Mar 6, 2024
i love how the asoiaf fandom has collectively granted Ned the title of the “gentler parent” or the “softer northern leader” when this man wanted his 3 yr old to have a front row seat for a casual beheading.
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i love how the asoiaf fandom has collectively granted Ned the title of the “gentler parent” or the “softer northern leader” when this man wanted his 3 yr old to have a front row seat for a casual beheading.
A Game of Thrones, Catelyn I
“Winter is coming.”
The words gave her a chill, as they always did. The Stark words.
Every noble house had its words. Family mottoes, touchstones, prayers of sorts, they boasted of honor and glory, promised loyalty and truth, swore faith and courage.
All but the Starks.
Winter is coming, said the Stark words.
Not for the first time, she reflected on what a strange people these northerners were.
Branwen reads ASOIAF (again) - AGOT Catelyn I
This chapter, Catelyn gives us the speed run explanations of so much important information and backstory. Just, so much.
Catelyn is heading into the godhood of Winterfell, which is drastically different to the one in Riverrun, which is more of a pleasure garden. And once again, I’m just going to have to just put in the description of the godswood, so you can see it in all its glory.
The gods of Winterfell kept a different sort of wood. It was a dark, primal place, three acres of old forest untouched for ten thousand years as the gloomy castle rose around it. It smelled of moist earth and decay. No redwoods grew here. This was a wood of stubborn sentinel trees armored in grey-green needles, of mighty oaks, of ironwoods as old as the realm itself. Here thick black trunks crowded close together while twisted branches wove a dense canopy overhead and misshapen roots wrestled beneath the soil. This was a place of deep silence and brooding shadows, and the gods who lived here had no names.
I find it interesting, that that the trees in the WF godswood are described as sentinels or soldiers in pretty much every PoV description. It’s almost as if they’re guarding something... And the godswood itself is also specifically mentioned as older than WF, which is already a pretty old place. An old, untouched forest. Very spooky. The “deep silence and brooding shadows” is also interesting detail- one that seems very relevant to the Starks. And the old gods. Oh, we’ll get to the old gods.
Cat is going into the godswood, to check on Ned. He always has a meditation session there. Cat doesn’t get it, not really.
She was born and raised in the light of the Seven, the other major religion of Westeros.
Catelyn had been anointed with the seven oils and named in the rainbow of light that filled the sept of Riverrun. She was of the Faith, like her father and grandfather and his father before him. Her gods had names, and their faces were as familiar as the faces of her parents.
The Seven is medieval Catholicism with the serial numbers filed off, lol. Which is not a bad thing, since medieval christianity could get... weird. But I’ll also point out, that with our two most faithful to the new gods POV characters, Davos and Cat, there’s a theme of familiarity with their gods that is very interesting. Cat in particular sees people she knows in the faces of the Seven, and it’s cool to see that this is introduced very early in the story. I’m going to keep an eye on this- since the Seven are so full of foreshadowing it's crazy.
Ned actually built a little sept for Cat, so she can worship, even though her gods are not his. And this is such an interesting detail on multiple levels. One: Ned and Cat have are really solid relationship despite coming from two very different back grounds. And that relationship is so solid because they both put effort into building it together. Almost like the sept is a metaphor.... Second: I find the lack of actual conflict around the new and old gods a little... suspect? Odd? I get that most of the religious conflict happened when the Andals invaded, but the Faith Militant never wanted to do a Northern crusade? Or did they do that and I just don’t remember? ( I just looked it up, and there was a kerfuffle in the Riverlands with House Blackwood, leading the Durrandons rolling in, but that’s not what I was thinking about. Also, the fact that all of the castles, even in the south that were definitely not built by the First Men seem to have weir woods??? Idk, I’m sure there’s an explanation, I’ve just read too much about historical religious conflict to buy into it.)
But anyway, I guess the third point is that the Starklings live in a multi faith household, which is also fun! and good for diplomacy points later, haha.
but the blood of the First Men still flowed in the veins of the Starks, and his own gods were the old ones, the nameless, faceless gods of the greenwood they shared with the vanished children of the forest.
HMMMM, the first two chapter spend a lot of time emphasizing the Stark’s connection to the First Men, and now we get our first mention of the children of the forest? I wonder if this is at all going to be relevant in the future. HMMMM.
This chapter’s award for best bit of descriptive writing goes to the heart tree!
At the center of the grove an ancient weirwood brooded over a small pool where the waters were black and cold. “The heart tree,” Ned called it. The weirwood’s bark was white as bone, its leaves dark red, like a thousand bloodstained hands. A face had been carved in the trunk of the great tree, its features long and melancholy, the deep-cut eyes red with dried sap and strangely watchful. They were old, those eyes; older than Winterfell itself. They had seen Brandon the Builder set the first stone, if the tales were true; they had watched the castle’s granite walls rise around them. It was said that the children of the forest had carved the faces in the trees during the dawn centuries before the coming of the First Men across the narrow sea.
Mmmm yes, spooky trees. I love it.
This whole paragraph is just so full of stuff. The ancient weir wood “broods” over a small, dark, cold pool? My first thought is actually the dark pool in the House of Black and White, which is described very similarly, and is also a place of prayer. I’m going to hazard a guess that the similarities between the two pools are deliberate, especially since the House of Black and White is one of very few places with a weirwood door.
Ned also calls it the “heart tree.” I think that this can most clearly be interpreted that this tree is the heart of Winterfell, and probably even the heart of the North itself. It also a recurring memory for all of the POV Starks. The tree itself is creepy as all get out, and I love and fear it. “white as bone” and “like a thousand bloodstained hands”? Very ominous, and not all that positive. It’s also a very sad tree, which makes sense considering everything its seen. And we go from the old eyes, immediately to a reference to Brandon the Builder, who raised WF. We have three locations (said to be) built by Brandon the Builder, and two out of three are confirmed to be magical. We’re literally just waiting on WF.
Also, the faces in the trees were all carved by the CotF, before the First Men ever showed up. Which is the start of many implications that the weirwoods and the old gods are probably not *actual* gods, but something created out of old, old magic.
In the south the last weirwoods had been cut down or burned out a thousand years ago, except on the Isle of Faces where the green men kept their silent watch. Up here it was different. Here every castle had its godswood, and every godswood had its heart tree, and every heart tree its face.
We also get the first mention of the Isle of faces, and it’s implied that the “green men” are still there. Will no one go and visit, please???? Also, there are still weirwoods in the South, and I need more explanations for why. House Blackwood gets a pass because they still follow the old gods, but why does Harrenhal have them? And Storm’s End? And why did they try to plant one in the Eyrie? I guess Storm’s End is old enough, but I still have questions, that’ll I’ll try to answer when we get to the relevant bits.
There’s a lot of set up in this chapter. Also, the weirwood at the center of a castle’s godswood is called the heart tree. HMMMM.
Ned is cleaning his blade in the waters of the pool, and I can’t stop seeing Arya parallels, someone help me. You’d think it’d all be Bran stuff right now, but apparently not. Maybe because I'm saving my strength for the Bran chapters? Yeah, that's probably it.
The first thing Ned says is to ask where the children are, and Cat notes that he always asks her that. A pretty interesting character note! I saw a post about this, speculating that this has to do with the fact that Ned lost every member of his family in a very short time span, and he wants to keep tabs on his family so he doesn't lose anyone again. I can see this, as it is supported by Ned not fostering any of kids out, even though all of them except Rickon are old enough, but it’s contradicted later by... literally everything in KL, when he can’t keep track of only two of them. I think it’s more meant to reflect that Ned is a very involved father by Westerosi noble standards. Raising the kids is very much the mother’s job in Westeros, and the bare minimum its checking in on your eldest son and heir, and some lords don’t even bother with that. Ned actually... likes his children????? (Couldn't be Bobby B) and wants to help raise them, and that's what I think this line is more about.
Cat is ignoring the watching eyes of the trees (Bran? Is that you? probably Bloodraven being weird, lets be real.) and lets Ned know that the kids are in the kitchens with the baby direwolves.
“Arya is already in love, and Sansa is charmed and gracious, but Rickon is not quite sure.” “Is he afraid?” Ned asked. “A little,” she admitted. “He is only three.” Ned frowned. “He must learn to face his fears. He will not be three forever. And winter is coming.”
First of all, Sansa is baby, and of course she’s “charmed” by the little killing machines. Second of all, yeah me too, Arya, I’m also in love. Third of all, Ned, he’s three!!!!!! Rickon is an actual three year old child. Why are you judging him for being a little nervous around prehistoric monsters that’ll be able to eat him whole in like six months. He’s being very reasonable.
“he needs to learn to face his fears.” Ned, this is why all of your kids are weird and have no concept of what are reasonable activities for a child. Catelyn can only bring so much normalcy to the table.
The Stark words. Every noble house had its words. Family mottoes, touchstones, prayers of sorts, they boasted of honor and glory, promised loyalty and truth, swore faith and courage. All but the Starks. Winter is coming, said the Stark words. Not for the first time, she reflected on what a strange people these northerners were.
You’re not wrong, Cat. Northerners really are strange. The three year old needs to man up, smh. (Shh, I know it’s about growing up before the shit hits the fan, it’s just fun to make fun of how little George understands the ages and maturity levels of children.)
Also, do we even need to get into the many, many layers of “Winter is Coming”? The Long Night, the North Remembers, the Starklings coming back to get some ass, the upcoming apocalypse, yeah, yeah, we’ve all read the metas from smarter people than me. This chapter analysis going to be way too long already. Let's just note that the Stark words are pretty unique, and move on. We’ll be coming back around later anyway.
“I was glad for Bran’s sake. You would have been proud of Bran.” “I am always proud of Bran,” Catelyn replied
AS you should be, Catelyn. We’re all always proud of Bran. except for that one time he maybe ate his friend
Next up on the important information and backstory roster is: Ice.
It's a very cool sword.
It had been forged in Valyria, before the Doom had come to the old Freehold, when the ironsmiths had worked their metal with spells as well as hammers. Four hundred years old it was, and as sharp as the day it was forged. The name it bore was older still, a legacy from the age of heroes, when the Starks were Kings in the North.
I keep forgetting that the Doom was not actually that long ago, compared to the eight thousand years of Starks. Also, I highly suspect that whatever spells were used to forge Valyrian steel probably involved blood magic.
Now it’s Ned's turn to share some exposition! Things are happening at the Wall apparently.
“He was the fourth this year,” Ned said grimly. “The poor man was half-mad. Something had put a fear in him so deep that my words could not reach him.” He sighed. “Ben writes that the strength of the Night’s Watch is down below a thousand. It’s not only desertions. They are losing men on rangings as well.” “Is it the wildlings?” she asked. “Who else?” Ned lifted Ice, looked down the cool steel length of it. “And it will only grow worse. The day may come when I will have no choice but to call the banners and ride north to deal with this King-beyond-the-Wall for good and all.”
The NW is completely down on its luck, and not even fear of execution is keeping them on the Wall. Ned thinks it’s wildlings, and he’s already planning on going beyond the wall to deal with Mance.
The Stark in Winterfell dealing with the threat beyond the Wall. Hmmmm.
But also, imagine the AU where Jon Arryn lives like another year, and Ned ends up not going south because he’s too busy dealing with Mance and the Others. I’d read that.
But also:
“Beyond the Wall?” The thought made Catelyn shudder. Ned saw the dread on her face. “Mance Rayder is nothing for us to fear.” “There are darker things beyond the Wall.” She glanced behind her at the heart tree, the pale bark and red eyes, watching, listening, thinking its long slow thoughts.
Cat is the one on the ball here. She knows whats up. “thinking it’s long slow thoughts.” I both love that description and hate it. The tree hivemind has machinations in place beyond your mortal comprehension.
His smile was gentle. “You listen to too many of Old Nan’s stories. The Others are as dead as the children of the forest, gone eight thousand years. Maester Luwin will tell you they never lived at all. No living man has ever seen one.”
Are you sure about that, Ned??????? Old Nan also seems to know what's up. Also, Maester Luwin may or may not know things, if we have a sneak peak ahead to ACOK. Also, “The Others are as dead as the children of the forest.” We saw an Other not even two chapters ago. The CotF are totally out there. (I mean even before ADWD lol)
“Until this morning, no living man had ever seen a direwolf either,” Catelyn reminded him.
When she’s right, she's right. Catelyn, for all her “southroness” is much more aware of all the magic and omens happening in the North.
“I ought to know better than to argue with a Tully,” he said with a rueful smile.
lol.
But, sadly, Cat has brought news of the plot.
Catelyn took her husband’s hand. “There was grievous news today, my lord. I did not wish to trouble you until you had cleansed yourself.” There was no way to soften the blow, so she told him straight. “I am so sorry, my love. Jon Arryn is dead.”
Just... the tenderness between Ned and Cat. She takes his hand. She calls him her love. My heart.
His eyes found hers, and she could see how hard it took him, as she had known it would. In his youth, Ned had fostered at the Eyrie, and the childless Lord Arryn had become a second father to him and his fellow ward, Robert Baratheon. When the Mad King Aerys II Targaryen had demanded their heads, the Lord of the Eyrie had raised his moon-and-falcon banners in revolt rather than give up those he had pledged to protect.
.So, how long did Ned spend at the Eyrie? He was eight when he was sent to the Vale, and it sounds like he mainly lived there until 16, and is described as “visiting” WF. I think the impact Jon Arryn had on Ned cannot be overestimated.
I personally think that the Starks as we know them, probably owe more to Jon Arryn’s influence than Rickard Stark’s. I mean, Ned Stark and his sons are known for their sense of honor, and the Arryn words are “As High As Honor.” Idk fam. Doesn’t seem that much of an unreasonable take, considering how wildly different Brandon was from Ned, and even how different Lyanna was. (Random aside, I wonder if there’s some secrets of WF that get passed from the lord to the heir, that Ned didn’t get to learn about since his dad and older brother died at the same time. Seems possible. Especially since Ned doesn't take much stock in omens despite living in weird and wonderful Winterfell) Maybe the Starks are more Arryn than we think. 🤔
And one day fifteen years ago, this second father had become a brother as well, as he and Ned stood together in the sept at Riverrun to wed two sisters, the daughters of Lord Hoster Tully.
Ew ew ew ew. DO not want.
Seriously, Lysa’s story is so sad.
Speaking of Lysa, Ned asks after her and her son.
[Catelyn] could see the grief on his face, but even then he thought first of her.
My heart. These two deserved so much better.
Catelyn correctly realizes that Lysa is probably not doing great, and doing the Westerosi equivalent of locking herself in room is not indicative of great mental health. Ned is ready to let Cat and the kids go comfort Lysa and her son (which would have been the worst family vacation ever, I suspect) but Cat has more news.
The plot is right on their doorstep.
King Robert is on his way, and he’s dragging everyone with him.
Ned is actually pretty happy, since he hasn’t seen Robert in a while, but Cat doesn’t feel that enthusiastic about it.
Catelyn wished she could share his joy. But she had heard the talk in the yards; a direwolf dead in the snow, a broken antler in its throat. Dread coiled within her like a snake, but she forced herself to smile at this man she loved, this man who put no faith in signs.
Oh, poor dear Catelyn. The writing was on the wall from day one. There’s nothing you can do.
Ned jumps up to start preparing for Robert arriving, and finds out that Robert has dragged most of the court with him, including his in-laws, which Ned is not enthusiastic about. Me neither, Ned. Me neither.
“It will be good to see the children. The youngest was still sucking at the Lannister woman’s teat the last time I saw him. He must be, what, five by now?” “Prince Tommen is seven,”
What?
The last time Ned saw Robert and presumably Cersei would have been after the Greyjoy Rebellion, which happened in 289 AC. Tommen isn’t born until 291 AC.
Tommen time traveler confirmed? Did Ned just pop down to KL for a day trip?
I hate the early installment weirdness of AGOT. It makes my head hurt. What is unreliable narration and what is George retconning/changing his mind/forgetting what he wrote??? All I know is that I’m too dumb to figure this out.
Ned is of course sending out his one true BFF, Jory, to meet his estranged bestie Bobby B on the road, while Ned tries to figure out how to feed all these damn people.
Gods, how are we going to feed them all? On his way already, you said? Damn the man. Damn his royal hide.”
Food logistics in Westeros sound like a whole nightmare. And Robert doesn’t even have an army with him. Just saying.
Also, yeah, damn Robert and his royal hide!
oh my god, I am so close to doing line-by-line chapter analysis. And I wonder why these take so long, and these are only going to get longer. Send help.
Operation Stumpy Re-Read
ASOS: Catelyn I (Chapter 2)
Mom! :(
"Your sons," Ser Desmond said at last. "Maester Vyman told us. The poor lads. Terrible. Terrible. But . . ."
"We share your grief, my lady," said Utherydes Wayn. "All Riverrun mourns with you, but . . ."
"The news must have driven you mad," Ser Desmond broke in, "a madness of grief, a mother's madness, men will understand. You did not know . . ."
I giggle every time someone accuses Catelyn of being mad.
+.+.+
It was mine own act and mine alone, and I alone must answer for it. Put me in the Kingslayer's empty irons, and I will wear them proudly, if that is how it must be.
Unreliable narrator Catelyn Stark.
The Kingslayer is still wearing his irons.
+.+.+
"Mayhaps," said the steward Utherydes Wayn, "my lady would consent to be confined to her chambers until Ser Edmure returns. A time alone, to pray for her murdered sons?"
"Confined, aye," Ser Desmond said. "Confined to a tower cell, that would serve."
A lady in a tower!
+.+.+
There was a smell of death about that room; a heavy smell, sweet and foul, clinging.
rofl.
+.+.+
Lord Hoster's eyes opened. "Tansy," he husked in a voice thick with pain.
He does not know me. Catelyn had grown accustomed to him taking her for her mother or her sister Lysa, but Tansy was a name strange to her. "It's Catelyn," she said. "It's Cat, Father."
"Forgive me . . . the blood . . . oh, please . . . Tansy . . ."
Could there have been another woman in her father's life? Some village maiden he had wronged when he was young, perhaps? Could he have found comfort in some serving wench's arms after Mother died? It was a queer thought, unsettling. Suddenly she felt as though she had not known her father at all.
Love that George has already provided a clue to this mystery.
I picked you flowers, wild roses and tansy and goldencups, it took me all morning. - Prologue, ASOS
+.+.+
A raven came to the castle in late afternoon, flapping down on great black wings to the rookery. Dark wings, dark words, she thought, remembering the last bird that had come and the horror it had brought.
[...]
"Was it news of Robb?"
He hesitated. "Yes, my lady."
"Something is wrong." She knew it from his manner. He was hiding something from her. "Tell me. Is it Robb? Is he hurt?" Not dead, gods be good, please do not tell me that he is dead.
The wheels are certainly in motion.
Am I supposed to believe Riverrun heard of Robb's broken betrothal this long after Roose did? That can't be.
Oh no, the timeline is breaking my brain again.
+.+.+
"Forgive me," he said, so softly she could scarcely hear the words. "Tansy . . . blood . . . the blood . . . gods be kind . . ."
Babes and blood again.
+.+.+
That night Catelyn slept fitfully, haunted by formless dreams of her children, the lost and the dead. Well before the break of day, she woke with her father's words echoing in her ears. Sweet babes, and trueborn . . . why would he say that, unless . . . could he have fathered a bastard on this woman Tansy? She could not believe it. Her brother Edmure, yes; it would not have surprised her to learn that Edmure had a dozen natural children. But not her father, not Lord Hoster Tully, never.
Speaking of broken brains, Ned really did a number on Catelyn.
+.+.+
She and her sister had been married on the same day, and left in their father's care when their new husbands had ridden off to rejoin Robert's rebellion. Afterward, when their moon blood did not come at the accustomed time, Lysa had gushed happily of the sons she was certain they carried. "Your son will be heir to Winterfell and mine to the Eyrie. Oh, they'll be the best of friends, like your Ned and Lord Robert. They'll be more brothers than cousins, truly, I just know it." She was so happy.
:)
+.+.+
You'll have others, he said. Sweet babes, and trueborn. Lysa had miscarried five times, twice in the Eyrie, thrice at King's Landing . . . but never at Riverrun, where Lord Hoster would have been at hand to comfort her. Never, unless . . . unless she was with child, that first time . . .
[...]
If she had lost a child before, that might explain Father's words, and much else besides . . . Lysa's match with Lord Arryn had been hastily arranged, and Jon was an old man even then, older than their father. An old man without an heir. His first two wives had left him childless, his brother's son had been murdered with Brandon Stark in King's Landing, his gallant cousin had died in the Battle of the Bells. He needed a young wife if House Arryn was to continue . . . a young wife known to be fertile.
[...]
"Father, I know what you did." She was no longer an innocent bride with a head full of dreams. She was a widow, a traitor, a grieving mother, and wise, wise in the ways of the world. "You made him take her," she whispered. "Lysa was the price Jon Arryn had to pay for the swords and spears of House Tully."
Small wonder her sister's marriage had been so loveless. The Arryns were proud, and prickly of their honor. Lord Jon might wed Lysa to bind the Tullys to the cause of the rebellion, and in hopes of a son, but it would have been hard for him to love a woman who came to his bed soiled and unwilling.
Couple of things,
This is impressive. If only she didn't have a blind spot when it comes to Littlefinger.
I am so irritated that Lysa is being painted as a burden the old desperate man with the broken dick had to endure.
I don’t know how anyone can read the above and conclude Catelyn gave her virginity to Littlefinger.
Hoster Tully sucks.
+.+.+
Maester Vyman did not believe Lord Hoster would linger long enough for a raven to reach the Eyrie and return. Though he has said much the same before . . . Tully men did not surrender easily, no matter the odds.
The Blackfish can attest to that.
+.+.+
Catelyn went to the sept and lit a candle to the Father Above for her own father's sake, a second to the Crone, who had let the first raven into the world when she peered through the door of death, and a third to the Mother, for Lysa and all the children they had both lost.
What a bizarre detail.
+.+.+
Catelyn watched them from her father's balcony. She had washed her hair, changed her clothing, and prepared herself for her brother's reproaches . . . but even so, the waiting was hard.
Glad you're finally acknowledging that.
She was no stranger to waiting, after all. Her men had always made her wait. - Catelyn X, AGOT
+.+.+
"Stannis? What of Stannis?"
"He lost the battle at King's Landing," Edmure said unhappily. "His fleet was burned, his army routed."
A Lannister victory was ill tidings, but Catelyn could not share her brother's obvious dismay. She still had nightmares about the shadow she had seen slide across Renly's tent and the way the blood had come flowing out through the steel of his gorget. "Stannis was no more a friend than Lord Tywin."
It's incredibly telling that Catelyn Stark of all people can't decide which one is worse.
+.+.+
"Cersei will never give them up."
"Not Cersei. Tyrion. He swore it, in open court. And the Kingslayer swore it as well."
"Jaime's word is worthless. As for the Imp, it's said he took an axe in the head during the battle. He'll be dead before your Brienne reaches King's Landing, if she ever does."
"Dead?" Could the gods truly be so merciless? She had made Jaime swear a hundred oaths, but it was his brother's promise she had pinned her hopes on.
Catelyn is desperate, and losing it. Tyrion just got through sending false envoys to Riverrun under the disguise of a peace offer. They broke guest right, murdered Tully men, then attempted to free Jaime.
Tyrion has given Catelyn no reason to believe he’d honour that promise.
(He would, but that’s not the point.)
+.+.+
"Ravens to whom? How many?"
"Three," he said, "so the message will be certain to reach Lord Bolton. By river or road, the way from Riverrun to King's Landing must needs take them close by Harrenhal."
"Harrenhal." The very word seemed to darken the room. Horror thickened her voice as she said, "Edmure, do you know what you have done?"
Fantastic! We’ll give Jaime to Roose. Everything is great.
+.+.+
"Have no fear, I left your part out. I wrote that Jaime had escaped, and offered a thousand dragons for his recapture."
Worse and worse, Catelyn thought in despair. My brother is a fool. Unbidden, unwanted, tears filled her eyes. "If this was an escape," she said softly, "and not an exchange of hostages, why should the Lannisters give my daughters to Brienne?"
Catelyn, he’s trying to protect you. :(
+.+.+
"All you have made certain is that I shall never see my daughters again. Brienne might have gotten him to King's Landing safely . . . so long as no one was hunting for them. But now . . ." Catelyn could not go on. "Leave me, Edmure." She had no right to command him, here in the castle that would soon be his, yet her tone would brook no argument. "Leave me to Father and my grief, I have no more to say to you. Go. Go." All she wanted was to lie down, to close her eyes and sleep, and pray no dreams would come.
Oh I’m confident you’ll see one.
Final thoughts:
Everything that could go wrong is going wrong, and I feel like I’m in hell.
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ASOIAF Symposium - A Game of Thrones - Chapter 2 (Catelyn I)
In this chapter, Nav and Harmat discuss the talk Cat and Ned have in the Godswood. And what's with everyone in this series being named Jon and Rob?
A Game of Thrones, Catelyn I
“The letter had other tidings. The king is riding to Winterfell to seek you out.”
It took Ned a moment to comprehend her words, but when the understanding came, the darkness left his eyes. “Robert is coming here?” When she nodded, a smile broke across his face.
Catelyn wished she could share his joy. But she had heard the talk in the yards; a direwolf dead in the snow, a broken antler in its throat.
Dread coiled within her like a snake, but she forced herself to smile at this man she loved, this man who put no faith in signs.
“I knew that would please you,” she said.
A Game of Thrones, Catelyn I
In his youth, Ned had fostered at the Eyrie, and the childless Lord Arryn had become a second father to him and his fellow ward, Robert Baratheon.
When the Mad King Aerys II Targaryen had demanded their heads, the Lord of the Eyrie had raised his moon-and-falcon banners in revolt rather than give up those he had pledged to protect.
And one day fifteen years ago, this second father had become a brother as well, as he and Ned stood together in the sept at Riverrun to wed two sisters, the daughters of Lord Hoster Tully.
A Game of Thrones, Catelyn I
At the center of the grove an ancient weirwood brooded over a small pool where the waters were black and cool. “The heart tree,” Ned called it.
The weirwood’s bark was white as bone, its leaves dark red, like a thousand bloodstained hands.
A face had been carved in the trunk of the great tree, its features long and melancholy, the deep-cut eyes red with dried sap and strangely watchful.
They were old, those eyes; older than Winterfell itself. They had seen Brandon the Builder set the first stone, if the tales were true; they had watched the castle’s granite walls rise around them.
It was said that the children of the forest had carved the faces in the trees during the dawn centuries before the coming of the First Men across the narrow sea.
In the south the last weirwoods had been cut down or burned out a thousand years ago, except on the Isle of Faces where the green men kept their silent watch.
Up here was different. Here every castle had its godswood, and every godswood had its heart tree, and every heart tree its face.
Catelyn found her husband beneath the weirwood, seated on a moss-covered stone. The greatsword Ice was across his lap, and he was cleaning the blade in those waters black as night.
A thousand years of humus lay thick upon the godswood floor, swallowing the sound of her feet, but the red eyes of the weirwood seemed to follow her as she came.