DYING EMBERS || ROBB STARK

T H I R T Y - O N E

There was a distant silence between the two strong women, one tirelessly winding and binding a thin twine, soft colors contrasting to the deep color of her black dress while the other seemed to do the same with her hands, unable to form words that would satisfy the mourning Queen mother.

"You can say it, I won't be angry," Catelyn Stark said after a drawled out-breath, her sea-green eyes finally looking up towards the younger women.

Victoria blinked at the women, finding her words caught in the base of her throat and the ability to even cope became nonexistent. She had no words of vengeance or fury for the women she had once considered as close as a mother, merely a subtle glance of remorse and sorrow. Her anger had subsided long enough for the thunderstorms of sadness to creep into view.

She pushed past the dryness in her throat and spoke, "I am so sorry... there are no words for what has happened to you as of late. I wish there was a way for me to say these circumstances will become better or even that eventual it subsides but it never will. With every loved one we lose our sorrow does not lessen, instead, it becomes a bit harder to cope."

Catelyn had stopped her rapid twists and turns into the basis of her only coping mechanism to look up, eyes set on the brunette whose gaze had turned glassy and lips pressed together. Her hands had too stopped their movement to slow and painfully fist together, cradled in her lap.

Victoria took a soft breath, "forgive me, I have let my emotions escape."

"It's quite alright," Catelyn spoke in a much gentler tone, her hands lifted the circular object she held in her hands. Victoria had seen weaving them before and each time the pit in her stomach had dropped, a sort of fear creeping through her, she knew they were meant for a better outcome then their current situation but it felt wrong for her. There was something sinister about the ability a simple weaved ornament could bestow on the life of someone.

Catelyn looked her way and stated, "mothers were meant to make these for their children, to keep them safe from any harm, do you remember?"

Victoria offered her a tender smile, "I do, it almost feels like a different life but I do."

"Would you like to make one for..." Catelyn drifted off and her gaze dropped to her belly, her grandchild that had been yet another casualty in war. Victoria was strong to have loved and lost a child, she wondered if she too could be the same if the worst came to her feet.

Victoria felt horrible but when her words began to allude to weaving one of her own she felt disgusted, there was no use in protecting a child of hers that was now being guarded by her father and mother, and a something kept together by twine and sticks would not help her growing child, not when she was there to do everything. "Forgive me, but I never had faith in them as much as you have."

Catelyn almost seemed indifferent to her words, she went back to continue her work, eyes away from the women, "I suppose your family in Dorne does not mourn like us."