LITTLE HEART ↳ JON SNOW

twenty-five

CATALINA WAS FINALLY BACK AT WINTERFELL. She stood at the edge of the forest, her stomach in knots as she saw the flag waving above the walls. It was a black flag, draped down the side of the front wall, it's insignia being a flayed man. She recognized it from the Twins, she recognized it from Robb Starks killer. It was the Bolton flag.

She knew following the death of Winterfells heirs that someone would take it, but it pained her to know if was in the hands of wicked people, the Starks killer himself. Roose Bolton haunted Catalina's dreams...she often wondered the last words he had whispered to Robb as he killed him. She pushed the memory away quickly, it was torture in itself that relived it night after night...

She crept along the edge the forest, looking at everything she could see from a safe distance. She could feel the fear radiating through the walls. She knew everyone within them, almost everyone, and she wondered if the people she had known her entire life were still alive. Winter fell was once her safe haven, her home...now she didn't recognize it.

The wind blew and sent a tremor  down her spine, her cloak not being enough to protect her from the freeze. She considered her options, but she didn't know how much longer she could survive without food. If she flagged someone down, played to the mercy of the people she used to know...perhaps she could fly just low enough beneath their noses to survive. After all she was no one important,  all she would have to do is avoid Roose Bolton—he had attended her wedding after all.

She was shocked the guards atop the gates hadnt seen her yet as she made her approach. The only way she was making it inside is if they let her in...she couldn't not climb like Bran used to. She remembered a long time ago when she would chase the boy around, Bran always wanting her to follow him as he would climb. She never could, she never had the balance for it.

She was now almost touching the wall and it became surreal to her that this was a bad decision. Walking directly into the enemies grasp was never the best idea. However she was counting on her forgettable face, and the hope that the people she grew up with would help her. She still was surprised by the fact the guards hadn't seen her...she was noticeable among the snow that surrounded her.

When she got so close to the gate she could almost touch it she looked up, her face falling as she realized the guards had seen her, and they weren't too concerned about her presence. Instinctively she turned when she heard footsteps behind her, the creaking of the gates beginning to open being the last thing she heard before the guard behind her hit he with a club, rendering her unconscious.

:::

Catalina awoke—something she didn't think she would do—in warmth. The crackling of fire could be heard, her chest rising and falling at a quickened pace as life returned to her body. When she opened her eyes the room was dark, and she was not able to move. She wasn't too surprised by the fact that she was chained to what seemed to be the floor, her eyes adjusting to the light provided by the fire. She realized where she was in only a few moments of looking around, her lips parting as she saw how different Theons old room looked. She had been in there countless times, yet it was near unrecognizable.  The life felt like it had been sucked out of every inch of the room, and it was only darkness now.

It took her a moment before she realized there was someone in the room with her, a surprised breath leaving her lips as she saw the figure standing in the window. Their back was turned to her, and it was a woman, this being obvious to gather from the long black dress and hair. Catalina didn't know who she was in the room with, the woman gazing out of the window unfalteringly.

"Who are you?"  Catalina's voice croaked out, her head aching as the pain of being clubbed caught up to her. She winced, pressing her hand to the side of her head as the chain rattled. The woman didn't really react to her question, only sucking in a sharper breath and then letting it out.

When the woman turned it was like seeing a ghost, Catalina's face going white as she looked at her. The woman looked just like Catelyn Stark to the point that it frightened Catalina, her heartbeat raging in her chest as she wondered if she really was seeing the ghost of the Stark matriarch. However she didn't believe in ghosts, and she soon seemed to realize that this woman was Sansa Stark, the one and only, andShe flushed with relief at being in her presence.

"Sansa?" Catalina asked, her voice cracking as she said a name she hadn't said in years. Sansa seemed to drift out of her own state of unconciousness even though she was fully awake, her eyes seeming to focus on Catalina who was looking up at her like she was witnessing a miracle. "I—I cant believe you're here. They never—we—we never knew what happened to you. I can't believe this."

"It's been years." Sansa said, her voice deeper than Catalina remembered. The chained girl slightly smiled, feeling strange emotions ripple through her in seeing such a familiar face. However she seemed to remember where they were, who Winterfell belonged to...and she soon was confused by Sansa's presence here. Her face slowly scrunched into one of confusion, her eyes hardening slightly as she looked up at Sansa.

"What are you—why are you here? In Winterfell? I thought you—" Sansa cut her off with the truth, not wanting to see another friend look at her with accusing eyes. It had been a long time since Catalina and Sansa had seen each other, yet somehow they still ended up at the same place.

"I was forced to marry Ramsay Bolton." Sansa told her, the older woman's face paling again as she looked up at her. And she could see it...the life that had been drained from her. The things that the Boltons had taken from her. And she ended up having to suffer through life with them everyday, she could hardly believe it. Her blood boiled as she thought of the Boltons having a Stark in their grasp—it made her sick.

"Sansa..." Catalina led off, she couldn't seem to think of the right words for her. She didn't know how to comfort her the ways he longed to in her heart. She understood her pain, married to the people who killed her family...and yet she couldn't seem to relate it back to her the way she needed to. And then she remembered where she was, what was happening, and the rattling chain seemed to remind her that she was being held prisoner. "What do they do to prisoners here?"

"You should've never come back here...Roose Bolton recognized you the instant you showed up at the gate. I don't know  what they'll do—what he'll do. But they know you are the girl who married the Frey." Sansa was informative and unfaltering, her face straight but her tone urgent as she recounted what she needed to. It was why she had come—to tell her that they knew her, that she was indeed  caught. It was the least she could do for a friend...warn her. "I'm sorry...I have to get back. I'm not supposed to be here."

Before Catalina could even object Sansa was gone, her warning ringing through Catalina's head. Of course he instantly recognized her—she could hardly dream up the torture she would endure at the hands of the Boltons. Their cruelty was renowned, even she had heard of it. She leaned her head against her knee, letting out a long breath as she came to terms with the fact this could be her last mistake.