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talk about accuracy

Catelyn Stark being a possessive and feisty Cat 

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Daphne I KNOW we have no right to ask you this…but PLEASE don’t give up on NedCat 😭 you totally have to focus on school, I get that, but you said your hyper fixations tend to die out quickly so now I’m worried you won’t ever write them again 😭😭😭

Hi anon! My hyperfixations die out quickly, yes, but I love Ned and Catelyn, it absolutely helped that I’ve created 19 stories about them and have pending works that I know will continue to haunt me until I finish them. And I mean it when I say they’re ingrained in my mind, like rent-free, permanently residing in my brain kind of ingrained. Even when I’m not actively writing, I still think about them constantly: scenes, dialogue, headcanons, AU ideas, it’s all still there, simmering. So don’t worry too much! I might be quiet for a while because school and college applications will definitely eat me alive, but I haven’t given up on them. 💙

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This isn’t exactly NedCat, but in alternative scenario where everything is the same except Robert doesn’t care about the Targaryen children, and thus Ned takes Viserys and Daenerys to Winterfell, how do you think the dynamics among all the children would’ve been like?

I think it would be funny to see Jon calling both 20 years old Ned and 8 years old Viserys “Uncle” lol

Okay but this is such a fun scenario to think about. Like, you’re telling me baby Jon grows up in a Stark-Targaryen mash-up household, calling two kids with silver hair “Uncle” and “Auntie” while they’re barely old enough to tie their own shoes? That’s already peak comedy.

But looking past the initial chaos, the dynamics would be wildly interesting. Viserys is only a young boy at the time, but old enough to remember the fall of his house and carry that Targaryen pride/bitterness with him. He’d be this bratty little prince stuck in a cold Northern castle, surrounded by Starks who, in his eyes, helped overthrow his family. There’s no way he wouldn’t resent it. He’d be sulky, entitled, and constantly saying things like “When I’m older, I’ll take back what’s mine,” and meanwhile little Jon and Robb are just like, “okay sure.” Ned would treat him with basic decency, of course, because that’s who Ned is, but he wouldn’t coddle him. He’d probably be even more strict with Viserys, if anything, just to keep him grounded and protect the balance in the household.

Daenerys, though, is just a baby. So she’d grow up like a Stark. She’d grow up with Robb and Jon and Viserys and watch the other Starklings grow up, probably sharing a nursery with them, being taught to sew and ride and maybe even getting a little of Old Nan’s stories. She’d be Northern in all but name. And Catelyn well, it would depend. Catelyn is a mother, but she’s not everyone’s mother. She doesn’t have innate maternal instincts toward children who aren’t her own. Canon shows this clearly with Theon, he lived under her roof for years and she never treated him like a son. Her relationship with Brienne, too, is based in shared experiences as women, not a maternal bond. That doesn’t mean she’s cruel or heartless she just does not warm quickly or at all in that way. But it is likely that she will care and be fond of Dany.

Robb and Jon would probably think Viserys is annoying most of the time. Like, imagine them as ten-year-olds trying to sneak off to practice swords, and Viserys insists on coming but won’t shut up about Balerion the Black Dread and how real warriors ride dragons. Robb would roll his eyes. Jon might find him fascinating at first because he is a Targaryen himself and would be more curious about their family's history than Robb would be, but eventually even Jon would be like, “Can you not?”

Bran would adore Dany. He’s that sweet, observant type who loves everyone quietly, and she’d be this little ray of warmth in a household that’s often cold in more ways than one. And Arya and Dany would definitely be close. Dany growing up with a little bit of dragon fire in her would probably vibe with Arya’s feral energy. They’d be climbing towers together, sneaking out to the Godswood, and generally being menaces.

I would love to think Sansa and Dany being closeeee. Dany will be older than Sansa and it will do her good to have an older sister. Sansa is conscious of social rules and appearances, but she’s also a kind, loving child. If Dany grows up beside her as a “sister” in all but blood, Sansa would have every reason to treat her as such. Their girlhood would likely be full of play, dress-up, and dreaming together--especially because they’re both romantic at heart in very different ways. Imagine them braiding each other’s hair, whispering about songs and dragons and fairytales. And both having these wildly different mythologies in their blood: the ice of the North and the fire of Old Valyria. Come on.

As they got older, sure, the Targaryen name might start to carry more weight, and Sansa might notice the differences more, especially if people around them made comments about Dany’s looks or her bloodline. But even then, Sansa’s first instinct is to love and please the people she cares about. If Dany was a good, kind sister to her, Sansa would never pull away out of pride. If anything, she'd cling tighter.

Dany would love Jon. As a brother, as her friend, as her safe place. He wouldn’t talk down to her or try to shape her into something else. She could be wild with Arya or serious with Sansa and always know that Jon will meet her wherever she is.

Rickon growing up with Jon, Robb, and Viserys as older male figures? That kid’s personality would be bonkers. Imagine a toddler Rickon trying to copy Viserys’s dramatic “I am the dragon!” speeches but with a thick Northern accent and his hair sticking up in every direction. He’d be storming around Winterfell with a stick pretending it’s a sword, yelling about dragons and direwolves like they’re interchangeable. Pure feral prince energy.

All in all, it would be chaotic but compelling. Jon being the bridge between all of them. And Viserys would definitely tease Jon and Robb and all the other kids in the most annoying way until one of them pins him in the yard and Arya yells, “YOU’RE NOT EVEN A PRINCE ANYMORE!”

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What prompt are you working on right now? 😊

Hi, anon! I was supposed to be editing the errors in the 11th prompt on my list, but I ended up noticing a pretty major plot hole that would take more time to fix than I originally planned. With school approaching, I’ve decided to put fic writing on hold for now so I can focus on school-related stuff.

And since I’m gonna need time to adjust to this school year, I most likely will not be updating or uploading anything for a few months… or worse, until the Christmas vacation. Thank you for understanding!🥹

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Wait what do you mean you're going back to school already? Didn't you just finish? Nooo my condolences girl😭

LMAOOOO I am grieving, too. Sadly, the two months of vacation will end this Sunday and I will be going to school against my will for another 10 months

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Okay I have a bit of a difficult question. I don't know if you've watched house of the dragon (I'm assuming you have) but I did a rewatch recently and of course I have to make everything about nedcat. How do you think Ned would have acted if he was in a situation similar to that of Viserys in the first episode? Like if he was in a situation where the maester told him you either attempt to save the baby but sacrifice the mother or leave things to their fate and potentially lose them both? I personally don't think he would have made the same choice as Viserys but I would like to hear your take

Okay, so I did watch the first season and from what I recall, Aemma was basically doomed either way, her body had been worn down from a lifetime of childbearing and multiple traumatic pregnancies (and we blame Viserys for this btw). And by the time of this specific pregnancy, Mellos tells Viserys that the baby is in breech and asked him to either sacrifice Aemma or lose both her and the child. He informs him of a technique that is basically a c-section, and that the resulting blood loss will kill Aemma without a doubt.

It wasn't simply "choose baby or wife," but he was really asking a more sinister question: "your wife is dying either way, do you try to save the child, or lose both?"

But when applying that to Ned and Catelyn, it becomes a very different emotional landscape. Catelyn and Ned, for all the trauma their family would eventually suffer, weren’t operating from that same place of medical hopelessness. There’s no indication in canon that Catelyn had repeated miscarriages or stillbirths. She had five healthy children, and while that alone is incredibly physically demanding--especially in a world without advanced medicine--she clearly survived childbirth over and over without fatal complications. So while she absolutely could have had a difficult labor (and with five babies, statistically, at least one probably wasn’t smoother than the others), it’s not the same pattern of loss and trauma that Aemma went through.

And changes some things for this.

Because Viserys, for all his wrongs, made a choice from despair. He was told his wife would die and saw the baby as the only potential gain. He was greedy for a son. For the continuation of his line. He prioritized the idea of his future, his throne, his dynasty, over the person in front of him--his wife, who trusted him and had no say in what happened to her. It was a betrayal dressed in duty.

Ned, in that same scenario, but with Catelyn, who has never been in quite that level of physical peril, would have hope. And hope, for Ned, is enough to wait. Enough to let fate play out rather than seize control and sacrifice one life to maybe get another. Enough to tell her how dire the situation really is (something that Viserys did not even do in the show) and let her to choose, instead. Ned isn’t a man who’s comfortable taking a life for a “what if.” Especially not Catelyn’s life. Especially not when there’s still even a sliver of chance that both could survive.

So if the maester came to him and said, “She might die either way, but we could attempt to save the baby if we act now,” Ned wouldn’t leap at that. He wouldn’t gamble with her body like that. He would agonize, yes, but at the end of the day, I think he’d lean toward protecting her unless he knew with certainty that she wanted the maesters to try everything to save the child. And if she wasn’t conscious to express that? He wouldn’t presume. Not with her life on the line. Not when her life is the foundation of his home, his children, and frankly--himself.

He’d likely say something like, “If there’s still a chance for both, then let them fight.” That’s a very Ned thing: grim, honorable, rooted in painful patience. He’d sit beside her, hold her hand, and let the gods decide, not the blade.

And to the point about her surviving five births already--that’s a huge testament to her strength. And Ned knows that. He knows what she’s already endured for their family, and he’d respect that by not choosing her death on the chance of one more child.

So yeah. Even if things were dire, even if the odds weren’t good, he wouldn’t make that call like Viserys did. Not without her voice. Not without hope. And not when her life, her presence meant everything to him and their children.

And if she did die? It would destroy him. He’d never forgive himself either way. But at least he wouldn’t live with the knowledge that he chose it.

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The Hangwoman (Pt. 2)

She’s coming alooooong. Maybe for once I’ll actually finish a drawing! I’m trying color on this piece right now, so maybe yall will be getting some more of this. In the meantime, here ☻

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How do you think the kids would’ve reacted if they found out about how Ned responded when Cat asked about Jon’s mom😶😶😶😶

Ooooh okay, this is a fun one and also kind of brutal. Because if the Stark kids ever found out how Ned reacted when Catelyn asked him about Jon’s mother, that cold, closed-off, shut-down-the-conversation “never ask me about Jon again” vibe, it would absolutely hit each of them in really different ways, based on who they are, what they value, and what their relationships with Ned, Cat, and Jon were like.

Again, I'm cutting this one here for those who want to scroll past this post quick enough.

Let’s just start with Robb, because he’s the most emotionally mature of the kids and the one closest to both Catelyn and Jon. Him being the first born would already know the story, or at least the version of it the world believed: that his honorable father had come back from war with a bastard son, refusing to name the mother, and forcing his wife to live with it. And yeah, I don’t think for a second that Robb was indifferent about that. He adored his mother, I mean reallyyyy loved her, and that meant he carried some of her pain, too. Even if Ned never talked about it--and we know for a fact that he didn’t--Robb would’ve felt the weight of that silence. He saw the strain in the household, the way Catelyn froze up around Jon, the tension that no one was allowed to even discuss. And the hardest part would probably be the fact that he couldn’t question his father's decisions about it. Not even as the eldest son. Not even as the one trying hardest to be just like him.

So if he ever found out that when Catelyn did ask, Ned just shut her down with a “never ask me about Jon again”? That would’ve hit Robb in a deep, unresolved place. Because at a certain age, he’d know his mother wasn’t wrong to ask. That she had every right to feel hurt, confused, maybe even betrayed. And yet, he’d also be carrying this fierce love for Jon, who he grew up beside like a twin, a brother in everything but name. Robb would’ve been always stuck between the two people he loved most, both wounded in different ways by the same thing his father refuses to talk about. Ultimately, Robb would try to rationalize it with something like "Father had his reasons", but we can safely say that he probably spent most of his youth trying to smooth over what he couldn’t fix with him defending his mother’s behavior to Jon in subtle ways, and defending Jon’s place in the family in more internal ways.

And his thoughts about this situation will strike him in the gut years later during the war. When things spiraled, when he became King in the North and was suddenly expected to lead like his father, he leaned even harder into that image of his father. Stoic and, honorable. Except… then he broke a marriage pact and wed the girl he dishonored. And in that moment, you know he thought of his father. You know he remembered how Catelyn had suffered in silence, how he’d thought bad of Ned for causing that pain. And now here he was, making a choice that would hurt his mother, just like his father had.

That’s part of why I think he started to pull away from her after that not just because of the political fallout, or the thing about Catelyn freeing Jaime Lannister. But because he couldn’t bear to see that disappointment in her eyes. He couldn’t bear to see himself mirrored in the man he’d both idolized and quietly resented. And like Ned, Robb didn’t really know how to talk about guilt. He just compartmentalized it, boxed it up, and moved forward. That silence became his armor. The same armor that had once made Ned a fortress now made Robb a shadow of him trying so hard to be the man he loved, without ever quite making peace with the boy who’d watched his parents live with a secret that shaped them all.

Now with Sansa... She’d probably be more conflicted than people might expect. Early Sansa, pre-King’s Landing, would’ve likely taken her mother's side out of reflex because she really models herself after Cat. She wants to be her mother in every way and she’s very much a rule-follower and probably saw Jon’s presence as slightly improper, because she would have seen how Catelyn is cold to Jon, how Ned and Catelyn had points in their marriage where they would be all tense and ignore each other. She would have seen all that even if she wouldn’t say it aloud. So learning that Ned refused to explain himself might feel validating at first like, “So Mother wasn’t just being cold; Father was keeping something from us.” But as she matures and especially after all she goes through, Sansa would start to really interrogate that silence. She'd realize that both of her parents were stuck in an impossible situation, and that Ned’s refusal wasn’t cruelty, it was protection, maybe even shame. I think she’d ultimately feel a deep sadness about it: that this big, aching wound in their family could’ve maybe been softened if someone had just said the truth. But that's the thing, Ned would never say a thing about it. And I really think that since she modeled herself around Catelyn, she'd do what her mother did: ignore. Just complete ignoring the elephant in the room, and distance herself from Jon. She did not hate Jon, no. But she just knew that Jon being her "half-brother" was something that is constantly causing pain and strain in her parents' relationship with each other.

Arya, at her age, wouldn’t have had the full framework to understand everything going on, but that girl felt things deeply and saw more than people gave her credit for. She already knew something was wrong with the way Jon was treated. She might not have known why, not fully, but she knew it wasn’t fair. And part of why she knew that was because her life didn’t feel fair either--not in the same way, but close enough that it made her empathize. Arya didn’t fit into the box people wanted to keep her in. She hated the sewing lessons, the expectation of becoming a lady, all the rules about what girls could and couldn’t do. And when she looked at Jon, who was just as much a Stark as Robb or Bran in her eyes but still couldn’t sit at the high table or carry their name, she saw that same kind of injustice reflected back.

And because of that, Arya had Jon’s back. He was her favorite sibling, the one who got her, who didn’t laugh when she wanted to fight with a wooden sword or climb the towers. Let's also not forget that at one point she feared herself a bastard because she looked like Jon and not her other trueborn siblings. So from Arya’s point of view, Jon wasn’t the problem. And Ned, who let her be a little more herself than her mother did, wasn’t the problem either--not yet. The problem, in her nine-year-old eyes, was Catelyn. Because Catelyn was the one who treated Jon like he didn’t belong. Catelyn was the one who gave cold looks or sharp tones or just walked past Jon like he wasn’t there. And it hurt, even if Arya couldn’t articulate why.

But here’s the twist: Arya loved her mother, too. Fiercely. And even if she didn’t feel as close to her as she did to Ned, that didn’t mean she didn’t want her mother’s approval. So she carried this complicated tangle of resentment and guilt--wanting her mother to love Jon like she did, but also feeling like she wasn’t supposed to say.

So imagine Arya at that age, or even a little younger, finding out that Ned had once yelled at Catelyn for asking about Jon’s mother. That he’d shut her down cold, told her never to bring it up again. That would scramble everything.

At first, she’d probably feel vindicated. Because for once, it wouldn’t be her mother being right and her father quietly standing back. It would be him being the one who caused the pain. And Arya doesn’t like unfairness, even when it comes from people she loves. So she’d be angry. Angry at him for hurting her mother, angry that Jon’s whole life was this secret that somehow managed to make everyone feel like crap in different ways. And then she’d be ashamed, too, because she’d start to realize how young and one-sided her view had been--blaming her mother for everything, when really, it was more complicated than that. That would hit her hard. Because Arya never liked being wrong, especially not about the people she loves.

And then, like always, she’d go protective. That’s her default mode. She’d want to shield Jon from the fallout, shield her mother from the hurt, and somehow still hold onto this picture of her father as a man who always did the right thing. Because that’s who he was to her until the moment she saw the cracks.

It wouldn’t break her trust in Ned entirely, but it would change it. It would take her a long time to really process what that kind of silence, that kind of decision, meant. But she’d never forget it. Because Arya carries things like that. She tucks them deep, but she remembers.

Bran’s reaction would be the most quietly conflicted of all the Stark kids, not because he wouldn’t care, but because he just wouldn’t know what to do with that information. At seven years old, Bran was still in that in-between stage: old enough to observe things, to recognize that Jon was a “bastard” and that their mother didn’t treat him like the others, but still too young to really grasp what that meant emotionally or politically. That was just the shape of his family. Jon was his brother. Catelyn was his mother. Those were the roles. And if there was distance or tension, well, that was just how things were, he wouldn’t necessarily question why.

So if Bran were to ever learn that Ned, his calm, quiet, unwavering father, had actually raised his voice at Catelyn over Jon, had refused to speak about Jon’s mother and shut her down entirely? That would crack something open in him.

At first, he probably wouldn’t even believe it. Not out of denial, but just… confusion. Ned and Catelyn were the two constants in his life, the two pillars that always seemed steady and united in everything they did. And now there’s this image: his father, not just keeping a secret, but hurting his mother with it. Being angry about it. Shutting her out. Bran wouldn’t know where to put that in his mental map of the world.

He would still love his father, of course. But that image of Ned as this honorable, near-perfect figure would take a hit. Not completely, but noticeably. Bran is thoughtful by nature, always watching, always listening. So this new piece of information would settle in the back of his mind, and he’d start reevaluating things. Maybe not right away, but eventually, especially as he got older. He’d start remembering little moments: how Catelyn avoided Jon, how Ned never explained anything, how none of it ever quite made sense. And he’d realize that the silence in his family wasn’t just there. Instead, it was put there.

And what makes this harder is that Bran would feel bad for both of them. For Catelyn, who had to live with that silence. For Ned, who must’ve been carrying something so big he felt like he had to shout and then never speak of it again. And for Jon most of all, who was the center of this massive, rift and didn’t even know the full truth himself.

Bran wouldn’t be angry, not the way Arya would be, or even how Sansa might stew over it. His way of processing is more internal, more reflective. He’d just… carry it. Let it settle into the deeper understanding of family and sacrifice and silence that becomes such a core part of who he is later on. And when he eventually grew into the boy who fell, who flew, who saw the truth of the world in fragments and visions, this moment, Ned’s refusal to tell the truth, and the pain it caused, would be something he’d finally understand. And I think he’d mourn it. Not just for his parents, but for what it did to the heart of their family.

Rickon is harder to pin down because he was so young when everything fell apart. But let’s say in a world where he survives and grows up to hear about this, he’d probably be shocked. He’d have grown up with this myth of Ned Stark as this perfect, unwavering figure, and hearing that he was part of this painful silence would rattle that. Maybe not in a huge, dramatic way, but it would introduce that first crack, that sense that grown-ups are complicated, that love and rightness don’t always line up.

So that's all for this lovely yapping session about the Starks. I'm sorry for this long ass post.

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the concept of a boy telling their mother “mom your hand is getting smaller” while holding hands made me cry tf put daphne pay for my therapy now

That bit was actually added at the very last minute bc I needed just ONE MORE FILLER SCENE so to have you go here and tell me you cried over it is so important to me. Thank you for reading!

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Do you read all the comments you get on your fics?

I do. Although this ask has genuinely made me ponder if I don’t, and I’m kinda scared😭

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I have a head canon that goes like this: what if Catelyn was Ser Bryden “The Blackfish” Tullys daughter? What if The Blackfish never married because his heart belonged to Minisa Whent, but as second born he could not have her. What if the course of Catelyn’s life so closely mirrored that which Brynden secretly yearned for, felt guilt and shame for? What if the fact that both Hoster and Brynden knew Catelyn for a true bastard, that when Ned brings Jon home to WF, they cannot, however much they wish to, seek recompense for the slight?

Just curious what you imagine the results of that butterfly wing lifting would bring—

I’ve always had it in my hc that Brynden is a homosexual and that’s why he never married, but your version literally made me gasp so loud. (My answer being this long surprised me so I'm going to put a cut here)

If Brynden loved Minisa and they did the deed which led to Catelyn being born, that opens up a whole other depth to his and her story.

Imagine Brynden watching Catelyn grow up, seeing in her the very life he once dreamed of. She is betrothed to a 'good man', she holds her house together, she speaks with her mother’s voice and carries her pride. He must have felt pride in her, but also guilt, maybe even grief. (since we all know Catelyn had to step up when her mother died at the raw age of 9/10.) She is everything he could never claim, and every joy she has is a reminder of the life he once came close to having but could never keep. There’s pain in that. The kind that can't get talked about in halls or over cups of wine. Just a weight carried in silence, the kind that wears a man down over the years until all he has left is duty.

If Hoster knew the truth, that brings another edge to his character. His insistence on proper matches, on family duty and honor, on silencing dissent, it isn’t just pride or ambition. It’s an effort to clean up what he considers a mess. He took in his wife's child with his brother and called her his own, but maybe he never let go of what it cost him. Years after, he would lose Minisa. He had to keep a secret that stained all their names. His rage at Lysa’s defiance, his push to marry off Catelyn quickly and well, might not come from concern. It might come from desperation to control the damage. Brynden’s refusal to obey Hoster’s demands makes even more sense now. He gave up his heart. He gave up his child. He failed to honor his family's words once and paid the price. Maybe he vowed not to do it again.

As for Catelyn, if she ever found out, it would shake the foundations of everything she believes in. Her anger toward Jon Snow, her insistence on rules and names and legitimacy, it wouldn’t be hypocrisy. It would be fear. Deep, personal fear. The kind that says if Jon belongs, then what did that make her? If Ned can bring home a child by another woman and expect love and loyalty, what did that say about the lie she had been raised inside her whole life? If she, a woman, could be born a bastard and still be raised and named a Tully, then what wouldn’t the world allow a man? If her entire life could be rewritten for the sake of retaining silence and family honor, then what chance did she have of ever trusting that anything was truly hers?

Ned bringing Jon home becomes the one act neither Brynden nor Hoster can rightfully condemn. They’ve done it already. They have taken in a child born out of wedlock, born of shame, passed her off as their own, and buried the truth so deep it grew roots. There’s no moral high ground left to claim, no righteous outrage that doesn’t echo their own choices.

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How do you think Ned and Catelyn parent differently, and how do they complement each other?

Hi, anon! I got a tad bit over with answering this question, so I'm going to have to put the whole answer after this cut.

When you look at Ned and Catelyn as parents, what really stands out is how different their styles are--not in opposition exactly, but in tone, focus, and what they each think matters most in shaping their children. They come from different regions, different cultures, and different emotional temperaments. Ned is shaped by the North, by stoicism and a strong sense of integrity. Catelyn is a Tully, Southern in upbringing, and far more attuned to outward appearances, social dynamics, and emotional connection. They love their children deeply, that’s not in question, but how they express it, and how they try to prepare their kids for the world, looks very different.

With Ned, parenting is about example. He doesn’t explain his choices unless asked; he expects his children to observe, absorb, and understand the lessons behind his actions. He’s the type to take Robb and Jon to see an execution and say one line afterward: “The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword” because he believes that doing is the teaching. There’s a powerful morality to him, but it’s deeply internal. He raises his children to have that same inner compass: grounded and deeply tied to duty. But Ned’s also emotionally restrained. He feels everything, but he rarely lets it show. That means his children--especially the younger ones--may not always feel seen or understood by him, even when he's deeply invested in their well-being.

Catelyn, on the other hand, is hands-on in a much more direct way. She’s likely more emotionally present, deeply involved in her children’s day-to-day lives (since she does not necessarily have to leave Winterfell for weeks/months from time to time unlike Ned), and driven by a protective instinct that can border on fierce. She parents with structure, with affection, and also with a strong awareness of what her children will need in the real world, the world of courts, alliances, and appearances. Where Ned thinks about inner values, Catelyn often thinks about outer safety. She wants her children not just to survive but to thrive, and that means shaping them into people who can play the game, who can be respected, admired, and even feared if necessary. Her version of love is active: tucking them in, praying with them, correcting their behavior, worrying over their reputations. She is as much a mother as she is a lady of the house, and she never forgets either role.

What’s interesting is how these differences play out with each child, because they don’t parent all their kids the same way. With Robb, for example, both Ned and Catelyn are fully engaged, but in complementary ways. Ned trains him to be just and firm, as he is the future Lord of Winterfell, while Catelyn helps him be someone who understands politics and alliances, who can speak with bannermen and hold his own in a hall (which is mostly and primarily seen through their dynamics during the war). Robb is the only child they co-parent in that balanced way from the beginning, and it shows. He’s the one who carries both his parents’ legacies: honorable like his father, but warm and commanding like his mother. That dual influence is a strength for him… and sometimes a vulnerability.

With Sansa, the dynamic shifts. Catelyn is clearly the dominant influence as Sansa’s interests naturally align with her mother’s. Catelyn reinforces the courtly ideals Sansa already loves: etiquette, beauty, proper speech, the fantasy of noble life. Ned, while affectionate with her, doesn’t really have the chance to dive deeper in her world. He’s more comfortable watching Arya shoot arrows than sitting through Sansa’s embroidery. He doesn’t try to change her, but he steps back, lets Catelyn lead. That distance matters, because when Sansa falls for the Southern court dream, there’s no one in her life giving her a counterpoint until it’s too late.

Arya is the flip side. Catelyn tries to mold her into a lady, and Arya rejects it completely. This is where the tension in their parenting really shows. Ned, in contrast, sees Arya for who she is, and as best as he could, he makes space for it. He doesn’t encourage rebellion, but he doesn’t stifle it either. He lets Syrio come. He lets her carry Needle. It’s one of the most radical parenting choices in the books. Ned accepts her for who she is, and that permission becomes a foundation for Arya’s entire arc. Meanwhile, Catelyn--loving, protective, but very traditional--struggles to see Arya’s wildness as anything but dangerous. She loves Arya deeply, but she doesn’t quite know how to reach her or nurture the kind of girl Arya is becoming.

And then there’s Bran and Rickon, who really reflect the toll of time and trauma on both parents. Bran, before the fall, was probably raised with high hopes and shared pride. Ned clearly thought he’d grow into a strong, capable son. Catelyn doted on him. But after the fall, we see their styles diverge under pressure. Catelyn becomes consumed by grief and guilt. She abandons everything else--Robb, Rickon, even Sansa and Arya--for Bran’s bedside. Ned is still present, but more emotionally muted, torn between Winterfell and King’s Landing. You can feel how tragedy fractures their shared parenting.

By the time tragedy begins to unfold, Rickon is still a toddler, too young to understand what’s happening but old enough to feel the absence and fear that settles over Winterfell. Neither parent really gets the chance to shape him fully. Catelyn, after Bran’s fall, becomes so consumed by grief and guilt that she leaves Rickon behind entirely, and Ned is called away to King’s Landing before he can truly be a consistent presence in his youngest son's life.

But there’s this one moment early on that tells you everything about how differently they approach parenting Rickon. Catelyn tells Ned that Shaggydog, frightens Rickon “He is only three,” she says. And Ned replies, almost grimly, “He must learn to face his fears. He will not be three forever. And winter is coming.” It’s just a line, but it says so much. Catelyn wants to protect Rickon’s innocence, at least acknowledge that he is rightfully scared of the direwolf at that age. Ned, in contrast, sees fear as something to grow into and through, something a Stark child must face, because softness has no place in the winters to come. Neither of them is wrong, exactly, but the moment shows that emotional divide between them: Catelyn wants to comfort; Ned wants to prepare. And in the end, Rickon ends up getting very little of either, raised more by ghosts and wolves than by the parents who once argued over how to protect him.

But even with all their differences, they work well together because of the contrast. Catelyn brings warmth, emotion, and social strategy while Ned brings integrity, perspective, and restraint. She teaches their children how to survive and lead in the world; he teaches them how to live with themselves. It’s that balance that makes their family strong… until it all comes apart.

They parent differently. Radically so, in some cases. But in their best moments, they don’t cancel each other out but they complete the picture.

For starters, this is not to say that they didn’t fail to teach their kids things they needed--because they did, in ways big and small. Ned, for all his strength and moral clarity, didn’t know how to prepare his children for a world that didn’t follow the same rules he lived by. He taught them honor, but not always the cost of it. He gave them a deep sense of right and wrong, but not the tools to understand or go through the grey spaces in between. His children inherited his integrity, but not always his caution. And when thrown into a world like King’s Landing, ruthless, deceptive, political, they were left vulnerable.

So yes, they failed in some parts, like any real parents do. But they also gave their children the foundations of who they became. Their strengths, their courage, loyalty, resilience are just as much the product of Ned and Catelyn’s love as their traumas are. The tragedy of it all is that the world they were raised for--the world their parents thought they were preparing them to live in--didn’t exist anymore. And by the time that became clear, it was already too late.

[crldnvrs97]

get to know your moots tag game !

✶ answer the questions, then tag six people

I was tagged by @sophieturnersdoppelganger ❤️

favorite color ꕀ lavender/sky blue

last song ꕀ Supermarket Flowers (listen to this song, too, to those who want to cry themselves bloody)

currently reading ꕀ I just finished reading Sunrise On the Reaping and I don't think I'd be going onto the next book on my list anytime soon.

currently watching ꕀ Castle S3

currently craving ꕀ Spanish Latte

coffee or tea ꕀ Coffee. You would never catch me drinking tea.

get to know your moots tag game !

✶ answer the questions, then tag six people

I was tagged by @snow-blower and @inkandarsenic ❤️

favorite color ꕀ light pink and cinnamon (my pony is a reddish bay, so the color of his coat)

last song ꕀ Emmylou Harris' cover of 'The Boxer'

currently reading ꕀ I've been writing a lot, so I haven't been reading as much, but 'Not a Happy Family' by Shari Lapena is next on my TBR

currently watching ꕀ I just started the second season of 'Ted Lasso', and I'm almost done the first season of HOTD

currently craving ꕀ Inky said sushi and now I also kinda want sushi. Or a fancy Swiss cheese and a glass of Merlot.

coffee or tea ꕀ I love tea, particularly chamomile, but I am ultimately a coffee girl!

absolutely no pressure tags ❤️

@yerevasunclair, @polysucks, @catstarkapologist, @fourthcrow, @crldnvrs97, @eddardofthehousestark, @agirlisnoonesdoppelganger

[crldnvrs97]

hi can you recommend me a few songs that scream nedcat for you?

Okay, listen... I correlate A LOT of songs to NedCat because they're ingrained into my head, even if there's a teeny tiny lyric out of a whole damn song that matches them, I'd immediately add those to my Nedcat Playlist. So I'd keep this list to a minimum of 10 with the first five I'm gonna yap about and I'm going to just put down the rest.

I guess the first one would be 1) Would You Fall In Love With Me Again. That is literally them if they had made it past their canonical deaths. "Don't tell me you're not the same person You're always my husband and I've been waiting, waiting" Yeah, that's THEM your honor.

2) Would That I: This song is about the narrator using fire as a metaphor for his current and great love, and his past loves as the trees. And we all know Ned loves Catelyn's hair, which is KISSED BY FIRE!! and the fire is described to be burning down the trees as a metaphor to that current love burning down all the remnants of his past romantic relationships. "With each love I cut loose, I was never the same / Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame / I was fixed on your hand of gold / Laying waste to my lovin' long ago" THAT IS SO CATELYN CONSUMING ALL OF NED LITERALLY ALL OF HIM!! OH MY BABIES!!

3) Do I Wanna Know: Again, I had written a song fic with this one, and I think it embodies Ned and Catelyn's early marriage where they know they love each other but have not yet built up the courage to say it aloud. "Are there some aces up your sleeve? / Have you no idea that you're in deep? / I dreamt about you nearly every night this week / How many secrets can you keep?"

4) Wildflower: This is the song that was playing in my head over and over again while writing A Love That Endures because the narrator in the song is literally Catelyn thinking about the woman he slept with during the warm and her thinking if he thinks about that woman, too. It just breaks my heart. "And I know that you love me / You don’t need to remind me / Wanna put it all behind me, but baby / I see her in the back of my mind all the time / Like a fever, like I’m burning alive, like a sign / Did I cross the line?" then... " And I wonder Do you see her in the back of your mind in my eyes?" I'm killing Ned after this.

5) Snow on The Beach: I mean, even the title itself gives them away because Ned is the snow, cold, reserved, quiet, duty-bound, and Catelyn is the beach, warm, proud, fierce with emotion, a Tully to her core. This song is about the surreal magic of falling in love with someone at the same time they’re falling for you, and how beautiful and unlikely that feels. That’s NedCat in the early days of their marriage, when love wasn’t supposed to be part of the deal, but it crept in anyway.

“This scene feels like what I once saw on a screen / I searched ‘aurora borealis green’ / I’ve never seen someone lit from within / Blurring out my periphery” — that’s Ned seeing Catelyn for the first time not as the bride his brother was meant to wed, not as his duty, but as herself, and falling before he even realizes it. Then there’s “You wanting me tonight feels impossible / But it's comin' down, no sound, it's all around / Like snow on the beach,” which shows that yearning between them, the disbelief that something so gentle and beautiful could grow out of grief and obligation. Their love was unexpected, improbable, and somehow still steady and soft. Like snow falling on a beach, it shouldn’t happen, but it does, and it’s unforgettable.

The rest of the songs because I have to go sleep:

The Great War

Winter Song

Me and My Husband

Willow

Before You Do It Again

[crldnvrs97]

Theon Greyjoy was weak. I would've tried flirting with Catelyn even with Ned alive so she could get mad at me and lock me in her chambers and tie me to her bed.

sorry i saw that draw ur babygirl as this template thought of cat and got so horny i blacked out

[crldnvrs97]

mother and daughter