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Catelyn has walked these grassy lands before, over damp moss and clearwater trickling over ground-vines spiraling in every direction. Blossoms of white gleam like snowfall. Feathery seedlings drift in the air, clinging to her lips and thinning auburn hair.

She's been everywhere, and nowhere at all, lingering in the tedium as if waiting for a beckon.

Ned reaches for her hand, his thumb grazing over Catelyn's knuckles.

He seats himself down on a boulder. They both wear robes of a thick colorless silk, draping like a opening V against their exposed backs. Pale gold, antiqued brooches pinned to their shoulders. A pair of direwolves on Ned, and for Catelyn, a Tully fish on her right and a direwolf weighing heavily on her left.

"Arya…"

"She saved the realm," Ned says, grim — and yet — he smiles so fondly up at her.

"I want to tell her I am proud of her," Catelyn whispers. "I want to tell them all I have missed them so…"

"Even to Jon?" Ned's dark eyes examine her, revealing no specific feeling as Catelyn's features tighten. But her fingers grip a little harder into his. "I loved that boy, Cat… I loved him with all my heart. Like he was my own."

"He was," she admits. "I understand why you kept it a secret. I did not love Jon Snow… but I tried to care for him in my own way."

"Thank you, Mother."

Catelyn turns around at the sight of Robb, dressed in the same white silk, his shoulders plated with direwolves. He rushes forward as she does, chuckling tearfully and hugging her so tight. Catelyn's bare fingers run and quiver through his auburn curls. Rickon, grown, wearing the same, jumps into Ned's arms, hiding his face against his father's chest as he sobs.

Greywind pushes his snout to the back of Robb's legs. Summer and Shaggydog whine for attention, pawing Ned and Rickon. Ned holds out his hand for Lady to daintily snuffle. "I am sorry, my girl," he murmurs, as she licks Ned's fingers. As if forgiving him.

"It's time, isn't it?" Robb says, eyeing his mother touching his cheek and then Rickon's own cheek adoringly.

"Yes, I think so."

Rickon frowns, gazing worriedly behind him. "But… aren't we going to wait for…?"

"They'll come home to us when the time is right," Ned tells him, regrasping his wife's hand, leading them on.

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GoT isn't mine. Requested by Ellena Weasley (FFN): "Ned and Catelyn reflecting about how far their children have come." ACTUAL TEARS ABOUT NED AND LADY. OHHHHH MY GOD. I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED.