Would've, Could've, Should've // Ned Stark // Hayley Marshall

47. Not For Sale

"This is... disgusting." Hayley decided and Jon chuckled. She bumped her hip into him.

"Oh, look at this!" Jon exclaimed picking up a bull helmet. Hayley touched it running long fingers over the smooth surface.

"Thats not for sale." A voice called out and Jon hesitantly put it back down.

"I'm sorry my lord, I was just admiring." Jon offered.

"Not a lord, just a bastard." he corrected.

"Me too." Jon echoed. Hayley looked between them before sticking out her hand.

"I'm Hayley and this is my boy Jon." Hayley declared and Jon smiled back at her as she said my boy.

"I'm Gendry... I know you. Youre the kings mother." Gendry realized and started to bow but Hayley grabbed his arm pulling him back up.

"None of that. I'm Hayley, he's Jon and you are Gendry just three normal people." Normal Hayley had to hold back a laugh. she was anything but normal. "You make this helmet? It's gorgeous craftsman ship."

"Yes my lady-"

"What did I just say dude?" Hayley corrected.

"Hayley." Gendry remarked. "Yes Hayley, I made it myself."

When catelyn got to the capital she was brought to one of petyrs establishments. She was bathed and clothed and then after her relaxation she started yelling at petyr saying how unfair he treated. She wasn't a serving wench.

Hayley heard Catelyn screams of mistreatment, heard their conversation. Then she heard a little voice, was it possible? Her little rickon was here or were her ears deceiving her?

"A wife is allowed to yearn for her husband, and if a mother needs her daughters close, who can tell her no?" Catelyn hissed but Petyr laughed. 

"Oh, very good, my lady, but please don't expect me to believe that. I know you too well. What were the Tully words again?" Petyr pondered.  Her throat was dry.

"Family, Duty, Honor," she recited stiffly. 

"Family, Duty, Honor," he echoed. "All of which required you to remain in Winterfell, where our Hand left you. No, my lady, something has happened. This sudden trip of yours bespeaks a certain urgency. I beg of you, let me help. Old sweet friends should never hesitate to rely upon each other."

"Careful," Catelyn told him, "it's sharp."

 "Nothing holds an edge like Valyrian steel." 

"What's Valyrian steel?" Hayley pondered and Gendry chuckled. "Humor me." Hayley instructed. 

"It's one of the most rare steels, from the old Gods, I think the number of blades made with Valyrian steel in westeros can be counted on my hands." 

"Lord Stark has one, he calls it Ice." Jon added. "A family heirloom." 

"And what would the wolf hating lady mother be doing with one?" Hayley pondered. Jon stared back at her curiously. "Catelyn." She clarified. 

"I still dont understand, she wouldnt." Jon assured. Hayley hummed as she listened to Catelyn's talk with Petyr. "What do you know that I dont?" 

"A lot. I'm quite certain of that." Hayley teased.

 "Such sweet balance. You want to find the owner, is that the reason for this visit? You have no need of Ser Aron for that, my lady. You should have come to me." Petyr remarked. 

"And if I had," Catelyn countered, "what would you have told me?" 

"Can I play with it?" Rickon questioned. 

"It's not a toy." Catelyn slapped at Rickons reaching hand. Rickon cradled his hand to his chest

"I would have told you that there was only one knife like this at King's Landing." Petyr informed her, he grasped the blade between thumb and forefinger, drew it back over his shoulder, and threw it across the room with a practiced flick of his wrist. Catelyn was impressed with his skill as it pierced the door. "It's mine." Petyr remarked as he moved to get the blade. 

"Yours?" It made no sense. Petyr had not been at Winterfell. Catelyn stared back at him, he could not know, he wouldnt know a thing.

 "Until the tourney on Prince Joffrey's name day," Petyr added. "I backed Ser Jaime in the jousting, along with half the court." Petyr remarked. "When Loras Tyrell unhorsed him, many of us became a trifle poorer. Ser Jaime lost a hundred golden dragons, the queen lost an emerald pendant, and I lost my knife. Her Grace got the emerald back, but the winner kept the rest."

 "Who?" Catelyn demanded, her mouth dry with fear. 

"Who indeed..." Hayley rasped moving away from Jon and Gendry. 

"She's a strange one." Gendry mused. 

What happened in winterfell after they left? Why did Catelyn come all this way, with a blade. A special blade, a rare blade... why make the moons journey unless it was something serious? But what could it be, Hayley pondered. 

"The Imp," Petyr remarked. "Tyrion Lannister."