Chapter 51
Chapter 51
Catelyn didn’t understand what to do. Or how her fortune turned out this bad so fast.
First she was engaged to a barbarian.
A Northern brute.
If she cried on Lysa’s shoulder and allowed Petyr some liberties in her desperation, no one would ever know. Her only hope was for her match to be tolerable and her betrothed, bearable.
He wasn’t.
Brandon Stark was alike her worst nightmare come to life.
It wasn’t just that he loathed her, loathed her family, loathed the South. No. Those were the least of his grievances. He didn’t have to like anything, just uphold the terms of contract. Do his duty. Nothing else.
But if there was one thing Catelyn couldn’t, no wouldn’t stand for it was her future husband shaming her. And shame her he did. Publicly. It wasn’t just that he had a paramour he wished to marry. As if she didn’t. Catelyn Baelish sure would have sounded better than Catelyn Stark. Stark what? Stark naked? But visiting brothels? While meeting his future wife? Did he have absolutely no tact or shame?
She was secretly glad when her beloved Petyr stood up for her honor that day. Even if she couldn’t cheer. At least openly. Oh, how much she wished for his victory! For that brute to be cut down. Regardless of the vengeance of the North. Regardless of the fact that her father would never let her wed a minor Lord instead of a future Lord Paramount.
Alas, it was not to be…
But still she prayed. Prayed in the Sept every single day. Prayed to the face of the Stranger. She should have chosen the Maiden. Because her prayers? They rang true. And were answered.
Her hated betrothed was no more. Killed by his own foolishness in the most humiliating way. The stain to her reputation was washed away with his own blood. No longer was she tied to those Northern brutes. No longer would she have to dread living in a realm of a Godless people.
What kind of religion worships trees anyway?
But her relief was premature.
Her father, in his persistence, found her yet another brute to marry. And regardless of her dearest wishes, this one didn’t succumb to a mysterious ailment, or fall of his horse before their wedding.
And so she was married.
To her worst nightmare.
To a Northern brute.
And there was nothing she could do about it.
She couldn’t even pray.
At least their marriage was a proper one. For the lack of a Godswood, her husband had to settle for a Sept. And she was glad. Until she heard whispers of bastards and marriage. Of the authority, and legitimacy of foreign Gods in Winterfell. Of North and South. Of how she was foreign. How she didn’t belong. And never would.
But she didn’t pay much mind to those. She was a Lady after all. What does she care for the gossip of the smallfolk? Not that it stopped her from getting the culprits flogged and thrown out of the castle. She didn’t care. She had her little Robb after all. Her beautiful baby. Her darling, with his Tully-red hair. Nothing like his brute of a father.
As if she would want to bring more barbarians into this world!
Things seemed to be getting better…
Mayhap that brute would do her a great favor by getting himself killed in the rebellion and leaving her a rich widow Regent. Free to marry once more to one of her own choosing. Or even, Seven forgive her, living in sin with her Petyr until she was done ‘mourning’.
But it was not to be.
That barbarian dared to come back. And with a bastard, no less.
That was the day when she promised herself that no matter what it takes, that creature wouldn’t threaten the rights of her own children. He would never even dare to think about it. She would make sure of it. She wouldn’t rest until that little beast is gone. To the Wall or the Stranger is of little consequence.
And as time passed by, some things got better.
Or maybe they just got easier…
She got used to her husband. Mayhap even became fond of him. Fond enough to birth him five children, that is. And he was grateful! He even built her a Sept!
As for guiltiest pleasure? She was allowed to treat the bastard as she wished! From housing him in the coldest and smallest room in the servants’ quarters, to banning him from any lessons with the Maester and meals at the family table... She tried it all. Surely it shouldn’t take too much to break the pitiful creature? Make him feel unwelcome? Oh, if only her shame was a girl… There was only so much she could do to a boy that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows, after all.
But no matter what she tried, the bastard didn’t show any signs of breaking. It was as if he didn’t even care. It was as if he dared to find no shame in his sinful nature. And he one thing he definitely dared to do, was to outshine her Robb! She wouldn’t stand for it!
But one day, it seemed that her prayers were finally answered!
Jon Snow disappeared.
She didn’t even notice at first…
No one did.
Not until Sansa embarrassed herself in front of the Royals by introducing some distant and very much legitimate cousin as ‘their family’s bastard and shame’ due to some bad lighting and a slight resemblance. And sadly, unlike the King, the Karstarks found absolutely no mirth in the situation. But what did she care that some barbarians found offence at their hospitality? It was good riddance that they left! Housing and feeding so many brutes was draining the family coffers!
She was happy!
Her bane was gone! She was finally free! After so many years…
But the feeling didn’t last.
Because her husband certainly didn’t share her sentiments. He grew worried. Restless. But she knew him enough to know that it wasn’t with worry for her shame. No. It was something else. He was so engrossed in his concerns that he didn’t even stay for their Bran. Their little boy that may have never woken up.
Turns out that for all that she grew to care for him, for all that she valued her marriage, her husband didn’t feel that way at all. Because what kind of father and husband abandons their family in a time of need? And was it just to ‘help’ a friend he hadn’t seen in years or for the sake of his own ambitions?
Now, she would never know…
Because her husband is dead.
Gone.
Forever.
Arya, regardless of, or maybe because of her terrible manners and unladylike behaviour, may be as well…
Sansa, her darling that was made to be Queen, a hostage in King’s Landing…
Bran, her crippled child, who came awake only to go missing…
Rickon, her baby, held prisoner by that ungrateful Squid…
And Robb, the son she had raised almost single-handedly is now the son that fails to listen to her advice. It doesn’t enrage her as much that her child had became a supposed kin-slayer by chasing ‘justice’ for some Lannisters that she does admit would have made for valuable hostages. It’s not like she would ever consider northern brutes her kin after all. And hopefully, neither would Robb. But the Karstarks had dared to question their liege lord. They deserved their punishment. After all, no one hears of any Lords, even kin daring to backtalk or question the decisions of Tywin Lannister! How is the Lord Paramount of the North different from that of the Westerlands?
No. The fact that her own child that she had raised properly to be what a true southern lord should be (neglecting that she had never received any ‘lordly’ education other than that that makes one a dutiful wife) to bring civilization and culture to the land of barbarians failed to heed her advice. Those actions of her son have now lost much support of his bannermen by his rash actions. And made certain enemies of the Lannisters. If only her child chose to conceal the deaths of the captured Lannisters. If only… If only he saw her reasons for the release of Jamie Lannister…
But her son chose ‘love’ for some commoner whore over his duty! And he is now the son that keeps her under lock and key alike some common criminal. Her! His own mother!
Catelyn Stark wishes she could go back to being Catelyn Tully more often than not these days. Perhaps even to be caught during one of her many trysts with Petyr and be married in haste and embarrassment. But she would have lived through the shame to persevere as it would not be for duty but for love.
But she knows just who to blame for this entire disaster that her life had become. It was surely that bastard! Jon Snow! That sinful abomination brought this into their lives! His disappearance couldn’t be a coincidence!
And not for a moment did Catelyn Stark stop to think, that maybe, just maybe, it was the presence of the very bastard that she cursed, that kept the storm at bay.