Maester Luwin cursed Bran to fall from that tower by making that clay doll with his clothes.

“You did well, my lady.” 

Catelyn leaned back against the chair, not reacting to maester Luwin's praise. Her eyes were closed and she was drawing slow breaths through her nose. 

“Aye. Lord Stark did well to trust you with Winterfell.” Ser Rodrik chimed in.

The hearing with lady Hornwood had gone on for an awfully long time, it felt to her. Throughout it she had tried hard to conceal her pain, to remain focused, and offer advice to the best of her ability. She could only hope that the issue with the Hornwood lands had been dealt with for the time being.

“Lady Stark? Are you well?” The old knight was the first to notice her indisposition when she remained unmoving.

She released a long breath and opened her eyes. Ignoring it for any longer would do no good, much as she wished she could do differently.

“I believe my labours have started.” She said steadily.

That caught Luwin’s attention, who turned to look at her with raised eyebrows. “You have been having contractions, my lady?” 

That was good. If the two men hadn't noticed it meant that she had done a good job of hiding it. Showing weakness when ruling in her husband's stead would not do. She nodded. 

“For how long?”

“Since before the hearing started. Though I was not sure then that is what it was.”

Another sharp pain overtook her. She exhaled slowly, pressing a hand against her belly. They were becoming more and more frequent.

“And you are certain now?” 

“I think I know what it feels like, maester.” She responded through gritted teeth.

“Of course.” 

The two men were silent. Ser Rodrik looked lost, looking between her and Luwin as if desperately wanting to be told what to do. 

The pain finally subsided and she felt capable of breathing freely again. She sighed.

That was when Catelyn felt her shield begin to crack. She had done well at suppressing her feelings for a long time. It had been easy to do so when there had been so much to deal with and the whole of Winterfell was looking at her for instructions in her husband's absence. Putting it all aside and focusing on running the castle had come naturally. 

But now it was quiet in Ned's solar, and the quiet was dangerous. The four eyes looking at her with concern written over them did not help. Suddenly her throat felt tight.

“I had hoped that lord Stark would have been back in time for the birth.” She admitted quietly.

Her belly had slowly swelled nearly to the point of bursting yet there had been no sight of Ned. Now the babe was ready to come out and her husband was still off fighting the Greyjoys. She had managed to rule Winterfell for him but all her strength seemed to be abandoning her at the prospect of bringing his child forth all alone. Where was his steady presence, his strong hand to hold?

Maester Luwin shifted closer with his chair. 

“That would have been… ideal.” He said slowly. “But I'm afraid we cannot control the timing of these things, my lady.”

And then she felt a touch on her shoulder. The maester's wrinkly hand giving her a reassuring pat. The gesture reminded her of her lord father.

“All will be well, I am certain. The lord will be back soon enough. And by then you will have a sweet healthy child to present him with.”

“The maester speaks truly, my lady. It is only a matter of time until the uprising is put to an end and lord Stark returns to you.”

Empty words, she knew. No one could say with certainty that any of these things would happen. Yet she was grateful for them all the same. It made her feel like she was not entirely alone.

A nod was the most she could manage. If she spoke more, she feared she would cry and as things stood she needed to reserve her strength for what was to come.

“Ser Rodrik, if you could fetch the lady's handmaiden.”

“At once.” The knight rose immediately, clearly relieved to have something to do.