Mother

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After Catelyn had finally stopped crying the night before, she had refused to talk to Dahlia for a while. The girl could tell it had something to do with the new chest they had in their tent that she knew for sure she hadn't brought with her, but Catelyn didn't want to talk, so she didn't push her. Instead, she undressed, taking off her crown and placing it just beside her bed as she laid underneath the silky sheets the Baratheons had offered her and Catelyn. She wasn't really sleeping at the time Catelyn had decided to talk, but she wasn't exactly awake either. After all, the trip to the Stormlands had been long and difficult and she was tired. But Catelyn had seemed to need to talk, and so Dahlia offered herself to listen.

"Petyr Baelish came around." She said, as Dahlia frowned. Petyr Baelish? Wasn't that... Wasn't that Littlefinger? He had the fame of being one of most mischievous people in all of the Seven Kingdoms, so what had he been doing at their tent? "He brought back Ned's remains from King's Landing."

"He what?" Dahlia gasped confused, her eyes falling on the chest for a moment as all the crying from earlier started to make more sense. "Is... Is that..."

"Yes, sweetling. That's Ned." Catelyn choked out. "Or... Whatever's left of him."

"Oh, Catelyn..." Dahlia sighed, moving to sit at the foot of her bed so she could reach for Catelyn's hand as the woman sat in her own bed. "I am so sorry."

"Thank you." Catelyn smiled, since unlike Margaery's, Dahlia's words felt sincere.

"But I... I am sorry to ask, my Lady, but I... I just..." Dahlia stammered a bit and Catelyn lifted her eyes toward her. She had been noticing improvement from the girl when it came to speaking and imposing herself around people bigger and scarier than her. She had noticed she was starting to act more and more like a Queen, especially whenever Robb was around, but now, as she talked to her, it was almost as if she was afraid again. Afraid of upsetting the Lady Mother of his husband. And, in a way, Catelyn thought it was rather endearing. "Why do you figure Lord Baelish did this? Did he... Did he ask for something?"

And in truth, yes he had. He had asked for Catelyn to trade the Kingslayer, still in her son's grasp, for the life of her daughters. And, oh, how she had wished she could. But Robb had been right. He couldn't trade Jaime Lannister for Sansa and Arya, no matter how much he wanted to. And Dahlia had seemed to agree with him. She had a gentle heart, Catelyn knew, and she cared deeply for those she loved. Her brothers and sisters, Robb, even the Tyrells... She knew Dahlia would sympathize. She would sympathize, for certain, but she would never understand. Not truly. Not until she was a mother herself.

Unless... No, Catelyn thought. They had had only one night together before Dahlia rode off to the Stormlands with her. It was unlikely for a woman to be blessed a child in the first night. So she couldn't be, could she? Not yet.

And so, with a heavy heart, Catelyn lied.

"Petyr has been in love with me since we were children." Catelyn said and, as much as that hadn't been a lie, it also wasn't the whole truth. "I suppose he was seeking forgiveness for betraying Ned so he offered me a gift."

"I see." Dahlia nodded, and just one look at her face told Catelyn what she needed to know: she believed her. "And did it work?"

"No."

And that had been it. That night, no more words were exchanged. They had slept in silence, the remains of Ned in the chest pushed off to a side, never to be spoken of again.

The following morning, Dahlia woke up to see Catelyn making a prayer wheel.

"For Robb." She said, as if she needed to tell Dahlia anything. "He had planned on another battle today, hadn't he?"

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