Work Text:
Catelyn was on her way outside, walking across the hallway towards the stairs, as she suddenly halted at the window. Outside, below her, was Robb in his sword fighting lessons – together with Jon Snow.
Whenever she caught them both in their training, Catelyn could not help but had to watch. She did not know why. It was foolish, as she knew that it always filled her with dread. Perhaps she hoped to see that Robb was better than him. Or perhaps she hoped to understand Jon Snow’s technique and motivations better.
She did not know a lot about swords or fighting. They did appear quite equal in terms of skill, yet had very different approaches. Robb was rather light on his feet and overall more offensive, which made him appear superior in his attacks. But he was also slightly reckless. Jon Snow was more careful in his movements, but when he managed to escape Robb’s countless attacks, he had enough time to think – to strike at the right moment.
Catelyn prayed that those fights would never be more than just mere training. Not because she believed that Robb would lose – she just hoped there would never be a situation testing it.
There was a wide smile on Robb’s face as he brushed the sweat off his forehead. The other boy smiled too, although his smile was less expressive. Jon Snow was eleven years old now, but Catelyn still had trouble reading him properly. He was rather polite and knew his place; was quieter and more reserved than Robb. When he had been younger, his expression had been more emotional, allowing Catelyn to read his thoughts better. However, as he had grown older, he had also become more reserved – quite similar to Ned. And it worried her. She wished that she could judge him better.
What she wished for even more was for Jon Snow to be send away. But this was not her decision and Ned had no intention of sending him somewhere else any time soon. She had stopped asking him for it as well, as she knew that he would not grant her that wish. After she had arrived at Winterfell, learning about his bastard son, she had begged Ned to send him somewhere else – anywhere else. But he had simply told her that he had decided for him to grow up at Winterfell. His face had been cold and his words harsh, and Catelyn had reluctantly accepted his decision – partly due to fear of a man she had not known yet, and partly because she had no power over this either way. As they had grown closer, she had not feared Ned anymore, but had learned to love him instead. Yet his reaction to her pleading had remained the same. Whenever they talked about the boy, it usually ended in an argument. Catelyn had no interest in fighting with her husband, and she knew that it was pointless either way. He loved the boy and had probably loved the boy’s mother. Catelyn knew that there was nothing for her to do to change his mind. And the Gods knew that she had tried more than enough…
*
Four Years Ago
Catelyn hurried through the Godswood, her heart heavy and her mind racing, hoping to find Ned there. She did not like this place and she rarely ever disturbed him during his prayers, but she could not wait for him to return. She had to talk to him now.
She had just watched Robb and Jon Snow during their archery practice, and it had filled her with dread. Jon Snow was good – far better than Robb, who had no patience and had rarely ever hit the target. Perhaps they were only children now, but Catelyn had not been able to just stand there and watch – unable to shake the vivid picture of them, as grown men, standing across one another on the battle field, arrows piercing through Robb’s heart.
She knew that Jon Snow could not stay here. Ned might not want to send the boy away, but Catelyn knew that he had to leave. He was a grown boy now, not a toddler anymore – he would be fine elsewhere; better off, even. And surely, Ned would realise that as well – he must realise it.
She found him under the weirwood tree. He gave her a smile, asking about their children’s wellbeing like he always did.
“Robb is currently taking his archery lessons,” Catelyn informed him plainly, then added, “Ned … you have to send that boy away.”
He stared at her, the smile gone. He knew exactly who she meant, but he did not give her an answer and instead asked, “Did something happen?”
“You have to send him away,” Catelyn repeated her words firmly, not granting him an answer. “He has no place here.”
She realised that her voice was shaking now, so she tried to calm herself. She did not want to appear as too emotional. She needed her husband to see the rationality behind her words, not dismissing it as merely a woman’s hysteria.
He stared at her for a moment, a look of confusion and worry on his face. Then, he said, “I cannot send him away, Cat.”
“Why not?” she asked, her voice sharp. “You keep saying that, yet you have never given me any reason as to why he has to stay here. He would be just as fine elsewhere.”
“I just … I can’t.” The tone of his voice was almost pleading, but Catelyn had not sympathy for him. She did not understand why he could not at the very least grant her an explanation, and his voice and words filled her with anger instead.
“No other man would ever even think about keeping their bastards around,” she retorted, trying to keep her voice calm, although she could not control the sharpness in her words. “He does not belong here, Ned.”
Now, anger appeared on his face as well. “This is Jon’s home as much as it is yours. And he will be allowed to stay for as long as he might like.”
Catelyn just shook her head in disbelief. “Why is it that you care for me so little?” she asked then.
He continued staring at her, but his anger was gone now. Instead, the confusion was back on his face. “Of course I care for you,” he told her, perplexed at her words. “I love you, Catelyn.”
“I don’t believe you,” Catelyn retorted coldly. “If you truly loved me, you would send that boy away.”
She did not wait for an answer. She knew that he would not change his mind, no matter what she said. She turned around then, leaving, letting the angry tears fall down her face.
*
This had been far from the only argument about this, but no matter what Catelyn told him, Ned would not send Jon Snow away. After that argument inside the Godswood, he had come to her bedchambers later in the night, telling her that she did not need to worry and reassuring her of his love. And she had forgiven him – because she knew that he loved her; because she did not want to argue with him; and because she knew very well that he would not change his mind.
It might ease her worries a bit if she knew that Ned had a future planned for the boy. But it did not seem like it. And Catelyn refused to think about his future herself, as he was not her responsibility. But she still wondered what that future might look like. Would he remain at Winterfell forever?
She sighed, watching her son and Jon Snow in training. Then, suddenly, Jon Snow looked up and their eyes met. He stared at her for a moment, shock on his face. Then, his gaze went to the ground before focusing on Robb again. Robb attacked another time. This time, Jon Snow did not dodge the attack – instead, the wooden sword fell out of his hand and onto the muddy ground. Robb cheered, celebration his victory, but Catelyn could not rejoice with him. Has that been on purpose?, she wondered instead.
Jon Snow was a difficult boy to read. Perhaps, he had lost on purpose to deceive Catelyn – making her believe that he was not so good after all. Or perhaps, he had simply been scared of her watching. She hoped it to be the latter. It was good if he was scared of her. It meant that he would never attempt anything foolish as long as she was Lady of Winterfell.