A Vow Without Honor

The Wedding

Catelyn

She loved Edmure. With every bone in her body, and almost as fiercely as her own children, Catelyn Stark loved her little brother, but he certainly knew how to aggravate her to no end.

Perhaps it was her fault. He was barely more than a babe when their mother died in childbed. She and Lysa had practically raised him, and spoiled him certainly, as did their father. Edmure was the only one out of four sons to survive. To say he was special might have been an understatement.

So, Catelyn held her tongue when he complained. From Riverrun all the way to the Twins, she kept quiet about her brother's unending need to bemoan his current situation. Uncle Brynden didn't, but Edmure had long outgrown the fear that came from the imposing figure that was the Blackfish. He challenged him with his complaints, practically inviting their uncle to lash out at him. And Catelyn thought he may very well have risen up to it were it not for her daughter.

Myra, her first born, her only child brought back to her during this dreadful war, was doing her best to placate her uncle. Never mind that she found herself in the same predicament as him, shipped off to the Twins for an unwanted marriage – and never mind that she would likely be worse off – Myra was all too happy to listen to Edmure's complaints, offering both empathy and hope for his upcoming nuptials.

Catelyn supposed she should not have been surprised by this either.

Her daughter excelled at helping others, and was practically drawn to anyone suffering from even the slightest grievance. She had always been that way, from her very first breath, but while Robb had been the source of most of her care growing up, it seemed Edmure had taken on those duties now. Robb had grown over the time since Myra had left Winterfell. He no longer needed the help from his twin that he once did, and Catelyn suspected her daughter missed that, in her own way. If anything, Edmure was helping Myra as much as she was helping him.

But by the Mother, she wished he'd be quiet about it.

They were on the final approach to the Twins, marching alongside the river, both towering structures on either side visible. Edmure and Myra slowed their horses, walking them casually beside the caravan. Catelyn brought her mare up behind them.

"It's uglier than I imagined," Edmure commented.

"You've never been?" her daughter asked.

"If I have, I clearly drove the memory from my mind."

Catelyn rolled her eyes. Edmure had indeed been to the Twins once, but he was young and unlikely to remember anything. Even then, Lord Walder had offered a selection of daughters, ranging from ones nearly a decade older than him to promises of those who would undoubtedly be born in the future. Her father had denied every single one.

She had to wonder what he would think of them now.

"Lord Walder is your bannerman. Perhaps you should try being less hostile."

"I could be as kind as a septon, but it wouldn't matter. Walder Frey doesn't care about who he supposedly serves," Edmure countered. "He barely tolerated my father; he certainly won't stand for me."

"You're about to be his son by marriage."

"Then he'll care for me even less so."

She could see Myra shaking her head, and her shoulders bouncing lightly. She was laughing.

"Uncle Edmure, I think you're just determined to be as miserable as possible."

Catelyn smiled. "She certainly has you there."