked around others. I am afraid that my husband's family has trained him well in battle but not how to talk around others-"

Jane waved off her apology. "It is fine Catelyn-"

"Your grace," Moyra said firmly, cutting in.

"Yes?" Cat asked.

But her maid shook her head. "No… I was speaking to Jane. You should address her as 'your grace'."

"Ah, yes," Jane said and Catelyn caught the flinty look in her eye. "All those titles… so important." And suddenly she seemed to be so much larger than she had been moments earlier, sitting up straighter and locking eyes with Moyra. "For example, I am Princess Jane Seaworth Lokidotter, daughter of Loki Odinson, crowned prince of Asgard. When my father passes I will be Queen Jane, Allmother and ruler of Asgard. Not a kingdom. The entire REALM of Asgard. The current king, the Allfather Odin Borsson, is the father of my husband, Prince Thor Odinson. The Thunderer. I am the adopted mother of Shireen Stannisdotter, Queen of the Valkyrie."

Catelyn swore she heard the rumble of a storm overhead. Not in the sky… in the room they were sitting in.

"Titles… are important?"

Moyra ducked her head and set about cleaning and organizing the room.

Jane turned to Catelyn once again, a smile once more on her face that was kind and warm. "As for your apology there is no need for it. I am married to Thor and that man simply speaks his mind all the time. I am quite used to it."

Catelyn pressed her lips together at that, shifting slightly and tugging at her robe. "It is… so very odd… to hear you talk of The Warrior that way." Shireen had been rather open about how her adopted father was part of the 'Faith of the Seven'. Catelyn might not have believed that had Shireen not unfurled her wings and shown her ability to call for lightning… and bring out shades of the dead. Winterfell's Septon, Orys, had been left in utter fits, locking himself away in the Sept to try and deal with the information.

It had been another blow after countless blows, not helped by Shireen demanding rather firmly that she not be worshiped. Catelyn had tried to bow to her, the mortal made a god, but Shireen had commanded her to never do that again and in fact treat her as she would anyone else.

Which only proved her holy state for she demanded of humans that which was, in Catelyn's opinion, an impossibility.

"Or the Smith," Jane said with a teasing smile. "You must remember that there are far more than seven in Asgard. All of you merely took the pieces you remembered of their journeys here and slotted them together to create the Seven."

"But your husband… he is a god?"

"He is a long lived man who can control storms, yes," Jane stated. "But there is a clear and easily understood explanation for that."

"…which is?"

Jane's smile faltered. "When I figure it out I'll tell you," she muttered, reminding Catelyn very much of Arya when she was forced to admit she had done something wrong. "But he isn't a god as you would consider it. They don't hear your prayers." She suddenly snapped her mouth shut, grimacing. "I am sorry… that came out far more rude than I wished it to."

Catelyn forced herself to nod. She wanted to be upset but… again… Jane was married to The Warrior so she had the right to say what she did. More than any other person in Westeros she understood the Seven and what they could and couldn't do. But it was still a bitter blow that all her years praying in the Sept, lighting candles, asking for aid and guidance… had been for nothing. The gods had never heard her prayers for Ned to return home safe from the wars. For her children to make it through their births and be healthy. That the North stay strong.

'I suppose though that all people pray for such things. It is said that Shireen's mother Seylse prayed every day to bring a boy into the world. I found Lysa in the Sept when word of her marriage to Jon Arryn was heard. All prayed… and their prayers weren't answered.

"I know many take comfort in the gods," Jane continued, clearly trying to offer some comfort to Catelyn after her unintentionally cruel words, "believing they are up there, deciding out fates. I just find it more comforting to know that they aren't doing that." Catelyn merely stared at her and Jane gave a helpless shrug. "It means our mistakes and our successes are our own. They aren't the work of others who place blessings or damnations on us. When we make a mistake we don't need to worry that it will be the gods smiting us that will see us punished. Rather it will simply be those around us… which, in my opinion at least, is far better than some force I have never met and can't understand deciding what is and isn't right and fair."

Catelyn considered that for a long moment before she finally nodded. "Yes… I suppose so." She didn't know if she'd be able to give up easily the things that had been engrained in her since she could speak. The prayers. The worship. The belief. Yet… there was a comfort to know that what had happened to her children wasn't the work of some god that was tormenting her because of minor crimes. That rather it was merely cruel twists of fate.

And yet…

"Perhaps… not the gods," she said quietly, "but there are things I have done that have harmed my family. Punishments not because of a god but because of others around me, punishing them for my actions." She let out a soft sigh. "Ned nearly died because I convinced him to trust the wrong man."

"Baelish," Jane stated and Catelyn looked up at her, surprised and yet in the same instance not that Jane knew of that little tale. "I never cared for that man. He thought he was smarter and more charming than he ever truly was."

"I forget sometimes that you spent years so close to King's Landing."

"Just under a decade," Jane stated. "I was brought to care for Shireen when she was just a babe, after the grayscale incident. Her father felt that she needed a protector and that the others in his employ had failed in that matter. Lord Stannis… I don't think he ever truly forgave himself for being at court and his family at Dragonstone , so he wanted to do right by her. My father was his trusted aid and advisor and Lord… King… bah, its hard to decide his titles anymore. Stannis. Stannis knew I would be a good match for Shireen. But yes… there were plenty of times we went to the Capital to see him and I got to meet all of the Small Council and the Royal Family.

"Cersei was cold, though that might be my fault considering I staged it so Robert believed Joffrey had tried to attack Shireen with a knife." Catelyn's eyes widened at that but Jane merely flashed a dark smirk. "He was mocking and tormenting her… that was never going to stand. But Pycelle liked to look at me for far too long and I swear only shuffled so I was ahead of him and thus allowed him to look at my arse. Varys hid things, which I'm sure your husband has told you. Renly… I always got the sense that Renly was trying to pretend to be something he wasn't. It must have been tiresome. Slant was a corrupt little fool, always boasting about how powerful he was.

"But Baelish? Baelish liked to claim the mockingbird was his sigil and others called him a weasel. I rather thought of him as a scorpion." She paused, glancing at Catelyn, clearly gauging her mood. "Have you ever heard of the Dornish tale of the scorpion and the frog?"

"I can't say I have," Catelyn admitted, though she had a bad feeling that she would not enjoy it.

"Once there was a great river, fat and full because of recent rains. And upon one bank was a frog, looking to get across. Doing so wasn't a problem at all for the frog; it was something that it had done a million times and would do a million times after that day. But just before it leapt into the waters the frog heard a voice call out to it.

"'Frog, might you help me?' a scorpion asked, skittering over to him. 'I need to cross the river but I can't swim.'

"The Frog considered the Scorpion. 'I know of you, Scorpion,' he said. 'Your sting is deadly. Just the smallest of pricks can kill a man easily and I am much smaller than them.'

"The Scorpion though shook his head. 'I will be on your back, Frog. If I sting you we will both drown.'

"The Frog thought that over. All the other animals were leery of the Scorpion, knowing the danger he brought… but the Frog saw the logic in the Scorpion's comment and finally nodded his head. 'I will jump into the water though,' the Frog warned the Scorpion, 'and you will need to jump on my back. And when we are near the shoreline you will need to jump off as well.' The Scorpion agreed and the Frog was rather pleased with himself; he had thought of everything!

"And so the Frog leapt into the water and the Scorpion jumped onto the Frog's back. And the Frog carefully began to paddle across the river, not wanted to splash the Scorpion too much. They were halfway across when the Frog felt a terrible burning pain and turned to see the Scorpion had stung him on the leg. Already the Frog's muscles began to lock up as the pain overtook him, making him thrash.

"'Why?' the Frog asked as they began to sink, the Scorpion also struggling to swim. 'You will die too! Why did you sting me?'

"'It's my nature,' the Scorpion said simply."

Catelyn swallowed that. Yes… she could see that as a story the Dornish told to their children.

"Every single person in King's Landing believed they were the sole one who had gained Baelish's loyalty. That he would lie and scheme against everyone else… but not them. Never them. Maybe they had a friendship with him that only the two of them understood… a shared interest or a moment of bonding. Maybe they had done him a favor and they thought that meant he was in their debt. Maybe they simply believed that they had looked deep within him and found the human being.

"Jon Arryn believed because he'd known him since he'd run Gulltown that he understood the man. Robert looked down on anyone that couldn't swing a sword and believed them to be weak and thus dismissed them outright… and the fact that Baelish kept giving him gold helped. Cersei thought that she controlled everyone, not just him. Renly and him would spare but he thought it a delightful game. Same with Varys. Everyone thought they understood him. Could use him. And would allow him to ride their backs as they went across the river."

Catelyn pressed her lips together. 'I thought the same way,' she chastised herself. 'I told Ned to trust Petyr… that he was my friend and would help me. Despite him doing this to clearly mock us all I kept making excuses. Had… had he helped take Ned's head would I have still made excuses for him? Allowed our childhood together to color my thoughts? Dismiss his actions as merely Petyr being Petyr? Saw the boy he was… instead of the man he'd become? Was he ever that boy?'

Jane looked at Catelyn, wiggling her jaw back and forth. "I… know he was your friend. Or at the very least that is how you saw him. But I'm afraid I can't agree with that assessment."

"What he did to Ned… how it resulted in what befell Sansa-"

"No, I'm not referring to that," Jane said.

But she didn't continue on.

"What?" Catelyn asked, prodding her verbally to speak. "What is it?"

"Do you know the stories he tells about you?" he asked. "Do you truly know?"

"Ned heard… whispers," Catelyn said, grimacing in remembrance of the things Ned had shouted at her during their last fight. "That Petyr claimed to have taken my maidenhead-"

"You're being too kind," Jane stated flatly. "Years ago, when I first entered into Stannis' employ, Baelish tried to get me to become his spy. He invited me to a dinner he claimed would have many but was just himself. Whether he thought I would spread my legs for him just because my father had only just recently gained his title and I had been born a common girl with no family name, I don't know. But he wanted to… impress me I suppose is the best word. He told me how skilled he was as a lover. That he had taken both you and your sister at the same time. That before he had been forced from Riverrun you had gone to his chambers and begged him to put a baby in you. That while Ned was off to war… he had done just that."

Catelyn's eyes widened in horror.

"Yes… he claimed Robb was his bastard."

She clenched her hand hard, feeling the scars the Valyrian Steel Knife had left on her hands ache in protest. She didn't care though. She savored the pain.

"I never-"

Jane held up her hand. "I know," she assured her. "I know. Baelish was a liar of the highest standing. He eagerly claimed many things, all of them lies. Sometimes I wonder if he even began to believe his own tales."

'Petyr… how could you do such a thing?' Catelyn thought in disgust and horror. 'Deny Robb his birthright… and endanger the rest of my children?' If there was even a small amount of doubt that she'd given Ned horns it would be in his right to set aside her and all their children. The people would believe him… while Sansa had the most Southern of looks Robb, Bran, and Rickon all favored her more than Ned. Arya… well, perhaps he would claim Arya in such a scenario, or state she was a bastard born of some servant from the North. But Ned would set them all aside and take another wife or have Jon legitimized and…

She shook her head.

'No one would believe Petyr's lies,' she reminded herself. 'Not after all he did to us. His betrayals. His lies. His tying himself to the Lannisters…'

Catelyn's brow furrowed.

Why then… was she defending him herself?

"-duel with Brandon. It is ridiculous."

"What?" Catelyn said, realizing she'd zoned out.

"The tales he tells of his duel with Brandon Stark… they seemed to get more outlandish every year. I spoke with Drax and-"

"What does Petyr claim?" Catelyn asked, dread filling her.

Jane frowned, clearly realizing she may have stepped into another thorny situation. But it was too late for her to back out of it and thus had to forge on. "Well… he challenged Brandon for your hand, for it was clear that both of you were only going through with the wedding because it was your duty."

"Of course it was our duty," Catelyn stated with a scoff. "But that didn't mean I couldn't see myself loving Brandon." Mentally she added, however, 'But no longer. Even if the Child of the Forest Brandon joined with caused a shift in his personality there is still enough of Brandon in Drax for me to see… well, the tales the servants told, of how he earned the name The Wild Wolf, show that I would never have been happy in a marriage with him.'

"Baelish arrived in just a helm, breastplate, and mail, while Brandon, in a need to be dramatic, donned full armor-"

"He most certainly did not!" Cat proclaimed. "If anything it was the opposite. Brandon had thought that Petyr merely wanted to spar and made the claim for my hand because he was… playing a joke on him or was too shy to openly admit he wanted to test his sword against Brandon. He was still one of the best swordsmen the North had ever produced, after all, and did not have to duel anyone who merely asked. A reason needed to be given." She shook her head. "Brandon arrived in just leathers, along with blunted swords. Petyr was there in mail and helm and plate and he threw a fit that Brandon wasn't taking the duel seriously."

"Yes, I could see his pride being wounded that Brandon wasn't taking the duel seriously," Jane said diplomatically.

Catelyn let out a frustrated sigh. "What else?"

"As Brandon removed his armor, attended by your brother Edmure-" Not quite right, as rather it had been Brandon agreeing to have a bit of armor, complaining that it was a lot of work for a 'short spar' which now Catelyn could see would have only fueled Petyr's anger, "-you went to him and pleaded with tears in your eyes for him to spar Petyr's life."

"…no," Catelyn said, with a shake of her head. "The only one I pleaded with was Petyr and that was when he declared they would use true steel for their duel. It was when all of us realized that he was serious. Brandon tried to talk him out of it but Petyr began to mock him, calling him a coward. He probably thought he was going to rile up his wolf's blood but Brandon… Brandon saw it for what it was." She dropped her head, shoulders slumping. "What else?"

Jane shifted on the bed. "There isn't much else to tell, to be honest. He talks about how Brandon toyed with him before finally delivering a blow that proved nearly fatal-"

"He did NO such thing!" Catelyn exclaimed, shocked and scandalized.

Jane nodded. "I always found that part of the story the most false. Petyr always said he had on a breastplate but then Brandon sliced him from shoulder to navel." She drew her hand drown from the top of her sleeping dress to her hip, cutting across her body. "He was laid up for a month-"

"He caught the flu that had been going around," Catelyn groused. "Lysa had had it just before him."

"And when he was healed your father banished him from Riverrun."

Catelyn shook her head though. "No… it was time for him to return home. Petyr's father had taken a bad fall while hunting with one of the Freys and the wound turned bad. My father…" she trailed off. "Oh, what does it matter?"

"…it matters because you still call him friend," Jane stated, rising up. "And now I will take my leave."

With that she left.

Catelyn sat there for a long time, playing with the edges of her robe, feeling her fingers ache from overworking them.

"Your grace," Moyra said gently, "would you like to get dressed?"

"There are… many things I would like," she said hoarsely. "But I suppose that is something I can actually have."