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Zynnw

Slumberous Scribe
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Feb 7, 2010
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HONOR BEFORE BLOOD

A Game of Thrones Mod - The Crowned Stag (Edited)


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I was just flipping around one of my favorite sites when I read an interesting story. It detailed a small change in the ASOIAF Universe that led to some big changes later on. This story was by a nice gent named Atri, who kindly gave me permission write an AAR based off of his story. Because of the nature of this divergence, the first chapter will be quite similar to his own.

Read his story here; though keep in mind that things will not quite be the same after a bit.


Aims and Rules
-I’ll be roleplaying the characters as much as I can.
-Story is paramount.
-I’ll happily cheat for the AI if it makes for a better story, though I limit re-loads as much as possible.
-Spoilers won’t matter here, because this is far before anything in the books. Assumes that R + L = J.


Table of Contents

PROLOGUE


1. Prologue - Part 1 [Jaime I | Eddard I]
2. Prologue - Part 2 [Jaime II]
3. Prologue - Part 3 [Cersei I | Catelyn I]
4. Prologue - Part 4 [Stannis I]
5. Prologue - Part 5 [Eddard II]
6. Prologue - Part 6 [Jaime III]
http://forum.paradoxplaza.com/forum...hrones-AAR&p=18241634&viewfull=1#post18241634

THE RED AND CLOTTING SEA

Chapter 1. [Jaime IV]
 
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HONOR BEFORE BLOOD

Jaime I


“Is it true? Did you kill them?” Jaime stalked through the open door, growling the words at his father. Tywin Lannister merely continued to sip his wine, looking over the goblet at his son.

“Kill who? You have to be more specific.”

“Did you have Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys killed?”

The-Mountain-that-Rides had been part of the Lannister force that had rampaged through the city, looting and burning. The beast had been one of the first into the Red Keep, scaling its walls. Jaime had originally thought to wait for the city’s conquerors in the Throne Room, yet it was with a sudden flash of terror that he realized the royal children could be in danger. Gregor Clegane had been one of the toughest men Jaime had ever fought, yet he had fallen just the same.

Yet now it seemed it was for naught. Jaimie has spent every waking moment guarding his young charges after his father’s first murder attempt. He had been so relieved when the honorable Lord Eddard Stark had arrived with his forces. And now they were dead.

“You mean: did I correct your mistake? I did. And you should be thankful for it, boy. In return, King Robert will take Cersei as his queen. You are dismissed from the Kingsguard and free to become my heir, as you always should have been. You are considered a hero and will soon be brother to a queen.”

As quickly as Eddard Stark had come, he had left again with a small retinue, heading south. In his place, Robert Baratheon had arrived at King’s Landing. Jaime rested that night, thankful that the nightmare was finally over. And while he slept, a deal had been struck.

His father smirked at him now and Jaime could feel disgust well up inside him. He knew that Tywin Lannister was a hard man. But to kill children? This thing before him was not a man. Not his father.

“How could you? The princess was just a young girl! Aegon just a babe!”

“Young they may have been, but they were a threat nevertheless. Best to pull out a weed now than to let it grow - remember that.”

“You disgust me.”

Tywin snorted disdainfully.

“We have gained so much from this war and lost so very little. As Lord Lannister, it is my duty to put the house before all else. You have yet to learn what it means to rule. You will be to one to make these decisions one day.

And those last words stopped Jaime cold. For just a moment, he imagined himself ordering the deaths of innocent children. What would he be in ten or twenty years? An unfeeling monster just like his father? Tossing children from windows?

Jaime had killed Mad King Aerys to save lives. He had gone against his oaths, because it had been right. Because it had been the honorable thing to do. Would he have any honor left as his father’s heir?

“No.”

The word felt good coming out from his mouth, his decision becoming solid in his mind.

“...no?” There was a dangerous undertone there, the old lion of the Lannisters baring his fangs.

“I won’t go to Casterly Rock. I will not be your heir. What you did was vile. What you are is vile.”

Jaimie turned away, his father’s words following him.

“I have forgiven you your mistake of saving the Targaryen children. It was the folly of youth. But, if you leave, know that I will not take you back. Casterly Rock and all the family shall be closed to you forever. You will no longer be a Lannister.”

For just a moment, Jaime hesitated. Then he walked through the open door, leaving his father behind.




Eddard I

The argument that took place between King Robert and Lord Stark, newly returned with his sister’s bones and a bawling babe, would enter into the stuff of legends. Whispered voices spoke of the confrontation; of how Lord Stark accused his friend and liege of being an oath-breaker for killing the children that he had promised he would keep safe and King Robert’s reply that he had only killed dragonspawn. Swords had been drawn and blood would have been spilt if Jon Arryn had not intervened.

The forces of the North were returning home.

“We lost too damn many men in this war, Lord Stark.”

Eddard Stark, Warden of the North and Lord Paramount of Winterfell, rode next to Greatjon Umber, the loud and boisterous not-yet lord of Last Hearth.

“Aye. We did.”

“We Northerners fought the hardest and bled the most! We broke the siege of Storm’s End when Robert Baratheon was pissing about for having a lil’ scratch. We formed the bulk of his forces at the Trident. So many of our lords are dead now. Torghen Flint and his lads. Maege Mormont’s husband. Even that right ol’ pain Rickard Karstark. At least we’ll be up one more number with you and Ashara Dayne’s little bastard there.”

A stern look from the lord to his large vassal let him know that he had overstepped his bounds. The two rode on in silence for a while before Greatjon spoke again.

“Look Ned, all I’m saying is that the North will be a lot emptier now. We need more men to rule it all. Bandits and the like are springing up all over.”

“I know. It's part of why I asked one of the southron to join us.”

-

“And I offer you to come with us, Ser Jaime,” Lord Stark could feel the young lord’s eyes searching him as he stood before the former Kingsguard.

“So you already know about my falling out with my father? The tearful split in House Lannister.” Jaime snorted. “I don’t need or desire your pity, Lord Stark.”

“It is not pity. You saved the children when you could and slew a tyrant. I know that you could not be woken for hours after they died.”

“My father’s precaution against another youthful mistake.”

Eddard nodded. “No doubt. But had you been awake, you would have tried to save them. You are a sole honorable man amongst beasts, Ser Jaime.”

“Not that it helped any.” The young man shook his head, his voice wavering.

“You are a good man. Perhaps the only good Lannister there is. We need honorable and good men in the North.”

The young lord clenched his eyes and spoke softly. “I will think about it, Lord Stark. Thank you.”

A night passed.

And Ser Jaime Lannister was there to ride to the North with them in the morning.

-

“Jaime Lannister?” Greatjon asked. “Ha. That will be a sight to see. A pretty man like him will freeze. He'll be back to the south in no time.”

Eddard looked to the future. If Robert ever found out that the fragile little boy that was being taken North was not Eddard’s own bastard but his sister’s by Prince Rhaegar, he knew that the the king would stop at nothing to see the child dead. Eddard would of course refuse to let Robert kill young Jon, in the process breaking his vows to serve the throne. He would have to raise his forces and Robert would raise his. If the king ever learned of the truth, war would begin again.

“No. I don’t think he will. He's a good man, one who the North can take as one of its own. With luck, he'll thrive there. And with what is to come, we might need a lion in the North.”

The big man looked at his liege, then nodded. Jaime Lannister would be one of them now.



 
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Interesting little premise. It'll be intriguing to see where this leads, especially with the tensions between Ned and Robert seeming to be still so high.
 
Sorry for the huge time lapse guys! Finals caught up with me and suddenly I had over 40 pages of writing to get done.

I have managed to finish the game this AAR is based on, so I now know exactly how I want the story to proceed.

Update on Wednesday!
 
HONOR BEFORE BLOOD

Jaime II


The ride north should have been an easy one. The Kingsroad was mostly clear, with the bandits that had sprung up during the war against the Mad King receding into the woods at the sight of the vast Northern host.

Instead Jaime felt as if he had a leaden weight inside of him; his limbs felt as heavy as iron and every mile he traveled seemed to tear a new hole in his heart. Yet, despite it all, it was only when the host stopped just south of Riverrun, over a month after the clash between King Robert and Lord Stark, that he finally let himself weep.

He had made the right choice. He knew this. But in rejecting the path his father had laid out for him, Jaime also knew that he had lost his family forever.

Poor Tyrion, only ten years old, would be all alone in Casterly Rock. A dwarf with a father who hated him and a family that mocked him. Already the boy was beginning to be bitter and resentful, finding respite from the world’s cruelties in the last few years only through his reading and in the few conversations he had with his older brother. Now Jaime’s repeated promises to the boy that he would look after him and be there for him tasted like ashes on his lips.

And Cersei. Dear sweet Cersei. As twins they had shared their entire lives with each other. Lived together. Laughed together. Made love together. Yet they had been separated by duty and honor. Now Cersei was to be a queen, while Jaime would be little more than a hired blade. Their paths would never cross again. It hard for Jaime to think about, yet the pain eased with the thought that Cersei would at least gain the power and position she always wanted. At least she would be happy.

But still he wept.

-

Finally leaving his tent a few hours later, Jaime grabbed a hot meal and a cup of drink before secluding himself at the outskirts of the army’s encampment. He knew he could have joined any of the Northmen’s fires but he felt out of place. Like he was a boy playing at being a man.

Lord Eddard has promised him a home in the North. Yet what was there for him? He had no house, no family, no friends…

“Oi, pretty boy, did you hear me?” A boisterous and powerful voice suddenly boomed in his ears.

Jaime looked up and saw a huge beast of a man looking him in the eye. He plastered a weak smirk on his face.

“No, I was too busy trying to find the bottom of this cup. And failing. What in the seven hells do they put in this Riverlander drink?”

Greatjon Umber grinned in return, a true and honest smile. “Ha, is it too much for you then? If you want you could come and join us by the fire, little lion. We’ll show you how Northmen drink.”

Jaime looked down at his cup and then back to the huge man in front of him, raising an eyebrow. “A man like you would simply take a drink like this down in a single gulp. Hardly a fair example to a frail southron lad like myself." He smirked. "But as far as your offer of companionship goes," The blonde knight swallowed, his voice still jovial but there was a slight quaver to it that he couldn't quite hide, "I… I think I'd like that.”

-

The pair walked through the camp, wandering far enough along that Jaime wondered if the giant had specifically gone searching for him. Eventually they reached a fire which roared in intensity, despite having only two figures gathered around it, a man and a woman.

As they approached Greatjon let out a laugh and spread his arms wide. “Rejoice, boy! We’ve got a right old lot of heroes gathered around this fire now. There’s me of course, the great and powerful warrior of Last Hearth." He pointed. "Over there is Maege Mormont, the vicious she-bear of the North!" Jaime could hear a vague grunt of satisfaction come from the woman. The Greatjon continued, gesturing wildly at a figure who was half hidden in the shadows. "And who could forget ol’ Roosey here. The brave man who saved my life at the battle of the Trident with his glorious cavalry charge. And now the circle is complete with you. Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer!”

Jaime winced. He hated that title, but it seemed that it would follow him to his grave. He looked at each of the faces of his new companions in turn. Greatjon Umber was a giant of a man, nearly seven feet tall with a thick beard on his chin. Maege Mormont was dwarfed in comparison, a stout woman with thick brown hair cropped short and a face that seemed most comfortable in a frown. Finally, ‘Roosey’ as Greatjon called him, was a thin man as pale as a ghost with dark hair and a spotted pink cloak on his back.

“…” The pale man’s stare held a milky white hue that wormed its way into Jamie’s head, making him feel cold. Something told him that this man was not one to be crossed.

Still, Greatjon laughed and sat down next to the man. “Oh don’t mind him, Kingslayer. This fellow is a bit of a grump, but I eventually managed to wear him down. He’ll get used to you in no time.” The large Northman suddenly wrapped an arm around the dark haired man’s neck and pulled him out of the shadows and into a sideways hug. Greatjon grinned. “Now be friendly, will ya Roosey?”

The man’s eye twitched, then he sighed and spoke. “Roose. My name is Roose. Of House Bolton. Lord of the Dreadfort.” Roose blinked slowly. Then he turned his head slightly to the side, as if listening to something. A small but cruel smile played on his lips. “Do not think that we did not notice it, little lion. You should not balk at your moniker. Kingslayer. A title that is direct, truthful, and to the point. A rarity when considering southron knights.”

Jaime face flushed. This was a mistake. “It’s none of yo-“

Lord Umber sprang to his feet, releasing Roose who slunk back into his seat. The giant of a man walked over to Jaime, put his hands on his shoulders and spoke. “Kingslayer, you don’t get to choose your name. I may have been named Jon once but now I’m called Greatjon. Greatjon is what I am. You may have been Jaime Lannister, but the second you stuck your sword through the Mad King’s gut you became the Kingslayer. It's the way of the world.”

Jaime could hear the Lady Mormont sighing in the background. “Greatjon-“

“I wasn’t there, but we’ve all heard how you got it. How you broke all of your sacred little vows and killed the king.”

“Greatjon-“

Lord Umber loomed over Jaime, his eyes cold. Jaime’s own gaze fell to the floor. “How you squirmed like a little boy in front of Ned as he named you as an oathbreaker. Then how you shamefacedly spoke all the rest, like a child explaining to his maester why he was late for his lessons.” The Greatjon’s voice became a roar. “How you were only made part of the Kingsguard in order to spite Tywin Lannister and remove his heir from succession. How you had doubts about your position for years, retreating back into yourself so you could obey the mad king.”

“Greatjon, for the sakes of all the gods, if you and Roose don’t stop your yammering and leave the man alone-” Mormont was standing now.

The giant seemed half mad in the fire light. “Aerys ordered you to kill your father. He planned to burn the city to the ground. So you killed him." Greatjon stepped back and his lips twisted into a feral grin. "Your actions saved tens of thousands of lives, Kingslayer. But that wasn't enough. You even went and tried to save the Targaryen brats, rescuing them from your father's men, if not from your father. Those southern lords may not realize what you really are, but the North does. And the North remembers. So don't be hiding from your name. Remember that you're the Kingslayer. It means you're a bloody hero."

Roose spoke quietly, cold eyes glinting in the fire light. "In the North, we do not hide what we are. We all must all survive together when winter comes."

Jaime stood there for a moment, a thousand emotions playing over his face. Then small fist slammed into Greatjon's stomach. The man grunted, eyes opening wide in shock, before he was slammed into the ground by the Lady Mormont. The stout woman proceed to sit on the giant man’s back, purposefully knocking Greatjon's head into the ground while glaring daggers at Roose Bolton.

She then sighed and looked over at Jaime, speaking gruffly. “While I agree with what these idiots were trying to say, you didn’t need it like that. You just need to know that you’re one of us now. We all celebrate it. In fact, we prepared something for you.” She motioned her head at Roose. “If you would?”

The pale man stood, bending low to grab something from his pack. With a small flourish he revealed a white-grey cloak.

Jaime tried to speak, suddenly exhausted. “What-“

“A gift.” The Lady Mor-, Maege spoke. “From us to you.”

"Aye," rumbled Greatjon, muffled by the ground.

“Made from the skin of a mountain lion.” Roose laid the fur cloak out. “A proper gift for the lion of the North.”


I had to rewrite this scene numerous times. Originally the scene called for Maege, Greatjon, and another lord, but I had to put Roose in there after I saw this in my game:

lt6YwJX.png
 
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That... is one of the most bizarre combinations I could think of.
 
“Roose. My name is Roose."
Completely lost it at this part. I don't know if the allusion was intentional, but it's hilarious either way.
 
Two updates coming soon:

Prologue Part 3 - Cersei, Catelyn
Prologue Part 4 - Stannis, Eddard, Jaime

Then the game will actually start in earnest. I'll probably speed up my updating time soon, as I just finished training at a new job.

Thanks for all the lovely comments about the budding friendship between Greatjon and Roosey!
 
This is quite an interesting premise! It is specially difficult to predict what will be your goal in-game. I hope there is some kind of civil war along the way, for being a vassal -and more soa vassal's vassal!- can be quite boring. At least for those religions that cannot raid, hahah.

And that friendship that you've got si quite suspicious, for obviously Roose wouldn't buid a relationship up without having further goals... Let's see what do future updates bring us!
 
HONOR BEFORE BLOOD

Cersei I


Cersei Lannister lay in her bed the night before her wedding, dreading the coming morning. She had been told by her handmaidens over and over again that King Robert was the image of a martial prince: powerful in arms, tall in stature, and oh so very handsome. While not as beautiful as Prince Rhaegar and lacking the boyish charms of her beloved Jaime, Robert was supposed to be everything that Cersei had ever wanted in a match. Yet when she thought of the elaborate ceremonies planned for tomorrow that would make her Queen of Westeros, of the man she would be bound to for the rest of her life, all she could feel was a cold and painful hatred coursing through her veins.

It had been the conspiracies of Robert Baratheon that had seen her brother exiled from the court. Father had ordered the murder of the Targaryen brats but it had only been done to gain the approval of the new King. While she cared little about the killing of the dragonspawn, it was Father’s plotting and the Robert’s resolution to destroy the Targaryen line that drove Jaime away.

Officially Jaime had been disinherited as a natural consequence of being expelled from the Kingsguard. While Aerys had obviously been mad, in killing the Mad King, Jaime had broken all of the sacred oaths he took when he joined the order. For him to remain in the organization would be to brook the whispers of all the nobility of Westeros, something unacceptable to both the King and the House of Lannister. Yet rather than becoming the heir to Casterly Rock again, it was decreed that Jaime would lose his place in the family.

A man who entered the Kingsguard had to abandon his family name and all his former obligations. King Robert thus declared that even in leaving the order, Jaime would retain that empty status. As a former-Kingsguard, he could not inherit Casterly Rock nor could he claim support from the rest of the Lannisters. The nobility assumed that it was a stern reminder to all of the Seven Kingdoms of the duties of the Kingsguard and a mild rebuke to Tywin, even if his son had saved the city. If the circumstances were different, they whispered, the closest thing to mercy Jaime could have gained would have been a quick death.

In truth, neither Father nor Robert cared about the fact that Jaime had broken his vows to kill King Aerys. Instead Cersei knew that they both only wanted to punish her brother for daring to go against their new order by trying to save the young Targaryen prince and princess. For daring to stand up to Father. Poor brave, gallant, and utterly naïve Jaime.

And after all this, she was supposed to marry the same Robert Baratheon. The supposed Great Stag of the Stormlands. She didn’t know whether she should laugh or cry. While Cersei knew the rest of the Seven Kingdoms saw the man as a glorious hero and honorable savior, she could see him for what he was: the monster who had exiled her other half and a brute that would rather have Father kill children for him rather than stain his own hands.

She could still remember her grand entrance in the smoking ruins of King’s Landing at her father’s demand. She had gone directly to Father’s quarters in the Red Keep rather than presenting herself at court, desperate to find Jaime by his side. Instead Father had ripped out her heart and made it quite clear to her what her new position in life would be.

-

“Where is he?”

Cersei was near breathless and as she reached her Father’s study. The office of the Master of Coin had been part of King Robert’s purchase of her womb, once it was made clear that Jon Arryn would be the Hand of the King, and Father had immediately begun to set up residence in the high tower.

Tales had spread across the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms of the sack of King’s Landing. Of how much of the city was destroyed, of how her brother killed the Mountain in single combat. That the Mad King had attempted to burn the city down, his alchemists only stopped after Ned Stark and Jaime took action. Yet she had heard nothing of where her brother was now.

Father didn’t look up from the papers before him. Numerous letters were scattered on the desk before him, correspondence with lords from across the Seven Kingdoms. Finally, he spoke. “Dead.”

Cersei could feel her heart leap into her mouth. Her vision went white for a moment before she collapsed into the chair behind her. Jaime. Dead. Nothing seemed real. She quickly blocked out the pain as she reached for the only thing she could. She wanted revenge. She needed revenge. Cersei spoke one word that seemed to hang in the air of the room.

“Who?” she hissed.

Her father glanced up at her for a moment before returning to his writing.

“Father." How could he simply not react, she wondered. Jaime was dead. Tears in her eyes, she spoke again. "Who dares strike at the House of Lannister?”

“Himself." His voice was cold, with a slight mocking edge to it. "That fool is dead to us now. His naiveté almost cost us dearly, so I excised him from our family. He is no longer one of our kin. He is dead.”

Cersei blinked for a moment as the words washed over her and then the full force of her fury swept her up.

“You mean to say he still lives?” The words were said through gritted teeth as she stood again.

“No. Perhaps a Jaime Lannister rides North with the Stark’s host, but to you he must be dead.”

Rage overcame her. “How dare you! You vile monstrous man. How dare you tell me this garbage and not even look me in the eye!” Cersei’s hand moved unbidden, rushing through the air to reach her father’s face. To hurt him any way she could.

Father caught her arm easily, his eyes now burning into her as he rose from his chair. His grip became a vice and he spoke, his voice dangerously low.

“Family is what matters above all else. A legacy to leave behind. Jaime was unwilling to do what was necessary to preserve the family. He could not be a true heir of mine. There is no need in the family for a weak Lannister. So he is dead to us.”

The hand gripped tighter and Cersei whimpered.

“And now you reach out to strike me? You dare to call me vile? The fool said the same thing. Yet I will not let you to become the disappointment he was. Already you have failed fail me. You neglected your obligation to present yourself at court, only to pester me with this triviality? When you are to be the Queen of the realm? No. I will not allow the family name to be disgraced by you children.”

“Father… I won’t…”

“Won’t? I have provided everything for you. Everything you have ever known has come from me. You will do as you are told. You will open your legs for the Baratheon brat. You will give him two boys, one to rule and one as a spare. Then you will provide the realm with a daughter or two for alliances among the noble houses. There is any hardly room for you to fail. Let us see if you can manage that.”

“I…”

“You will do your part. I will do mine." Father let go of her hand, turning from her. He clasped his arms behind his back. "After you marry, I mean to do as well. Casterly Rock needs an heir.”

“But Mother-”

“You will not speak of her. I know my responsibilities, despite my own desires. Did you think that I would give Casterly Rock to one of your children? Or perhaps you thought I would leave the Westerlands to the little wretch that some men dare to call my son, that kinslayer of a dwarf? I will be dead in my grave before I see one castle in the realm go to the lowest of the Lannisters. An heir is needed. If a suitable one does not arise, then perhaps one of your children will make do. But if it become necessary, I will raise the child personally. I have been far too lenient with you all, that much is clear."

Cersei stood there, shaking in silence. After a few moments, Father turned. "What are you waiting for. Go and meet your King.”

-

And so Cersei went. It had taken her three full weeks to piece together the whole story of what took place between her father and her brother. And finally she came to a realization. As she lay in bed, she knew she hated everything. She hated Father for forcing her to become a breeding sow to an oafish brute. She hated Robert for exiling her brother and for new his power over her. But most of all, she hated herself.

When it came down to it, Cersei knew she was more of a failure than either of her brothers could ever be. While Tyrion may have killed their mother with his birth, Cersei had ended Jaime’s life through her own actions. Her plotting, her scheming, everything she had planned had turned against her. She only realized far too late that she was not truly a player, but a pawn in a game far above her head. Before the war, she had been the one who urged Jaime to the join the Kingsguard. She had been the one to pull the strings to allow Jaime to get his chance. She had been so sure of her victory when he became the youngest Kingsguard inducted ever. Yet Aerys had only accepted him into the order as a deliberate slight against their father. Her attempt to remain together with Jaime at court had only seen her whisked off to Casterly Rock so that Father could mull over what his plans for revenge would be.

Now her brother was an exile, disinherited and pronounced dead by their own father. In the dark of the night, Cersei knew it was all her fault.




Catelyn I​

Family. Duty. Honor.

The words echoed again and again in her head with each step she took from Riverrun. The words reminded Cat of her responsibilities as much as they desperately made her want to turn around and return home.

Home.

She couldn’t even call Riverrun that now. It was hard to believe that she had become the Lady Stark, even after Brandon had been killed by the Mad King. When she first heard of his betrothed’s death she had been horrified, but a tiny part of her had been relieved. The Wild Wolf had never wanted to marry her. And Cat had felt the same, knowing him to be a rash and violent man. The arranged match had weighed heavily on her mind as their day of marriage approached but suddenly she had been free.

Now, however, she was married to a man she knew nothing about. Eddard Stark had been a shy boy; Cat had only seen him a few times in her visits to Winterfell. His host moved south, they were betrothed, and then suddenly they were married. The new Lord of the North had gone south to fight after one night in her bed, ensuring he got his Riverlander troops, and had come back north with a bastard boy in tow.

The act both galled her and made her afraid. Who could take such a hold on the Lord Stark’s heart that he was willing to shame her and dishonor himself for a young bastard boy? Eddard had likely been planning to marry another before Brandon died, perhaps the same woman who bore his child. Yet now her marriage with him was supposed to take the place of that romance? Whispers around camp spoke of women like Ashara Dayne and others, each more beautiful than the last. Each a memory she would have to compete against in order to earn her proper place. She was afraid.

She wanted to run. It wasn’t fair that she had to do this. She knew her duties as a woman from a powerful house, but it still hurt that her father would descend to using her as a bargaining chip. No matter what she did, she knew she couldn’t flee from this, couldn’t make it go away. She had her duty. And she had gained a reason to fight. With the bastard remaining at the Winterfell, she would have to remain ever watchful to ensure that her own son’s rights were respected.

Her beautiful Robb.

Indeed, young Robb Stark was a Tully boy, through and through. Though he was the offspring of her brief union with the Lord of Winterfell so many months ago, he had her auburn hair and his grandfather’s eyes. While Jon “Snow” would have his father’s looks as he grew older, the entire north would know that the Tully blood would rule in Winterfell. Perhaps then friendship could arise again between the North and the Riverlands, for what little comradery had been forged between the realms in the fight against the Mad King had little hope of enduring now.

Much like her own mood at the return of her husband, Riverrun had turned from a welcoming, if apprehensive, place of rest for the Northern Host to something very cold and vicious. Doors became shuttered, granaries were closed, and it was made clear that the Northerners would have to quickly move on for the insult paid to Riverrun by the duplicity of Lord Stark or face reprisal.

Granted only a few days of rest, the host moved onward with a wary eye and Catelyn moved with them. Several Riverlander knights had come to Catelyn and her father before she left, offering to attack the Northern army posing as bandits in order to help give her recompense for her tarnished honor. She had turned them away herself, forcing them to give an apology that they all knew was not heartfelt. If she was to live within the belly of the beast, she could not make any false moves.

She felt almost totally alone. The Lord Stark certainly spent no time with her, always deep in discussion with the Northern Lords. The only bright light in her travels was the company of Jaime Lannister, the young Southron knight. Opinions in the Riverlands had been divided over whether the young lion should be considered a hero or an oathbreaker for killing the Mad King, but after some time with the man, Cat had decided firmly upon the former. Far more interested in what was in her head than in what was between her legs, Jaime had proven himself a true friend. They spoke frequently, though often only briefly, of the lives they had left behind.

There was sadness to the man, but also a strong nobility that let him stand tall in his saddle. Catelyn resolved to adopt the same stature; she could not afford to become bitter and resentful of her place. Indeed, while she was a stranger in a strange land, there was a certain beauty to the North. And perhaps in time she and the Lord Stark would spare more than a few words and loveless nights with one another.

Perhaps.
 
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