Seven Hells For Catelyn Tully | T| FFN
Vulgar Language.
Summary: "Those who follow the Gods are never forsaken, no matter how black of heart they may be. Catelyn Tully finally sees her prayers answered, for there is no Jon Snow in Winterfell's halls. The prayer and its answer are just as bitter. " [Not a Bash story]
Roast me I am ready to kill my darlings
800 words, Gods of the Citadel forgive me.
She could no longer feel the waters of the river.
She could no longer feel anything and though there should have been terror, pain, and screams, all that Catelyn Stark could see was darkness.
And then there was darkness no more.
She stood in the courtyard of Winterfell's first keep. Beside her was maester Luwin and the servants that tended to Robb. Her boy, her wolf pup was in her arms, eyes closed and sleep-ridden.
Though she felt happy that she was here again, Catelyn was confused. Last she remembered she was at the Twins, being betrayed by her father's bannerman, and now her lord husband would ride through that gate to tell her he brought a bastard home.
The man that rode through the courtyard under the noble banners of House Stark, flanked by the men she briefly met when she was wed, did not wear Ned Stark's face.
It was Jon Snow.
He wore the grey and the furs, he looked battle-weary and tired. There was red on his tunic in so many places that she could barely count his wounds. Before she could even speak, Jon Snow's finger singled her out of the crowd that knelt. And as blood began to seep from his body, his mouth, and his eyes, Jon Snow spoke. "Seven hells for you, Catelyn Tully. Seven hells could not warm your cold dead heart."
"Jon Snow." She said, out of fright or anger she did not know.
"You are blind. A creature of jealousy and venomous hate. How petty it must be inside that head of yours."
"Who are you?" She demanded.
Jon snow, bleeding unending rivers while Robb cried in her arms, kept his finger pointed between her eyes.
"Death."
"Lady Stark?" The call for her name woke her, and the terror that followed was unlike anything she ever felt before. It was a dream, all a dream.
"Yes?" She called back, leaving her bed and clearing her throat.
"It's almost time, my lady. Everyone is waiting."
Once again she was confused. How much of what she remembered was a dream? How much of it was the truth? Had she died, or merely dreamt it? Abandoning the room, she followed the Stark guard through the keep, soon finding herself walking beside lords, servants, knights, and children towards the Godswood.
She arrived to men holding torches and standing around Jon Snow, her son Robb, and her daughter Sansa. The moment her eyes met her daughter's, she saw the bastard drape a cloak around her shoulders and claim her as his.
She felt frozen as she watched Robb give his sister away to the last person that could deserve her. Her sweet, beautiful Sansa deserved more than her father's bastard. As Robb embraced his half-brother, the bastard whispered in his ear before plunging a dagger through his heart.
Catelyn was held, by men or an invisible force from reaching the Godswood. But as Robb's body dropped to the ground, eyes wide open and terrified, Jon Snow kissed his bride and the lords of the North knelt before him.
"Lord Stark." Maester Luwin called, and the bastard had the audacity to respond, hand still wet with his brother's blood. "Lady Catelyn is here."
The bastard smiled at her, blood beginning to seep from his tunic, his eyes, his ears, and his mouth, just like the last time, just like the nightmare.
"Lady Tully." Said the thing that was Jon Snow. It took her hand in its blood-drenched ones, and smiled kindly, "We are family now. Seven hells could not undo your sins. Seven hells could not erase your worst fears."
"You are a curse." She accused, choked by grief and sadness.
"I am your curse, my lady." it said kindly, "I am the curse you chose."
She woke again, and again and again. Every time she woke, it was a different nightmare, and it happened far too long, far too often for her to even remember the first. It had happened long enough to see anyone go mad. One thing was always the same, Jon Snow was the horror that struck at her family, the same monster that always tore them apart. It was all-
"My fault?"
As the nightmares all passed, this one remained and the knowledge her husband deemed his secret alone came with a lifetime of regret.
"Regret is eternal." Said Jon Snow, looking a young boy of ten name-days, yet holding the gaze of something ancient in his eyes. "Would you change the past if you could?"
"I would."
"Your promises are empty, Catelyn Tully. You promised the Seven you hold so dear to love him like a mother if he lived through the night. You forsook your regret then, and you shall forsake it again. But it is eternal, Catelyn Tully, regret is as old as the gods, it never goes away."
"This time is different."
"Every time is different," Jon replied. "But men are always the same. Seven hells, Catelyn Tully, seven hells for you to grieve, to understand your regret."
"How many have I seen?" She asked.
Jon Snow smiled at her, lips dry and tunic clean of blood. The thing smiled and it scared her.
"Less than you deserve, my lady."