Lady Catelyn Stark
The coup that had taken place in Winterfell had left a very bitter taste in her mouth. Ryswell and Dustin were the ones leading the council alongside their allies, men and women that she would not forget when the time came. There had been no word from the south for weeks now, and she was beginning to grow worried. All she could really do was look after the accounts and the household and ensure her children were safe and cared for. In a way, the coup had done them some good, as she was now abler to spend time with her children than she had been before, and she was able to notice things that she might have otherwise missed.
She looks at her children now and asks them. "So what are you learning in your lessons?"
There is a moment of silence, then Arya speaks. "I'm learning about Nymeria and her invasion of Dorne, and how she made the place better, through removing some barbaric customs."
The one thing Catelyn has noticed since the girls came back from King's Landing, is how freer Arya has become, her instructor Syrio continues to teach her, and though Catelyn might not approve, if it means that her daughter is happy, who is she to deny her that right? That Septa Mordane no longer teaches her how to sew, that the Septa is no longer alive, perhaps also has a big part to do with that, and Catelyn regrets not noticing this sooner. She smiles at her daughter. "That is good, and what have you learned from these lessons?"
Her daughter thinks for a moment and then says. "That it is okay to break from the mould, and do something different and out there. I think Nymeria was a great woman and a great Princess."
Catelyn nods, and turns to her eldest daughter, Sansa had been quite reserved since coming back from King's Landing, a multitude of things had been happening to her, changing her, and Catelyn was not quite sure, how to approach them. "And what about you Sansa, what have you been learning?"
Her daughter was to be a Queen in the making, and now she is merely a lady of Winterfell once more, Catelyn can tell her daughter feels lost, but she does not open up anymore, and so she does not know how to get through. "I… I… I am learning about my namesake. The Lady Sansa Stark, who was married to Jonnel One Eye."
Catelyn leans in interested, she knows a little about the Starks of old, but not as much as she did once many years ago, and so she finds herself asking. "And what have you learned about the Lady Sansa?"
At this Sansa seems to go in on herself, her words are barely above a mumble. "I've learned that at first she did not want to marry her uncle, but eventually she came around to the idea, and though they had no children they were very happy." There is a wistful look on her daughter's face that makes Catelyn's heart break a little.
"Why would she marry her own uncle?" Arya asks, disgusted.
Catelyn goes to speak, but it is Sansa who replies. "Because they had two rivalling claims, as Sansa was the daughter of Jonnel's older brother Rickon, who died fighting alongside the Young Dragon in Dorne. They united to prevent there being war within the north."
"So he used her for her claim?" Arya asks sounding even more disgusted.
"It seems so at first yes, but they eventually came to love one another." Sansa replies, the wistful look on her face intensifying.
Before Catelyn can even respond, there is a knock on the door, and Ser Rodrik enters, looking red faced and angry. "The Bolton boy wants to speak with you my lady." Catelyn nods, kisses her children and then follows the knight, neither of them talking as they walk the shot distance to the solar where Balthasar Bolton has set up.
Bolton, second son of Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, and Bethany Bolton, is tall, pale of face, handsome on the eye, has short dark hair, and a rough stubble on his cheeks, his eyes are a milky green. "Ah, Lady Catelyn, thank you for coming." The man says, standing up and kissing her hand, before gesturing for her to take a seat. "I am sure you are wondering why I have asked to meet with you, and I apologise for interrupting your time with your children. But what I have to speak with you about could not wait."
"And what was this piece of urgent news?" Catelyn asks, her curiosity piqued.
Bolton is silent for a brief moment, something he has no doubt learned from his father. When he speaks, his words are softly spoken. "As I am sure you are aware, the alliance that staged the coup, is fragmenting. Ryswell and Dustin might be father and daughter, but they want different things. I have been required to play peace maker far too often. I do believe, that things are slowly getting worse, instead of better. The other houses supporting this alliance are minor, and the forces they promised in aid against the Ironborn have stalled."
"And what does this have to do with me?" Catelyn asks.
"Why, you are former ruling Lady of Winterfell, mother to our own Lord Stark. I am not a fool, my lady, and neither are you, we both know the Dreadfort is falling into disrepute, and I have done my best to ensure you and your family are kept safe and well protected, from greedy eyes." Bolton states.
"You want me to support you in a bid for the Dreadfort? Why would I do that?" Catelyn asks, though she already knows her answer.
Bolton smiles. "Because just as a Stark must always be in Winterfell, a Bolton must always be in the Dreadfort. My father organised this coup, and I admit it was backward thinking of him. The north needs more links with the south, the time has come for this to happen. Support me, and the Dreadfort will support you."
Catelyn thinks on this for a moment, and as she replies, she cannot help but think that she is making a pact with the stranger himself. "Very well then."