Chapter Text
Catelyn looked around her husband's solar. It was smaller than the one she remembered her Father using. There was no windows, just a door leading out to the Family Wing of the Keep and another that accessed a small dining room. There was little decoration, at least decoration in the southern sense, no gold or jewels. When Cat first arrived she'd thought the solar unbefitting of a Lord Paramount.
She'd learnt to see the luxuries that marked it out as a room of the Warden of the North: the huge bear pelts that covered the floor, a polished axe with a whittled shaft, a Moose head carved from wood which sat above the hearth, a set of dull silver cups with green tinted accents sat on to the side near some wine, a stone bowl carved with runes rested beside a large bookcase made from unique wood from the Neck, and a greatsword wrapped by a rusted chain sat in a place of honour near the far door. Not to mention the large tapestries that covered the walls. They were done in a northern style, thick seams with bright and distinct colours. They depicted events reaching back thousands of years, the oldest sat behind the Lord's chair that had supposedly been redone around the time of the Conquest, depicting a man with a wolf pelt cloak standing before what could only be the Wall. Things that she had once taken for cheap trinkets in fact marked the North's loyalty to her husband, to his family.
Cat poured herself some wine and stood near the fire, a servant had kindled it low, as they did every morning. There was some fresher kindling, Ned must have been in here before going to the Godswood. Cat shivered, recalling the look Ned had given her when he dismissed her. She straightened from her hunch, no matter what she had said, she would ensure Ned understood that she was his wife, not a child to be disciplined. Downing the rest of her cup, she heard footsteps echoing down the hall outside.
Ned came in, silently poured himself some wine and sat. Then quiet as his moniker, he took a moment to rearrange some papers on his desk.
"Please sit Cat."
He sounded calmer. she took the chair opposite and waited. Ned looked up and she saw the conflict in his eyes. Her husband was unsure of what to say.
"I'm sorry I spoke so harshly in front of the children. I should have been more controlled."
Cat didn't feel the need to retort. Ned rubbed his eyes and sat back in his chair.
"I'll speak with Arya tonight, she was incensed when you left."
"It's time she began taking things more seriously." She said.
"Cat, this has nothing to do with Arya's… willful nature. You insulted Jon, she won't forgive that easily. You know she idolizes him."
That got her blood running. She loved her daughter, but she had the "Wolf Blood" as Ned called it and rejected any attempts at acting as a Lady should.
"Perhaps if you had fostered Snow elsewhere this would not be happening."
"I told you then and I'll tell you now, Jon will remain here."
"Ned, do you ever wonder why we've never had offers of fostering?" Her questions threw him off balance, not for long though.
"Catelyn, you cannot believe that the Lords of the North have been kept away because Jon lives in these halls."
"He does not just 'live in these halls'! He is treated nearly as true born! You allow him liberties no bastard should be afforded. Why would your vassals want their heirs to be sent somewhere they'd be treated the same as your bastard? Why else have we received no offers?"
Cat had been holding back on this point for the last few years. As much as she loathed the idea of sending her children away from her side, she could clearly recall the fosterlings who'd come to Riverrun with the Lords to meet with her father. Little Petyr had fostered at Riverrun and she had fond memories of her foster-brother. It was somewhat insulting that no one had proposed Bran or Rickon, or even Robb could find a place with them; not that she would agree to it, but it was the principal of the thing.
"We have."
"What?"
Ned went to refill his cup, keeping his back to her.
"We have had offers. For most of the children… even Jon."
Cat let him fill her cup as well.
"And why did you not share these offers with me?"
Ned had the decency to look away.
"Please Ned. Give me an honest answer."
"I knew that you would push to send Jon away. But if I send Jon to the Hornwoods or the Tallharts, the rest of the Lords would expect Bran to do the same, some would even ask for Arya. Fosterings quickly lead to betrothals, something the children aren't ready for."
"Sending a bastard to foster is not an open invitation!" Cat protested.
Ned sent her a strange look, "Cat, a Great House does not send its children out freely. No disrespect to your family but the Tullys do not have the weight of history that we Starks do. We must be very careful, the balance of the North is important. Do you think the decision to send me to the Vale was made on a whim?"
Cat bit her tongue at the comment on her family. Her Septa and Maester had always given House Tully equal status as the other Great Houses. It was only when she began learning about the North from Maester Luwin that she realised how distorted her education had been. The Tullys had always been in a precarious position as Lord Paramounts, the Conqueror had only gifted them the title because they were the most powerful House to first rebel against Harren The Black. Her ancestors had never been kings, powerful lords yes, but not kings.
Hearing other histories made it painfully obvious why the Tullys were considered the lowest of the Great Houses. They did not have the wealth of the Lannisters and Tyrells, the prestige of the Starks or Baratheons or the natural isolation of the Martells. The Riverlands was a disjointed realm, the battlefield for nearly all of Westeros' wars. The Tullys had spent 3 centuries maintaining their power but by virtue of sharing a border with 4 other kingdoms, her family had never been truly secure. Cat was old enough to remember her father's fear of House Darrys' prosperity and their favour with the Targaryens. She knew that he'd been relieved when King Robert had stripped the Darrys to the bone.
"Why did you bring him back Ned? Why?" This was the first time in years that Ned seemed willing to explain his choices for Snow. "Could you not have just left him with his mother?"
The Lord of Winterfell wouldn't look at his own wife. He was staring at a tapestry of Torrhen Stark kneeling at the Trident, the North remembered their own defeats as well as their victories.
"His mother is dead."
A shade in Cat's mind disappeared. The shadow of a faceless woman that had plagued her mind in the first years of her marriage had receded as the years went on but never left. There was always that fear that Snow's mother was waiting in some far off place, waiting for Ned to find her again and give Snow a sibling. Only, the knot in Catelyn's heart didn't disappear.
"Does Snow know?"
Ned shook his head.
"Was there no one else?"
"None who would care for him." Ned took another drink. "I was the only kin he had left." he whispered.
Catelyn heard him clear enough. 'Only kin? Was being his father not the proper title?'
When Snow was still an infant, she'd held out some small hope that Ned wasn't his father, that he was the bastard of some loyal Stark man who died for his lord. Maybe one of the men who travelled to Dorne and never returned. Her dreams were for naught, he grew to have a Stark's face, a Stark's hair and a Stark's eyes.
Cat knew that during their first months at Winterfell, many guests assumed she'd had twins; how else could there be a boy that mirrored her husband so easily. Those comments led to long nights in private, trying to figure out if her Robb truly was the eldest Stark, if perhaps his red Tully hair would give his future bannerman enough of an excuse to replace him. Could one mistake be enough to put Snow in his father's place?
Her paranoia wasn't lessened by Ned allowing the bastard a true born's education. She'd managed to put a halt to the personal lessons on Lordship but he continued to follow Robb in matters of Arms. A bastard with a talent for the sword was equally disturbing. Whispers of Blacksnow haunted her at times.
"Why here? Tell me that Ned. Could Lord Reed not have cared for him, kept him safe?" Cat was determined to know why he chose years of silence over explaining.
Her husband had wandered over to the bookcase and pulled out a worn tome, its pages yellow and flipped through to the end.
"This is one of the Stark records, it has the names and relations of every Stark that has lived in Winterfell, the year they were born and the year they died."
He placed the book on the desk, Cat could see her husband's hand in the names of her children. She purposely ignored Snow's name in one of the columns. Ned turned the page back. Rickard, Lyanna and Brandon stood out to her.
"When I left King's Landing. I was desperate to find Lyanna. She'd been missing for nearly a year, with no word or sight of her. When I found her… her body, all I could do was count the Starks in my mind. Me and Benjen. That was it."
There were tears hiding behind his eyes, his mind was far away.
"Then I found Jon. They all say he looks like me, when I look at him I see my father. How could I leave him behind? How could I leave a Stark in the South?"
Cat had never seen Ned like this, he rarely spoke of his siblings or the war, perhaps because it was so easy for him to be lost in them. Her hands were stiff, curled into fist. He was speaking as though Snow was a surprise, did he simply forget he'd lain with a woman?
"I didn't know you were with child. Benjen and I were alone, so was Jon. I claimed him readily, I went South to avenge Starks and I returned with a new one."
Cat was confused. Ned seemed dead set against calling Snow his son. Kin, Stark, Family yes, but never son. Was he on too ashamed? Could he not admit his vaunted honour was stained?
If someone else had been in the room they would have seen Ned lost in his memories but Catelyn had a deep frown while staring at her husband. Suspicions that had fled when Snow said his first words and frowned were creeping back into her thoughts. Snow was a Stark there was no doubt, which Stark had fathered was another matter.
The servants of Winterfell told many stories of Lord Rickard and Brandon. She remembered Brandon as a gallant and passionate man who she'd looked forward to wedding. In the corridors and portways of Riverrun he'd stolen kisses and she'd let him perhaps go further than was proper, but she'd been charmed by the Wild Wolf. It was the servants who told of the many maids who'd also fallen to his charms, they even spoke of Barbary Dusting and the many nights Brandon spent in the Rills. While at Riverrun he'd gone out with her father to visit some bannerman more than once.
"When did you find him Ned?"
"A few weeks before I came to Riverrun."
She knew Ned had visited King's Landing on his journey back North, that meant Snow must have been in either the Crownlands or Riverlands. Before that Ned had lived in the Vale.
"You were grieving, I remember it well. I was a stranger and I will admit that I was unsure how to comfort you in those early months. Even so, why could you not send him, even if he was your son, to a Bannerman? Any of them would have seen it as an honour to raise him. He would have been well taken care of."
Ned had downed another cup of wine. "I had to protect him Cat. I promised, and I keep my promises, even to the dead."
"Who did you promise Ned?" She asked quickly.
That had been too far. Ned shook his head and set down his cup. He stood and looked at her again then leaned against his desk.
"It's getting late Cately. You should see to supper. I have some letters to write."
The dismissal was clear. She stood and made to leave.
"Snow is three and ten Ned. He'll be a man grown soon and what will he do? Will he remain here, a hanger on that will haunt these halls till we pass on?"
Ned didn't respond, he was writing paying her no mind, but she saw his hand still. She left the solar and made for the kitchens. She hoped dinner passed quickly, she a lot to think over.
/
Ned met Maester Luwin the next morning in the elderly man's study. There were maps and records strewn about the small office.
"Good morning Luwin."
"Morning my lord," Luwin handed him a small bundle of letters, he began reading while Luwin finished his breakfast. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"Well enough Luwin, my mind has been wandering all day."
"I'm the same way. The Direwolves, the pups, Beorn's existence in of itself has set me off."
"Beorn's existence, Luwin?"
"If he's being truthful, then these 'Shepards' are a group I've never heard or read of. His robes and his talk of Greenseers reminds me of the Green Men of legend that supposedly live on the Isle of Faces."
They made their way to Ned's solar, where he put the finishing touches on some fresh messages.
"I'm more interested in those Histories he mentioned." Ned mentioned. "I have copies of the family records, but most of them are filled with harvest counts, coin tallies and agreements. I was taught my family's past by my father and Old Nan, not from a book."
"Many of the Great Houses have commissioned books recounting their great achievements and heroic ancestors." Luwin added. "I simply assumed the Starks would have thought such a thing a waste of money."
"So would I." Ned agreed. "I want you to search the library, if you need help grab Jon and Robb. I'll search my chambers and solar, perhaps I missed something when I returned after the Rebellion. But first I need these messages sent by raven to Last Hearth, Karhold, and Castle Black."
/
Luwin returned that afternoon with, Robb, Jon, some food and news that the library had been scoured but no sign of these histories was found.
"I did find several cupboards that had been hidden by the shelves, they held some very old insignia and what I believe to be older seals. Strangely enough, they all bear both Common and what I believe is some form of the Old Tongue."
Robb jumped in before Ned could ask anything. "We compared them to the runes down in the crypts, there's a few characters they share but otherwise its indecipherable." Jon nodded along with Robb's explanation. No doubt he was along for the entire adventure.
Luwin placed a small box on the desk containing a pile of iron and bronze disks and a few battered rings. The disks fit smartly in his palm, each one looked older than the last. The bronze ones were so worn that the only design he could make out was the faint outline of the Stark direwolf. On the iron disks the detailing consisted of the Stark Direwolf embossed on one side with a crown on the other. The writings as Luwin described, though faded a bit, was in the Common Tongue on the top and in some strange script along the bottom.
"Why is the Common so strangely worded?" Ned asked. "Blood… o?... Stark be in my bones… Let none doubt my right to… throne?"
"We believe the iron seals are from before the Conquest, my Lord." Luwin answered. "The bronze may date back to the before the Andal Invasion!" He could see Winterfell's Maester was excited just at the thought of touching such an artifact.
"What do the seals look like now Father?" Jon asked.
Ned opened up the large trunk along the wall and pulled out a smaller chest. Taking the large keyring out of his pocket he unlocked it, shifted through the content and finally revealed two steel disks of similar size to the boys' find. He passed the boys one each.
"Those seals are new, from what I understand my brother and father took theirs south. I had these made shortly after you were born."
The seals were elegant in their simplicity. Northern knots adorned the edges, the Stark Direwolf now graced both sides and "Winter Is Coming" was engraved underneath the sigil.
"I went over every corner of my chambers, I also checked the Throne Room for… I'm not even sure, a hidden chamber? We'll go through my solar another day. I need to speak with Beorn."
/