Winterfell
The chill ran outside like a spear, but the walls of Winterfell stood tall, defending against the cold. In one of the rooms were two girls practicing needlework in their own terms, one of them perfecting her design while the other was starting a direwolf, or at least she was trying. The smaller of the two finally spoke.
"This still… feels weird," Arya finally said, keeping her would-be direwolf on the table beside her.
Sansa nodded with elegance, copied from her mother's mannerisms, or what she thought those were.
"Indeed. But it serves our purpose" replied Sansa, while listening to the fading sound of the septa's steps. Now finally alone, Sansa left her embroidery on the table and took a book out of her robes, while Arya threaded her needle, preparing herself to close the fake wound made in the leather.
Arya placed the needle lightly on top of the leather, adding just enough pressure to pierce it, not enough to rip. It was tedious work, but she relished the hard work and the potential payoff. Alas, she was just a girl.
"What are you reading?" she finally asked.
Sansa looked at her, slightly annoyed but also slightly happy to share her little secret.
"You are too young to know," she replied.
An unamused Arya stood up and postured herself to run. She smirked.
"How fast until I scream and the septa catches you reading from a restricted book?" she said, to which Sansa huffed and finally relented.
"Where have you learned such a scummy behavior?" she asked with disdain and disgust.
"I learned from the best, most worst scum" Arya said while looking Sansa up and down, and then checking on the embroidery on the table.
Sansa sighed.
"I already said sorry for that time," Sansa said, embarrassed to remember such childish behavior she once had.
"Apologies are like hollowed trees, unless you back them up with actions," Arya said with all seriousness, while Sansa laughed at her sister.
"It seems I am not the only one reading restricted books," Sansa added, to which Arya, now showing a red face, chose to shut up.
Sansa continued.
"This is a book by Maester Lumen about King Jaehaerys I."
Arya looked confused.
"And?" Arya asked.
"And," Sansa smiled.
"What does the book say?" asked Arya.
"Words," replied Sansa.
The room grew silent and both sisters laughed at the absurdity.
"You sound like him," Arya said. Then she grabbed her leather and Sansa kept reading her book. For the Septa would eventually come back and time was worth mor than gold for them both and perhaps, only perhaps, this fake sisters' time could someday be a real sisters' time.
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Catelyn
Lady Catelyn Stark, née Tully, was seated in her garden. In her eyes it always paled in comparison to her mother's garden in the Riverlands, but there was such an intoxicating beauty in a garden in the middle of the storm.
She sometimes remembered the excitement that Ned had when she showed him the glass gardens, for he had been so happy to have chosen and planted the flowers himself. Except, except the flowers that had been planted were weeds. She laughed then, confused, happy, and deeply charmed at seeing such a gruff man doing the impossible for her.
"My lady," a gruff and deep voice resounded in the gardens.
"My lord." She smiled at him, and she could see how his eyes were just for her alone.
"It seems my lord has caught up on my actions," she continued, to which Ned could only sigh.
"Was it necessary?" he asked, for what she knew of him, he never liked ruthless southern politics.
"Indeed it was, my lord—" she said while she made him sit beside her. Not for long, for she now sat gracefully on top of him. "—Indeed."
She didn't need to look behind her to know how the usually stoic and stern Lord Stark now had a slight red tint on his ears. He hugged her from behind, and she relaxed.
"Wasn't there any other way, my lady? The boy had the bearings to be Robb's right hand," he said, to which she sighed.
"He came to me," she said, reminiscing about the conversation with the boy.
"He understood his position and told me… he told me the truth about his birth."
Ned's breath stopped.
"Someone would have discovered it, Ned, and sown discord. And so we had to act," Catelyn said.
"Rumours about the northern Tully bitch must be circulating among your bannermen. Sweet boy Sebastian was against the plan. 'It will be hard on you, my lady,' he said. But the south doesn't take kindly to the idea of a strong North. It never had, and it never will-" she paused a moment to refresh herself with some water of a nearby glass
"-We needed time, you see, and while the Tully witch will banish the poor servant, the servant will sever most of his ties with the only home he has known, while secretly being our hand in the south.
We needed you to believe that everything that happened was truly happening. And now the North will breathe much easier."
She explained this while Ned could only give his silence.
"My apologies. I have no excuse, my lady," he said in that dutiful northern tone he had.
"It was and is my duty, my lord. For by the time it all happens, Robb will have come of age, a new Lady Stark will be chosen, and we will both be enjoying our time guarding them and teaching the new generation. I hope the Seven hear my plea for our future," she said while squeezing his hands and enjoying his warmth.
Ned sighed.
"So the Starks will now have a master of whispers," Ned mused at the conversation he had once shared with Sebastian.
"Indeed they will, my lord. The times are changing and Sebastian's presence will keep us informed and aware of any southern change. Especially now more than ever with the wildlings' recent activities," she said.
"When did both of you…" Ned asked doubtfully.
She laughed, like the breath of spring clashing with the outside cold.
"A woman is always blessed by the Mother and the Crone, Ned. I admit that some dislike still persists, but the way he acted, the little gestures for our children, the hidden teachings, the tender care whenever I was expecting our babies. You always had good eyes for choosing your northern men. This was not an exception," she explained.
"We can keep the rest of the conversation in your solar, but for now, let me enjoy my husband's hug," she pleaded, to which he wholeheartedly agreed.
Indeed, family, duty, honor, she mused, while bathing in the scent of her dear husband.
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A/N: I started reading the books. I am on the second chapter of got. A small reversal for what happened with Cat (ch 13/14) and a jab about Sebastian's birth. After all, he did not have a mother but he had a "father" in Westeros. Him for those who caught me on his identity. (doesnt matter, I will tell who in a dialogue in the next chapter). Hope you like it, leave stones, comments, reviews, or dont. Have a good monday.