Chapter Text
Jon
Jon could only watch chaos in front of him, blurred visions and deafening screams flood his vision and ears. Everywhere Jon looked there were blurry shapes that went from one place to the other.
The only thing Jon could distinguish was a large hall and flags of a trout jumping between two blue towers joined by a bridge. Longclaw whistled in the air cutting enemies, flesh and blood splattered on his face, while Jon made his way through the great hall, out of the corner of his eye. Jon watched a huge white beast jump from table to table, cutting throats.
Jon killed a chubby man who approached him. Jon maneuvered and cut the man's throat by slitting his throat instantly.
The only thing Jon could do was make his way through the shadows with swords and axes and keep breaking through. Behind him came a person whom Jon was escorting. Jon observed Smalljon being stabbed multiple times as he tried to protect a person that Jon couldn't distinguish.
As he moved forward, Jon watched Dacey Mormont being opened from the belly by an axe and then her guts fell to the ground along with the lifeless woman. Everywhere he looked, there was death.
The most horrible thing was when Jon looked towards the center of the room, there, his brother Robb being stabbed by a man. Jon wanted to run to his brother, but a hand stopped him; everything was chaos that reminded Jon of the battle in the fist of the first men.
Seeing that Jon was surrounded, the only thing that came to his mind was to run to the opposite side, where there was a large window, so that was what they did. Jon along with Ghost, ran to the window without knowing where they would fall; that was their only salvation.
When the three jumped out of the large window and fell into the darkness, Jon woke up suddenly.
Jon woke up with a scream, and his hand abruptly went to Longclaw, unsheathing her in the middle of his tent. That had been a dream, a terrible and dreadful dream, that had felt so real.
The day had arrived, and within a few hours it would be dawn. Jon sheathed back to Longclaw and rose in the darkness. Sweat ran down his body and that was something Jon hated about southern weather.
Was totally opposite to the freezing temperatures beyond the wall. Jon washed his face and wiped the sweat from his body with a cloth, so that by the time he finished the sun was starting to rise.
Gradually the camp began to come alive, and soon they would be ready to march; so, in the afternoon they would arrive at the Twins for the wedding of Edmure Tully. Throughout the morning, Jon was mindful of that nightmare.
When Jon returned with Ghost after walking, he found the tents up and ready to go. Seeing Maege Mormont's daughter, Jon's stomach turned as he remembered how Lady Dacey had died in his dream.
"You look terrible," Robb said.
Jon turned to his brother, and the memory of Robb being stabbed came to mind. "I didn't get a good dream," Jon replied.
"We are two, I've had strange dreams lately," Robb said. "Would you like to ride with me?"
"Of course."
Jon accompanied his brother to the horses, where they met Lady Catelyn. "Good morning, my Lady," Jon greeted Catelyn.
The beautiful woman glanced at him briefly. "Good morning, Jon," replied Catelyn, politely.
It had been easy for her to act like she did all her life, being indifferent to Jon. Otherwise with him, mainly because Ghost always gave him away.
The huge direwolf wagged his tail, happy to see Catelyn, and he approached her, wanting to be petted. "Good morning to you too, Ghost," greeted Catelyn, as she stroked Ghost's fur.
Robb watched closely the interaction between his mother and Jon's direwolf. Jon wishing that his brother wouldn't tie up guesses about why Ghost was so affectionate with his mother.
Jon and his brother rode silently for a short time; there was no doubt that Jon had threw a low blow at his brother, when Jon said that Robb had preferred to continue playing at being king than to exchange the Kingslayer for Sansa.
"You were right," Robb said, suddenly, when Jon and he were far enough away so that no one could hear them.
"On what?" asked Jon.
"About the girls," Robb replied. Jon noted how difficult those words were for his brother to pronounce. "I should have traded the Kingslayer for Sansa when I had the chance, and I shouldn't have trusted Theon either."
"You don't need to blame yourself, Robb, you didn't know what would happen," Jon said, it hurt him to see his brother in that state; now the Robb who laughed and was always with a big smile on his face was gone. Now there was a man turned king, a king who had lost his kingdom.
"We should never have left our home," Robb said.
"We should never have left Winterfell, if I could go back, I would never have joined the Night's Watch in the first place," Jon said.
Both were silent for a few minutes; there was much to say, but neither knew where to start. "I'm glad the tensions between you and my mother have eased," Robb suddenly said, taking Jon by surprise.
"I don't think there's any change in how your mother sees me," Jon lied.
Robb laughed lightly. "I think you're right, but she still doesn't see you with hatred like in the past, even Ghost likes her," Robb continued. "I think father would be happy about it."
Jon couldn't help but feel guilty. "Our father would not like to know that his bastard has been fucking his wife every night's," Jon thought.
"I love my wife Jeyne, but I can't help but feel guilty for having broken my promise with Lord Frey, everything started to deteriorate when I marry with her," Robb confessed, and Jon realized that was something his brother had stuck inside his being. "If I could go back to the past ... I certainly wouldn't have fallen on my weakness."
"You did what you thought was right, you didn't dishonor her by leaving her with a bastard," Jon said, trying to lighten his brother's load.
Robb didn't answer at first; he just looked forward, lost in his thoughts. "Aye, you're right," Robb said. "You know Jon, I'm glad you're here, brother."
Robb looked at him with a smile, and Jon remembered how his brother in his dream was stabbed, Jon pushed away that terrible dream from his head. "I'm glad to be here too, after the wedding we will get our home back."
Jon and the northern army rode for the rest of the day to the twins; the closer they got to their destination; they could see more clearly the two great towers of the house Frey. And the memory of Jon's nightmare was more lingering in his mind.
When they finally arrived at the Frey castle, they were received by Lord Frey's eldest sons, and a huge storm had fallen upon them. It had been difficult to control Greywind, who had wanted to attack all the sons of Lord Frey, to the point that they had to lock up the poor wolf.
"The white wolf also goes to the cages", Edwyn Frey had ordered. Jon had taken that badly. Ghost was not an animal that should remain locked up.
"Ghost won't hurt anyone, you have my word," Jon had growled.
"It's an order from my father"
"I am the king's brother, your father does not command me," Jon had remarked, clearly annoyed.
Jon had wanted to tell his brother that he was king, and should not let the Frey’s tell him what to do with Greywind.
Jon prepared himself for Catelyn's brother's wedding, until the door opened. It was Catelyn who looked worried.
"Is something wrong, Cat?" asked Jon, approaching her and taking his lover between his arms.
The beautiful woman let out a tired sigh; clearly, she was stressed about her brother's wedding. "Do you think everything will be okay tonight?" Catelyn asked, as she hugged Jon.
Jon stroked Catelyn's back and kissed her forehead. "I don't know," Jon confessed, hugging Cat tighter. "I don't like how they forced Robb to leave his guards behind, and that just a few of us were allowed to be armed with weapons., or that they forced him to leave Greywind in the kennel.
Catelyn nodded against Jon's chest. "I don't like that either."
The only reason they had allowed Jon to have Ghost was because he had listed him as a protector of Robb; every king had to have his guard of kings wherever he went...
Catelyn
The drums were pounding, pounding, pounding, and Catelyn's head was pounding with them. Pipes wailed and flutes trilled from the musicians’ gallery at the foot of the hall; fiddles screeched, horns blew, the skins skirled a lively tune; but the drumming drove them all. The sounds echoed off the rafters, whilst the guests ate, drank, and shouted at one another below.
Catelyn watched Jon, who was behind Robb, and Ghost was behind her; it had been difficult to get Lord Frey to accept Jon's direwolf as Robb's guard, but in the end he had reluctantly accepted.
"If Walder Frey thinks this is music, he must be deaf stone to call this music.," thought Catelyn, sipping a sip of wine, and saw Jinglebell prance to the rhythm of "Alysanne." Or what she thought it was meant to be "Alysanne." With those musicians, the same could be "The Bear and the Maiden."
Outside a heavy storm fell that seemed to have no end, but inside the Twin’s the atmosphere was thick and hot. A fire roared in the fireplace, and rows of torches burned smokily from iron sconces in the walls rows and rows of torches burned smoking in their iron appliques. Yet most of the heat came from the bodies of the wedding guests, so cramped into the pews that when you tried to raise your glass, you elbowed your neighbor in the ribs.
Even on the dais they were closer than Catelyn's would have like. She had been placed between Ser Ryman Frey and Roose Bolton. Ser Ryman drank as if Westeros was about to run short of wine, and sweated it all out under his arms. By his smell he had bathed in lemon water, she judged, but there was no lemon water that could mask so much sour sweat smell. Roose Bolton' had a sweeter smell to him, yet not more pleasant. He sipped hippocras in preference to wine or mead, and he ate but little.
Jon remained stoic behind Robb looking around looking for any threat that could put in risk his king, Ghost was behind Catelyn likewise looking for any danger, the Frey men looked at Jon from time to time, the news that Jon possessed a Valyrian steel sword had reached the ears of Lord Frey, who had looked with desire at Jon's sword.
"Who knew now that Edmure was complaining about Roslin all the way from Riverrun to The Twins," thought Catelyn, drinking from her wine. Husband and wife ate from the same plate, drank from the same cup, and exchanged chaste kisses between sips. Edmure rejected most of the dishes. Catelyn could not blame him for that. She barely had any memory of the food served at her wedding banquet. "Did I even get to try it?"
Catelyn could not wait any more for the ceremony to end before taking Jon to his bed. “At the wedding feast, I hope you will not refuse to dance with my daughters,” Walder Frey had said. “It would please an old man’s heart.”
His heart should be well pleased, then; Robb had done his duty like a king. He had danced with all the girls, with Edmere's bride and the eighth Lady Frey, with the widow Ami, and with Roose Bolton's wife, Fat Walda, with the pimply twins named Serra and Sarra, even with Shirei, the youngest of Lord Walder's progeny, who would have been about six years old. Catelyn wondered if the lord of the Crossing would be satisfied, or if he would find cause for protest to all the other daughters and granddaughters who had not had a turn with the king.
Even the Frey women were giving flirtatious glances and blushing smiles at the sight of Jon, something that didn't like Catelyn. Luckily for her, Jon had ignored all women's glances and had only limited himself to protecting Robb.
Ser Ryman drank a swallow of wine, the sweat trickling down his cheek into his beard. “This man is bitter and has drunk too much," Catelyn thought. The Late Lord Frey was stingy when it came to feeding his guests, but he did not stint on the drink.
The ale, wine, and mead were flowing as fast as the river outside. The Greatjon was already roaring drunk. Lord Walder's son Merrett was matching him cup for cup; but Ser Whalen Frey had passed out trying to keep up with the two of them... Catelyn would have preferred a thousand times for Lord Umber to remain sober; but telling Greatjon not to drink was like telling him not to breathe for a few hours.
Smalljon Umber and Robin Flint were sat near Robb, on the other side of Walda, the Fair and Alyx, respectively. Neither of them had tasted a drink of ale or wine. They were, along with Patrek Mallister, Dacey Mormont and Jon; they were Robb's guards this evening.
That evening Catelyn heard Lady Bolton's talk and shared a few words with the Lord of the Dreadfort; but Roose Bolton spoke as little as he tasted food.
"Within a few hours the worst will be over." By this hour tomorrow Robb and Jon had left for another battle, this time against the Ironmen at Moat Cailin. Oddly, the prospect was almost a relief. "They will win the battle. Robb wins all battles, and the Ironborn are without king. Besides, Ned taught them well," Catelyn said to herself, as she swallowed of her wine.
The drums were beating. Jinglebell hopped past her once more, but the music was so loud that the bells could hardly be heard.
Above the din came a sudden snarling as two dogs fell upon each other over a scrap of meat. They rolled across the floor, snapping, and biting, as a howl of mirth went up. Someone doused them with a flagon of ale and they broke apart. One limped toward the dais. Lord Walder ’s toothless mouth opened in a bark of laughter as the dripping wet dog shook ale and hair all over three of his grandsons.
The sight of the dogs made Catelyn wish once more for Greywind, but Robb’s direwolf was nowhere to be seen... Lord Walder had flatly refused to allow her to be in the room. On the contrary with Ghost, who remained stoic behind her.
"I understand that these wild beasts have a taste for human flesh, heh, heh," the old man had said. "What do you want, that it tears our throats out? I’ll have no such creature at my Roslin’s feast, among women and children, in the midst of my beloved family."
"Greywind and Ghost are not a danger to them, my lord," Robb protested. As long as I and my brother are present..."
“You were there at my gates, were you not?? When did the gray wolf attacked the grandsons, I sent to greet you? I've heard everything, don't go believe, no, heh, he.
"No harm has been done. Ghost didn't hurt...
"And that white wolf, heh, that one won't come in either, he may look meek like his owner, but he won't come under my roof."
"Ghost is not Greywind, my lord, he is Lady Catelyn's guardian and wherever I go, he goes," Jon had said, authoritatively. The old man had turned red with anger when confronted by Jon.
Robb had reprimanded Jon for saying that in front of Lord Frey; but Jon didn't know Lord Frey, and he didn't know how petty he could be. "Heh, a wolf as guard, he will not pass I said. you may be king in the North, heh, heh, but under my roof I command."
Catelyn could tell that her son was furious, but once again Jon had added firewood to the fire. "Your grace is not only king in the north, he's also king of the riverlands, House Tully, house Mallister and among many others and that includes House Frey, as a guest right and your king, King Robb has the right to say he wants," Jon had pointed out.
At the end the old man had accepted Ghost's stay at the wedding. "If that beast, your grace, hurts one of my sons, I will charge you dearly," Walder Frey had threatened, looking at Jon with murderous eyes.
Roose Bolton murmured some words too soft to hear and went off in search of a privy. The crowded hall was a constant bustle of guests and servants coming and going. Catelyn knew that a second banquet for knights and lords of lower rank was being held in the other castle. Lord Walder had exiled his illegitimate sons and their descendants to that bank of the river; so, Robb's northerners had taken, referring to it as" the feast of the bastards."
No doubt some of the guests were sneaking away to see if the bastards were having a better time than there. Even some guests went to the camps. The Frey’s had provided wagons with barrels of wine, beer, and mead, so that the soldiers could toast the link between Riverrun and the Twins.
Robb sat down in Bolton’s vacant place. “A few more hours, and this farce is done. Mother,” he said in a low voice, as the Greatjon sang of the maid with honey in her hair. "Black Walder's been mild as a lamb for once. And Uncle Edmure seems well content in his bride.” He leaned across her. “Ser Ryman?”
"Tell me, your grace." Ser Ryman Frey blinked.
“I’d hoped to ask Olyvar to squire for me when we march north, but I haven't seen him here in the castle," Robb said. "Would he be at the other feast?”
"Olyvar?" asked Ser Ryman, shaking his head. "“No. Not Olyvar. Gone... gone from the castles. Duty.”
"I understand," Robb's tone indicated otherwise. Seeing that Ser Ryman gave no further explanation.
"Where's Jon?" asked Catelyn, seeing that Jon wasn't with Robb.
"I've told him to rest, he's been paranoid all this time," Robb said. "I had to tell him it was an order from his king, to get him away from my side."
Catelyn wanted to tell her son that he shouldn't have done that, but she was drunk enough to reproach him for that. "Do you care to dance, mother?" asked Robb.
“Thank you, but no", Catelyn said. A dance was the last thing she needed, the way her head was throbbing. “No doubt one of Lord Walder’s daughters would be pleased to partner you.
"Oh, no doubt", Robb said; he cracked a resigned smile and left. The musicians were playing the “Iron Lances”, while Greatjon was singing "The Lustful Boy". "Someone should introduce them, so it would improve harmony." Catelyn turned to Ser Ryman.
"Will Alesander be playing for us tonight?" asked Catelyn.
"No." Ser Ryman said sharply, squinting at her. "It's out." He wiped the sweat from his forehead and stood up. "“Pardons, my lady. Pardons." Catelyn stared as she staggered away towards the door.
Catelyn watched as Robb talked to Jon and pointed towards Catelyn. Jon reproached something, but in the end, he nodded and walked towards her. The servants came in with huge trays of pink and juicy pieces of lamb, the most appetizing dish that had been seen in the entire evening. And Robb started dancing with Dacey Mormont.
"Robb and Jon have Ned’s gift for inspiring loyalty. Olyvar Frey had been devoted to her son as well. Hadn’t Robb said that Olyvar wanted to remain with him even after he'd married Jeyne?”
Robb and Jon were brothers from the same father, but both were totally different as day and night, where Robb was charismatic, emotional and optimistic. Jon was the opposite. He was melancholy, reserved with other people, and distrustful. But there was something in which both were identical.
And that was when it came to winning people's trust, at first. Jon had been disowned by the northerners for leaving the Night's Watch. But after a few weeks of training and sharing food and beer, Jon had earned the trust of men.
"My Lady," Jon greeted, standing behind her.
"I saw my son told you to come and take care of me," Catelyn said. drinking of her wine.” He said I'm being paranoid. “Jon continued. Catelyn could feel him tense behind her.
Catelyn smiled into her cup of wine and a warmth began in her core. "After the ceremony, would you care to take me to my chambers, Jon? she asked, feeling naughty.
"Of course, my Lady," he replied.
"And one of your foot massages would be perfect for me, Jon, could you do that for me?" she requested, and Catelyn heard him cough.
"As you say, my lady", Jon said, his voice sounded like a growl.
The lord of the Crossing, seated betwixt the two black oak towers, clapped his spotted hands together. The sound was so faint that even those on stage had a hard time hearing it; but Ser Aenys and Ser Hosteen saw it and started banging glasses against the table. Lothar the Lame imitated them and then Marq Piper, Ser Danwell and Ser Raymund. Soon half of the guests were giving rhythmic beats, and at the end the crowd of musicians in the gallery caught the hint. The flutes, drums and violins fell silent.
"Your Highness," Lord Walder said to Robb. "The septon has already released the prayers, words have been spoken, and Lord Edmure has wrapped my little girl in his fish cloak; but they are not yet husband and wife. The sword needs a sheath, heh, heh, and a wedding needs a bed. What does your highness think? Is it meet that we should bed them?”
A score or more of Walder Frey's children and grandchildren began banging on the tables with their glasses again. "Let's put them in bed!" They shouted. "Let's put them in bed! Let's put them in bed!"
Roslin had gone white. Catelyn wondered if it was the prospect of losing her maidenhead that frightened the girl, or the bedriding itself. With so many siblings, sure, she was not like to be a stranger to the custom, but things changed when one was the protagonist. She remembered her night wedding, it seemed, so many years ago. She also prayed for her daughter and her own wedding with the gnome.
"Please Jaime, Brianne free my daughter from that monster", she thought.
Robb raised a hand. "If you think the time has come, of course, Lord Walder. Let's put them in bed."
A roar of approval greeted his pronouncement. Upstairs in the gallery, the musicians picked up the flutes, horns and violins again, and began to play “The Queen Took Off Her Sandal, the King Took Off His Crown.”
Ghost behind Catelyn began to growl silently. "What's going on, boy?" asked Jon.
"Let's put them in bed! Let's put them in bed!" they shouted again. The guests swirled around the dais, the drunkest, the first, as always. The men and boys surrounded Roslin and lifted her up as the maids and their mothers forced Edmure to his feet and began to pull his clothes.
Catelyn felt sorry for the girl. Most brides tried to respond to jokes, or at least pretend they were enjoying it, but Roslin was stiff with terror, clutching to Greatjon as if afraid he would drop her. "she's crying too” Catelyn realized.
Dacey Mormont, who was apparently the only woman left in the room apart from Catelyn, she approached Edwyn Frey and touched him lightly on the arm as she said something in his ear. Edwyn wrenched himself away from her with unseemly violence.
No,” he said, too loudly. “I’m done with dancing for the nonce.” Dacey paled and turned away.
Jon put his hand to the sword and Ghost's growls grew louder. "I don't like this," Jon growls. "Let's go, my Lady."
"What's going on here?" asked Catelyn, ignoring what Jon had said. Doubt weighed on her soul, where until a moment ago there were a party and laughs, now only felt emptiness. "It's nothing," she tried to tell herself. "You're seeing goblins in the forest; you've become an old idiot crazed with grief and fear."
But something must have been reflected in his face, because even Ser Wendel Manderly noticed it. "Is something amiss?" he asked, the lamb's leg in his hands.
"Robb!" she began calling her son, rising from her chair.
"Wendel, Ghost, protect Lady Catelyn," Jon ordered.
Jon ran after Edwyn Frey. The players in the gallery had finally gotten both king and queen down to their name-day suits. With scarcely a moments respite, they began to play a very different sort of song Nobody sang the song, but Catelyn instantly recognized "The rains of Castamere" Edwyn ran to the door and with few long steps Jon caught the man, she did not hear what Jon asked, but she saw how Jon grabbed Edwyn by the arm to force him to turn around, everything was so sudden, in a split-second Jon punched the man in the face sending him to the ground, Jon drew his sword and began to scream. "Robb!"
"Olyvar," she thought, and Perwyn, and Alesander, all out. And Roslin was crying..."
Robb gave Jon a furious look and moved forward to stop him... And he stopped suddenly when an arrow burst from his side, just below his shoulder. If Robb shouted at that moment, the sound was drowned out by flutes, horns, and violins.
Catelyn saw a second dart stick into her son's leg, and she watched him fall. Upstairs in the gallery, half of the musicians had crossbows in their hands instead of drums and lutes. He tried to run to her son. "Robb!" she shouted in horror. "Robb, Robb!"
Ghost jumped and pounced on the men Frey, Jon began killing any Frey and dodging arrows
Catelyn watched how Greatjon lifted the top of a table from the easels. In the wood the arrows were nailed, one, two, three, while he put it on his king to protect him. Robin Flint was surrounded by Frey men with daggers going up and down. Ser Wendel Manderly stood up with his lamb leg in his hand. An arrow entered through his open mouth and came out of the back of his neck. Ser Wendel collapsed forward, threw the table from the easels, and threw cups, jugs, plates, trays, turnips, beets, and wine on the floor.
Jon broke through killing and slit anyone's throat to get to Catelyn.
In a coat of gold or a coat of red A lion still has claws.
Catelyn ran until she felt someone take her abruptly; she turned to see that it was Jon, in front of her passed an arrow. Jon guided her all the way, and Catelyn watched as Jon killed Ser Hosteen Frey.
The crossbows took Donnel Locke, Owen Norrey, and half a dozen more. Young Ser Benfrey had seized Dacey Mormont by the arm; but Catelyn saw her grab up a flagon of wine with her other hand, and smash it full in his face, and run for the door. It flew open before she reached it. Ser Ryman Frey pushed into the hall, clad in steel from helm to heel. A dozen Frey men-at-arms packed the door behind him. They were armed with heavy long axes.
"Mercy!" shouted Catelyn, clinging to Jon, but her screams couldn't be heard because of the music. Ser Ryman buried the head of his axe in Dacey’s stomach.
Men were already entering through other doors; men with chain mail, dressed in furs and steel in their hands. "Northerners!" For a moment Catelyn thought they were coming to the rescue, until she saw one of them cut off Smalljon head with two axe blows. Hope went out like a candle in the middle of a storm. In the midst of the carnage, the Lord of the Crossing remained seated on his carved oak throne, his lips tense over his gums in a smile.
"Bring me that sword and the head of the white wolf!" ordered Walder.
Jon guided Catelyn behind a table to cover her. "We have to get to Robb," Jon said, his teeth gritted. She saw that Jon had an arrow stuck in his shoulder blade.
At that moment, the table board that Smalljon had thrown on Robb moved, and his son sat up on his knees. He had an arrow in his side, another in his leg, and a third in his chest.
Lord Walder raised a hand, and all music except a drum stopped instantly. Catelyn's ears came the distant din of battle, and the wild, nearer howl of a wolf. "Greywind" she remembered, too late.
"Heh, heh," sneered Lord Walder of Robb. "The King in the North rises. It seems that we have killed a few, of your men, Your Highness. But I will apologize to you and matter settled, heh, heh."
"Mother, Jon!" the dying voice sounded in the middle of the room. "Get her out of here... Jon... Get it out of here."
"Look, the king in the north still has the strength to talk," Walder scoffed. "You're stupid if you think we're going to let your fucking mother and that bastard get away."
"Cat," Jon muttered to Catelyn, pointing to a huge window overlooking the river.
"No, no," Catelyn began to murmur, knowing what was going to happen. "We have to go back for Robb, he still lives; we can't leave him; we can't abandon him.
"Jon!" Robb spoke again, with what little strength he had left.
Jon took a chair and threw it, t the arrows flew out and hit the chair, which gave them a moment to escape. "No, Robb! We have to go back for Robb!" cried Catelyn again, trying to get out of Jon's grip to go get her baby.
But it was in vain because in the end she was dragged away by Jon.
"Don't let them escape," Walder shouted.
Catelyn wanted to return for Robb, her son, her last child, but Jon did not allow it, her feet hurt and the large window was getting closer, Jon threw an object into the window and it cracked enough to go through it.
With one last look back, Catelyn watched her son as he was stabbed multiple times by Roose Bolton. If she screamed, Catelyn didn't know, because she, Jon, and Ghost were falling into the void.
The only thing Catelyn could hear was the wind against her ears, and the cold wind and rain against her skin. Catelyn felt her stomach rise up her throat as she fell. Everything seemed like hours, that they would never fall into the deep river, in front of her eyes Catelyn watched all her life, from when she came out of her late mother's womb until when she married her late husband, everything happened as if she were going through it for the first time, she essence that she was never going to fall into the water, but it happened.
She hit the cold water and Catelyn felt as if she had broken thousands of bones, she fell and fell deep into the water, everything was black, the water got into their lungs.
"It hurts so much, she thought. Our children, Ned, all our sweet babes. Rickon, Bran, Arya, Sansa, Robb... Robb... please, Ned, please, make it stop, make it stop hurting... "
Little by little the light was going out, her consciousness was fading, and when she thought, she was finally going to rest. A hand reached her and took it out of the water. When Catelyn went outside, she took a huge breath of air. She coughed and coughed, expelling the water from her lungs.
Jon pulled her to the shore, where Ghost was waiting for them, who was shaking the water off her fur. "Robb!" She said, crying. Catelyn threw herself into Jon's arms and they cried together.
They cried over the massacre they had just survived...