When the news first reached Brienne she’d thought it was a fever dream. Septon Meribald had needed to assure her it was real several times over, relaying the information to her as he changed the bandages on her face. On hearing that her lady was alive, she’d wanted to ride for Riverrun immediately, but it was five torturous days before Septon Meribald allowed she might be strong enough to travel.
If her horse hadn’t needed to rest Brienne would scarcely have stopped on the way, though her wounds pained her throughout the whole journey. She’d expected danger behind every tree and bend in the road, but she’d made it to the castle without further difficulty. The men at the gates had been eventually consented to let her in, but she was made to give up her weapons and given an escort of two armed soldiers. They agreed to take her to Lady Catelyn, at least. That was what she wanted, more than food or rest or a warm fire.
Once she was standing outside Lady Catelyn’s bedchamber, though, she wasn’t sure what to do. All through her journey, she’d convinced herself that this was real, that she’d be able to see Lady Catelyn again. At no point had she considered what she would actually say. She hadn’t come all this way to stop here, though. She raised a hand, took a deep breath, and knocked.
night after night the echoes of those screaming voices had a grip on her throat. the sky could crumble and the widow wouldn’t notice - they were louder than storms. she had wished, in those hours, for the stranger to take her away too - it was too much to bear, all at the same time. she was tired, yes, tired was a good word, all that had happened was too much to be considered a trial of the gods. life was cruel, yes, but what had she done to deserve such a heavy hand ??
she sat besides the window to the riverlands, the twins far away in the distance, the last place where she saw her son dethrowned from his life. it was painful, yes, no mother should see their children die, but the truth was that she survived, or so the stranger wanted her to. she was glad that in that moment of madness, she had managed the strength to ride down to riverrun, her home by the trident, her uncle not speaking a single word. news would follow suit. the widow returns to her resting place, where there is no rest but mourning.
days passed, and night after night she dreamed of eddard and robb, united and hunting, while bran and rickon, the youngest, waited for her to embrace them. it seemed like too long ago she had all the strength to bring back what remained of her family. but what now ?? what can the cornered pray do ??
a server ser blackfish appointed to help the widow had told her of someone who had come to see her. without a second thought, catelyn ordered to be left alone - with what honor could she meet with anyone but her sorrow ?? - but it seemed like those efforts were for naught. her face turned to the door of her chambers, the knock on it echoed through the room. a familiar noise, she thought. « come... come in. » she exhaled, it was not like she had any other option.
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