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‘Grandmother?’
Catelyn Stark turned her head to look around for the interruption to her morning prayers. In the doorway to the Sept stood her oldest grandchild, attempting to stand as tall as was possible for his nine years. Catelyn felt her heart melt at the sight and any objections she had about being interrupted were swept away.
‘Good morning, Ned,’ she smiled at him. ‘Have you come to say your prayers for the day?’
Eddard Stark shook his head. ‘Mother took me and the others before first meal,’ he said as he walked away from the doorway. He moved to sit beside Catelyn, who raised her hand to smooth down his curly brown hair. An outbreak of fever had occurred in Winterfell and Catelyn had been one of the people affected. For the past fortnight, she had been unable to leave her bed and her only visitors were the Maester and Margaery, both of whom had nursed her. She had heard from her good-daughter that the grandchildren had thankfully escaped becoming infected, although Catelyn had still forbidden their presence in her chambers until she had recovered.
‘Aren’t you supposed to be having lessons with your brother?’ Catelyn asked, raising an eyebrow. Her grandson was normally eager for his lessons with the Maester, even more so now that he was being joined by his younger brother.
Ned ducked his head. ‘I was going to,’ he said earnestly, his blue eyes fixed on the floor, ‘but then I saw you going out of the Keep and I wanted to see you. Does this mean you’re feeling better now, Grandmother?’
Catelyn’s face broke into a large smile. She drew Ned into a hug, who didn’t protest the movement. ‘I am feeling better Ned. The Maester said I was well enough to leave my room today and I wanted to give thanks to the gods.’
‘Good,’ said Ned, snuggling even closer to her chest. ‘I missed you. Father and Mother won’t let me have as many pastries as you will.’
Catelyn’s body shook as she attempted to contain her laughter. ‘Is that all I’m good for, little Ned?’ she asked, ‘giving you extra sweets when your parents aren’t looking?’
‘No,’ he replied, seriously. ‘You also give the best hugs and tell the best stories.’
‘Oh, I missed you, my sweet boy,’ she kissed his forehead. ‘I will always want to see you Ned, but you mustn’t neglect your lessons in the future. You’re a clever boy, I’d hate for it to go to waste.’
‘Yes, Grandmother,’ Ned leant back and grinned at her.
Catelyn gazed down at him. She would never admit it, but Ned was special to her. He was Robb’s heir and would one day become the King in the North. To the Stark bannermen and followers, Ned was the next generation, a figurehead.
But to her, Ned was her first grandchild. Catelyn had been the third person to hold him after he was born, and a tiny piece of her heart had gone to him when Robb had placed him in her arms. He was a symbol of the peace that she had longed for throughout Robb’s campaign, a peace that had been hard-won and worth the cost. She thanked the gods every time she saw Ned playing with his brothers and sisters, every time she glimpsed the happiness Robb had found with his wife and rejoiced in the peace that the Starks were enjoying.
The only cloud on the horizon was the loss of her husband. Her Ned, Catelyn thought, would have been proud of what their family had become.
Catelyn shook her head to clear her thoughts. ‘Will you pray with me, Ned?’ she asked.
The boy nodded and pulled away from her.
‘You will have to go apologise to the Maester for avoiding your lessons straight afterwards,’ she said firmly. ‘And tell your Mother and Father what you did.’
‘Yes, Grandmother,’ came the response. Catelyn bit her lip to avoid smiling at the pout he gave her.
Together the two lit the candles and prayed aloud. The sound of their voices filled the Sept, as the candlelight danced around them and the statues looked down on them. Sunlight flickered though the stained glass windows, casting rainbow lights on the floor. Catelyn Stark felt her heart overflow with joy at the good fortune she was currently experiencing and, gods willing, would continue to enjoy for years to come.
