章節 12: Winterfell
Family. Duty. Honour. Catelyn tasted the familiar words in her mouth, drawing strength from them as she always had done. But they were no longer just the noble words of her house that she had learned as a child and repeated with pride, nor were they the cherished guideline she had hung on to as an adolescent suddenly forced to take on the duties of her deceased mother. Today, and in the days, weeks, and years that followed, she would truly have to live up to the words she had taken into her heart.
Of course, she had known for a long time that she was to marry to the North. The idea, though frightening at first to a nineteen-year-old girl, was something she had grown accustomed to a long time ago – but she had been promised to Lord Stark's eldest son. Lord Brandon Stark was the one she had built her hopes and girlish dreams of a future on. He was the one who had made her heart flutter, and her cheeks go red at the thought of seeing him again.
And now...now she was still to have that future, but after the tragic death of both Lord Stark himself and his eldest son, her family's honour now bound her to the son that was next in line. A different son, but the eldest now nonetheless, and there was nothing Catelyn could do to change the fact. If anything, the alliance that had always been designed to strengthen the bond between the Starks and the Tullys was needed now more than it ever had been before as war still raged in the seven kingdoms. To the two families, it mattered little which Stark she would marry, as long as the marriage took place, and since Eddard Stark now held the lordship of Winterfell and all of the North, everything was as straightforward as it ever had been. Brandon was to be forgotten because she would marry Eddard Stark in his place.
And who was Eddard Stark? What little Catelyn knew of him she had learnt from her former betrothed and her own father. Bandon had sometimes mentioned his younger brother in passing when he spoke of his childhood in Winterfell, and her father had assured her that her future husband was a good, honourable man. Catelyn knew almost nothing of his personality except that Brandon had sometimes given to understand that his younger brother was a less charming, less handsome and less tall version of himself. Of course, how much of it had been brotherly teasing, Catelyn could not be sure of.
As she made her way from her bedchamber to the hall to meet her sister, Catelyn shook her head, trying to shake off any lingering thoughts of Brandon now that she was about to meet Eddard for the first time. Their courtship was to be a short one: in less than a week, they would marry and almost as soon, he would ride off to war again. She would have almost no time at all to get to know the man with whom, gods willing, she was to share her life with after the war – should he return from the war.
"Cat," Lysa whispered loudly, joining her even before she had made it to the hall where they had agreed to meet. Catelyn placed a reassuring hand over her younger sister's shoulder. She knew her sister to be even more agitated than she was herself.
"He is so old and...and fat," Lysa continued in a hushed tone, clinging on to Catelyn's dress as if her life depended on it.
Lysa, too, was to marry. Her match had been sketched in a hurry to join the House Arryn into the union already formed between the Houses Stark and Tully. If Catelyn had been delivered a blow in the news of the change of her betrothed, the impact to Lysa was perhaps even more severe. She had not expected to have to marry for another two years at least, and certainly not to a man over twice her own age. Also, Lysa did not possess the quiet determination that drove Catelyn. She had always been more prone to dramatic outbursts.
"Calm yourself, sister," Catelyn spoke under her breath. "They will hear you." She knew it was unlikely, as a heavy door and half the length of the hall still stood between them, but this was not the time to risk conflict, and the hall had been known to carry echoes.
"I can't marry him," Lysa insisted, lowering her whisper at Catelyn's request but showing no other signs of calming.
Catelyn looked at her sympathetically. Her thoughts had not been very different in her weakest moments, but this was not the time to dwell on them. They both must marry for the honour of the family.
"You must," she said gently. "We both must."
Lysa looked as though she was about to argue, but before she could speak another word, the door at the other end of the hall opened, revealing their father. The look he gave his daughters told Catelyn that it was time. Their betrothed were not to be kept waiting.
"Come," she said simply, taking Lysa's hand and half dragging her across the hall to where their father stood waiting.
Hoster Tully gave both his daughters a reassuring look as they reached him.
"The lords are waiting," he said simply, pressing a hand first on Catelyn's shoulder and then on Lysa's. "I know you are both brought up well enough to need no further advice from me. I will introduce you and then stand back so you may make the acquaintance of your future lord husbands." He was addressing them both, but his eyes remained on Lysa longer than they did on Catelyn, and as their lord father held open the door for his girls, it was Catelyn who dutifully stepped in first.
Her father had chosen the privacy of the solar as the venue of this first meeting, and as Catelyn entered the rooms, she could feel her heartbeat quicken. Lysa's outburst had made her forget her own nerves for a moment, but now she was reminded again of their existence. She took in a deep, calming breath, unable to meet the eyes of the two men just barely within her line of vision as she kept her eyes fixed on the floor. Catelyn did not look up until Lysa, and her father had joined her in the room.
"Lord Stark," her father spoke, and now Catelyn forced herself to meet his eyes. She noted they were grey and looked very serious. "This is my daughter, Lady Catelyn. "
Catelyn made a curtsey and was rewarded a solemn bow in return, but not many words.
"It is an honor to finally meet you, my lady," he spoke- not very gracefully but at least with perfect politeness.
"It is I who am honored, my lord", Catelyn replied in the same solemn manner. In the corner of her eye, she saw her sister being introduced to Lord Arryn, and as soon as she was assured that Lysa was fulfilling her duty with appropriate behaviour, she allowed her glance to travel back at her own fiancé.
His eyes, it seemed, had never left her while she had looked away, and Catelyn felt herself blush under his steady gaze. She had not been sure whether she rather hoped or feared that he would look like Brandon, but she found herself now quite relieved to learn that there was a tiny resemblance. Eddard Stark may have been Brandon's brother, but already after their first exchange, she could tell he was a very different sort of man. In a way, Brandon had been right, Catelyn thought. This man was indeed a less charming, less handsome, and a less tall version of Brandon, and she could have added even more lesses, for he also seemed to be less talkative and less personable than Brandon, but still...Catelyn wondered...there was something in those grey eyes that seemed to suggest he might also be something more if she could ever find a way to penetrate them.
As the wheels in Catelyn's head turned, she realised the room had gone quiet. The formal part of the introductions was over, and Lord Arryn had already led Lysa to take a seat with him near the fireplace. When she glanced at Lord Stark again, she realised the look in his eyes had turned expectant. Neither of them had spoken since the first introduction.
Casting her eyes one more time around the room, Catelyn quickly observed that, with the seats by the fireplace already occupied, the only place where they might share a moment of relative privacy was the small alcove by the window at the opposite end of the room.
She turned to the young lord again with more assurance. "Would my lord like to see the view from the window?" Catelyn asked.
"It would please me very much," the man replied, seemingly grateful for the idea. A little hesitantly, he offered her his arm, and Catelyn took it without a word, allowing him to escort her to the window.
It was a strong arm, she thought. Strong and steady, just like the man it belonged to. But there was little time for more observations as they reached the alcove, and it was time to break the physical contact.
Catelyn was the first to sit down, and Lord Stark – perhaps she ought to start thinking of him as Eddard now – took a seat next to her, careful to maintain a respectful distance as he did so. Another aspect where he differed from Brandon.
"I'm sorry, my Lady Catelyn, that our marriage has to be such a hurried affair," he spoke without waiting long. It seemed they were the words he had wanted to speak from the moment they had been introduced. "I know you had years to prepare for...." he trailed off, clearly finding it difficult to put into words the fact that she had been betrothed to his brother. " And now all of us a sudden it's me and not...." He halted again, and Catelyn took pity on him. Until now, she had only thought of her own discomfort, but she understood with sudden clarity that no matter how difficult this was for her, it had to be even more so for Eddard. He had lost a brother and a father while she had only lost a man she had thought would one day be her husband, and now he had a week barely to wed his brother's betrothed before riding to war again in search of his sister.
Instinctively, Catelyn reached out her hand and placed it on Eddard's, squeezing his fingers lightly.
"You have nothing to apologise for, my lord," she said gently. "This may not be the ideal way to begin a marriage, but I know the fault is not yours. And I know your losses have been greater than mine."
He bent his head down at her words, and Catelyn took the opportunity to continue, hoping to reassure him: "I do wish I could get to know you better before we must be apart again, but I also want this war to be over, and I know it won't be if this marriage doesn't take place to unite our houses. Or perhaps the war would be over, but to our loss rather than our victory."
Now Eddard was looking at her again, and Catelyn thought she saw a new expression in those grey eyes she still found so hard to read. Was it admiration, or did she only wish that it was?
"Then I shall endeavor to bring this war to and end as soon as possible," he said earnestly. Then, thinking perhaps that he had not said enough, he added: "I wish I could offer you better words and promises, but I'm afraid I don't have a talent for expressing myself by any means other than my actions."
Whatever his flaws as a conversationalist might have been, at least he was very considerate, Catelyn thought. In fact, it occurred to her soon; he was more so than Brandon had been.
"You are a good man," she said, trying again to shake off the thoughts of Brandon that kept surfacing, un-beckoned. She couldn't keep comparing the two forever.
"And yet here I am, claiming your hand when your heart must still belong to my brother," Eddard replied, almost as if he had guessed her train of thought.
Catelyn blushed, looked down at her hands and then up at the face of her betrothed. There was no accusation in his eyes, she was sure, but further, than that, his expression was heard to read. She then glanced at her father, who had joined Lysa and Lord Arron by the fire, seemingly anxious to ensure that Lysa would do her best to form an acquaintance. Catelyn judged the distance between the fire and the window to be sufficient to provide her and Lord Eddard enough privacy for a more open conversation, and thus she began:
"I will not pretend that I hadn't grown attached to your brother," she said, lowering her voice a little, "You must know I was engaged to him since I was twelve years old, and the long engagement gave me an opportunity to get to know him more than I will have the chance to know you before we marry. As for my heart..." Catelyn paused. What if her heart? Had she actually loved Brandon or just the idea of him? Sometimes she wondered if his death should have hurt her more. It did hurt, of course, and the shock of suddenly having to marry the younger brother had not eased the passing, but she hadn't felt the desolation she had thought such tragic loss of love should warrant. "As for my heart," she continued when Eddard looked at her expectantly, "It doesn't matter. The union that our fathers planned was always a strategic one, and it is even more necessary now than when it was first devised. I was fortunate to have more time to get to know Brandon but I hope in time you and I will be able to get to know each other too."
"That is my wish as well," Eddard replied
Catelyn found herself escaping her thoughts when she heard the door opening, the sound of little hands touching the door repeatedly from the other side brought a smile on her face; she put the piece of cloth she was stitching away in time to see Robb rushing towards her with a big smile on his face.
"Mother, Look what me and Rodrik did," Her little Robb said enthusiastically; she rubbed his red hair before standing up and following behind, his little hand grabbing hers and almost dragging her outside.
Cat walked faster for his sake, chuckling at his behaviour.
"Come mom, is this way," Robb said, trying to drag her again.
She laughed and walked even faster; the moment they left the walls of the castle, the harsh wind of Winter hit her face sending cold shivers in her body; her clothes warmed her but her face still unprotected, her cheeks and ear turned red, despite being five years, she wasn't still yet used to the cold of The North.
Walking around the balcony, they reached a staircase that led to the training yard.
Reaching the country yard, she saw Benjen's son trying to make sure a snowman wouldn't fall down; the brown eyes of Rodrik turned at her.
"My lady," he said respectfully towards her.
"How many times should I say it Rodrik, no more 'Lady Stark' you can call me aunt or Cat," Catelyn said, bored of the boy calling her like that.
Rodrik snickers at her tone, sticking out his tongue, but Robb walks over to him and put his hand on top of the snowman's head.
"How does it look?" Robb asked, his smiling conquering his face. The snowman was slightly taller than them.
"Is very beautiful Robb, but where's Sansa? Wasn't she playing with you?" Cat asked, noticing that her daughter was Nowhere to be found; last time she checked, she played 'King and Knight' with the boys.
"She's inside mother, the septa called her", Robb replied with a grunt at the end, showing his apparent dislike.
Cat sighed slightly sad; Ned had introduced him to the old gods, Cat had nothing against it but had argued that perhaps Robb should follow the Seven as well if his bride ended up being a southerner, her husband had let her, but it seemed the lessons for the Seven went inside Robb's ear and came out the other ear.
"Is beautiful Robb, but remember to visit your little sister today at least once", Catelyn demanded; she thought that it would be better for little Arya to know the whole family, to get used to them, to always recognise the faces of her family and not cry.
Despite being only a year old, Arya cried enough for three babies and didn't like to be held by wet nurses; her favourite was Ned, Robb and Rodrik.
Even Cat had trouble calming down her wild little girl.
"Very well, Robb don't stay out too long," Cat said, trying to kiss his cheek, but he ran away immediately.
"Don't worry lady Stark, he won't stay long?" Rodrik said with a grin with a small mocking bow.
Cat rolled her eyes and made her way inside; she couldn't wait until Ned arrived from Coat Moilin; the bed had been cold without him.
Ned Stark - 288 AC
Ned looked at the castle from afar; it had been quite a good five years, his brother stood close to him, the castle was ready; it had taken a long five years.
At first, his brother had refused to take the castle, trying to come up with any excuse, but Ned had shut him down, telling him that he deserved even more and that he should think of his own future children as well.
In the first year, Ned had started selling the wood of the North to Bravos, forcing him to leave The North many times, the wood of the North was good quality, and The North had more than enough.
At first, some of his lords had been specifically for making deals with Bravos, but Ned talked with Lord Karstark that he needed funds to rebuild Moat Coilin, his brother in all but names, Howland, had made a deal to sell some wood from where he lived.
Before the second year ended, his brother married Dacey Mormont in Winterfell; they both left to live in Moat Coilin after that day. The castle had been cleared, and hired people from the North to maintain the castle.
Having Rodrik Stark, the heir of Moat Coilin after 10 months, Ned had been very happy for his brother, and it helped that the castle was in excellent shape; Benjen had started selling grown food, glass gardens all over to grow food, goats for milk and other products.
Now Ned was planning to sell more than just wood; perhaps they could find something other than wood to sell; he planned to mine a few places around the North for rich minerals.
In the fourth year, Lady Dacey Stark was pregnant again and gave birth to a healthy girl named Synara Stark.
The girl had dark hair like a crow and almost dark eyes, with a grey hint.
Ned escaped his thoughts when his brother nudged his shoulder gently.
"Brother, have you received the reports from The Iron Islands?" Benjen asked with a slight sense of dread in his tone.
Ned sadly nodded his head; it had been three weeks since they got the first word that Iron Islands were building many ships, around 700 right now.
Ned, of course, could do nothing right now, but if the dammed Greyjoy attacked the North, the Winter would Come for Them, sooner than the Others.
Ned gave his brother a reassuring smile and patted his back.
"If they plan anything, The North will show why House Stark has ruled over the North for thousands of Years", Ned promised with a stone face, void of emotions.
Benjen nodded in slight relief; while he knew House Greyjoy were nothing in the frozen land, they were wet people of the salt sea; they didn't know how to fight in the dry land.
He didn't fear his own life, but just the thought of any of them wrapping their hands around his children or Dacey; was something he would never let happen.
"Come on then, tomorrow we are leaving for Winterfell, I'm sure you're missing Arya," Benjen said with a joking tone.
Ned smiled and rode away at the back of his horse.
Just the thought of Arya reminded him of Alyanna; he didn't know how his daughter was, how she looked like; all Ned could remember was her chubby face and violet eyes. Would she remember me?
Ned imagined her with long dark hair, violet eyes and a mix of Lyanna and Ashara, good with a horse, brave and free spirit.
He hoped to see her soon; he still remembered when Cat found out about her.
It had been a year after Robert's rebellion; his wife had heard the rumours for a lord time but hadn't confronted him for it until one day...
'The door of his solar opened slowly, Ned finished writing his letter and turned to see his wife sauntering, her hands clenched together in front of her belly, her eyes not meeting his, for a moment Ned feared that something has happened to her when...
"Lord Husband, can I ask you something?" Catelyn asked with a small tone. Ned almost didn't hear her.
Lord Stark couldn't help but wonder why his wife was calling him 'Lord Husband' all of a sudden; he had told her since the first night to call him Ned.
Of course, Catelyn had started calling him Ned, and she told him that he could call her Cat, but she called him Lord Stark or any other title only if they were in the presence of any of his banners.
"You can ask Cat," Ned permitted her and made sure to call her the name he usually used.
"Do you have a bastard daughter?" Cat asked and lowered her head even more.
Ned closed his eyes and took the largest breath he ever had, messaging his temples; he felt a headache coming, pinching the bridge of his nose.
He knew his wife sooner or later would ask, but it had been a year, and many times he wondered if she just didn't believe the words or just didn't care.
"I do my lady, so What?" Ned asked with a slightly higher tone at the end; he stood up, looking down at his wife.
"I didn't mean anything, I just wanted to know the truth my lord, I have nothing against her, I waited asking knowing your losses, and last thing you needed was more..." she stopped mid-sentence when Ned hugged her.
Pulling away, he smiled, a genuine one. "Cat, I hope we can end this discussion," Ned said, hoping this would be the end of it.
It has been four years now; Cat hadn't mentioned his daughter ever since, even when she found out that she carried the Stark name after Edmund Tully had sent her a letter.
Swallowing a breath, he decided to visit his daughter as soon as possible.
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