It took twelve days for the other residents of Winterfell to finally force Catelyn from Bran's sickbed. Her handmaidens stripped her clothes from her body and washed her thoroughly, then placed a new, clean dress on her. They sat her down in her solar and served her a full meal, though she only nibbled at it. When she had had enough to eat, Young Ned came to see her.

"I would guess this was your doing?" Catelyn asked as he took a seat across from her.

"You had the mother's madness on you," Young Ned answered.

"Don't forget I am your mother, and I will not tolerate being spoken to thus," Catelyn warned.

Young Ned's ears turned pink, "My apologies Mother. Lord Rickard always said... It matters not. Mya is caring for Bran now."

"Mya? When did she return from Cerwyn?"

"Yesterday afternoon."

"Why was I not told?"

"Robb did try to tell you, but you were focused only on Bran."

"I understand," Catelyn nodded, feeling slightly chastened.

Young Ned rose from his seat and hugged her tightly; Catelyn returned the gesture. When he pulled away, Catelyn could plainly see that he was overwhelmed. "You wouldn't talk to us, or leave Bran's room. I was afraid. Edd and Torr always say I'm too soft, but I can't help it. I wanted to be a good lord, I just don't know if I can do it without you."

"I'm sorry, sweetling," Catelyn tugged at his cheek. The faintest line of hair had begun sprouting on his lip, but in many ways he was still so young and green. "I promise that you can depend on me from now on."

Young Ned looked down, his ears turning pink again. He muttered, "I don't want to have to depend on you. I do love you Mother, but I'm almost a man grown. I should be able to handle everything on my own. It's not your place."

"You won't be able to handle anything if you have that attitude," Catelyn scolded. "Do you think your father never relied on me to help him rule? I was the one who implored him to let you and brothers and sisters be fostered. Elsewise you would not have set foot in Karhold. He did not want to become Hand of the King, but I convinced him to accept King Robert's offer and betrothed Rena to Prince Joffrey."

Her son looked stunned to hear the truth. "Truly?"

Catelyn calmed down, "Do not underestimate what any woman is capable of. You are a boy still, I know you don't want to hear, but you are. Your lord father left me to guide and train you while he is in King's Landing. Do you think he erred in his judgement about my place?"

"I'm sorry, Mother," Young Ned said seriously, "I should not have insulted you."

"Your apology is accepted," Catelyn sighed, grateful that he understood. "I know you got those ideas from Lord Karstark. Our alliance with him has brought us much good, but you must not mistake his confidence for proof that he is right about everything. When you are older and wiser, you will be able to think for yourself. Until then, listen to no one above your father, myself, and your half-brothers."

"I understand," Young Ned swore.

During those twelve days Catelyn had spent attached to Bran's side, Young Ned had made new appointments for positions in the staff, as many of their servants had gone south with his father. He gave Catelyn the list, then asked her to look it over and give her opinion on his selections. His half-brothers had been helping him cover the duties of both the lord and the lady while Elle cared for Barth, but they were all young and inexperienced and needed Catelyn's help.

With the fog of grief slowly dissipating from her mind, Catelyn resumed her duties. Still, in the back of her mind, she worried constantly for Bran. In the evenings, before she retired, she would spent an hour or two sitting at his sickbed, holding Barth and singing to them both softly. She often wondered if Bran could hear her.

Maester Luwin said that even if he woke one day, he would never be able to walk. It broke her heart to hear that. Bran had wanted to be a knight someday, a hero like the ones in the songs. This news would crush his little spirit. Catelyn thought of what Bran could do with his life afterward. He could still be an adviser to his brother, or even to the next king if Rena could influence Joffrey to grant him a position on the Small Council. He could become a scholar or scribe, or write songs, or build castles and towns. Catelyn would be content with whatever he did, so long as he lived.

The walls of Winterfell felt strangely cold and empty with Ned gone. Catelyn accepted that as the price to keep their family safe, but she still longed to walk into his solar and find him hunched over one letter or another. There was no use writing to him now, for it would be weeks before the king's retinue reached King's Landing. She hoped all went well and that he and the girls were alright.

The days dragged on, and as Catelyn sat in Bran's room repairing an old dress, she heard a faint, "Mother?" coming from his bed. Her head shot up like an arrow and her hands froze.

"Bran? Are you awake?" Catelyn feared that she had just imagined it.

His unnamed wolf leapt up from the floor onto his bed, nuzzling his face. A shaky giggle emerged from her son's throat. Catelyn set her work aside and raced to his bedside. Sure enough, his eyes were wide open. "His name is Summer!" Bran said proudly.

Overcome with relief, Catelyn threw her arms around him and wept into his shoulder. Her son lived! Thank the old gods and new, her son lived! The fear and fatigue melted off her like snow in the summer sunshine. She could scarcely wait to tell Ned. The girls and Rickon would be so happy to know that their brother remained in the realm of the living. And Barth would grow up knowing his big brother.

"Mother! What happened? Why do I feel so..." Bran's face turned to confusion. "I can't feel my legs. Why are you crying? What happened?"

Catelyn regained control of herself, and hastily wiped her tears with her sleeve. "What do you last remember?"

"I was...um."

"Climbing the broken tower?" Catelyn finished.

Bran flushed, knowing he had somehow been caught. "I know you told me not to, but we were going to leave Winterfell forever, and I'd never get to do it again. You don't know how beautiful the castle is from that high. I had to see it one last time."

Indeed, that would be the last time he climbed anything, Catelyn thought sadly. "Do you remember the man and woman you saw inside the tower?"

He became more confused, "I don't remember seeing anyone. I was climbing, then it felt like I was in a dream, and then I woke up, just now."

"Perhaps the fall scrambled your wits."

"Fall?" Bran's face turned pure white. The wolf, Summer, rested his head on Bran's lap. "I never fall."

"You were pushed. When you were climbing, you saw a man and woman...doing something they shouldn't have and the man pushed you out of the tower. He confessed to what he had done, then died of an illness."

Bran looked down at his lower half, which was covered in thick furs, in horror. "Is...is that why I can't feel my legs? They're broken?"

Catelyn stroked his long, auburn hair, so much like her own, "I'm so sorry, sweetling."

"But they'll heal, won't they? Maester Luwin can heal anything."

"But he can't heal this, I'm afraid. Maester Luwin said you'll never walk again."

Tears came streaming down her son's face like swollen rivers as sobs shook his frail, emaciated body. Catelyn held him tightly in her arms until he tired himself out.

The family tried to adjust to Bran's changing circumstances as best they could. The fall had not only broken his body, but his heart as well. Once, Bran had dreamed of becoming a knight of the Kingsguard, or competing in tourney and having songs written of his valor, but these dreams had withered with his broken legs. He lay confined to his tower chamber. Summer and Old Nan kept him company most of the time, but his family members took turns sitting with him before bedtime.

Catelyn tried to help Bran find a new passion, something to occupy his mind. She suggested that he read books on architecture and history, or learn to write poetry and music, or study the Seven-Pointed Star with her. But no matter what she offered, Bran had no interest. When she exhausted her options, Catelyn decided it might be best to leave him alone for now, and let him decide when he was ready to find a purpose in life. Yet still it pained her to watch her little boy laying in bed listless and depressed.

Some good news came to them soon after Bran's awakening: Mya announced that she was with child. Catelyn was on the whole happy for her stepson and his wife, though Mya's pregnancy pricked that old fear in the back of her mind of her trueborn children losing Winterfell. She stamped it down and congratulated them both heartily. Mya and Jon loved her family, and she trusted them to raise their children to be loyal subjects of House Stark.

A few days after Mya told the news, she asked to speak to Catelyn in private. They met in Catelyn's solar in the later afternoon, shortly before the family was to convene in the great hall for supper.

"Are you unwell Mya?" Catelyn asked with genuine concern. "I have been through this trial enough times to be of help to you."

"I am well at the moment, Lady Catelyn, thank you" Mya replied. "I've already spoken of this with Jon, but I wish for your input. When our child is born, must it bear the name Snow? Jon and I are bastards, but our child will be trueborn. The names Stark and Baratheon are beyond us, but might we call it something else?"

Catelyn took a moment to think over Mya's words. "What does Jon think?"

"He hates the thought of his child bearing a bastard name, as do I," Mya stated.

"You could alter the name Snow," Catelyn suggested. "There is a house in the Reach called Oldflowers; they are descended from the bastard son of one of the Gardner kings. My lord husband plans to grant lands in the Gift to both his son and mine in the near future. When the decree comes, you can all change your names to whatever you find more suitable."

Mya beamed, "Jon will be so happy to hear that."

"About the names, certainly, but do you think he'll be happy in the Gift? Or you, for that matter?" Catelyn wondered. "It's further north than even the Last Hearth."

"It will be difficult to leave Winterfell, but we'll manage. It's more than most bastards in our position would get," Mya replied.

The weeks went on. Young Ned diligently attended lessons and heeded his mother's instructions, while his half-brothers completed what tasks he could not. Rickon wrote to her from Seagard, to let her know that he was safe and well, and how little he liked the crown prince. Barth had begun to walk, sometimes clutching the Beast's fur as he moved around the nursery. Catelyn wished Ned and the girls were present to see him. He had the Stark eyes, but otherwise his face resembled his cousin Sweetrobin's. His hair was red-brown, darker than his mother's auburn, and impossibly soft and thick.

Tyrion Lannister returned from the Wall more than a moon's turn after he had split from the royal party. He looked pale and tired after his difficult journey north and the weeks he had spent among the Night's Watch, but Lannister seemed more than satisfied with his adventure. Lannister had come with a black brother named Yoren, who was tasked with finding new recruits for the Watch. Young Ned greeted them with bread and salt, gave Yoren leave to search the dungeons for new brothers, and let them eat at his table as honored guests. Catelyn did not trust Lannister, especially not after reading Lysa's note, but she did not wish to arouse his suspicions, so she played the part of a gracious, generous hostess.

One evening, while Lannister supped with Catelyn in the privacy of her solar, he remarked, "If I may speak freely, my lady, you are quite a curiosity in the south."

Catelyn's cheeks flushed, for she knew exactly what he was referring to. Even after all these years, her pride had not fully recovered from sting for being thought a whore. "Are you certain this is a topic worth discussing at the table?" she replied in a low, warning tone.

Lannister couldn't help himself, "Why, it's not as though it's a secret? I beg you to satisfy my curiosity: how do you and your husband tolerate each other when you've both brought children into your marriage?"

"The particulars of my marriage are none of your concern!"

"No, but they are of interest to me. My sister came to Robert's bed as pure as the Maiden herself, but I'm amazed they haven't killed each other yet. You and Lord Stark, though...I'd wager he even loves you."

"You are dangerously close to being rude, my lord," Catelyn said coldly.

"I'm paying you a compliment!" Lannister feigned innocence. "It's quite remarkable how well you've done for yourself. When Robert got that Florent girl with child at his brother's wedding, her parents married her off to a household knight as soon as she gave birth. You, on the other hand, are the Lady of Winterfell, one the grandest castles in the realm, and your son will inherit it after his father."

"My lord husband is forgiving and understanding," Catelyn stated, wanting nothing more than for this conversation to end.

Lannister nodded, "I would say the same of Robert, but those qualities don't apply to my sister. I think he'd go mad with rage if she brought him another man's son to raise."

"Robb is not just another man's son," Catelyn shot back. "He's my husband's nephew, the only child of his late brother."

"Yes, and he would have been Lord of Winterfell instead of Lord Eddard, had you married Brandon. That must eat at them both."

"You know nothing of my husband or son," Catelyn snarled, though she began to feel a cold sweat on her neck. "Ned values family above all, and whatever else he may be, Robb is part of this family."

"And you feel the same toward your husband's bastard." Lannister observed. "I heard a rumor once that Robert got twins on a serving maid at Casterly Rock, and in response Cersei killed the children and sold the mother into slavery. It's only a rumor, of course, but it doesn't sound unlike my sister. When I was a boy, the Lady of Farman sold her husband's bastard daughter to a brothel after he died. When I visited Ashemark last spring, one of Lord Marbrand's crusty old aunts bragged that many years ago she got her husband's bastard son sent to Night's Watch by accusing him of stealing from her."

"What is the purpose of these stories?"

"To demonstrate why I can't understand the fact that you actually like Jon Snow. You come to the marriage soiled by his own brother, Lord Eddard shuns your bed in favor of another woman, you both humiliate each other with your bastards, yet somehow your whole house gets along. It's like Blackwoods and Brackens suddenly becoming the closest of friends. Until I came to Winterfell, I was certain you and your husband hated each other."

"As I have expressed before, I have no interest in sharing the details of my marital life with you, so this line of questioning can go no further."

"You Starks are such a strange bunch," Lannister shook his head.

Catelyn pretended not to be pleased when he called her a Stark, for she was still angry with him.

On his last day in Winterfell, before he continued traveling to King's Landing with Yoren, Lannister asked to see them all near the stables. Catelyn obliged him, wondering what he had to say to them. She carried Little Barth in her arms; Young Ned, Robb, Jon, Elle, and Mya walked behind her; Hodor walked behind them with Bran in his arms. Theon Greyjoy had neglected to come. One of the grooms brought out Dancer, the gentlest pony in the stable. She wore an odd saddle on her back, the likes of which Catelyn could not recall ever seeing before.

"I had this saddle made for your son Bran, my lady. It will let him ride a horse without need of his legs," he explained. "My own are too short to ride a horse in the normal manner, so I had to fashion a saddle that would let me stay on and control the horse in other ways."

His generosity surprised Catelyn so much, she forgot her manners for a moment. "Truly? It will allow him to ride a horse?"

"The only way to be certain is to have him try it," Lannister replied.

Two grooms helped Bran into the saddle. After taking several moments to grow accustomed to the strange saddle and with some instruction from Lannister, Bran urged the horse forward. A smile broke out on his face when Dance obeyed. He took several turns around the yard, laughing for the first time in many weeks as his brothers and goodsisters cheered him on.

A tear fell down Catelyn's cheek as her son came back to life. "I owe you a debt of gratitude, Lord Tyrion."

"I confess, I have a fondness for cripples, bastards, and broken things" Tyrion looked at her carefully. "He'll never be a whole man, no more than I, but he has you all. Half my family can hardly stand the sight of me. If you love him now as you did before he was crippled, I will consider the debt paid."

Catelyn finally received Ned's first letter from Maester Luwin and opened it with excited hands. He and their daughters had reached the city safely, but not without incident. Moonmaid, Lady, and Nymeria had been left behind before they entered the gates because the queen and the crown prince hated them so much. The girls and their friends were all furious, but it was all they could do to stop the queen from outright killing their wolves.

Despite the unfortunate turn of their journey, Catelyn felt warmer reading Ned's words. She smiled as she imagined him sitting at some overly ornate desk in the Tower of the Hand, wearing his plain nightshirt and breeches, hair loose around his shoulders, as he penned this message. When she had read the letter twice, she began to write her response. She wrote to him of Bran's awakening and Tyrion's gift, how Young Ned handled acting as Lord of Winterfell in his father's stead, and that Jon was soon to be a father. She mentioned Tyrion Lannister's gift to Bran and how happy he was to be able to ride his pony. As asked by Mya, Catelyn asked her husband about his plans to give lands in the Gift to Jon and Robb, and to change their names.

Catelyn had silently deliberated on whether it was wise to raise their bastard sons in station. Daeron the Good had granted lands to his half-brother Daemon Blackfyre, and was rewarded with treachery, strife, and war. But, she reminded herself, there were many factors leading to the Blackfyre besides Daemon's bastardy. His desire for his half-sister Daenerys, the rivalry between Bloodraven and Bittersteel, the rumors swirling around Queen Naerys and Aemon the Dragonknight, the rampant corruption that festered under the reign of Aegon the Unworthy, the many lords who hated how Daeron had welcomed Dorne into the fold. The North was much calmer and more stable than the realm had been all those years ago.

There would not be enough time for Robb and Jon to claim their new lands before winter came. Farmers had begun to notice the first signs of autumn, and everyone would need to prepare for the final harvest and the beginning of winter. They would spend the winter here, in Winterfell, and this was where Jon's child would spend the first several several years of its life. Perhaps Barth would be good friend to his nephew or niece, close to a big brother.

Ned's reply came several weeks later, and it was longer than Catelyn had expected. Once the Gift was properly settled, it's new lords would be sworn to Winterfell, but pay taxes to the Night's Watch. Lord Commander Mormont approved of the arrangement, for the Watch was desperately low on coin and supplies, but the plan to increase settlement came with some unexpected complications.

First, King Robert wished to host a tourney in Ned's honor despite the crown's heavy debts. He had suggested giving castles to the winners of tourney, melee, and archery contest, which Ned and Catelyn both found absurd. The new Gift lords were meant to guard the North from wildlings, as the Marcher lords guarded the Reach and Stormlands from Dorne. They could not give away valuable land as a prize in a competition! Ned refused outright, but could not keep the rumors spreading. Every landless man in the Seven Kingdoms who could hold a lance, sword, or bow raced to the capital.

Second, when the queen learned of this, she implored Ned to grant some land to one of her cousins. Lannister greed knows no bounds, Catelyn thought with disgust. It wasn't enough that they were the wealthiest house in the kingdom, or that Cersei's son would one day sit on the Iron Throne. Ned wrote that he refused her also, leading to a huge argument between her and the king.

Third, many knights and lordlings had begun swirling around Rena's ladies, including Sansa and Arya despite how young they were. With news of land in the North supposedly available to them, they had gotten it into their heads that Ned brought all these girls south as potential brides for those he chose to be Gift lords. Many had even taken to calling them the Winter Pearls, fine jewels ripe for the taking. Wynafryd in particular had to fend off many insistent suitors, for she was second in line to inherit White Harbor after her father.

Ned had planned to give the land to second and third sons from Northern houses, along with their bastard sons. They could handle the harsh conditions and their loyalty to Winterfell was not in doubt. Breakstone Hall in the mountains would be reserved for Robb, while Queenscrown near the Kingsroad would be reserved for Jon. Moreover, Ned did not think his bannerman would appreciate an influx of southron men into their part of the kingdom. He wanted her input as to how to approach the problem.

He finished by saying that he was excited to become a grandfather and sent Jon and Mya his love. She noticed that he wrote nothing about Jon Arryn or his death, but she hadn't expected him to. Such information was so precious to trust to a bird. After Catelyn finished the letter and read it a second time, she went to bed, intending to talk it over with the rest of the family the next morning while they all broke their fast in the great hall.

"Uncle Ned never promised anyone land," Robb scowled. "If they think he has, that's their mistake, not his problem."

"I think it matters less what he said, and more what they think he said," Elle disagreed.

Catelyn noted, "If he doesn't give out any land, they'll think he broke a promise."

"Who cares what a bunch of pompous lordlings think?" Young Ned scoffed.

"They're important subjects of the realm," Elle said, "Lord Ned is the second most powerful man in the kingdom, but the courtiers can make his job very difficult if he displeases them too greatly."

"But what can he do?" Mya asked. "Surely he can't just give away land to anyone who wants some?"

"I'm surprised so many are even interested. The Gift is tough land," Young Ned said.

"Land is land," Catelyn told him, "Especially for men who've never had it."

"He could just give a piece of land to a single person at the tourney," Jon suggested. "Instead of thinking he lied or tricked them, they'll think the singers and gossipmongers exaggerated. Which is true."

"Perhaps, but how would he decide who to give it to?" Catelyn asked. "Relying on a competition will not be feasible. A man may be skilled at arms, but that alone does not make a wise and loyal bannerman."

They all thought for a moment, then Bran piped up, "Father can have Rena pick someone from the tourney to become a Gift lord. She's very smart and I'm sure she'd pick someone good."

That gave Catelyn an idea. "He can announce that the land will go to whoever Rena declares her favorite, though it will actually be someone he himself felt was worthy. She's already betrothed, so that will avoid the awkwardness of someone expecting an offer of her hand."

"Rena will be a mouthpiece, then? It could work," Robb considered.

"If this works as you say, do you think that will stop men from pursuing the girls?" Mya asked.

"Doubtful, but they may get the message that the girls were not brought to King's Landing just for them." Catelyn noted. "And it's not such a bad thing that men are interested in them. If their fathers approve, they might make good matches in the south."

"Somehow I can't imagine the Foxkiller as a southron lady," Jon joked.