A Prince of House Targaryen

Justice

Catelyn Tully

The news came to her by a raven.

Dark wings, dark words, went the old saying, and on that unseasonably cold morning, the words could not have been darker. She was alone and sitting in the window of the Wheel Tower, watching the Tumblestone as it rolled relentlessly below her when Maester Vyman brought the message. The maester had a craggy, lined face that was not made for expressions, though she could tell by the set of it that the news was not good. As she reached for the tight-rolled piece of parchment, her hand shook.

The seal was the Targaryen dragon, pressed into black wax.

At the sight of it, Catelyn felt faint. A Targaryen Dragon could mean only one thing – defeat. And defeat spelled out still worse things, things that she had determinedly tried not to think of since they had all ridden off to war. Her father... her husband... She put a hand to her head and rubbed her eyes as her vision swam in front of her. Her whole body seemed to sway. The maester reached for her and put one hand on her elbow. "My lady?" he asked with concern.

"Your daughter will be a Queen; our family will be in The Iron Throne."

Cat remembers her father's words; he promised her Brandon Stark, only to be married to Eddard Stark, the man wasn't bad, but she had wanted her betrothal, but in the end, Tully Blood will sit on the Throne.

She could manage little more than a nod. Her thumb slipped under the seal and broke it, and she unrolled the parchment. The writing that filled the page was lightly pressed and slanting to the left, and Catelyn read the words with a growing hollowness in the pit of her belly. Robert Baratheon had been slain at the Trident by Rhaegar Targaryen, and her husband, Eddard of House Stark, had been captured along with her father and Lord Arryn of the Vale, and all three were being taken to King's Landing for sentencing. The signature at the bottom read Aerys Targaryen, King of Westeros.

When she finished reading, the letter fell from her hands and fluttered forlornly to the floor. Her eyes found Maester Vyman's. "Dear gods," she murmured.

"What is it?"

At first, she could not form the words, and they wallowed their way around her brain with terrifying incoherency. She felt as if she had drunk some potion that had dulled her senses or turned her into some kind of lackwit. "It is over," she finally managed in a voice little louder than a whisper.

The tremendous noise made by the water wheel beneath them suddenly sounded absurdly loud.

The maester frowned. "Over?"

"The rebellion," she said. "The war... Robert Baratheon is dead."

Numb shock descended, and Catelyn looked up at Vyman with the slowly dawning realization that this letter spoke the end of their lives as they had been. Everything was about to change.

"Robert Baratheon is dead, and my father, my husband, and Lord Arryn have been captured and are being taken in King's Landing."

"My lady..." said Vyman with sympathy darkening in his eyes. He bent to pick up the fallen letter. "May I?"

Catelyn nodded. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep. The babe in her belly shuddered, as if it too had somehow heard the news, and instinctively, she placed a hand over the movement to soothe it. She listened to the maester clear his throat and then speak. "This is grievous news." He handed her the letter again, and Catelyn took it back. For an obscene moment, she wanted to scream aloud and rip the thing into shreds, as if that could make the news it had told be reversed. "You must think on what to do."

At that moment, there were no words, let alone ideas, in Catelyn's head, so she simply stared up at Vyman emptily. This was not the sort of thing her septa had trained her for. The maester continued, "I fear the King will want their heads. Look how he dealt with Brandon Stark and Lord Rickard. He will not stand for traitors in the realm."