Fandomweekly Challenge 38 - Preserving the bloodline

[m_findlow]

Title: Preserving the bloodline
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters: Ned Stark, Catelyn Stark
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 38 - Bloodline at fandomweekly
Summary: The newest resident of Winterfell is anything but welcome
Disclaimer: I don't own them

Catelyn clutched the babe tighter to her breast, but still the crying wouldn't stop.

Please, she begged the gods, make it stop. She couldn't take it anymore, being reminded at all hours of the night that it was still here. She'd thought perhaps she could smother it in the night, and claim no knowledge of it in the morning. Babes died all the time during the night for reasons unknown, but even as she'd held the soft pelt over him, she knew she couldn't do it. She hated it, but she couldn't kill it.

The door pushed opened and the sound of the wood creaking against its iron hinges startled her. Robb's tiny mouth detached from her and his face scrunched up, tantamount to letting out his own frustrated cry before she readjusted him in her arms, allowing him to find her once more.

Ned Stark paced into the room, seeing Catelyn curled up in the chair, the swaddling bundle in her arms, and the other in the far corner, crying its heart out. Jon Snow. A bastard's name. Not one he would have chosen, but the only one he could in the circumstances.

'God's be good,' Ned exclaimed, 'there's sound enough to wake half of Winterfell.' Cat ignored him, holding Robb even closer. Robb was hers. Her own flesh and blood.

Ned stood over the cot, seeing the tiny creature struggle and wail. He gave the baby his little finger and it began to suck in earnest, silencing its cries. Jon had hardly cried the entire journey north, but now nothing seemed able to ease his cries, as if he sensed the unsettling dislike his adopted mother held for him. The sudden cessation of sound at Ned's attentions only served to incense Cat more.

'He's hungry,' Ned said. 'When did he last feed?'

'I don't know,' Cat replied, not even looking up.

Ned sighed, knowing there'd been discord ever since he'd brought the child home, but that he would stand firm in the face of her adversity.

'You can't ignore him, Cat.'

'No,' she argued. 'I will not give suck to that... abomination.' She wouldn't dare speak his name. 'Find a wet nurse if you must, but I will not sacrifice Robb's life for his.'

Ned narrowed his eyes at his young wife. 'And they say the Northmen have hearts of ice. Do the hearts of Riverlanders freeze over when the snow begins to fall?'

Cat stood up, blue eyes filled with fury as she set Rob down in his own cot, turning to finally face her husband.

'I sacrificed everything for you, Ned. You left me with child to go fight a war, and I was fine with that. I prayed night and day for you to come back unhurt. I accepted that you might share a bed with other women, even that you might get them with child, but never - never - did I expect you to return home once all was done and bring home that child to throw in my face.'

Indeed, his warm reception had been quickly tempered by the babe in arms that had accompanied him back to Winterfell. Lord Hoster Tully's own letter to him had been vitriolic to say the least, that he should degrade and disgrace Tully's eldest daughter so by bringing back the bastard child to house as one of his own.

'Jon is my son,' Ned replied. 'He will be raised as such, whatever your feelings on the matter.'

'He is not our son!'

'He is a Stark! Look at his face and tell me truly, that he does not look a Stark to you.'

She refused to look down at the boy. 'No,' she replied curtly. 'He is a Snow. He will always be a Snow.'

'He is more a Stark than you,' Ned spat back, annoyed at his own anger. 'He is Stark by blood.'

Cat was so angry that tears sprung to her eyes. 'I would give you a dozen sons, if only you would let me. Robb is your son, your heir. He will have brothers and sisters, I vow it. Please just take the boy away. He doesn't belong here.'

'And where should he go, Cat? He needs our protection.'

'He needs his mother, whoever and wherever she might be.'

Why Ned refused to say which whore had given him this child, she couldn't understand, and yet he had dutifully carried the child thousands of leagues north. She loved Ned but she couldn't find it in her heart to love any bastard of his. His actions had diminished her own efforts to bring him an heir, and diminished her in the eyes of all of Winterfell. Everyone in the city knew of the bastard son of Winterfell. He could never inherit by law, Cat knew, but his existence was a blight on her reputation. Catelyn Stark, Lady of Winterfell, but who had brought him only one of the two sons he proclaimed as his own.

'That's not possible,' Ned replied, looking unusually despondent, even with his naturally grave features.

'Why do you choose to shame me so?' she asked.

'My intention was never to shame you, Cat.'

Catelyn's reaction was one of unrelenting vexation. She would not find it in her heart to accept the boy.

'I shall ask Maester Luwin to find a wet nurse for Jon, if it so displeases you,' he said. 'Would you prefer I also move him to another room?' Another village would probably not be far enough away to appease her, probably all the way to the Wall. Mayhaps that would be all Jon's future might hold, but for now Ned would keep him close and raise him as befit a son of House Stark.

'Thank you,' Cat replied, though feeling rather as if she had accepted less than was her right. She grabbed her skirts and strode out.

Ned stared down at the babe. It gurgled at him contentedly.

'You will always be a Stark, Jon.'