Date: 2008-01-31 01:12 am (UTC)
Catelyn sat beside Ned, still watching Sansa. The girl was right; Catelyn could divine nothing through that smile. Her daughter didn't seem to be actively miserable, at least, though that was a small enough mercy; the fact that neither she nor Arya were in immediate physical danger here was something Catelyn counted as a much larger mercy.

She looked at Ned. "It is peaceful, in a way," she said. Were Cersei still around, that would be another story, but as she wasn't, peace was more or less enforced. Part of her wanted to ask after the Imp (if only so she could satisfy herself he wasn't abusing her daughter), but Sansa would never tell her if he was, and in any case it was bound to be an awkward question. Had it just been herself and Sansa, she might have done so, but she felt certain Sansa would give no real answer at all with her father present. "I am glad you find it so, too. Glad for both you and Arya." Arya, who was so unlike her sister; they couldn't be more different if they tried. But they were both here now, and safe, and that counted for a very great deal.
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