Eddard ("Ned") Stark, MBE (winterishere) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-05-16 13:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, catelyn stark, eddard stark |
Who: Catelyn & Ned Stark
What: Those bloody dreams again!
When: Tuesday night
Where: Stark home/Laguna Beach
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete
Swords clashed and rang against his ears. Horses shrieked and fallen soldiers screamed as hooves and metal shredded through the battlefield. Ice was heavy in his hands but it was his sword - it was a Stark sword - and he wielded it well despite his relative inexperience with it.
It had always been meant for Brandon. This war being fought in Brandon and his father's names. And yet Ned knew in his racing heart that they would not want so much bloodshed and turmoil.
Aerys Targaryen was the one to blame. Not the Starks, not the Baratheons, not the Arryns - absolving himself of the guilt of war made it easier for him to wield Ice and cut through everyone standing between him and King's Landing.
"Promise me, Ned."
He had lost a girl in his life only to be replaced with another. Catelyn Tully was also meant for Brandon. A pretty southron girl he had felt awkward around when they first met, when they got married, when he laid in bed with her and spent more time talking than having sex. It was duty that brought them together and it was duty that sent him back into the front lines of the war.
After all of this was over he would return to Winterfell, and Catelyn Tully- Catelyn Stark, with him. She knew not the ways of the North and, having seen fires and blood ravage through the once colourful and vibrant South, he wondered if she could get used to all that grey and white.
"Winter is coming."
'Warden of the North', they called him when he returned to Winterfell. Battle weary, traumatised and scarred and now the Lord of Winterfell. Three more bodies buried down in the crypts and he knew that in time to come, he would be next. He and the little boy in Catelyn's arms.
The Lord of Winterfell lies in his furs at night and he dreams of swords singing in the rain and black ravens cawing into the night.
Ned Stark's fingers curled into the sheets and when he awakens from his pastiche of nightmares, sitting up in bed, staring into the darkness, panting and sweating with tears in his eyes, a very worried Catelyn Stark was looking back at him, asking him what was wrong, telling him it was just a dream.
She took his hand and it was only then he realised his hand was trembling.
He told her he would go downstairs to get a glass of water, but he bypasses the kitchen and goes straight to the guesthouse. It was cold. He had never felt cold in here before.
Winter is coming.
He sat down and the back of his head hit the wall as he caught his breath in the darkness.
When he could finally stand and flick the light on, he found himself rooted to the spot when his eyes settled on the sword from his dreams sitting on the coffee table.