Mother-Daughter Talk in the Night

As Garon drifted into a dream, a conversation was taking place in Sansa's bedroom.

Catelyn stood before the fireplace, watching Sansa, who had just returned to her room from the hall.

"Mother?"

Sansa looked at Catelyn in confusion and gently closed the bedroom door behind her.

"Old Nan said you wanted to see me. Is something the matter?"

"Could it be..."

A shy look flickered across Sansa's face. She hurried over to Catelyn and, holding her hand, gave it a playful shake.

"Mother, are you going to have me and Garon... get engaged tomorrow?"

Though she had only seen Garon twice that day, his words and manner had left Sansa with a wonderful impression.

She no longer objected to getting engaged. In fact, she was eager for the day to come.

Catelyn stared at Sansa, who looked as if she were in the throes of a romance, and felt as though thunder had struck her.

She had never imagined her daughter would fall for someone so quickly.

Catelyn's face twitched. Then she asked in a strange tone, "Sansa, you want to get engaged to Garon?"

Sansa nodded bashfully.

"Oh, Seven Hells."

"Sansa, that's Deepwood Motte! Deepwood Motte in the Wolfswood!"

"There are no flowers growing all around, no delicious fruit, and certainly none of the South's warm weather."

"You'll have to endure the cold there. You might even hear wolves howling every day..."

Catelyn grew agitated, and a string of disparaging remarks about Deepwood Motte spilled from her lips.

She couldn't bear the thought of her daughter having to endure the North's bitter cold for the rest of her life.

Sansa listened, bewildered, and couldn't help interrupting Catelyn's endless complaints.

"But Mother, it's the same here at Winterfell."

"And I've lived just fine!"

Catelyn was at a loss for words. Sansa had grown up in the North and had never seen the South's mild climate and abundance.

For a moment, she didn't know how to explain.

Catelyn's lips were dry. She wanted to speak again, to paint a picture of the South's abundance and try to change Sansa's mind.

But before she could, Sansa asked a question that cut to the heart of the matter.

"Mother, after all these years in Winterfell, do you still prefer the South?"

Catelyn froze.

A rush of shame came over her, as if someone had seen straight through her and uncovered a secret she kept buried.

Sansa didn't notice. Instead, she pressed on.

"I'm not like you, Mother. I'm a daughter of the North, and there's nothing wrong with marrying and living here."

"Besides, Garon loves me very much!"

"I... I like... him too!"

"Mother, don't you want me to marry a man who loves me and whom I love?"

"Just like you and Father."

Catelyn had no answer. She loved Ned deeply and had never regretted marrying him.

She had only wanted to endure the North's bitter cold herself. There was no need for her daughter to stay here and suffer too.

The Tully family words had always been "Family, Duty, Honor."

Family had always come before duty and honor.

But as she looked at Sansa's happy face, Catelyn began to waver.

"If Sansa can be happy, then marrying Garon might not be such a bad thing."

"No... no!"

"How could there be any happiness in Deepwood Motte?"

At the thought of Garon being mixed up with a bastard, Catelyn's resolve hardened again.

After choosing her words carefully, she prepared to try another way of changing Sansa's mind.

"If you can be happy, Mother certainly won't stand in your way."

Catelyn took Sansa's hand and spoke gently. "I'm only worried that you're still young and might be taken in by someone's sweet talk."

Sansa looked ready to protest, but Catelyn quickly continued, "All right, you know the king will arrive at Winterfell in three days, don't you?"

Sansa nodded to show that she did.

Catelyn stroked Sansa's youthful hand and smiled. "This time, not only the king and queen are coming. Their children are coming too."

"Do you know what that means?"

Seeing Sansa's puzzled expression, she explained, "The king's eldest son, Joffrey, is around your age. The king intends to arrange a marriage alliance with House Stark."

"What!"

Sansa cried out in surprise. She looked at Catelyn in disbelief. "Mother, do you mean I could become queen?"

Seeing that her words had worked, Catelyn smiled fondly. "Yes, my daughter. You'll have the chance to become the queen who rules the Seven Kingdoms!"

Sansa was so excited she could have leaped into the air.

She pulled her hand from her mother's and paced around the room in excitement.

"Me, a queen?"

A radiant smile bloomed across Sansa's face, as she pictured herself in the Red Keep in King's Landing.

Unfortunately, her smile lasted only a moment before she realized there was a problem.

"But Mother, Father has already promised me to Garon."

"How could he agree to a marriage alliance with the king?"

Catelyn hadn't expected Sansa to catch on so quickly. She froze, then hurried to reassure her.

"Don't worry, Sansa."

"I'll convince your father!"

The smile faded from Sansa's face.

She could tell from the moment she heard it that her mother, Catelyn, wasn't sure she could persuade her father, Ned.

She knew that this supposed alliance and chance to become queen were no more than castles in the air.

After all, in Winterfell, Ned Stark's word mattered most.

Sansa bit her lip and said with difficulty, "Mother, Father won't agree."

"He's already promised that Garon and I will get engaged. He definitely won't break his promise."

Sansa looked at Catelyn, tamped down the faint stirring in her heart, then turned and walked over to the bed.

"Mother, I'm a little tired. I'd like to go to bed early."

Catelyn sighed inwardly, knowing that the conversation had failed completely.

She shook her head, wished Sansa good night, and turned to leave.

When Catelyn returned to her bedroom, exhausted, she found Ned standing naked by the window, letting the cold wind blow over him.

The wind rushed into the room, making the flames in the fireplace flicker.

Catelyn felt a chill rise through her and couldn't help shivering.

Ned saw her shiver, closed the window, and drew the heavy brocade curtains.

The wind was shut out, and the room soon grew warm again.

Catelyn took off her outer clothes and sat at the dressing table, silently removing her jewelry.

"You talked to Sansa?"

Ned asked, though he already knew the answer.

Catelyn didn't want to respond, but Ned went on regardless. "Catelyn, Sansa may look like you, but she's a Stark at heart."

"If she's a Stark, how could she object to the North's bitter cold?"

"Your reasoning never made sense in the first place!"

Catelyn grew furious and slammed her jewelry down on the table. "You're right. You're all Starks, and I'm the only outsider at Winterfell!"

Ned walked up behind her, naked, and rested his hands on her shoulders, smiling as he tried to soothe her. "You're already the mother of five Starks. How could you be an outsider?"

"Sansa and Garon like each other. Why insist on playing the villain?"

"If you really can't bear to let it go, I'll promise you that you can take charge of Arya's marriage when the time comes."

Catelyn shot Ned a glare, but in the end, she was so furious that she bit him.

"I'm not only the mother of five Starks—I'm about to be the mother of a sixth!"

Like a proud cat, she pounced on Ned and knocked him onto the bed, speaking suggestively.

Ned, aroused, turned the tables and fought back.