ENJOY YOU SEXY BASTARDS
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Catelyn hated the bastard with all her being; his very existence was a constant reminder that her husband had been unfaithful with another woman, a beautiful one, no doubt. She'd heard rumors that the bastard's mother was Ashara Dayne. Catelyn hadn't been blind; she'd seen the glances Ned and Ashara shared at Harrenhall. Her husband denied she was the mother, but Catelyn knew that ashara bitch had been the woman who'd slept with her husband. After all, she was a Dornish whore.
Ashara Dayne had been a very beautiful woman with long brown hair, long legs, full lips, large breasts, and what attracted the most attention were her violet eyes. All men had been captivated by Starfall's beauty, even her then fiancé, Brandon Stark.
The bastard had inherited his father's Stark looks: grey eyes like the Stark sword "Ice" (she thanked the gods that he hadn't inherited his mother's eyes; that would have been more insulting to her), dark hair, and a sharp face. But he had also inherited his mother's beauty: high cheekbones, her curls, full lips, and great height. The bastard was slender, not robust like the Starks. The maids of the castle and Wintertown swooned over the bastard's beauty and whispered that he was the most handsome man they had ever seen.
Catelyn had reprimanded all the maids who dared to say that, threatening to fire them if she heard them say it again; she wasn't going to let the bastard know that women were swooning over him.
The bastard had not only inherited his mothers and Stark's beauty, but also his uncle Ser Arthur Dayne's talent with the sword, much to Catelyn's displeasure. At the age of seven, he had begun weapons training alongside her son Robb under the tutelage of Ser Rodirk. She had begged her lord husband not to allow the bastard to take up a sword or learn to read, fearing that he would try to usurp his half-brother when they grew older.
But her husband had reprimanded her and told her that the bastard would take the same classes as her son Robb and they would both learn to fight. She had gritted her teeth and her knuckles had turned white when she heard that. Her husband had dedicated himself to embarrassing her more and more.
The more they trained, the more the bastard learned. Ser Rodrik congratulated him every time he proved himself a great swordsman. Even as a child, the bastard moved with elegance in battle; he was far better than her son, Robb. She had tried to threaten the bastard to bring him back down to earth. No matter how good he was at fighting and how much everyone praised him for it, he would always be a bastard and live in the shadow of his brother and lord, Robb. She had threatened to throw him out of the castle if he told her husband.
And what happened next was the worst. The following morning, when both children were training, the bastard had broken Robb's hand with the sword. She knew that the boy had done it on purpose, but her husband and Ser Rodrik had told her that such things happened. She had intended to hit him with the wooden sword as well, but her husband had caught her, sword in hand, as she went to the bastard's room.
"What the hell were you supposed to do with that Catelyn?" her husband had asked her, fury in his voice.
"The bastard broke your son's hand, your heir, and I will not allow such humiliation for the next lord of the north," Catelyn told him.
"Jon is my son, and I will not allow such aggression against my own flesh and blood. What will the lords of the North say when they learn that the Lady of Winterfell beats an eight-day-old boy simply because he broke her brother's hand? If you cannot accept that Jon is good at anything, if you try to make our son Robb oppose and hate his brother, then Robb does not deserve to be the next lord of the North," her husband had said, and it terrified her. How dare he say such a thing about her son? How could he even think of disinheriting his own true son? That had been the second greatest humiliation of her life. After that, she never again attempted to strike the bastard, but she did humiliate him emotionally. There were no good days for the bastard.
she reminded him that he was a snow child and would never have a home or a land to live on. And she ordered the septa to make her children be taught that bastards are all evil.
When the bastard and Robb were ten years old, their husband gave each of them a horse, a brown one for Robb and one as black as night for the bastard. Their son Robb had a little difficulty riding a horse bigger than his pony, but after a few minutes he learned and it was one of the most beautiful emotions in life, to see her son grow. Their daughter Sansa did not like riding the pony, besides she was still very small.
Her husband helped the bastard onto the horse and any happiness she had felt vanished when she saw that child. As soon as he mounted the horse, he began to ride around the yard as if he had been born on the horse, galloping as if he had been born to do so.
"Jon reminds me of your brother Brandon, he has wolf blood like Brandon and Lyanna," old Nan had said to Ned.
Catelyn had been offended to hear that from the old woman; how dare she even compare a good man like Brandon to a bastard? Neither her son nor her husband had been bothered by the bastard's riding; Robb had seen him as a rival and brother, and her husband looked at the bastard with affection and sadness.
" Are you remembering the bastard's mother? " she wondered when she saw sadness on her husband's face.
AN:-
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