new story. I decided to go with the book ages. catelyn is 32.
taken from vainxlifepoetess plot bunny.
And not a soul to hear -that's what Catelyn thought as she looked down at the body of her son and his pregnant wife.
"Not a soul to hear." She looked to the man standing next to her. Henry Tudor. The gods had played a cruel trick on her. They'd taken her three sons, her firstborn! That was what hurt her the most. Rickon and Bran. She knew they were dead, long gone. She hated thinking this, but at least their deaths were not as painful, she had not been there to witness them. But Robb ...
An even more cruel joke was Henry Tudor in cohort with Lannister. He was one of those kings from the continent called Europe who'd turned their backs on their old gods for the christian god. Catelyn hated it. More so, she hated the new spin the so called Reformists took on the christian religion. They believed all unbelievers should be converted and they preached of love and that had won them many adepts.
Fools! The whole lot of them. But her honor prevented her from speaking up. Henry the Eighth had been heartbroken after the wife he'd intended to divorce had died in the great plague, and so had his great love, Anne Boleyn -the woman to whom he was ready to risk it all for the sake of a son. Now he'd sold his soul to the devil, asking Tywyn Lannister to spare her so he could wed her and bed her and get a son from her. He was that desperate.
Catelyn was only thirty two yet to some she looked younger. Henry told her she reminded him of Katherine and Anne. He did not spare any expense for their wedding. He was enchanted by her and he'd known how many children she had, and not one miscarriage.
After she said the words the christian priest blessed their unions. He was like a septon of the highest in the hierarchy of Catholic priests, a Cardinal by the name of Wolsey. He said "Amen" and everyone did as well. Catelyn too though the words felt hollow in her mouth.
"And so it is ... not a soul to hear." The song ended. A song Henry was forcing to hear. Here, they didn't have the bedding ceremony as they did in her continent, but yet everyone would attend the consummation while he curtains were closed to prove that they had become man and wife. In a way it was just as bad.
The song also served another purpose -as a warning. Henry Tudor, she had been told by that backstabber Lord Walder Frey, could be volatile. One day he could be gentle, other days he could be violent.
Catelyn had resigned herself to her fate. She had no more will to live. If this was what the gods wanted of her then so be it.
Henry smiled at his wife. He could see the sadness in her eyes. He remembered when he and Katherine lost their new year baby. It was never easy losing a son, but in time she would forget. In time, he told himself, she will give me a son and everything else before her time as Eddard Stark's wife and her son's commander would be forgotten.
They were brought to bed. The wine she'd drank was powerful but not powerful enough to dull her senses. Henry came, dressed as her in only a chemise. They got on the bed that had also been blessed by the Cardinal and other priests. (Such strange customs -Catelyn thought. In Westeros we would not have the patience for these christian ninnies and their ceremonies). But she was not in Westeros anymore, she had to remember that, her head told her.
In a move that surprised everyone, Henry ordered everyone to go. He turned back to his wife and said he would spare her the shame. Catelyn was thankful for that but it did little to remedy what came after.
He was no Ned. Ned was gentle, but Henry was passionate and he was desperate. He needed a son, he wanted a son and tonight he would stay up all night getting one on her.