Nought but death (chapter 2)
Summary: The night after his discovery Ned meets his wife in the godswood, again coming eye to eye with what she has become.
(I recommend you read part 1 first if you haven't)
The first part that I wrote for nedcat week was never meant to be more than what I posted, but I couldn't stop thinking about Cat as a vampire and at least a couple of you asked for more. So here's more!
The night was even colder than usual as Ned walked through the godswood, clouds covered the moon and the stars. The darkness pressed in around him and the shadows created by his lantern seemed to reach for him. Even so he was aware it was not the darkness that frightened him. He had never been afraid of the dark because there had never been anything in it. As it was he knew there was something in the darkness of the godswood. Someone in the darkness of the godswood.
He had returned to her chamber in the morning. There had been no trace of what had taken place except for that Catelyn’s unmoving form had been wearing a different nightgown. If not for that Ned would have been able to convince himself it had all been one of his many nightmares. The dead body on the floor and his wife covered in that man’s blood would not have been real.
Maester Luwin had gently brought up the change of clothes and Ned had told him he had himself changed her nightgown because the least they could do for her was allow her to wear something clean as she slept. The good maester had frowned, clearly not satisfied by that explanation, but had to Ned’s relief not questioned it further. It was difficult enough without Luwin’s curious eyes prying into it.
In truth he did not know what had become of the other nightgown. He did not know what had become of all the blood or the dead body, either. After having promised to meet him in the godswood she had used a wet cloth to wipe the blood from his skin and then she had shut him out of the room.
The snow creaked so loudly under Ned’s boots when the rest of the world was quiet. There was no wind blowing through the trees and he could not hear anything moving through the undergrowth. It was easy to believe even the gods had deserted the godswood. Or were they silently watching him as he walked to meet with the cold creature of death he called his wife?
It was no easy thing to put one foot in front of the other when he knew what awaited him, but he did it all the same. Each step bringing him closer to Catelyn.
Ned shivered. What if he turned back? Would she follow him back to the keep? Or would she stay in the godswood and wait for him until dawn forced her back to her bed? He did not wish to meet her and yet he could not stay away. He had to go to her.
He was not far away from the heart tree when he saw something dark on the ground. Something that had fallen from the trees was no concern to him in that moment and so he did not pay it much mind. There was something much more important ahead.
Only that when he came closer to it the lantern revealed that the snow was stained red. A deep, dark, glistening red. Ned needed not bend down and touch it to realise what it was and even so he stopped. Unable to tear his eyes away from the blood by his feet as the previous night returned to him with the force of a steel clad fist. Catelyn had killed someone and there was blood on the ground. It had only just stopped snowing so it must have happened just before he came there.
There was more blood as he forced himself to continue his walk with heavy legs. A few drops at first, though then Ned came further and the drops grew into small puddles.
He followed the trail of blood to the heart tree, walking so quickly he was almost running. The fear was still eating at his heart, though he did not even consider how dark it was anymore. There was barely any snow covering the blood and so it had to be fresh. What had happened? Had anything happened to Catelyn?
A hooded figure stood before the roots of the weirwood, casting their long shadow upon the white tree. At their feet was another person and that person did not move. The two of them were surrounded by a sea of blood. A pool of darkness in the whiteness of the fresh snow.
Catelyn turned to look at him. Her eyes were little spots of light, reflecting the fire of the lantern even as her face was shadowed by the hood of her cloak. Ned was not certain he would have recognised her had it not been for the auburn hair that spilled out from the hood.
Something she had been holding fell to the ground with a soft thud and the person still did not move. Another corpse. Another one dead by Catelyn’s hand.
Ned could not breathe. The air was too cold. It burned in his throat and in his lungs. And while he struggled to take deep breaths Catelyn silently watched him. The inhuman shadow he had been warned about when he had been a child.
”I thought I had more time before you would come, my lord” she eventually said.
Her quiet voice seemed loud in the otherwise entirely silent godswood. The night was still around them, as if time did not move then and there.
She lowered her hood, making more of her visible. That time there was no blood all around her mouth, though it was splattered across her face. Dark spots on her pale skin.
”What have you done?” he asked.
He had expected a similar outburst to the one he had been faced with the night before and to his surprise Catelyn’s calm remained.
The lifeless body at her feet was a figure dressed in chain mail and wrapped in a grey cloak. The overcoat was so soiled with blood it was not possible to tell it had also once been grey. At the hip there should have been a sword, but that sword was gone from its sheath. A guard. She had killed one of the guards that were there for their protection. Ned could not even see which one of them it was as his face had been so beaten in it was impossible to make out any features.
”I will not apologise for this” she shrugged.
As if all she was guilty of was rude behaviour. He had not seen her that way the night before. Her bloodlust had driven her to kill a man, though she had been in agony over it. She had not wanted to kill anyone. The guard on the ground was dead because she had wanted him dead.
”He’s dead!”
Catelyn titled her head to one side and looked down on the dead guard. There was not a trace of remorse to be found in her expression, she regarded her kill with anger. That burning fury Ned had come to know so intimately.
”He is dead, my lord, because he thought disgusting things about our daughter.”
”Sansa?” Ned found himself asking even as he did not want to know.
He could not stand to know what those thoughts had been. The guard’s mind had contained something so vile Catelyn had not had it in her to let him live. Something regarding their daughter.
”Arya” Catelyn spat. ”No man should think such vile things about a little girl and I will have no one in her presence who would do her harm.”
Would the guard, whichever one of them it was that laid mangled on the ground before him, have done his daughter harm?
”He wanted to. He envisioned with great detail how he would rid her of her wild tendencies and now he will never have that thought again.”
His head bashed in with a rock. Ned felt nauseous for more reason than one. Their little girl.
”Who is it?” he asked, his voice appearing hoarse even to himself.
”You will see on the morrow.”
”I would know now which member of our household you have murdered.”
Because it was murder even as she had done it for a reason. Ned would not have permitted anyone with the intention of doing his children harm to remain in Winterfell. Perhaps he would have acted the same way as Catelyn had it been he who came upon those thoughts. Though it was still murder. There had been no trial and so it was no execution. It was murder.
Catelyn looked troubled then.
”You will not be glad to hear it and so it can wait” she insisted.
A dozen names passed through Ned’s mind and then a dozen more did the same. He had trusted each and every man serving in Winterfell’s guard. The children all had their favourites. The ones that often kindly looked the other way when they were up to harmless mischief. Was it one of Arya’s favourites?
Ned managed to walk over to the dead guard on the ground, properly looking at him for the first time. He looked at the bloodied remains of what had once been a face but was a face no more. It was barely even a head. There was only a sludge consisting of blood and bone and some other matter Ned could not name.
The world was swimming around him. Never before had he seen a skull so thoroughly ruined and he prayed he would never see it again. There was no way of telling it was a human head. No mouth, no nose, no eyes. Catelyn had not stopped at the kill. No, she had beaten him until nothing remained.
He had to turn his head away when a wave of nausea came over him and his lantern slipped out of his grasp. It landed upright and the light flickered for a moment, but did not go out. The continued light allowed Ned to meet the gaze of the weirwood.
It was too cold for the weirwood to weep, though its eyes were already bloodied enough. It looked down upon the scene before it with the same melancholy that was always present in its carved features. The weirwood made no difference between joy and sorrow. It just watched and listened, eternally silent except for the rustling of its leaves.
”I meant no disrespect to your gods” Catelyn said.
”Many have bled before a heart tree. Many have died before a heart tree.”
Even so he would never again be able to kneel before a heart tree without the reminder of what had taken place there.
Catelyn bent her head down in a shameful gesture.
”I did not have the sanctity of the godswood in mind. Forgive me.”
”That forgiveness is not mine to give” Ned told her.
It was said that in the old days sacrifices had been made to the weirwood trees in order to appease the gods. Though Nan had told him of how the ones that fed on blood followed no gods. They defied the gods by living after they were supposed to be dead and in drinking blood from others they denied the gods blood that rightfully belonged to them.
”I did not drink his blood” Catelyn let him know. ”The Old Gods can have all of it if they so desire.”
It would seep into the ground and be absorbed by the mighty roots of the weirwood. Though would that be enough to appease the gods if they had already been angered?
”Perhaps they will strike me down even as you stubbornly refuse” she suggested.
”Would you not prefer your gods do it?” Ned had to ask.
He would have rather not been put to justice by foreign gods.
”I will find myself in one of the seven hells no matter which gods see fit to take me there.”
It did not seem right to hear her speak of herself in such a manner. He recognised the rage so well, but still it was not her. She was not one of those damned souls.
Slowly Catelyn approached him and he let her come. She did not touch him, but she stood close enough to do so.
”But I am one of those damned souls, my love. Not by choice, perhaps, but that makes little difference now.”
So Ned reached for her. Tried to wipe the blood from her face using his gloved hand. It only served to smear it out over her skin, making the sight of her even more horrible. Though apart from that she looked like Catelyn. His Catelyn. It was the face of the woman who had stood at his side for the past fifteen years and yet he knew that if he were to remove his glove her skin would be unnaturally cold under his fingers.
Catelyn did not move as he touched her. She merely stood there and watched him. As if she had been carved from stone. As if she was something that had escaped from deep within the crypts.
“No one had brushed my hair when I awoke” she said softly, lowering her hood. “You kept people away today.”
“I kept the children away” he had to admit.
They had protested loudly, all wishing to visit their mother, though in the end they had respected that perhaps what Catelyn needed was some peace. Just for a few days to see if it would improve her condition. Sansa had made him promise her hair would still be brushed and yet that had not been done.
A bitter smile appeared on Catelyn’s face.
“I knew you realised the danger I present. I knew you were not fool enough to dismiss it.”
“I… I want nothing to befall our children.”
Her hands were colder than the night air as they found his face. Ned had thought her to be wearing gloves, though found that was not right as she touched him. It only appeared that way because her hands were covered in quickly drying blood.
The instinct of taking of his own gloves and giving them to her struck him, though it quickly faded from his mind. She did not need his warmth anymore.
Even with the blood on her hands it was an affectionate gesture and she performed it with a softness that made Ned ache. She touched him the same way she always had and he had never wanted it more. Though those were not her hands.
“You want noting to befall our children and so I must die” she concluded.
”No.”
She did not need to die. She could not die. Even the thought was too heavy to bear. There had to be a different way.
”Because you love me” she sighed, lowering her hands to his chest.
”I… Catelyn…”
”Had I been a kitchen maid rather than your lady wife you would not have hesitated” Catelyn stated. ”You would have put me to death for murder before I could kill again.”
And Ned could not speak it out loud, but was she not right? Would he not have acted differently had she been someone else? Though she was not someone else. She had carried his children. She had given him the most precious thing he would ever have and he loved her for it. He would always love her for it.
”How many dead before you have to act?” she then asked.
How many dead before his hand was forced? Two were already too many and yet he did not know what to do. Did anyone know what to do?
Catelyn tilted her head to the side, regarding him with a sorrow that did not seem right on her face.
”I have already told you what must be done, Ned.”
He had thought of going to the library to see if he could find anything written about Catelyn’s change. He had only ever heard about it from Nan and Nan told so many stories that were not true. But then the entire day had passed in a panicked haze and he had never found himself in the library.
“What if it can be reversed?” he asked.
It was a foolish idea, but could he be anything but a fool when faced with what was ahead of him?
“You do not believe in that” Catelyn scoffed. “I feel your hesitation. I can hear your true thoughts.”
“Then keep out of my head.”
He did not want anyone inside his mind and especially not her.
One of her hands found the dagger in his belt and she slowly wrapped her fingers around the hilt. Carefully and without ever looking away from Ned she drew the dagger from its sheath.
“You could do it here” she said, holding the dagger so that he could take it from her. “You could do it now.”
Again. She insisted on it again.
“I will not and you know that.”
He would not do it. Even if he had wanted to do it he would not have been able to. He could not kill her. He could not raise a weapon against her even with dead men at their feet.
“Forcing me to endure this is not love” Catelyn hissed. “Say it was that man who killed me. Say you killed him in a rage because of what he did to me.”
“He did not–“
“You need not protect him, he wished to hurt our daughter!”
Again there was the blazing rage in her eyes. A fire that burned so bright and blue that Ned had to step backwards. Though for every step he took backward Catelyn took one forward, keeping herself close to him even as he tried to put distance between them.
“If only you had seen what I saw in him” she continued. “If only you could see all I now see. This is no life. If you truly loved me you would put an end to it.”
With that strength she had not previously possessed she forced the dagger into his hand. Closed his fingers around it even as he resisted.
“Stop that!” he demanded, trying to push the weapon back into her hands.
“Take it!”
Somewhere in that struggle his right hand slipped, shaking too much to withstand her force. A sharp pain exploded in his hand as the blade cut into his palm and the dagger fell to the ground between them.
Ned looked down at his hand, saw the blood seeping through the cut in the glove. Everything was still as he carefully removed it to look at the wound.
Before he could do so Catelyn had ceased him by the wrist, turning his hand so that she could see his bloodied palm. The sound she made was not one Ned had ever heard before. Had it not been for that she was standing right before him he would have thought it an animal.
“Let me go” he managed to get out.
“I want your blood” she whispered feverishly.
Ned could barely hear her over the sound of his own heart.
“Catelyn, let me go.”
His words went unheard as Catelyn took a deep breath through her nose.
“I have not eaten. I should have eaten. He disgusted me so much I could not even taste his blood, but your blood smells sweet.”
Ned held his breath as she released her grip with one hand and touched his blood with the tips of her fingers. His blood mixed with the dried blood that already covered her hands.
She raised her hand and Ned watched as she put her fingers to her lips, her tongue darting out to taste his blood. His wife. Tasting his blood. Again the world spun around him.
Her eyes closed and there was something akin to pleasure on her face. If not pleasure then at least relief. A calmness came over her. All tension seemed to drain from her body.
She repeated the action even as Ned struggled against her hold, taking as much pleasure in the second taste of blood as she had in the first.
”You have to stop” he protested weakly.
He put his free hand on her shoulder and tried to push her away, though the gesture entirely lacked strength. Would she bite him? Would she drain him?
“Please, Cat” he pleaded.
Catelyn finally pulled away, taking a heaving breath as if she was desperate for air. She almost stumbled away, turning her back to him.
“I’m sorry” she panted, putting her hands over her mouth and nose. “I’m sorry. I do not ever want to hurt you. I did not… I do not want this.”
Ned held his wounded hand to his chest in some foolish attempt to hide it from her. As if she would not be able to wrestle back control if she so wished.
He could have could have fled then. He considered it. He did not know how fast she was, though it was possible she would not chase him. Perhaps she would stay where she was.
”Will you see reason now?” Catelyn asked, still out of breath. ”When you’re so afraid you wish to run from me.”
”See reason?”
It was all beyond reason.
”What happens when Robb hurts himself while training or Arya manages to scrape her knees again?” Catelyn said, lowering her hands. ”I cannot control myself and so their safety cannot be be guaranteed.”
He knew that what she said was true. No one was safe for as long as she remained in Winterfell, least of all their children. Their protection was more important than anything else. Ned dared not think of what could become of Jon.
”You must leave” he said hoarsely.
He so desired a different path and yet he knew she had to leave Winterfell.
”I don’t want to leave. I can’t bring myself to walk away from my children.”
Their sweet children. What would it have taken for Ned himself to leave them behind?
”You would rather have the father of your children kill you?” he had to question.
“You are the only one I trust to do it. I so wish I could reveal my secret to someone else and be free of this, but there is only you.”
The only one she trusted to do it. Ned’s chest hurt so much he could scarcely think.
”No one need do it if you agree to leave” he forced out.
Catelyn grimaced.
”Oh but you are a mad one” she said. ”Even if I could muster enough strength to leave my heart behind people would die. You would set a bloodthirsty monster loose upon your country.”
Though she would not be the only one. That strange woman that had made Catelyn ill could not be the only one, could she? There had to be more of them. Moving through the country under the cover of night.
Tears rose in Catelyn’s eyes as she looked at him and again Ned could not see that bloodthirsty monster. He saw only his wife even with what had happened. He saw the Catelyn he knew and loved so well. It only served to make the pain worse.
”Do not force me to be one of them” Catelyn said softly, her voice thick with tears. ”I understand I ask a great deal from you, but please do not force me to be one of them.”
”Though I cannot do it” Ned told her for what felt like the hundredth time. ”I do not want you to suffer for so much as another moment, though I will not be able to hurt you.”
She deserved so much better than that suffering, though she was strong. She had always been strong. Ned had always loved her for it.
Catelyn turned her back to him as the tears in her eyes spilled over, making herself only a dark silhouette to him.
”And again I wish you had loved me less” she sniffled. ”A different man would have put me to death without hesitation.”
When they had wed he had not thought he would ever love her. They had been wed for convenience and nothing but. Though slowly it had crept up on him and as he stood there it was as certain as night and day.
”I wish I could say my thoughts are of how much I love you, though all I can think of is your blood” Catelyn confessed, sounding horrified by her own words. ”The taste of it lingers on my tongue.”
The thought of that she would again take hold of him was frightening. He realised himself he was a fool to have stayed there with her. Any sane man would have fled at the very first sight of her. Fled or fought. Fulfilled her wish to meet death.
”Am I not monster enough for you?”
”You are too much yourself still” he said. ”Underneath that wretched bloodlust.”
That made it so difficult to grasp. It was undoubtedly her and yet Ned could not fathom it. It was too much for him to understand.
”If only I had been mindless” she said, not without bitterness.
She walked over to the ruined body on the ground and took it by the arm. With little struggle she began dragging it out of the clearing and within a few moments she had disappeared into the darkness. Leaving behind a trail of blood in the fresh snow.
”See to your wound, my lord” she called.
Hearing her voice from between the trees without being able to see her only added to his unease.
”Do you wish for me to leave?”
”I wish not to kill my husband and as you reek of blood I fear I will.”
As he did not wish to kill his wife.
”What happens after I leave?” Ned asked, hearing the tremble in his own voice.
Somewhere within the darkness she stopped moving.
”You come back tomorrow night and you are ready to do what must be done. You may weep and agonise, but I beg of you that you still do it.”
That he had not envisioned on the day they had been wed. So much sorrow and yet he could have never imagined that his wife would one dark night fifteen years into the future beg him to kill her.
”I will not” he insisted yet again.
Though she was moving again, saying nothing. Either she had not heard him or she would not listen to what he said.
