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Chapter Text

Hoster Tully's grumbling was a familiar sound in his office, sometimes loud enough to echo out into the hall. Anyone who knew what he was like knew it was best to let it be and run off before he caught them with an errand to assign and no concern whether they were from human resources or from the admin. Catelyn Tully, his daughter and most prominent victim, found it more amusing than concerning. If she was being honest, Catelyn suspected that if he wasn't ranting over something then he wasn't having a normal day.

When she came to his office it was easy to see it was another one of those days. She stalled by the door, deciding not to knock, as she watched him leaf between the pages of his calendar. He looked up then and nodded in acknowledgement at her presence, waving a hand to the chair in front of his desk for her to take a seat before he continued his huffing.

"Just reschedule the two to four. And, look, I don't care how upset he gets, let him know we had to move it," he finally decided. He waited for the 'will do' over the intercom and the clicking sound that meant the call was done before closing his calendar and throwing himself back into his chair.

"Was this the meeting with Goldbrook?" Catelyn asked, watching as he rearranged pens on his desk. He was always so restless in his office.

"Unfortunately," she smiled at the clear frustration in his tone, "but, sadly for him, I'd rather listen to his yammering at the very end of the day."

"So you can go home with a headache?" His lips tweaked upwards in a humorless smirk at her teasing.

"So I can cut it short when it hits five and give him my final answer of 'No'."

There was no reason to feel bad for Goldbrook when he spent more time on the heels of her father than working in his own company. Still, Catelyn looked down at the pile of paperwork in her lap to hide how her smile widened. She began to flip through some of the pages, eyeing the ones that were the reason she had come all the way over from her little corner in the operations department.

"And what can I do for you? Unless you came to just visit."

"As much as I love watching you upend the scheduling your assistant does, I need the final go so procurement can move along with getting the new ships."

"Gods, they'll prolong everything and anything," he held out his hand, making a grabbing motion until she placed the stack in front of him. "By the way, we'll need to talk about the contract in Banefort."

"Oh?" Catelyn sat up a little straighter, now puzzled. "Banefort? I thought we were holding off on new trade points until the Frey issue was resolved." And at just hearing the name Frey, her father huffed.

The Frey Issue. Walder Frey being her father's worst business partner since the inception of Tully Distribution. And the "issue" being the thing that had consumed the last year of their lives. What was years of petty bickering over perceived unfair partnership terms had turned into one massive breach of contract last year when the Freys halted one of their freight ships with the excuse that there were unpaid dues from the Tully's side.

"Here is hoping that it will all come to an end soon enough. I finally got my lawyers."

"Oh, really? That's good to hear."

Her father was not a fickle man. He did not hem and haw in uncertainty until the very last minute, but for a full year of this legal battle, he had not able to find a single firm that he felt could get him the win against the Freys. There were only two that her father thought good enough to handle a case like theirs; but Mooton could be bought while Brax had a Frey daughter-in-law. There had been a few others who had reached out over the year to offer their services, but her father didn't think them up to par.

When he offered no further information, Catelyn leaned forward, watching as he scribbled his signature on the paperwork. "So, who is it? And when are they coming?"

He looked up at her then, pausing for a long moment before clearing his throat. "It's a Vale firm. Arryn & Royce. And they'll be coming the day after tomorrow for the initial consultation."

A firm from the Vale? And though she knew better than to question him right away, he caught the way her eyebrows raised in surprise. He was silent for a moment, acting almost hesitant to explain anything more, until he let out a breath and leaned back into his chair.

"One of the partners," she nodded along as he continued, "is an old friend and I thought it would be good to bring someone in from outside the Riverlands. Their litigation team is said to be one of the best in Westeros."

It made sense in a way. Business in the Riverlands was a mess of inner politics, a nonsensical knot that made even the most level-headed person go insane. There were decades upon decades of family businesses going in and out of favor with one another. Anyone from the Riverlands, or even half familiar with companies owned here would have their bias. Bringing someone from the outside meant fresh eyes and an objective mind.

"Is it both partners?" She couldn't help herself now. Curious Cat, her father used to say. It took only the tiniest nugget of information to make her interested and then all she wanted was to get her hands on every detail.

"Are you going to do your own investigation? Make sure they're up to your standards?" And like he knew he was telling a bad joke, he rapped his knuckles on the arm of his chair distractedly and then answered, "No, only Jon Arryn."

As good as she was at remembering people, she couldn't quite place the name. He did sound familiar and half-details started to come to mind— older than her father and not prone to leaving the Vale— but there was something else though, something outside of just being an old friend of the family. She frowned, confused over what exactly she couldn't remember. Her father remained silent, directing his attention back to the paperwork,

He was acting strange, almost secretive, but all she could do was let it go, not wanting to spend more time struggling to remember the man. She'd meet him at some point anyway. "Well, I'm sure everything will work out."

"It better. With the amount I'm paying them," and Hoster Tully was back to his grumbling. 

--

She would find out why her father was acting so strange only two days later when coming back to the office from lunch. Her and Edmure spent one lunch break a week together; a mandatory sibling meeting that Edmure invented after he started interning and Lysa left for King's Landing.

She led the both of them through the office while Edmure tried to convince her to change their routine.

"Next week we should go to that Pentoshi spot—"

"The one with that river bass dish?"

"Yeah—"

"Edmure… Why exactly would we drive almost forty minutes to Whitecrown for lunch? I doubt they'd let us order ahead, let alone for delivery."

"You know, you never want to do anything new."

Catelyn rolled her eyes as her brother argued, mostly with himself, about how they go to the same salad place every week. She didn't have it in her to remind him that the reason they go to same restaurant was because their father couldn't go fifteen minutes without needing them for something and it was a miracle that he didn't text them once today. He knew this, she knew he knew this, but he liked to bother her about it every week like clockwork.

"How about we go out for dinner tonight?" she offered.

"He'll just end up wanting to go to Darry's," he scoffed and then like he couldn't help himself, nodded.

They walked down the halls of the building, greeting some of their co-workers who were either coming back from or going to lunch. Soon they'd split off to go to their respective departments: Catelyn to operations and Edmure to human resources where he was doing his current rotation. If it had been up to him, Edmure would have done his entire internship in administration, but their father had larger plans and now he changed between departments every quarter.

"Where's he at anyways?" Edmure asked.

"Most likely still with those Vale lawyers," Catelyn answered. They started coming up to the side of the office with the conference rooms. She felt her own building curiosity. Even if they weren't invited into the initial meeting and she was sure they'd be introduced sooner than later, getting a good look at them was nice. "Here we can check—"

When they crossed the corner into the hallway that hosted their meeting rooms, Catelyn caught sight of her father immediately. He stood with two other men that had to be the lawyers and while Catelyn was pleased that she did in fact recognize Jon Arryn, it was the other that made her heart begin to thud fast and hard. She halted to a stop, only jostling a little when Edmure ran into her from behind.

He didn't look any different from the last time she saw him. Taller than her (but shorter than Brandon), lean (while Brandon was always stockier), and solemn (Brandon's smile was a permanent fixture on his face). Eddard Stark stood next to Jon Arryn and her father in a grey suit and his long hair tied back into a bun, looking out of place as he always did. While their dad and Jon spoke amicably, laughing and patting each other on the shoulder, Eddard stood to the side silently.

He looked so calm, so still and distant to what was happening around him. So normal.

"What's the hold up?" Edmure nudged her in the side, and when she didn't answer, followed her gaze to look at the men ahead of them. He wasn't as quick to recognize Eddard, taking a few seconds before Catelyn felt him stiffen. "Oh… Cat—"

"It's fine," she said hurriedly, deciding that it was best to leave the area completely. She needed to get out, she needed to avoid them seeing them and having to greet her. "Let's just go back." She didn't wait for an answer from her brother, instead walking away and letting him follow.

"I'm sure dad has a reason…" In his attempt to comfort her, Edmure began to speak to any possible explanation as to why their father didn't let them know that Eddard Stark would be in the Riverlands, at their company, but Catelyn didn't listen to a word of it. She nodded along and thanked him, but didn't have it in her to say anything else.

She went back to her work like she would have done any other day. Catelyn finished up a few tasks in her inbox, emailed a few distributors, went to the mandatory mid-week team meeting, but she felt useless in her endeavor to remain normal. Time moved too fast and too slow and she kept looking at the clock to see the time. She forced herself to not run back the image of him in the hallway in her mind. She couldn't be sure that he saw her, but she had to hope so. Catelyn needed all the time she could get to think over everything.

The drive back home felt longer than usual, her driving slower than usual. She forced forced herself to stay under the speed limit and let everyone pass her. On any other day she would have let road rage take over and honk back at the cars that sped off, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

She was grateful that her father and brother had still gone out for dinner. Edmure had said nothing when she told him she wouldn't go with them and she had given him a hug when he played it off as needing father-son time. If she had to guess, Edmure was going to mention seeing Jon and Eddard anyways, since he was unable to ever keep anything to himself, and their father was going to need the time to figure out how to explain to her why exactly why he kept Eddard Stark a secret.

There was a part of Catelyn that always knew she was never going to avoid this— running into a Stark— but she had hoped so. It was more embarrassing that she wasn't prepared for it, to see him standing in the middle of her work place and in conversation with her father of all people. She felt a flash of frustration with herself that she didn't remember that Eddard worked for Jon Arryn. It was a detail she felt like she should have known, but, then again, she barely knew him.

When she finally reached home, she went straight to her room and then her closet, making no effort to change out of her clothes. Past the cocktail dresses and pairs of jeans she had never worn was a plastic container in the corner of the closet. She pulled it out, setting it in the middle of her room where she had the most space, and stared at it.

She hadn't touched it in over a year. Since the one year anniversary when she decided that seeing anything Brandon related was too much. She had pushed everything she owned of his into that one box and stuffed it into her closet as a time capsule. Something to revisit if she ever felt the need to reminiscence over all the things she owned, but mostly to make sure that nothing was out in the open to be an every day reminder.

Catelyn took a deep breath, as if to prepare herself for the items she knew were inside, and opened the box.

A Harrenhal University sweater. A twine bracelet she had made for him. Pictures. So many pictures.

She picked up the one she had taken of Brandon during a trip to Seagard. Tall and handsome Brandon. He was smiling one of his big toothy grins, his eyes crinkled shut, and showing off the small fish he had caught after it took an hour too long for him to pick up how to reel in properly.

There were other pictures; ones of them posing together, some of just him, and only a handful of them with others. There was one of him with Edmure and that one made her smile.

Catelyn felt that familiar sinking of her stomach coming on as she looked through the items; a pit of dread that sat deep in her body that she didn't want to give into. It made her think of the mourning she did for him, how awful it was. Days of bleary silence and pitiful glances from her father, uncle, and brother. Even Lysa had been more subdued in her commentary. There was also the condolences from her college friends and emails from people Brandon knew. Even long after the funeral, when it seemed like she would be left alone, she would run into the stray stranger who vaguely knew him and just had to tell her how sorry they were. It seemed like it never ended— the endless pithy concern.

All it did was add to her anger.

It had been the reason why she decided to pack everything up. Especially after the Frey issue had happened and her father was struggling to keep afloat in the mess that followed. By putting everything she had to remember him by away in a compact box, she created a hard line that divided the before and after. She could look into the container if she really wanted to, but not have a constant reminder of the chaos that were the weeks before he died.

At the bottom was a small grey velvet box. Catelyn eyed it, unsure if she wanted to open it and think about why it was hidden under everything else. She decided against it finally, knowing it wouldn't do her well, and went back to the Seagard photo.

Did Eddard keep any pictures of Brandon? Of his father? Did him and his siblings put away their things into boxes and hide them away somewhere?

Catelyn rubbed the edges of the Seagard photo and then put it to the side. She started to pack everything else up, neatly putting away the sweater and the books while being careful not to touch the velvet box. She pushed the container back into its corner in the closet before taking the photo and propping it against the lamp stand on her dresser. She sat on her bed and admired it for a few minutes, spending almost all that time confused over why she kept it out.

Brandon Stark was incredibly easy to like.

Happy go-lucky enough it made you forget about your own worries. He was a man that was never afraid of anything. If he thought there could be enjoyment gained from something, he would do it without question asked. He threw himself into every situation with his whole being; with all his attention, and energy, and focus. He didn't worm his way into your life, he barreled in.

A natural born people magnet.

And he was also incredibly loving. His unwavering love for his family was something she had come to find out early on in their relationship. Brandon never realized it, but he talked about them constantly; always relating every moment of his day to something one of his siblings did or which lecture in his father's rotation would be brought out at any ridiculous thing he'd done. If she ever pointed how much he talked of them, he would just smile abashedly and try to move on.

"My little brother, Ned," Brandon had grinned when he pulled out the picture from his wallet during one of his visits to her college. It was newer than the two he had stuffed inside the bill compartment (one of his parents and one of him with his youngest siblings). "I don't get to see him often but he came to visit from the Vale for spring break and I had to practically force him to go out with me that night. Almost ran away when he saw we were getting our picture taken… He's shy, y'know?" he had said, as if that explained anything about the somber looking man in the picture. It had been taken at night and was a little blurry, but still lovely she thought. The two of them were standing in front of a car; with Brandon's arm around his brother's shoulder, holding him tightly to his side. They looked so alike: from their grey eyes to their long brown hair. Brandon was taller though, more handsome in a way she couldn't quite explain (it was his ruggedness, she had settled on). In the picture, Brandon smiled while his brother could only give the camera a soft tilt of his lips.

"Gods, he looks so much like my mom... I always forget that," Brandon murmured and Catelyn had watched as he traced a finger over the both of them.

She remembered how warm she felt in that moment, how easy it was to see Brandon's love for his brother in a way that reminded her of her own love for Lysa and Edmure, and she couldn't help herself then and had pulled him in for a kiss.

Her father's office was a safe haven for as long as Catelyn could remember. At first, when she was still a child, she would sit in one of the corners with her books and read while he did paperwork or yell at anyone and everyone over the phone. When Lysa officially became her playmate they would hide under his desk and giggle over their childish secrets and games. The years went on and the coloring books were swapped for textbooks and she didn't hide under his desk anymore. The sofa her father refused to throw away became her sofa and everyone knew it. Catelyn would study there, read in there, and listen to her father as he offhandedly gave advise through his complaining. It was her favorite room in the house.

"There you are. Thought you had gone off to bed."

Catelyn couldn't help but smile at the sound of her father's voice and opened her eyes to see him standing to her side, looking down at her. She had been curled up on her sofa, warm and half asleep from how exhausted she felt. The frantic energy that built up over the day had vanished as soon as she had finished looking through her Brandon box. She was spent and tired, but she had forced herself into the office because she wouldn't let the issue settle for another day.

"Was reading a little," she nodded to the book on the coffee table she was only able to get a few pages into before nodding off. He leaned over to look at the title.

"The Chronicles of Maidenpool?" he scoffed, "I don't think I've ever even finished this one. Maester Norren's works were always brain dulling."

"It was just something to pass the time," she said softly.

Her father moved to his desk almost leisurely. He was at home in his office, at ease even though he knew why she had waited up for him. "Well, let's not avoid it any longer," he said, sitting down with a big huff. He waved a hand at Catelyn, beckoning her to start. "Ask away."

There were too many questions swirling around in her head but she settled on her first one: "Did you know?"

He paused for a long moment and then shook his head. "No. I did… have a feeling he would bring him, but I didn't know for sure until they came to the office."

Her next question could have easily been why he picked Jon Arryn when he knew Eddard Stark worked with him, but she was able to answer that herself. Jon Arryn must be good at what he did for her father to disregard how uncomfortable the situation was. At the center of everything was the legal issue her father wanted nothing more than to resolve; better yet, to win, and if Jon Arryn was the one to do it then he would have done anything to get his help. Catelyn didn't have to guess that her father would have expected her to get over it even if he did know Eddard would be on the team.

Instead she settled on something else:

"Did you think I was going to spiral? Just because I saw his brother?"

His eyes narrowed and Catelyn shifted to sit up straight, keeping her chin up. It was a petty question, she would admit. Hoster Tully was proud. It was never a simple back and forth with him. There was no baiting him, no pushing him to hear an answer she would want, but she felt the need to give it a try.

"I was hoping it wouldn't matter," he explained, and as if he was already bored by the conversation, began to rap his knuckles against the top of his desk, playing out a soft and basic rhythm. "Cat, you've been doing so well this last year. The way you threw yourself into work and how you've taught Edmure so much. If I'm being honest, there was a part of me that had hoped you had moved on."

A pang of guilt bloomed in her chest and there was the itch to argue back that no, she hadn't moved on, she was just good at hiding it. She almost wanted to tell him that of course Brandon was still on her mind, but work was always there. It didn't disappear because your fiancé died and your future broke in half. She had done her best to be of help to him, but that meant leaving Brandon in the past even if she didn't want that.

But then she would be lying.

She threw herself into work and taking care of Edmure as her father got more busy dealing with the Freys along with Lysa leaving the Riverlands to go to Kings Landing. There had been no one else to do so with Uncle Brynden going to the Twins City for most of the year to see what could be done about the ship. It was just her. This, they both knew. He thought she did what was best for the family and that was to move on.

What she didn't want to admit was just how easy it was to put Brandon in that box upstairs.

Her father took her silence as hurt and he sighed.

"Oh, little cat, I know it's not easy. Trust me, I know it takes longer than two years," then he softened, his shoulders slumping and his cheeks reddening as he smiled, and she knew her sweet dad had came back. This was the man who knew her best and all her moods and who would never want anything to hurt her even if he misunderstood her feelings. And here she was, asking him to defend himself from the choices he thought were best for their family. "But, believe me, you had been doing so well. And I didn't want that boy to derail any of that, to bring up any old memories, if there was a chance he wasn't even going to come."

It was like all the frustration and confusion had dissipated in that moment and Catelyn knew it was best to put it behind her.

"There's no need to worry," Catelyn rose from the sofa and made her way over. She hugged him from the side, burying her face into his shoulder. He was always so steady, always there to hold her up. His hand came up to squeeze her arm and she let out a breath. "Thank you for looking out for me, but there was no need to be secretive."

"If you want to blame someone, blame Jon Arryn. Apparently he doesn't go anywhere without his little apprentice," he mumbled and she laughed.

Later, in bed and unable to sleep, Catelyn thought over all of her decisions over the last two years. She should have felt at ease with the assumption her father made— that she was on a good path and had been learning to live her life and move on. Brandon's death was always going to be there, it would sit with her because he was her first love and was supposed to be her future, but that didn't mean she should let herself get swept away in that current of despair.

In a way, he was right. Maybe it was enough time to leave it all behind. To stop the little charade she was playing at.

But seeing Eddard did shake her up. That she could admit to herself, if not to anyone else. At least in the dark in her room no one could see the way she gritted her teeth and how her eyebrows furrowed thinking about when she saw him today. She kept running back the image of him in the hallway. He had looked so… normal. Just like he did at the funeral, just like he did a year ago. Would he have reacted in any way if he had seen her in the hallway? Would he had made any mention that she hadn't spoken to a single member of his family in the last year?

She shuddered under her covers, surprised by the wave of cold that chilled her skin, and brought her knees in close to her body.

Eddard Stark was going to be around for an indefinite amount of time and even if she didn't want to run into him, they were bound to come around one another. She needed to be more composed, more ready for whatever that was going to entail. As she felt herself fall asleep she couldn't help but make a promise she'd keep it all under control.

Chapter Text

"So, let me get this straight… Your dead fiance's brother is around because dad hired his firm to handle the problem with the Freys? Knowing full well that he works in that specific firm, and most likely would have been brought on to the case?"

Catelyn sighed at how crudely Lysa was putting it, and for how silly it sounded. "Sounds about right."

"…Weird."

"Yeah, well, dad thought it was better to bring in someone from outside the Riverlands." Catelyn frowned at the mess she was making while tossing the fries she had been tasked to make. It was her turn to help with dinner and she hated it beyond reason. She was a slow and messy cook, not as bad as Edmure but the kitchen was always a disaster afterwards, and no matter how much she seasoned anything, her father and uncle made it their mission to complain how everything needed more salt. "I mean I get it—"

"Of course you do." Catelyn knew her sister was rolling her eyes.

"Lysa," she began, her tone teetering on scolding. She adjusted the phone receiver between her shoulder and ear before looking into the cupboard for plates. "He made the best decision that was available. Some non-Riverman lawyer could be why we win. Hey, you should look into Arryn & Royce actually, there's some interesting cases they've won in the past. I think they can be the ones to do it—"

"Ugh, there's really no point in trying to lecture me. Not like I can tell dad to switch lawyers… or that I even would."

"Catelyn! They're done grilling." She jumped as Edmure barreled into the kitchen, frowning at him when he stole a fry from the bowl and then grabbed a handful more, looking ridiculous as he huffed in and out because his tongue burned. "Delicious," he mumbled through the mouthful.

"Is that Edmure? Tell him hi for me."

"Yeah, it is... Edmure, Lysa says hi— Can you at least take them to the table?" She batted his hands away from taking anymore. "And stop eating, there's not going to be enough for Uncle Brynden."

"Hi Lysa! Love you Lysa!" he shouted, laughing when Catelyn shoved him away, and left the kitchen with two plates in hand.

"Breathe, sis," Lysa giggled and Catelyn could only sigh.

"He got into college and you'd swear he became an annoying ten year old again." She busied herself by wiping down some of the counter and moving a few dirty dishes into the sink. "I gotta go, but, hey, dad wants to know if you're coming to visit for Smith's Day."

There was a pause from Lysa's end and though her sister didn't speak, Catelyn could hear something rustling in the background. "Did he really tell you to ask me or are you doing that thing where you think it's best to just convince me behind his back?"

"No, he does wonder if you're going to come back for a visit. He's mentioned it to me a few times already. And, I don't know, I just think it would be nice for you to come for Smith's Day, especially since, in case you've forgotten, you didn't come home this summer."

"You know I took a summer course… and it's the last year of undergrad. I've got a ton on my plate."

And we don't? Catelyn almost said, but Lysa was doing that thing where she feigned disinterest to get others off her back. It was her own way of needling, of pushing buttons until she got a reaction. If she got snippy, Lysa would only retaliate back with something snide and it would turn into a whole argument about who triggered who. Catelyn didn't need that, she only wished her sister could hear her out.

"Look, all I'm saying is that Smith's Day falls on a weekend, you can come for a three day thing and then at least you've made your visit and you can finish the semester without thinking about it again." And then go MIA till the end of the school year, she wanted to add.

"Right, maybe. We'll see," Catelyn could hear something rustling in the background again and then something like a murmur. Her eyebrows drew in close in confusion, she didn't know that Lysa has someone with her when she called. When she opened her mouth to ask, her sister then said, "I have to go. I'll think about it and let you know. Tell Uncle Brynden I said hi."

"Lysa—," the dial tone blared loudly in her ear, annoying her enough that she slammed the phone down onto the counter. She had half a mind to call again and tell her sister off for how childish she was being. Did Lysa really think she enjoyed having to be the middle man? That hiding away in King's Landing was the right course of action? Like she thought she would never return to the Riverlands and face her family and their questions over the purposeful distance she had put?

"Hey, Cat, you coming?" Edmure had come back into the kitchen, "they're complaining."

"Yeah," Catelyn turned to her brother, nodding and then following him out the kitchen with the rest of the plates.

In the dining room Catelyn found her father and uncle deep in discussion over Uncle Brynden's most recent visit to the Twins. Back when the Incident happened, her father had wanted to be the one to travel, thinking it more useful for him to be in person when any discussions or meetings happened. It had taken their entire family to convince him he didn't need the stress and Brynden was prepared enough to act as representative. Though it didn't stop him spontaneously deciding he would accompany his brother during a few of his trips.

Now with the lawyers decided on and beginning their work, their uncle had been called back home. Catelyn wished her father and uncle would wait until the next day to debrief, in the office preferably, but worried more that Uncle Brynden was tired from his late flight in. She shook her head as the two of them talked; with their voices naturally loud, they sounded like they were arguing.

"Well, when news did reach out that you got Arryn representing," Uncle Brynden said, "it caused enough noise that Walder sent his idiot sons to see if we would be interested in mediation."

"Too late for that. They're scared now, aren't they?" her father chuckled, "which ones did he send?"

"Jared—"

"Arrogant prick."

"—and Symond."

"Annoying prick. What did you tell them?"

"That I'd rather jump into the Green Fork than put anyone through that."

Catelyn sighed as the two of them laughed uproariously over the unfunny joke, only smiling when she made eye contact with Edmure, who rolled his eyes at the two.

She cleared her throat while she began to make her plate. "Would you two mind refraining from mentioning the Freys while we're having dinner?"

Brynden's laughter died down first, and settling back into his chair he gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry Cat. You're right. We shouldn't try to spoil our appetites. Now tell me, how's it been over on this side of the river?"

Catelyn stayed quiet as her father and Edmure began to share some updates over the past month. It ranged from the success they had in obtaining the new freight ships to the sad news that this year's company New Year's party would not be held at Darry's, as was tradition. They discussed the little things too; listening as Brynden gave a detailed account to his last trip to Seagard where he broke a personal record over how much crab he had in one sitting, while Edmure complained about his classes. It was as normal a dinner as they'd ever had.

"I had no idea," Brynden stopped cutting into his steak to look around the table, "but Ned Stark is here with Arryn? How's that been going?" Thankfully her father answered.

"He does his job. Well prepared… Orderly enough," he then scowled, "and he doesn't wear ties." He moved his hand in a sweeping motion around his neck and then before he could think more about it, he waved it dismissively, shaking his head at the nerve a young professional could have not wearing a tie.

"Hoster," Brynden let out a deep guffaw, "not everyone is as old-fashioned as you. I think we can allow him that indiscretion considering he's come with Arryn to clean up our mess."

"Not a mess we've created," her father corrected, "just one we've got caught in."

"He's been nice to me," Edmure chimed in, "he helped me figure out a jam with the second floor printer."

"There's a problem with that one again? Why won't you tell IT already?"

As her father and Edmure fell into their own conversation, Brynden turned his attention to Catelyn. She could feel his eyes on her and gave a tight smile at the raise of his eyebrows when she made eye contact. "And how has it been seeing him around?" He asked, his voice low enough not to draw her father's attention.

"Good," she answered, shifting in her seat under his sharp eye. "Not that I've seen him around much."

"Oh? I thought you'd be running into each other plenty."

"No, not really," she moved around some of the food on her plate, and then like she couldn't help herself, said, "not at all actually."

"You haven't spoken to him yet?" The surprise was clear in her uncle's tone.

"Jon and him mostly stay with dad and in the meeting rooms. It's not like I had a chance to come across them," Catelyn shrugged, but she could hear how terrible of an excuse that was. She almost wanted to kick herself over practically admitting that she'd been avoiding him.

"Right," her uncle nodded and turned to the others to be pulled into a discussion about the usefulness of their IT department, but there was something in his manner that told Catelyn their conversation wasn't done.

It would continue after dinner, with Edmure on dish duty and her father tied up in a work call, Brynden had called her out to the front porch where they were greeted with the early autumn air. It was still warm enough in the Riverlands that the summer bugs were around; the sound of cicadas a welcome filler to the stiff silence Catelyn had fallen into since dinner.

"So… how've you really been?" Her uncle grunted as he lowered himself onto the porch steps, plopping down at the top and patting the spot next to him. Catelyn followed and wrapped her cardigan tighter around her body, she didn't need it with how warm it was, but she wasn't a fan of the late night mosquitoes.

She didn't know where to start or how to explain the mess of feelings that had taken up all her head space for the past few days.

"Off-kilter," she settled on and he chuckled. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her legs and looked out over the rivers. Their family home was in the oldest part of town, situated at the junction of the Tumblestone and the Red Fork. Catelyn loved it with her whole heart; no matter how irritating the neighborhood's fishers were around trout season or how they were warned every year that the rivers would finally flood the area clean. "It felt strange seeing him out of nowhere."

"I bet."

It was her uncle's attempt at giving her space to talk, and maybe that was why it felt easier to talk to him at times more than her father. Uncle Brynden had more patience to hear you out, even if he ended up telling you how dead wrong you are.

"I swear I'm not avoiding him." A lie, a badly told one too, and one she couldn't understand why she was sticking to. "Work is hectic and it feels like the entire business is in an uproar about the ball finally rolling on this Frey problem. I…haven't even seen him passing in the hallway. Not even Jon."

"Well, little cat, can't say it's not hard. We've been busy with all that's been happening. I know for myself even, it feels like my time is eaten away with all this going back and forth.

"But," and he took a pause, let out a breath, trying to find his words and how best to say them, "as far away as you feel from what happened… I believe we owe it to the other person to be as fair as we can, even if it just comes as acknowledging one another."

You both lost Brandon, is what she knew he wanted to add. Her uncle, for all his bluntness, was as soft as springtime mud. She appreciated his want for her to be in a good place with Brandon's family, but she almost wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary. That what kept her away from them, what forced her to move on, wasn't sadness or grief, and she knew he wouldn't appreciate that.

"Didn't Hoster bring you by at some point?"

She shook her head, unwilling to admit that her father probably preferred that she was keeping her distance, but Uncle Brynden probably already knew that.

"When was the last time you saw him? It was the funeral, wasn't it?"

"Uh, yeah," she nodded, sitting up straight. Another lie, but one that came so naturally. One that was easily explained by the fact that she was never close to any of Brandon's family. There had been no reason to keep up with them after the funeral.

"Maybe it's a good time to reconnect." At that, Brynden rose from his seat, and turned to head back. She smiled up at him, making no plan to move from her spot. She just wanted space to be alone. He kissed her on the crown of her head and patted it afterwards before he stepped inside.

Catelyn stayed out longer than she should have. Even with her cardigan, mosquitoes made a feast of her arms, and her hair began to frizz around her head, getting damper with the midnight humidity and annoying her enough she felt the need to wipe her hairline every few minutes in an attempt to press down the frizz. But it was peaceful, she had to admit, something she needed.

As much as she didn't want to, her uncle's question had her thinking of the funeral. How awkward it had been, how much she hated every moment, how her thoughts had been consumed more with Brandon's living family than with him.

It was a horrible affair. Miserable and never ending though it had been a short service.

The days following the news of Brandon and his father's death had been unreal. Catelyn had felt stuck and frozen. She spent all her time in her room, thinking about her last conversation with Brandon over and over until she went half-crazed. Her family tried to give her space in their own busybody ways; one moment asking her if she needed anything to then leaving her alone for about an hour before checking in again, and hiding the newspapers with any mention of Brandon or turning off the TV when a segment about the accident was being shown.

When she told them to let it be, that it was one of the most high-profile car crashes in recent years and the news would run the story into the ground until the moment Brandon and his father were buried, they asked her when the funeral was and she had to admit she didn't know anything.

It had taken her too long to getting around to trying to contact Eddard. To her surprise, when she opened her email inbox in the attempt of getting his contact information from one of Brandon's friends, she found Eddard had already sent her an email. One with an apology for not reaching out sooner, with the details of the funeral service, and an invitation to stand vigil with him and his siblings as per their customs. She had read it only once, composing a reply that she understood things were hectic for his family, that she and her family would be there, and that hopefully he could understand that she would not like to be part of the vigil. She had stared at her screen for what felt like an hour once she hit reply before turning off the computer and going to take her first shower in several days.

Catelyn and her family arrived to the funeral, all cold and all feeling varying degrees of uncomfortable with Northern customs. While her family were doing their best to blend in, Catelyn had felt more nervous than ever before. It was her first time since the engagement announcement that she would see his family all together. Even before Brandon passed, she had only met each member less than a handful of times. His father barely left Winterfell, let alone the North, and his siblings were spread throughout Westeros for their schooling and visited him once or twice a year, at most.

The funeral was the first time she'd see more than two Starks together in one place and—

And it had been devastating. Inside the Winterfell manor she was greeted with the sight of the remaining Starks standing by their father and brother's caskets. She had forced her way through the massive crowd (and gods, there had been so many people) to get to them so she could offer her formal condolences. She would never forget how stoic Eddard had been, the living representation of the coldness of the North. Though he looked more tired and ragged than a twenty-five year old should he wore grief distantly and calmly, like he was unaffected, greeting people with his polite demeanor.

How could he just stand there? Next to the bodies of his brother and father and host a funeral?

"Don't feel like you can't stand with us," he had told her when he shook her hand (his was warm but calloused, she remembered, and that she found it a little funny a lawyer's hands were so rough). Catelyn only shook her head in response and without another word, he moved on to greet her father.

Next to him were Lyanna and Benjen, faring far worse than their brother. Lyanna only nodded when Catelyn spoke; refusing to say anything or let her hands relax from the fists they were curled into, until Benjen suddenly started to cry. It was then that she moved, turning to her little brother to pat his head and let him cry into her shoulder.

Catelyn had looked over to Eddard who had turned his attention to them, and still, that cold demeanor held on his face. But… his eyes gave him away. His grey eyes that suddenly looked cloudy and lighter. From that alone, Catelyn knew, underneath the front he had put up, he was heartbroken.

Benjen's crying had made her uncomfortable. As soon as her family finished speaking with Eddard, she rushed them away, made them stand in the back while the service started, unable to bear being anywhere near the siblings. Edmure had been curious over why she wasn't a part of the funeral, but she had only hushed him quiet. She didn't want to explain that it was her choice, that she felt strange taking a space next to the grieving family, like a fraud. Catelyn couldn't even tell how she'd react, with Lyanna and Benjen so obviously hurt next to her, with Eddard who put on a face of distant coldness. She didn't belong there, she decided, not with them and not there, next to those bodies.

And when it had been over— after Eddard's speech, the trek from the manor to their family's crypts on the estate, the candles that had been lit in memory— Catelyn and her family went to their hotel to get ready for their early morning flight home, all of them feeling the insistent urge to leave as soon as possible.

It wasn't until that night that she realized she didn't shed a single tear since hearing that Brandon died.

Even with Uncle Brynden's gentle pushing, Catelyn found there was simply no way to get into the path of Eddard Stark. There were some mornings she would sit at her desk and try to come up with a plan to naturally bump into him in the halls or when she knew he'd be in her father's office. Jon and Eddard had commandeered one of the meeting rooms as their home office, going straight there from morning to afternoon and only coming out for lunch. There had been a few times she had seen him heading somewhere and she had half a mind to follow him, to just call out his name and be done with it. She always stopped herself though, when she thought about it for more than two seconds and thought she was being too much.

Though she did feel better when she finally met Jon. It had been far easier to speak to him when Jon and her father had passed her in the hallway one day. The conversation was short and polite, and Jon had made no comment about his partner even though he must have known their connection. For that Catelyn was grateful, and it had made her feel more ready, more brave, to come across Eddard. She just didn't expect to get yell when she did run into him.

"Eddard!" she choked his name out, surprised to find him in the meeting room, and wincing when she bumped her shoulder into the door, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to barge in." Catelyn looked from side to side in the conference room and realized he was alone in the room. She couldn't tell if she should have relieved or not about that.

"Catelyn," he responded, doing a double take from the paperwork he was reviewing. Though he sounded far more calm than she did, he did seem startled, like he never would have expected to have run into her at her place of work. He stood then, awkwardly rising from his seat like he had to remind himself he should greet her.

"I, uh, only meant to come by and drop off some things for my father. I thought… he was in a different meeting. "

"No, he and Jon are in your father's office. They're discussing some logistics further, so I stayed behind to organize for tomorrow."

Catelyn nodded, not taking the chance to move from where she stood, and Eddard decided to stay standing. She couldn't tell what either of them were waiting for as an awkward silence settled between them. If it had been anyone else, she would have taken the silence as her cue to leave, would have made an excuse about a task waiting for her, but there was something about him that made her stuck to the spot.

Maybe, she thought, it was how he was acting. Cool and detached. That after the initial surprise of seeing her, he was actually unbothered by her presence. He busied himself by collecting his papers and she took the chance to look him over— in a suit similar to the same time she saw him except this one a darker grey; his hair in a bun that was beginning to lose shape, with a few loose strands that framed his long face; and… no tie. She almost snorted, but kept herself silent by pursing her lips.

There was a part of her that couldn't believe how much of a frightened worm she was acting.

"I feel like I've been hiding away," she paused, almost cringing. He paused from his task and instead of asking her what she meant, he only looked at her. She regretted even opening her mouth for how silly she sounded. "I just mean, I knew you've been around. I should have come by. So, I'm sorry."

"There's no need," he raised a hand and shook his head.

"No, I've been rude—"

"Really," Eddard set his stony grey eyes on her and she couldn't help but stop talking, "it's okay. You're busy and not obligated to come find me just to… say hi, of all things." He sighed then, his eyes shifting away for a second before he continued, "besides, I get that this is all a little awkward."

Catelyn knew what he was doing. As quiet as Eddard Stark was, he was just as unsubtle. In his own way, he was giving her an out. That if she wanted, she could ignore him or pretend that they were nothing more than strangers; not almost in-laws. It would be easy, she knew. They were never close enough to even consider themselves acquaintances and the connective thread between them, Brandon, was gone.

But there was something in Catelyn's head telling her to push forward. At least be cordial with him, that would be the right thing to do. The idea of him just allowing her to walk away felt the tiniest bit bothersome, like a challenge he unknowingly threw at her.

"Well, still, I hope I'm not making it more awkward."

"Not at all. It honestly feels that I should be sorry to be here…"

Eddard's head tilted to the side, like he was still pondering her words, before his lips pulled back in what seemed like a thin, half-grimace. Catelyn raised an eyebrow, about to question what was wrong, when she realized that he was trying to give her a smile. If this was his attempt to assure her, she couldn't believe how terrible he was at it.

"Sorry?" Catelyn almost scoffed, "I doubt you had any choice in the matter. I can't see how appealing it would have been to want to leave the Vale." She may have forgotten where he worked, but the little Catelyn did remember was that he spent most of his life in the Eyrie.

"Yes," he let out a humorless huff, "the Riverlands is definitely a different sort of place."

"And," she waved her hand in the direction of her father's office, "I'm sure my father is keeping you both busy. I think you guys don't realize just how much of a mess you've agreed to take on."

"Not a mess. Just a little complicated."

"I'm sure you'll take care of it in no time."

"You would be surprised by how long these cases can go on for."

They fell into silence. Again. Catelyn shifted her weight between her feet, trying to figure out what to say next and coming up blank.

She remembered that this was Brandon's biggest pet peeve of his brother's, his concise way of talking, like he spoke only with the express purpose of ending the conversation. It was something Brandon had complained about more than a handful of times; just how quiet Eddard could be and the amount of work he had to do to get his brother to share his thoughts. How exhausting, she thought, unable to help but feel a little annoyed over his unwillingness to talk. Catelyn had questions, plenty of them, over their plan and how they're going to beat the Freys into the ground. Though he usually kept her up to date with everything happening in the company, lately her father only shared a few details when she asked. As much as she knew he was only trying to be careful over how much information is shared, she wanted to know everything.

"Well, I hope you guy can help," she offered, wanting to just be done. She wanted nothing more than to just leave, to go back to her desk and bury her head in her work.

"I hope so too," he answered softly.

Catelyn smiled then. It was small, unsure and hesitant, but she found she appreciated what he said. "I'll see you around then."

He nodded and went back to shuffling the paperwork. Catelyn took only one more second, watched him focus on his mundane task, before making herself leave the room.

She shut the door behind her, pausing for a moment to let out a deep breath. It was done and as awkward as it was, how it felt only like a half conversation, she could now continue on with her life and not be plagued with the shadow of Eddard Stark in her office. Running into him in the future wouldn't be as bad as whatever happened inside that room. Catelyn was comforted by the idea that he would work and when him and Jon were done with their job, they'd leave Riverrun and that would be that.

Chapter Text

Unsurprisingly, life was still normal in the weeks after her run in with Eddard. More busy even. Her focus went back to work and the projects that always seemed to pop up as harvest time in the Riverlands started. There were bigger deliveries to coordinate and procurement of supplies, and as always, she even took up the tasks that didn't fall under her position with the hope that it kept her father and uncle's heads afloat above the chaos. Uncle Brynden oversaw meetings with partners and her father spent most of his time with Jon and Eddard, going over the case. Her days were full of to-do's and tasks and no matter how many she ticked off, it seemed endless.

But, in a strange way, she was comforted by the fact that the entire office was kicking it into high gear as their end of the third quarter approached. Departments held constant meetings and employees tried to finish goals as quickly as they could. It was a controlled chaos that was the yearly norm, and while much could be said about the dedication everyone decided to display, she didn't appreciate it when it became an obstacle for her own day.

Like the lines that always crowded the fax machines in the building, as if people waited to send out faxes or make photocopies at exactly the same time as her to make her waste time. For the most part, Catelyn would have gotten over it after a bit of grumbling, but the day had been particularly trying with the deadlines she had and the stack of paper she needed to fax. It was why she couldn't help but sigh when she saw the handful of people lingering around the fax near her department, making conversation and using the time as an excuse for a break. With no desire to wait or cross to the other side of the floor where the mail room had the only other fax (and a manager who had a habit of trapping someone in conversation for too long), she headed upstairs to the second floor with her pile of paperwork.

Fortunately, what she found in human resources was a printer fax devoid of anyone using it, and, unfortunately, her hope of getting it done crushed as soon as she fed the first send job through and the machine started beeping angrily at her with an accompanying dial tone that rang loudly.

"Great. Just great," she looked around, glad that the department had seemed to disappeared, off to a meeting most likely, but also upset that no one was around to help. She had forgotten that this was the fax that always gave a problem, and she had half a mind to hunt down Edmure and ask why he hadn't told IT already. She pressed a few buttons in an attempt to cancel the job, but it didn't work, and the noises only made her panic. She was just about to give up and call someone when she heard a voice from behind her.

"Here, let me." She turned on her heel to come face to face with Eddard. He looked down at her in that unimpressed way of his, like he had expected to run into her. He then jutted his chin at the machine, like she needed pointing out what he was talking about.

"Oh. Hey," Catelyn was surprised, taken aback by his sudden appearance made more awkward by the insistent noises coming from behind her. "No, it's really not necessary…" she trailed off as he ignored her, crouching down by the side and sticking his hand behind the machine.

She wondered if it felt like she was trying to brush him off. Not that she even meant to. It was just so… awkward with him. She had only met him a handful of times over the years and besides their run in last year, they never had a substantial conversation. Seeing him around the office was easy enough, but it was kept simple and short. It was a quiet hello if they passed each other in the halls, or polite small talk if they were caught in the break room together. Never anything real or serious, and she didn't mind it, she even liked it— the simplicity of their interactions, and Catelyn had no reason to think he didn't feel the same.

"Honestly, you shouldn't bother," she stepped close to look over his shoulder, "this thing is always giving us problems."

"Yeah, I know. Edmure complained about it. Told him he should tell IT."

"My dad said the exact same thing," she watched as he pressed something in the back. "But then the question is why hasn't anyone else brought it up either?"

"No one wants to take the blame maybe," he said, leaning back on his heels to peer up at the machine as he pulled on the cable from the outlet. The beeping stopped, the machine turned off, and there was silence.

"Finally," she breathed out in relief.

Eddard let out a chuckle before he plugged the cable back. A few seconds later came the melodic jingle of it turning back on. He stood then, wiping the dust off his hands and motioning for her to step forward.

"I doubt it's going to work for long, but give it a try."

"You should go first," Catelyn then pointed to the stack of paper she had left on top of the fax. "I have plenty to do."

He raised his hands flipping them over to show he had nothing with him and it was then she realized he had only been passing by and decided to help after seeing her struggle. As grateful as she was for that, it was also slightly embarrassing that he caught her in that position, and even more so as he stood by instead of going on his way. He waited, watching as she fed the same paper that had caused the machine to go berserk. When it went through successfully, she smiled, "I really didn't have the time to chase down IT, so thanks."

"You're welcome," he said, putting his hands in his pockets. "I had only passed by because I'm getting lunch, so I'm happy I could help."

Catelyn paused, almost taken aback. "Lunch?" She glanced at the clock on the wall behind the fax, noting the time and turning to him with a raised eyebrow. "You're… getting lunch at four?"

"Yes," he said flatly.

And because she couldn't help herself, she asked, "this is your first break today?"

"Well, I've done a few coffee runs," he said, like it made it any better.

"That's just— I didn't realize Jon worked that way." There was something funny about the man who seemed so kind being hard on Eddard like that.

Eddard shrugged again, stepping to the side as he watched Catelyn fax another sheet. It looked like he was taking a moment to think of what to say. "Jon is kind of… old school. Working through lunch— well, that's expected."

"I didn't realize there was this much planning."

"There's a year of details we need to catch up on."

"Right," that made sense, "still… can't be easy though."

"I'm used to it."

She didn't know how to respond. If Eddard had been her brother she would have teased that he seemed like the type of guy who would just take the short end of the stick and push through almost a full day without eating, but he wasn't, and they weren't friends, so she kept quiet. He finally spoke as a confirmation page printed out.

"I think you should be fine with the rest of it," he said, "I have to head out."

"Thanks, again, for helping with the fax," she said.

"Like I said, happy to help," he waved her off, already starting to step away, "but someone should check it out. I don't know how many more times you can turn it off and on before it finally breaks."

"Oh, I will," she nodded, already having a few choice words for her brother who should have handled it on his own.

"See you."

He left and Catelyn finished what she had went there to do in quiet until people started to trickle through, passing by and returning to their desks. The fax worked for everything she did and though she'd still have to head to IT knowing full well that no one would fix it if she didn't, she was grateful for the help Eddard gave. And their conversation hadn't been so bad.

Smith's Day was coming and it was just another thing to worry about. But it wasn't all the cleaning that had to be done or the dinner they were hosting for visiting cousins, it was the way her father acted that made it harder.

Catelyn couldn't take it anymore— the grumbling and shuffling around the house. He became more like a sulking child as the holiday approached. His refusal to lighten up and his mission to make sure everyone felt an ounce of his misery was enough to drive them mad. If he wasn't holed up in his office, he was making his rounds around the house; walking back and forth to speak to his brother in the living room and then Edmure in the den. The topic of conversation was always inconsequential, something small he latched onto to complain about. If it wasn't about their cars that blocked his in the driveway then it was the way Edmure threw out the trash or how Uncle Brynden hacked loudly in the morning.

And since she was his easiest target, always an open ear, he would try to get her to commiserate with him, though Catelyn avoided him as much as she could when they were both home.

She knew where it all stemmed from— Lysa's last visit in spring. His frustration had slowly built since she left. At first her father seemed glad that Lysa was back in King's Landing, glad to be rid of the kid he gotten into the uproar with, but weeks passed and his daughter's adamant refusal to reach out had gotten to him, no matter how much he would deny it. Months later and he was the only one in the family Lysa hadn't spoken over the phone with and his mood was made worse when it became clear she didn't plan on visiting.

"I wish he'd just admit he misses her," Edmure finally said one day. He and Catelyn were in the kitchen, watching their father drag a chair and his fishing rod to the edge of the yard where there was a small clearing that overlooked the bank of the river. He and Uncle Brynden had cleaned it up back when they were kids, claiming it as the prime fishing spot for the angle it hit in the river junction. They were used to seeing him go out evening fishing, but he looked ridiculous then; wearing an insulated vest in the still humid weather, propping his rod in the ground, and sitting down where he looked over the river withing nothing to occupy his time while he waited for a bite to come.

"Well, I've had enough," Catelyn admitted. "He's making us all nuts— Uncle Brynden especially."

"That's not very hard," Edmure rolled his eyes, not wrong at all. He cleared his throat then and Catelyn caught him giving her a cautious look, nervous over what he was going to say next. "Is Lysa really not coming?"

She shrugged. "I guess not. I mean, she said maybe last time we talked."

"Which means—"

"No."

"Now dad's pissed," Edmure sighed as he played with a loose thread on his shirt. "Do you think you can talk to her about it again?"

Catelyn's mouth set into a grim line, half annoyed at Edmure's request and about to snap at him that he should call if he thought he could get through their sister's head. And like he knew his request upset her, Edmure then bashfully said, "I can give it a try."

She huffed, rolling her eyes. For all that she was about to tell him to talk to her himself , she knew that would be pointless. Edmure could try, but he was too soft to deal with Lysa, too easy with his sympathy for her tantrums. No, Catelyn knew she was going to pick up that phone, dial her sister's number, and try to convince her.

Her attempt came only two days after her conversation with Edmure. She watched her father grumble his way through making lunch before locking himself in his office for what would be the rest of the afternoon and she decided it was better to just get it over with. In the kitchen, with her own lunch and the long cabled phone sandwiched between her shoulder and ear, she waited for Lysa to pick up, hoping she was in. Her family had been adamant about getting her an apartment in Kings Landing so she could have a phone in case she needed it. Not that it mattered when Lysa barely every called.

"Hello?"

"Hey Lysa."

"Oh. Hi Cat," she was greeted back, but Catelyn could hear a twinge of disappointment in her sister's voice and she only cleared her throat, not wanting to start off on the wrong foot if Lysa got upset over her asking if she was waiting for someone else's call.

"What are you doing right now?"

"Uh, I'm in between classes, so I just came back to take a break in the apartment. What are you doing?""

"Having lunch. Uncle Brynden made this… huge batch of tuna salad? And, well, it's all we have to eat now."

"That's lovely."

Catelyn hummed. There was a part of her that wanted to ease into the question, to set up the conversation that would lead to a more productive one, instead her impatience made her then ask, "So, I was just calling to ask… but, Smith's Day? What were you planning?"

"Ugh," Lysa groaned, "I knew it. Didn't I already tell you I wasn't coming?"

"No," Catelyn said, "you told me 'maybe', so now I'm just confirming. Besides, Shella and Maerie asked about you too, so I need to know."

"Well, it's a no… Is that enough of a confirmation for you?"

"Lysa…"

"Caaat."

Catelyn held herself back from telling her sister off for her bad attitude. She couldn't help herself from scowling though. She put down her sandwich so she could lean back in her seat, not wanting to be in the middle of chewing her food.

"Is that all—"

"Are you still hung up about what happened during the Maiden's Day?" It was a terrible way to bring up the whole event that was the cause of this feud.

"Hung up? Is that what you're going to call this? Me being hung up?"

Catelyn's face twisted, nose scrunching up and lips pursing at how tight Lysa's voice got, but she carried on. "Not coming home for most of the year. Refusing to call. The fact that even when we do talk you don't even mention it at all just to complain about how annoying dad can get. So, yeah, sounds like you're hung up."

"Even if I was 'hung up', you know I have a good reason to be." Catelyn rolled her eyes. There was one thing she was glad about with Lysa being hundreds of miles away— she wasn't able to see every expression that came across Catelyn's face.

"Because of the argument?"

"Cat, c'mon, it wasn't just the argument. He yelled at me in front of everyone at the picnic!"

"Yeah," Catelyn almost scoffed, "you were following Marq Piper around all day because you convinced yourself he was going to introduce you to his parents."

Marq Piper didn't last long, thankfully the twerp (who was barely a year older than Edmure and somehow more childish) was done with shortly after, but at the time he was all Lysa thought about. It had been too much for their father, who stressed the importance that they stuck together during holidays. Uncle Brynden hadn't been there and though the fight still would have happened, he would have at least curbed some of their father's anger.

It had been so embarrassing— watching the two argue while the entire neighborhood basically had front row seats to it. The Maiden's Day picnic held every year in their neighborhood was more packed than usual and the day went mostly well. It was just their father's mood that got worse as time went on until he stalked up to Lysa and told her off ignoring them. He must have thought he was doing it discreetly, but her family always underestimated how much of a display they could put on.

"He was my boyfriend! Of course I was going to spend time with him!" Catelyn winced and moved the phone from her ear for a brief moment. When Lysa got upset she got shrill. "He didn't have to go and say I was following like a desperate puppy! The Grells were right there, they heard everything!"

The whole neighborhood had heard, Catelyn almost corrected, knowing Lysa would only get more upset at that.

"Lysa! I'm not disagreeing that what he said wasn't nice! Of course it wasn't. But to keep a grudge this long?! It's been what? Six months since you've last visited? Seven, even!"

"Of course you're on his side."

"I'm not on his side, Lysa."

"Or maybe you just don't wanna hear him anymore so you thought you could just handle it yourself," Lysa scoffed, "Does he even want me there?"

"Of course he does—"

"So why hasn't he called himself?"

Catelyn had no answer for that. They both knew their father was as stubborn as a goat. He would never bring himself to call because that meant he knew he was in the wrong. "I don't know," she answered truthfully, "is that what you're waiting for? And what if he doesn't? Never calls. What then? You're just going to continue avoiding us? Or not come back home? How long is that going to last?"

There was a moment of silence, a much needed pause in their back and forth. Catelyn wished she could help her in the way she wanted. She wished she could go to their father and tell him he was being hard headed and mean to his daughter. And she wished that he would listen. It was easy to yell and easy to throw a tantrum, but he wasn't receptive to that. Lysa wasn't wrong, but she never understood the way he worked.

It was Lysa who broke the silence, sighing before speaking. "You guys have a million things going on there. Why is this so important? Why do I have to be there?"

"Look," Catelyn breathed out, licking her lips because they suddenly felt dry. She rubbed her palms over her thighs, peeved over how sweaty they got in the few minute since she dialed Lysa. She felt baffled by her sister's question, annoyed enough to even call it a stupid one. Why do you have to be here? To be near your family, obviously. She didn't reply to her questions though. Catelyn was tired, of trying to get her sister to see logically, and only had it in her to ask one more time— "It's because you know dad wants to always celebrate the holidays together… so are you coming or not? Saying maybe doesn't count as an answer."

"And I said no, and I mean it. I'm not. I don't want to be around him right now. I know it's hard for you to understand, but sometimes being away from family is the best."

"For me to understand? What does that even mean?"

"Look, you can tell dad that I'll visit a sept and pray to The Smith that all the stuff with the Freys works out for him. He'll just have to… accept that."

"Are you going to come for new years?" Catelyn didn't know why she asked that. It was an attempt for something. Some sort of promise that Lysa would be back and things could be semi-normal.

"I don't know if I'll get the chance to call this weekend so tell Shella and Maerie I say hi."

Uncle Brynden more or less had already accepted that Lysa wasn't going to make it, doing nothing more than frowning when Catelyn confirmed it over breakfast with him and Edmure. Her brother had only sighed before going back to inhaling his food and rushing to leave for class. Her uncle had offered to be the one to break it, but Catelyn didn't like the idea of passing that task on to him. Sometimes she worried for him, as much as he came and went, following his own tune, he always got caught up in the middle of their problems.

She waited until the evening, when her father took to his night fishing and was alone. Dragging one of the yard chairs next to his, she made no comment when he raised his eyebrows at her. Catelyn didn't stay out by the river around this time, too terrified of the mosquitoes that made a feast out of her. 

"You here to keep your old man company?" He asked as she settled back into the chair and already regretting not bringing a blanket to cover her legs. 

"Yes. That and to get my ankles devoured." Her father chuckled. 

The conversation was kept light. He asked for updates on work projects, and she talked about the mess in the garage that needed to be cleaned. Edmure's growing desire to skip a semester, and her father's resolute refusal of it, was also brought up. It was normal, felt normal, to talk things over with her dad, from work to errands to their everyday lives. It had been that way since even before her mother died. She would sit with him and listen to him talk about things to do and problems to fix. 

Then came a pause, a lull in their conversation, and just as they started to get comfortable, he spoke up. 

"So, Lysa's not coming," her father sighed. 

Catelyn glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but he kept his gaze on the water. "No, she isn't… Sorry dad."

"When did you speak with her?"

"Last night. She told me that she'll just visit a sept where she's at."

Her father sighed again. "Fine then… She's intent on holding a grudge."

Catelyn didn't vocalize it, but her silence was enough of an agreement for him. It would be the first time someone in the Tully house wasn't home for a holiday. There were plenty of instances where Uncle Brynden or her father flew in late from business trips, but for as long as she could remember, they were always together, even after Lysa decided she was going to King's Landing for college.

If it had been anyone else, if it had been Edmure or Uncle Brynden in a feud with Lysa, it would have been simple to tell them to just reach out themselves, and she knew they would do it. Her father was another story. He could accept her not showing face for the weekend, but asking him to swallow his pride a little? That wasn't going to happen.

In the effort of not upsetting him any longer, hopeful that he would end his grumbling and displays of grumpiness around the house with the acceptance of Lysa's confirmed absence, Catelyn steered the conversation away:

"Are you still going to pick up Shella and Maerie?"

He didn't make a comment at her bad attempt of moving on from the subject, but he pursed his lips. "No, Edmure's going to get them. I've had to reschedule a meeting to around that time."

"Really?"

"I've spent more time with Jon Arryn in that conference room than in my own office these last couple of weeks. I've started the game of playing catch up."

"And how's that going?"

Her father frowned, something contemplative that brought up Catelyn's curiosity. "Going well, I'd say.

She breathed out a sigh of relief. Finally something going well. "That's good to hear."

Her smiled at that, nodding as he scratched at his jaw. "They've built a case, but I've been thinking… Well, Jon's brought it up and it's an interesting idea."

"What? What is it?"

"A settlement. It could fix everything real fast."

The words her Catelyn freeze and then she sat up straighter, at attention. "Settle? … You're settling?"

"Right now it's only an option," her father clarified, "but it's one looking mighty good."

"But why?"

He contemplated her question. She could see him turning it over in his head and took note of the way his head dipped to the side like he was trying to figure out how to explain it to her. "Because, little cat, Walder's the type to buy his problems away. We made some noise, brought in some Vale lawyers, and he got scared. We squeeze just hard enough and he'll cough up anything," he said, gently, like he believed she didn't understand it the way he did.

She hated it, his explanation and how he thought it was such an easy choice.

"You weren't even willing to consider mediation, and now settling is this good option?"

"Well," he scoffed and reached over to his fishing pole to needlessly check if it was stable. "If Walder is willing to pay the amount Jon thinks we can get out of him, then I don't see why not."

"But… I thought we had a case?" Catelyn didn't know the full details. Her father and uncle were handling everything and all that she knew were the tidbits they deemed safe enough to share. She still thought they were in a good spot with the way her father talked about it, how things seemed to be in their favor.

He shrugged, seemingly nonchalant, but Catelyn could see the way his shoulders hunched forward and the way he couldn't stop tapping his foot. "Little cat, I don't think you see how good it would be for us. We'd stop wasting time and money on law fees, avoid any court time, and we'd get the money to speed up the Banefort center."

Banefort. The project that had been in the works for over a year, almost two. Establishing it meant they could finally focus on distribution to the Iron Islands and not try to do business out of Lannisport. She had thought that it was going to be put aside with the Freys becoming the priority, but her father was never one to let go of advancing their growth.

"You could win this though!" She couldn't understand why he couldn't see this, or why he seemed not to care. "The Freys are obviously lying about us not paying any fees! I-I mean—"

"Catelyn," his voice was stern then, his tone a reminder from her childhood when they caused too much of a ruckus in the house and he told them off. Catelyn stopped talking, even bit the side of her lip to remind herself to stay still. "Settling with Walder is only an option at the moment—"

"But it can't be the best one—"

"Cat! If, and I say if, it is the best option, we will take it."

And with that the conversation was over. Catelyn sat with him a little longer, refusing to retreat back into the house right away, and only left the area when he started to taking in his line.

It stayed with her. It sat in the back of her mind, always threatening to take up her attention until she forced herself to focus on what was on hand. She just couldn't understand it, even with his explanation. She felt consumed by it and annoyed that her father would entertain the idea.

It was why days later she was still thinking about it while waiting in Darry's for her order to be ready.

The steakhouse had stood the test of time with the Tully's being one of the most frequent regulars; favored by the kids for their fries and liked by the adults for the steak and their generous drinks. Catelyn remembered when it still had it's old school aesthetic— the neon front sign, picnic tablecloths, and wood paneling that made the restaurant seem smaller than it was. They renovated back when she first started college and it sported a more minimalist, but still cozy, look.

She was standing by the host station, waiting for Raymun to come back with her food when her mind traveled off to think about the conversation again. He had to understand that it would be harmful in the long run, that Walder Frey, on top of being a coward, was also opportunistic and greedy. It wouldn't be long before he tried something again. Last time was the blockage at the Twins, but what if it was worse next time?

"Here you go," Raymun said as he came up to her with the large bag.

"Thanks," Catelyn smiled, grabbing it from him and about to head out when she gave a quick look over the restaurant. It was a slow night typical for a weekday. There were a few tables with families, a few with couples on date nights, and some people by the bar. Her eyes swept over the other side of the dining room and landed on Eddard Stark sitting alone.

She paused, stopping to just look at him for far longer than she should have, beyond grateful he didn't look up to catch her staring. It was strange to see him out of the office, alone and doing something as normal as getting dinner. From where she stood she could see he wore no dress shirt, no suit jacket. Just a regular guy eating out.

"Hey, Catelyn?"

"Hmm? What?"

"Missing anything?" Raymun cocked his head. She looked down at the bag in her hand and then back to Raymun.

She made a quick decision in that moment, an unreasonable one.

"No. I, uh, know someone that's sitting for dinner… Just gonna say hello," she pointed in Eddard's direction. Raymun nodded without looking and walked away.

Catelyn almost turned back around halfway to Eddard's table, realizing how silly she was acting, but pushed through. It didn't make sense, but she needed to just ask him. Her father was being more silent than usual, and she didn't want to bother Uncle Brynden about it. Jon, for as nice as he seemed, would side with her father. And Eddard. There was no reason for him to help her, or even be open with her. But she still wanted to try.

He didn't notice her arrival, his attention on the paperwork she now saw in front of him. Even his plate was pushed to the side, forgotten and half eaten. He twirled a red pen between his fingers and when she finally spoke up, he startled a bit.

"Hello." Gods, was it always so awkward. She fidgeted a little, pushing her weight off one foot when Eddard looked up.

"Catelyn. Hi." Eddard's hair was out of it's bun, falling past his shoulders and pushed behind his ears, looking silky and tidy. He also wore glasses. Thin framed, rectangular ones that were pushed all the way up the bridge of his nose. She had never seen him in glasses before and he looked so… he looked academic, almost like a teacher; definitely more like a lawyer.

She didn't have anything better to say, and instead she nodded at his plate. "So not only do you have late lunches, you only eat half your dinner because you work?"

He looked at his food, stared at it for a moment like he had just remembered it was there. "Sounds about right," he turned back. "Did your family come by also?" He peered to see if any of them were behind her.

"No, it's only me. I stopped by to grab some food for me and Edmure," she raised the bag of take out and he nodded. She then cleared her throat and said, "I'm sorry to do this, but can I sit with you for a moment? I just—"

"Please," and like he knew she had a hard time getting her words out, he motioned to the seat across him before he started to clean the space— the paperwork he collected into a pile and turned over, the plate he moved away from the edge of the table, even his pen was put to the side. She wanted to tell him it was unnecessary, but she said nothing.

"So," she answered quickly, sitting up straighter at the look he gave her, the way his eyebrows both raised. She placed her free hands in her lap, squeezing them into loose fists for some sort of centering.

"So."

"I really don't mean to interrupt," she glanced at his plate, "not just dinner… but your work too."

"It's fine."

She supposed she owed him some civil conversation before she badgered him, though her heart thrummed with impatience. "I hope you and Jon don't have to go into the office with everyone off tomorrow… Long weekends are hard to come by."

He shook his head. "No, we're also taking some time. Jon's going back to Eyrie to celebrate Smith's Day with his family."

"Are you staying here? Or going back to the Vale too?" Catelyn imagined him in whatever little apartment they had rented, pouring over paperwork like he always seems to be doing. Alone.

"No, I go back to Winterfell."

Catelyn didn't fully understand why but she froze. She let out an, "oh."

It made sense. She knew no one from his family followed the Faith and she doubted that Jon and Ned would only take a three day weekend. She was surprised by how much they even stayed in the Riverlands, though they must have known it would come with the job. What was strange to hear was him actually saying 'Winterfell.' It wasn't easy to forget their mutual connection, the fact that she had visited his home before and met his family, but they had done a good job of creating that boundary. For some reason it felt like a crack in the wall hearing him say it.

After a moment, she said, "Lyanna and Benjen must be happy for you to visit."

"Benjen, yes. But, Lyanna's, she's away at school," he said.

She needed to move on from the topic, away from familiarity of the past, and dove right in—

"I really don't mean to interrupt, but I…" Catelyn pursed her lips, "I just had a question."

Eddard nodded. "Sure. I hope I can help."

"I bet there's plenty secrecy in the case… Things you can't tell me, and, of course, you don't have to tell me, but…" she let out a deep breath through her nose as she paused, "I just have to know, and I'm sure you have an idea— does my dad really mean to settle?"

He didn't answer right away, only looked at her with his impassable grey eyes. Catelyn hated how she found it impossible to read him. "I think that's something to discuss with him," he said carefully, slowly.

"I did. I did discuss it with him. It's why I know he's considering it."

"That's your answer then. Settling has always been a favorable option for most cases involving contract breaches."

"I want to know how likely it is that he's going to actually do it," she said firmly.

"Catelyn," he shook his head, "You know I can't say."

Yes, she knew that. He was her father's lawyer and though this whole case concerned her family and the company she worked for, Eddard really only needed to answer to one person.

"Well, what do you think?" Catelyn suddenly asked. Eddard looked at her, blinking like he couldn't believe her question. In a way, she couldn't either. "I know what I think," she explained, pressing her fists into her thighs. She felt days of frustration start to flow out of her and Eddard was her unfortunate victim. "I know that they're wrong for even considering settling. It makes no sense and my dad should know better than anyone that Walder Frey wouldn't just stop here. It's not easy to scare him off."

"I don't—"

"What I mean is that… why not put an end to it now? Why try to appease the Freys? So that two years down the line they pull another stunt like this? I thought we had an actual case, something that we could win."

They kept eye contact, Catelyn sitting up straighter and making sure she didn't look away from him. Always so severe, she though. He was the one that broke it, letting out a deep breath and rubbing a hand over his mouth. He seemed to be contemplating her question as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"Can I just ask— are you looking for a reason, or, just looking for reassurance?"

His question threw her off. "What?"

"Do you actually want to discuss why it's better or not to settle or do you want me to agree with you?"

Her eyes narrowed and her cheeks flushed as a dull heat traveled up her neck, up to her ears, at the harsh bite of his words that reminded her of Brandon, even of the rest of his family. He looked back at her, seemingly unbothered.

"Neither. I just wanted to understand," she said. Her voice was steady, thankfully, but she could hear herself sound annoyed. She knew this was ridiculous. Knew coming to Eddard, of all people, was pointless and a waste of time. "Forget it. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

She started to get up from her seat, ready to rush out of the restaurant and home where she could sit in her embarrassment, when Eddard leaned forward, holding out a hand to stop her.

"Catelyn— Wait."

"It's fine," she sniped.

"Just… sit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come off like that." His voice was a bit more soft, more open, and Catelyn sat back down. When she looked back at him, he seemed a little nervous, eyes shifting to the pile of paperwork he had and he clasped his hands together on top of the table. "You know I can't share the details."

"I know," she said quickly. "I'm not asking for that! I just…" She didn't know how to explain it.

"I think, what I mean is that there's not many details to share," he said carefully. She must have looked confused because he then said, "settling tends to be an option to those who see no other way to win, or when there's too much possibility for what could happen."

Did he need to speak so cryptically? She wanted to get up again when it hit her. Not too many details? She remembered their last conversation when Eddard had said they were still going over the events of the last year. If they hadn't done anything official and her dad was already considering settling, then that meant he thought they couldn't win the case.

But why? It seemed so cut and dry to her whenever she heard anyone talk about it.

"Thank you," she said, seriously. "And, again, I'm sorry to… bother." She rose from her seat, gingerly and slowly, feeling a little off-kilter.

"No, it's okay… I hope I was some help," he said. She wanted to tell him that in his own way, he was helpful. He definitely gave her plenty to think about.

Catelyn nodded, barely looking at him when she told him goodbye, and went home. She spent the rest of the night in a stupor; barely eating her food and having it eaten up by Edmure, going to bed early and staring into the darkness as she thought about everything that's happened in the last year, going over every detail she could remember. There definitely was plenty to think about.

The start of the end happened during one of her weekend visits.

Though they had been engaged for about six months, with Catelyn a year out of college and back home there were less opportunities for them to visit one another. Her father was an obstacle on his own; traditional enough that he didn't like the idea of his daughter visiting her fiance or said fiance making a home out of his house (though he must have known about all the visits while she was still in school, even if he refused to acknowledge). Catelyn had to take any chance that came and it was during a business trip to the Reach he and Uncle Brynden went on that she hurried to Harrenhal to spend two blissful days with Brandon.

It had been the night before she had to return to Riverrun and their plan was simple— make dinner and stay in and spend as much time as possible before she took the early morning train. She had volunteered to go to the grocery store to pick up what they needed. As much as she disliked cooking and Brandon was only good at making one dish, it was nice to do something so mundane together. It was a peak into the future when they were in his kitchen and he played his favorite Bael album and she made a mess cutting the vegetables. It filled her heart, made her chest warm, had her feeling content and happy. It was so childish, she knew, but it was like they already said their vows to one another and were well into living the rest of their lives.

She had called out his name when she entered the apartment, shaking her head at the mess that seemed a constant in his apartment, the thrown about clothes and forgotten work out equipment. She had teased him like she usually did when she first walked in and saw the state of it. Brandon had only laughed and kiss her cheek and brought her to his bedroom because it had been all of six weeks since they last each other.

After receiving no response, she stepped deeper into the apartment, heading towards the kitchen where she heard the sound of muffled talking. She found him leaning over the counter, elbows propped on top, but with his head in his hands. She had placed the bags gingerly onto the table, pausing when he turned his head to the side and locked eyes with her. He said nothing, made no move to greet her, only stared for a moment before turning to the other side where his home phone was.

"And dad knows?" He asked.

"He found out this afternoon." The staticky voice came through the speaker. The voice was deep, deeper than his brother's but not as gravely as his father's— Eddard.

"And he said nothing? Had not a-a single thought over this? Why didn't he call me?"

Catelyn knew Brandon well. Had learned early on that his temper was one to watch out for. His stuttering, his pausing, was only a sign that he was trying to hold back his anger, from reacting in that grand way of his.

"Brandon…" Eddard chided though his words warbled through the speaker, "he's still trying to figure out everything. It's not like we have all the details… And we can't exactly reach her by phone now, can we?"

"But he's going to do something? Right? Something has to be done."

"… Most likely. I know he's been calling Aunt Branda, but she doesn't know anything either."

"Do you think she could have gone to see Ashara?"

"Ashara? Now why would Lyanna do that?"

"I don't know! She's the only person in Dorne she knows!"

Catelyn had wanted to go to him, to comfort Brandon in the way she believed she could. He was stressed, upset enough that his shoulders tensed to his ears and his voice pitched louder. It wasn't hard to figure out that it had something to do with Lyanna, his little sister he was beyond protective of.

"Can we just… not make assumptions?" Eddard had sighed. "Dad's been calling people to see if anyone knows a thing, hopefully we get some news and we'll take it from there."

"Waiting on info. That's reassuring, all that work you guys are doing…" Brandon's tone had been harsh, sharp and rough, his every word coming out a pointed jab. "Thanks for being the middle man, Ned. Just— always so helpful. Next time though, maybe call with actual information, or with a plan, y'know? Something, at least."

There was a pause, a long silence from both brothers that made Catelyn fidget. Bickering she was used to, her own family spoke with their tempers always on the edge of coming out, but the Starks, for the little bit she had known them, were so different. Brandon teased and joked, and could raise his voice, but she had never heard such meanness in his voice.

Eddard spoke then. "Right… Brandon, I called because I wanted you to know. Because you should know— but dad is freaked out enough and he doesn't need you all upset and causing a scene from Harrenhal of all places."

"Yeah," Brandon's voice seemed strangled, like maybe he regretted his words, but he only stood up to stand by the phone. "Bye Ned." He hung up and without taking a moment to breathe, he dialed another number. It must have been sent straight to voice mail as he then said, "hey, dad, it's Brandon. Give me a call."

It was at that moment Catelyn stepped towards him. She pressed herself into his side and wrapped an arm around him. She said nothing, only rubbed her hand up and down his arm while he wiped a hand over his face. It was then she learned from him that Lyanna had disappeared while on a visit to her aunt's in the Stormlands. The only reason they even knew she was in Dorne was the note she left her aunt, with a promise she'd come back, but with no details of where she was going or what she was doing.

Their night became a forgotten dinner and Catelyn trailing after Brandon as he paced around the apartment, trying to calm him down from leaving and going straight to Winterfell. It had been late into the night when she finally convinced him to go to bed.