Chapter Text
Eddard & Catelyn Stark Residence.
Catelyn Stark placed the last washed dish on the drying rack, groaned and rubbed at her sore back, sore from both being bent over a sink and the soon to be born baby in her belly. There was only a week left until her expected due date and then Ned and her would get to meet their second little boy. Brandon, or Bran for short, they had chosen to name him, after Ned's older brother who had been the one to introduce them and because it was a tradition within the Stark family to name someone of the next generation Brandon.
She groaned again when a cry erupted from the baby monitor. Arya had probably dropped her toy wolf, Nymmy, named after the main character in that cartoon that's on the TV a lot, out of her cot while battling imaginary foes again.
She waddled to the living room, the cold seeping through her fluffy slippers and socks from the floors. It was summer and the Citadel wasn’t due to send a raven for many months but already there was snow on the ground. Ned called it the summer snow. That was the North, a cold paradise that snowed all year round. Catelyn had hoped that after five years living in the North she would have gotten used to it, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. Even now she wore two layers all wrapped up in a thick dressing gown unlike her husband. Ned would wear shorts and t-shirts in the dead of winter if she let him.
"Ned?" She whispered when she got to the living room, that was where Arya’s cot had been set up and where Sansa was sleeping as their room was being painted. Sansa had finally settled on a colour scheme, lemon yellow and silvery grey.
Her broad shouldered husband seemed even broader in the dark above their young daughter. The moon peeked through the curtains. The fire was low and almost dead in the fireplace and knew Ned would add some coal to keep it going through the night for their girls. Catelyn shivered and pulled the gown tighter. "Does she need fed or changed?"
He rocked Arya's cot with one hand and the other placed on his lips in a hushing manner.
Catelyn nodded too tired to ask any questions and trudged up the stairs, but stopped on the third step from the top and squinted at the overhanging light on the upstairs hallway. Off, on, off, on it flickering. She must remember to ask Ned to look at it in the morning.
"Mummy," A soft voice said before it trailed off into a yawn from the top of the stairs.
"Sweetie, what are you still doing up?" Catelyn felt a kick in her large stomach.
"Brushing my teeth." Her eldest daughter twirled her auburn hair, eyes glued to the floor.
"Sansa." She said in a warning tone.
"Can you tell me a story? Pleaseeeee?"
"Why don’t you ask your father, he's got lots of stories."
Sansa's nose scrunched up adorably, "Dad's stories are scary. You are better."
Ned did enjoy a good snark or grumkin story. Catelyn had enough monsters to last her a lifetime so she normally stuck with Princesses and knights and happily ever afters.
A pop came from her jaw when another yawn ripped out of her. "Sansa just go downstairs and ask your father for one." Catelyn didn't think she could make it back up the stairs awake if she went down again.
"But." Sansa started, Catelyn could already see a huff beginning to form even in her tired state. The red tint on her cheeks that matched her hair and a foot posed for a stomp.
"No." Catelyn cut her off. "It's either your dad's story or none at all."
At that threat, for the story obsessed four year old it was indeed a terrible threat, Sansa raced down the stairs, twin plaits bounced on her shoulders. The plaits were even and the parting was straight, not a wobble in sight, Ned had gotten much better at them.
With another shiver Catelyn headed down the hallway towards the bathroom, a catchy theme tune slowly got louder, a catchy tune which she easily recognised, and that shouldn’t be playing, especially at this hour.
She crept as quietly as a pregnant woman could and peered round her bedroom door, which was unnecessary if the light snores was any indication. A sleeping Robb was wrapped up in Ned’s arms, his thick red hair tucked under Ned’s neat beard, where a few grey hairs had started to grow in, much to her amusement. The T.V. screen lit up their sleeping faces. Robb wasn’t allowed to watch T.V. after dinner and Ned knew that. However they were cute curled up like that on top of the bed.
A smile began to form. Catelyn couldn't ask for a better husband and father. He helped Robb with his homework and played rugby in the garden, plaited Sansa's hair every night and told her stories and was the best at soothing Arya's upset stomachs and crying marathons.
Her smile slipped.
"Arya. Sansa." Catelyn whispered, horror curled around her heart squeezing it painfully making her chest hurt as she tried to get air to her lungs.
She hastily stumbled down the stairs, one hand on her belly and the other gripping the handrail, her panicked breathing sounded loudly in her ears. A cloud of frigid mist had gathered at the bottom of the stairs and the mist got thicker and thicker the closer she was to the living room, the cold numbed her lungs.
Catelyn could barely see her outstretched hands and once she finally made through the white blanket she fell to her knees beside the cot, the man gone.
Arya lay still as a statue, her little legs frozen mid kick and her eyes clenched tighter than her fists. Her lips a blueish purple and skin the same grey as her eyes which she inherited from Ned.
Trails of frost lined the sides of the cot and crept onto Arya's baby blankets, slowly going towards her baby girl. Catelyn grabbed her daughter before the moving frost could touch her and nearly dropped Arya. She was so cold to touch, like frost biting at her skin.
Arya opened her eyes and Catelyn swallowed a scream. Never in all her years had she seen such eyes. Not even as a Tully Hunter. Two blue eyes, as bright as stars, stared at her where grey eyes should be. Two more glowing dots appeared on the sofa. It was Sansa, the same had happened to her although her face was twisted in a silent shout.
Catelyn took them into her arms, and ignored the frost that crawled slowly across the carpet. She could still feel her daughters' heartbeat and whatever this monster was she wasn't going to let it get her children. Her arms tightened around her girls. She won't let it.
There was a slight wriggle that made Catelyn look down. It was Arya, pink blossomed on her cheeks and then the baby blinked, the blue glow disappeared, grey eyes replaced it and soon after the same happened with Sansa but it had changed back to a normal, natural blue. Catelyn sighed in relief which came out in a visible puff of air that interrupted small falling snowflakes. When had it began to snow? And inside? What sort of creature could cause this?
"Mummy?" Sansa asked and Catelyn had never thought anything sounded as sweet. She covered their heads in as many kisses she could fit until Sansa repeated herself, her voice less confused and more terrified, Catelyn saw Sansa's eyes locked onto something behind her. Catelyn slowly turned and gasped.
A tall creature stood at the foot of the stairs, thin white skin pulled taut over bones. The creature took a step on the snowy floor leaving no footprint in its wake, the armour it wore reflected snowy whites and winter blues and looked deceptively delicate in the moonlight that leaked through the windows.
The frigid air numbed her lungs and she quickly pushed Arya into Sansa's arms and nudged them behind her.
"Run, Sansa run. Get your sister to safety." Catelyn gave her a firm but panicked shove to the door when Sansa refused to budge. "NOW!"
Sansa snapped out of her shock and sprinted out of the house, her sister tight in her arms. Catelyn and a creature of nightmares stared off at each other as Arya’s cries faded.
The creature blocked the stairs, it cut off her way to Ned and Robb. It took another menacing step forward, eyes of death bored into hers, its hand reached for the sword attached to its back. Catelyn grabbed a bystanding vase and threw at its head. In a flash the monster had unsheathed the long crystal like sword and sliced the vase in midair. She gaped at it in shock, the plastic vase that Ned 'secretly' bought after Robb broke the glass one, had frozen when the blade touched it and then shattered into a million pieces.
No ghost, spirit or ghoul she had encountered had ever done that, and that it’s certainly no demon. Demons have black eyes not blue with an occasional horn. It might be a monstrous creature native to the North and no Hunter has gone past the neck in centuries. Except her but she had long since retired, had been once she married Ned.
In a single breath the creature moved, it flung Catelyn across the room and she instinctively curled round her belly, a throbbing pain was quickly overshadowed by a sharp one that erupted from her scalp when a frozen hand lifted her up by her hair, then pinned her to the fireplace, the fire long grown cold, the mantle dug into her back and cold hands bit into her shoulder.
A familiar warmth trickled down her neck but she ignored it, she was too busy trying to subtly grab the iron poker her Father bought them as a wedding gift. Her fingers slipped on the frost coated handle.
A nearing coldness made her look at the monster, an inch from her neck the sword stopped short, it was now close enough that Catelyn realised that the sword wasn’t made of crystal but ice, although not like any ice she had seen. It's unnatural blue eyes were not locked on her but her stomach. Her baby. The sword lowered, the point closer to her protruding belly.
‘Mother have mercy,’ She pleaded, frantically trying to grasp the poker, no longer trying to be subtle. It will not kill her baby boy, she won't let it. But still the poker evaded her grasp. She just needed a distraction, a distraction big enough for it to loosen its frostbitting grip.
The distraction came in the form of a scream, both Catelyn and the monster looked at the cause. Sansa stood in the middle of the room, the mist mostly disappeared, Nymmy loose in her hand. The monster slacked for a second but a second was all that she needed. She brought the poker up and hit the milky white skin and ran not caring that some of its pale blue blood splattered on her face. The swelling mist made it harder to breath but Catelyn continued, pulling a terrified Sansa behind her and out the door to where she left Arya.
"Sansa what were you doing back in the house, I told you to run." Catelyn shouted, arms curled around her throbbing belly. Something was very wrong.
"Arya was crying. Arya always stopped crying when she had Nymmy." Sansa hiccuped through the tears that streamed down her face.
"Just,” She took a deep breath. “Just stay here." Catelyn didn't wait for a response before she unsteadily marched back to her home. Mist flooded out of broken windows and the opened door. It eerily resembled smoke. Frost danced up the walls like climbing ivy until it encircled the whole house but Catelyn didn't care. She had to get Ned and Robb. They can't die.
She didn't make it very far when a blast knocked her off her feet. Catelyn could faintly feel the frost coated grass beneath her and a wetness that trickled down her thighs. She tried to stretch out her arm in the direction of the twin cries of her daughters but her body felt as if the entire world was crushing down upon her. The longer she lay there her eyelids grew heavier with every blink. The howling of the wind was quickly replaced with a high pitched wail and the coppery tang of blood filled her mouth as the darkness that skirted the edge of her mind claimed her.