The Flower In The White Snow. [ Under Construction ]

Chapter III. Nothing Is Fair

    ･*.ﾟ☆━CHAPTER 3━☆ﾟ.*･

               
            
“I'm a Northman. I belong here with you, not down south in the rat's nest they call a capital.” Ned said. He and his loving wife Catelyn lay in bed together under the thick furs.

Laying her hand and head on her husband's chest and shoulder, Catelyn said. “I won't let him take you.”

“The King takes what he wants. That's why he's King.”

“I'll say. "Listen, fat man, you are not taking my husband anywhere. He belongs to me now"...”

“How did he get so fat?” Ned wondered.

“He only stops eating when it's time for a dink.” They laugh together, enjoying the moment until a kick was at the door.

Ned frowned. “What is it?”

Desmond's voice came through the door. “My lord, it's Maester Luwin.”

“Send him in.” The heavy door opened and the old man stepped in.

“Pardon, my lord, my lady.” The Maester was a small grey man. His eyes were grey and quick and saw much. His hair was grey, what little he had. His robe was grey wool, trimmed with white fur, the Stark colors. Its great floppy sleeves had pockets hidden inside. Luwin was always tucking things into those sleeves and producing other things from them: books, messages, strange artifacts, toys for the children. With all, he kept hidden in these sleeves, Catelyn was surprised that Maester Luwin could lift his arms at all.

The Maester waited until the door closed behind him before speaking. “A rider in the night from your sister.” Maester draws a sealed note from his loose sleeve; passing it to Catelyn.

“Stay,” Ned told Maester Luwin before he can take his leave.

“This was sent from the Eyrie. What's she doing at the Eyrie? She hadn't been back since her wedding.” Catelyn broke the blue wax seal. Her eyes moved over words. At first, they made no sense to her than a smile flits across her lips; she remembered. “Lysa took no chances. When we were girls together, we had a private language, she and I.”

“Can you read it?”

“Yes,” Catelyn admitted. Her smile dies as she reads. Catelyn removed her furs and pads toward the hearth. She tosses the paper in the fire and watches it burn through.

Ned crossed the room, his face inches from her. “What's the news?”

“She said Jon Arryn was murdered.” She bats her eyes. “By the Lannisters. She says the King is in danger.”

Ned shock by the accusation. He tries to rationalize it away. “Lysa is sick with grief. She doesn't know what she's saying.”

“She knows,” Catelyn said. “Lysa is impulsive, yes, but she knows it meant death if her letter fell into the wrong hand. To risk so much, she must have had more than mere suspicion.” Catelyn looked to her husband. Ned turned away from Catelyn, glancing helplessly around the bedchamber.

“If this news is true, and the Lannisters conspire against the throne, who but you can protect the King?” Luwin told Ned.

“They murdered the last Hand. Now you want Ned to take the job.”

“The King rode for a month to ask for Lord Stark's help. He's the only one he trusts. You swore the King an oath, my lord.”

“He spent half his life fighting Robert's wars. He owns him nothing.” Catelyn walks to husband. “Your father and brother rode south once on a King's demand.”