AN: This is a vignette that can be read alone. It can also be read as following my story "The First Night." I'm thinking of writing a series of these, to play with the characters. Please note that I am aware that this does not follow canon exactly, and I don't intend to follow canon in many ways. This is just for fun and entertainment.
If this is not your cup of tea, then I wish you all the luck in the world in finding a story that you enjoy.
If you do read, I hope you enjoy! If you do enjoy, please do let me know!
111
"You have done well, M'lady," Maylin said. She was one of Catelyn's women—a good bit older than Catelyn and, honestly, appreciated as someone to offer some affection in the life that Catelyn now knew. "Barely taken to your marriage bed and already offering your lord an heir. Very soon you will have the worst of this business behind you."
"How soon?" Catelyn asked.
"Maester Luwin says it shouldn't be more than a day or two."
"A day or two?" Catelyn lamented.
She panted and caught hold of the windowsill nearest her. She pressed her fist into the small of her back and closed her eyes to feel Maylin's fingers take the place of her own. She kneaded the muscles in Catelyn's back.
"The first is always the worst," Maylin said. "Your body is young and not yet well-versed in the ways of childbearing. You are active—restless. That is as it should be. You will help your body to open. Make room for the passage of the child."
"Would that it would end quickly," Catelyn lamented.
She didn't like that Maylin laughed at her, but she didn't scold the woman, for fear that she might leave her to labor alone, as it practically seemed that all the household seemed happy to do—except for Maester Luwin who came, from time to time, to check the progress of the child's delivery into the world.
"Do not rush the little one," Maylin said. "He'll be here soon enough, and you will be a mother."
"Do you believe it will be a boy?"
"Haven't you prayed to the seven faces that it would be? Keep your faith. Besides—you'll need your faith for the work that lies ahead of you. It's no easy thing to bring a life into the world."
"With the war ended, my husband rides for Winterfell," Catelyn said, commenting on the news that she had recently received.
"He does, m'lady," Maylin agreed. "Would you return to your bed now?"
"No—please," Catelyn said.
"As you wish," Maylin said.
"Do you think that—he may make it before the child?" Catelyn asked. "I sent word that there was to be another Stark at Winterfell, but I don't know that he even received the bird."
"Whether Lord Stark or the young Stark arrives first," Maylin said, "soon Winterfell will be well full of Starks." She laughed—jolly over the whole thing, no matter how many times she offered some physical support to Catelyn, whose body was repeatedly wracked with the pains of labor. "With a wife who would bring him forth an heir after only just taking her to his bed, Lord Stark may find himself a man abundant in heirs—as befits the Lord of Winterfell."
"I don't know if I can do this again," Catelyn breathed out. "You can't be serious that this will last for days more…"
"Maybe not for days, m'lady," Maylin offered, turning Catelyn to face her. She brushed her fingertips across Catelyn's face with an affection that Catelyn knew many would say was out of place for a woman of Maylin's position—but Catelyn craved the affection, and Maylin was happy to oblige her in the quiet privacy of her chambers. Catelyn was willing to forgive Maylin any number of minor transgressions for the comfort she offered her. Maylin smoothed back the hair that clung to Catelyn's sweat-soaked skin. "Don't rush the little Stark. Everything is happening as it must for all who would be mothers. May you be blessed to do this many more times. You will see—each time you will fight it less and find it easier."
Catelyn drew in a breath—the deepest she felt she'd been able to draw in for some time.
"A mother," she mused, breathing out the words.
Maylin smiled.
"Do you keep forgetting, m'lady, the result of all that you must endure?"
Catelyn smiled at her.
"Since my husband's seed quickened in my womb," she said, "and Maester Luwin confirmed that there was a child growing there, all the talk has been of—my husband's heir. The blessing that I would give him, as I made him a father. It seems only since my pains have come upon me that the world around me truly speaks of me becoming a mother."
"Making your husband a father, and giving him an heir, is important work," Maylin said. "The most important duty that you have is that to your husband. However, you must never forget that, in making him a father, you become a mother. The lord is important to the family, but we women know that it is the mother that makes the family—in all ways."
"I will be a good mother," Catelyn said.
"I have no doubt that you will," Maylin said, warmly. "Come—it is time to go back to your bed. Your pains are coming quicker now, and Maester Luwin will want to make sure that all is well with the little Stark."
"Do you think that means the baby will come sooner than you think?" Catelyn asked, allowing the woman to help her back to bed.
"I think the baby will be here just when it should," Maylin said. "I will go for Maester Luwin. You should rest as much as you can. You will need your strength very soon. It is tiring work to become a mother."
111
Brought to the cold, harsh North and left at Winterfell only days after her marriage was consummated, Catelyn had wondered if she might ever feel at home again.
Her husband, Ned, hadn't seemed entirely displeased with her—and he'd bedded her several times between their arrival at Winterfell and the moment when he'd left for war—but he had seemed distant, as though there were something about her that wasn't quite what he'd wanted. She had promised herself that she would be the best wife for him that she could be. She would give him heirs, and she would be the lady that he needed her to be. She would offer him the support that every man needed from his wife. With time, she would hopefully come to love him and, with a blessing, to be loved by him.
She had prayed to bring him forth an heir as quickly as possible—to do her duty to him as well as any wife could. Still, even she hadn't expected him to leave for war, almost immediately following the consummation of their marriage, with his son already growing in her womb.
With her newborn son in her arms—a young Stark—Catelyn felt a swell of pride that she was doing her duty well. She was a good wife to her husband, even if he didn't know it yet. She would be a good wife to him—unceasingly.
She was truly the Lady Stark of Winterfell, now.
In the peace of her chambers—left alone for the first time since the frenzy of the birth—Catelyn examined her son. He hadn't been named yet. His father would come soon. His father would choose his name, as was his right. It didn't matter what they called the babe. Catelyn knew that she would always think of him as her baby—her first-born, since they assured her that she was healthy and her hips were well-set to bring forth many heirs for the Stark house.
This baby—this precious child—would always be her first-born.
"You must rest, m'lady," Maylin said, entering Catelyn's bedchambers. She stopped to tend the fire and light a taper that had gone out, thanks to some breeze from somewhere—a door opening and closing, perhaps, as Maester Luwin left the room. "I have no doubt that Lord Stark will be here, soon, and he will want to find you rested and strong."
"I am strong, Maylin," Catelyn said. "Maester Luwin said so himself."
"So he did, and so you are," Maylin said. "But, still, you will rest and build your strength more. Give me the child, m'lady. He is ready for his first meal, and his nurse is waiting."
Catelyn felt her chest tighten at the thought of handing her baby over.
"He is new to this world," Catelyn said. "He needs his mother."
"He does," Maylin agreed softly, "but he needs to feed and grow strong, as well. Give me the child."
"I will give him suck, myself," Catelyn said, her whole body practically aching at the thought of letting the baby be taken from her arms.
Maylin smiled at her.
"Will you now? Like a common woman? That is hardly a practice for the lady of the house."
"As the lady of the house," Catelyn said, "I decide what is to be a common practice and what is not for the House of Stark."
"Well-spoken, m'lady," Maylin offered softly. "If I may remind you of one thing…"
"What is it?" Catelyn asked.
"It is said that to give a child suck tells the womb not to give life to whatever seed is planted there. It will stop you from conceiving another heir which, if you will forgive me, is your duty m'lady."
Catelyn frowned. She knew it was true. It was her duty to produce as many children as possible for her husband—as often as possible. If feeding her newborn son at her breast would delay that, or hinder her from being able to do so, then she had to do what so many other women before her had done. She had to trust a wet nurse to feed her son while her body made ready to produce a brother or sister for the little one.
"As soon as he is fed…" Catelyn said.
"The little Lord Stark will find his way back to his mother," Maylin assured her. "For now, m'lady, the most important thing that you can do is rest. You will be of no use to anyone, if you haven't the strength to leave your bed."
Catelyn agreed, although reluctantly. She let her son be taken from her arms, and she rolled just enough to watch Maylin as she left the room with him. She didn't move her eyes until the door had closed, leaving her alone.
Her husband was coming. Her son would be returned to her.
But, for the first time since she had first recognized the barely perceptible presence of her son, Catelyn felt profoundly alone.
She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep, dreaming of how pleased her husband would be to return home and find the family she had begun for them.