(no subject)
Sansa had given Father, her word and she meant to keep it and she would have had to tell her mother either way. It should be easier after Father's words, knowing she would not be disowned was a huge weight off her mind, yet to have disappointed him so badly was a different burden altogether. Her mother would be just as disappointed if not more and things had gotten better between them recently.
She spends a good portion of the afternoon considering how to broach the matter with her mother, (the brief period she is not considering is spent emptying her stomach behind a bush yet again.) She is even praying over it when she remembers the drawings Bran did for her and the candles she bargained for. She sets up the makeshift sept not far from Summerfell and is considering how to light the candle or candles. From the fire, she thinks, when she hears footsteps.
Catelyn was drawn to the makeshift sept although she was not sure who she expected to be praying in it. Sansa made more sense than Arya or Robb might have. She eyed the pictures with reverence before resting her hand on the girl's shoulder for a brief moment as she glanced over at the unlit candles. "This is lovely."
Sansa takes a breath, "I'm glad you like it." It had been meant as a gift but Sansa has missed the sept, she'll pray at the heart tree as well. Sansa will pray to all the gods she can for all that her faith remains shaken. The seven were the gods of her childhood though, she favoured her mother's religion when they were safe and happy in Winterfell. "I'll just light this," she picks up a slender beeswax candle.
When she returns from the fire one hand cupped around protectively around the flame, she places it carefully in front of the drawing of the Mother. It's probably Bran's best and Sansa brushes one finger against the cheek of the baby in the drawing. She can be a good mother can't she? She hopes so but first she has to share her news. "I have something to tell you," she said quietly.
The older woman waited for her daughter to return, considering the images one by one. They seemed accurate enough. She could still see familiar faces if she looked at each of the Seven carefully enough. Catelyn's eyes followed Sansa's fingers as they brushed over the Mother and wondered what could be weighing so heavily on the girl's mind. "All right," she said in a kindly tone before sitting down.
Sansa swallows hard, this not something that gets easier with the telling. She almost wants to start by reassuring Mother that she has told Father and isn't that foolish of her. There is nothing she can do to soften this blow, only say it instead of letting the silence linger between them. She grips the material of her skirt and twist the material in an act of nerves, then forces her gaze away from the drawing and looks at Mother. "I'm fairly certain that I'm . . . that I'm with child." she said her voice quiet and tremulous and she has to pause to take a breath in the middle of that statement. She can't hold Mother's gaze though and she glances down ashamed.
Catelyn stared silently at the picture of the Mother and the baby in her arms. Gods be good, Sansa with child? She exhaled carefully, gazing into the soft light of the candles as she worked out some sort of response. "Whose child?"
Sansa had not expected that she'd thought she'd made it clear how she felt about Kialan. She thinks it's her own fault, she's barely spoken to Mother since they disagreed and after all if she's such a disgrace then why wouldn't Mother question the parentage of her babe. "Kialan's" she said in a tone filled with sorrow and longing, not that she expects sympathy when she has allowed herself such dishonour. She can't help but add though it matters little now, "he wanted to wed me . . . and then he was gone."
"I see," Catelyn said in a distant tone that did not indicate displeasure but nor did it indicate acceptance. The boy was gone back home then and had left behind a bastard. "Were you... How sincere was he in his intentions to wed you, Sansa?" she asked quietly, looking at the pictures of the Seven one-by-one.
Sansa thinks of that night, Kialan had had a lot of wine but he had said it more than once and sounded so pleased with the notion. She had been grateful he had accepted her affections as an answer instead of an agreement she could not give no matter that she wanted to. "He meant it," she insists because she needs to believe it, "but I did not know how to tell him about the Imp." If she had, would he still be here? is this her punishment for lying by omission? She does not know and the thought she could have kept Kialan by behaving differently makes her want to cry again. Nor does she know what to make of her mother's tone though distance is the list of what Sansa deserves.
"The Imp is not here and he does not matter," Catelyn said calmly, that much she did know and she would hardly blame Sansa for wanting a better match than a dwarf from a forced marriage neither of her parents approved of. "What does your father say?" she asked.
The imp wasn't here and Sansa hoped that was a situation that continued though she would not put anything past the island at the moment. "Father said I was part of the pack," she said in a small voice, "that he was disappointed but that he loved me," she sniffles. "That I wouldn't have to do it alone." Even repeating Father's words make Sansa ache with gratitude, she could be a lot worse off.
Catelyn considered the candle's flame again before clearing her throat and nodding. "I agree with him," she said, careful to keep her relief to herself. There was a way to be disappointed and to be a mother still. She would need all of the Mother's guidance but she would find a way to cope. "I do love you, Sansa. You will always be my daughter."
Sansa hugged herself, following her mother's gaze to the candle she'd lit. "I'm never meant . . ." she trails off it doesn't matter what she meant. She is grateful that mother agrees with Father. If she hadn't, Sansa shudders at the thought of causing more tension between her parents. "Thank you," she said, "I love you Mother." She wipes away a single tear, "I want to be, I do, I'm sorry I've shamed you so."
Catelyn looked over at Sansa and took one of the girl's hands in her longer and broken ones. "You're welcome, Sansa. And... We will... There is shame but there will be happiness."
Sansa clutches at her mother's hand, grateful for the contact then she remembers the scars and relaxes her grip hoping she didn't hurt her mother. Sansa has not dared admit to anyone that she is happy to have something of Kialan. Even now she can not form the words, but it gives her a spark of hope that her mother could perhaps be happy about this in time. "I would not want to do this without you," she says a little wistfully, knowing this is a silly obvious thing to say, but it had been her future in Westeros and then her fear on the island and so it just slips out.
"You will not," Catelyn promised, looking at Sansa but directing silent prayers to the Seven. "I am only sorry I could not have been there for you sooner," she added quietly.
Sooner? Sansa feels a flutter of panick and insists quietly. "I told Father as soon as I was sure." She'd told Susan first but she had not kept this a secret. It was perhaps the one thing she could say she had done right of late.
"But your...Kialan. He left some time ago," the older woman said, setting a calming hand down on Sansa's shoulder. "You had to deal with that grief all on your own."
Sansa could cry again, it would seem it's all she does lately. "I miss him so much," she whispers. "There was naught to be done though," and she had not been totally alone. "Robb, Robb is always a comfort." Now her parents know, she'll have to tell Robb of this, after asking him to approve of Kialan as well. She feels another swell of guilt. "I know all about being alone," she whispers. Enough to know she wants to avoid it if at all possible in future.
"I do too," Catelyn said softly, bringing her left hand up and gently wiping Sansa's tears away with the fingers that would still move. She knew all about being alone. "I am sorry, Sansa."
Of course Mother did, back home it had been first Father and then all the rumours and lies and the actual deaths, which Sansa does not like to think on. "I'm not alone anymore," she said as much to herself as to her mother.