Queen of Wolves // Jaime Lannister [GAME OF THRONES] (ON HOLD)

2. THE FAREWELL

The rising sun shimmered in the mists of dawn as Catelyn Stark left the Sept praying her prayers hadn't been in vain. She remembered she did likewise once before but for her own sake then: the day after they had betrothed her to Brandon Stark, the heir of Winterfell.

She recalled thanking her father for making such a splendid match for her. If my mother had lived, how different my life might have been? Given she was one herself now, the notion of her daughter going south gave her goosebumps which she didn't fault the icy north. Winterfell was always warm, even when it snowed.

She entered the Great Keep to inhale the smell of fresh-baked bread but had no appetite for it. How could she eat? Ned told her Alynna took the news as a northerner might, whatever that meant, but she saw the pride on his face plain enough. Catelyn craved the same, but she ran a household leaving little time to one's own devices.

Alynna only saw to Septa Mordane and Maester Luwin to help pack her belongings and take her books this past week. Catelyn discovered this because of a seething Arya dragging a sobbing Bran to her yesterday after their older sister refused to open her door.

The same door fell wide open now, for every living person of Winterfell to overhear.

'I was on the verge of finishing it!' Alynna's voice weighed heavy with anguish. Catelyn walked into the bedchamber and shut it tight before more people heard. When she turned, it surprised her to find Sansa standing there and comforting her sister who appeared to be at her wit's end. Her hair fell in messy tangles and her clothes looked dishevelled. Catelyn was more used to seeing Alynna soothe the other but doubtless, something was wrong.

'If it was in your head once, it must still be in there,' insisted Sansa as she rubbed her sister's back. She delighted in being the only one trusted to enter her room and comfort her, it made her feel mature. Though she was clueless about how to calm her distraught sister, she never had to try.

Alynna grumbled. 'Writing doesn't work that way. You can't keep it anywhere. It passes through you and you have to catch it and get it on the page!' Unlike Sansa, who looked up and wanted nothing more than for Catelyn to fix everything, Alynna never noticed her mother's presence. 'The worst thing? I don't have a clue whether it was any good. I just wanted to have it read.' She fought back angry tears. The little book she was so fond of and meant to finish before she left.

'I don't mind if you cry, Alynna.' said Sansa in consolation. When did her sister last cry? Had she ever cried?

'Tears are an unmanly weakness.' Alynna sniffed.

'You're not a man!' Sansa replied while seeking guidance from her mother who motioned for her to leave. She agreed with a resigned huff and when she reached Catelyn, she spoke under her breath. 'You've seen that thing Alynna's always writing?'

Catelyn nodded. Her daughter started to read so early that the people of Winterfell said that Lady Stark must have swallowed books and a candle whilst she was in her womb. Yet, Catelyn might find a blind man reading before Robb. Alynna's book was the pride of her heart and even Maester Luwin regarded it as a literary sprout of great promise.