Catelyn

Prince Aelar of the Sunset Isles had taken residence in the lord's quarters, the spacious room now reflecting the demeanor of its new master. The walls were adorned with banners bearing his sigil, a golden leviathan on a field of black. The warm hearth fire danced and flickered, casting an ominous glow on his triumphant smirk as he lounged on the bed draped in furs and silk.

The night was heavy, burdened with the smoky remnants of the day's gruesome battle and the unsettling cries of the prisoners echoing through the stone halls. Aelar’s icy gaze wandered to the cold stone of the heart tree outside the window. His anticipation mounted. The Stark woman was coming.

The heavy wooden door creaked open. Lady Catelyn Stark stepped in, her posture rigid, her eyes flickering with a mix of defiance and dread. Her lips were set in a tight line, and her hands were clenched at her sides.

Aelar watched her, allowing a predatory smile to curl up at the corner of his mouth. He rose from the bed, his armor now replaced by a rich black tunic that did little to mask the power of his build. He gestured for her to come closer. "Lady Stark," he drawled, his voice echoing ominously in the room. "I'm delighted you could join me."

"You said it's a matter of life and ," she said, her voice faltering ever so slightly. She did not move from her spot near the door.

Aelar chuckled, his eyes narrowing. "Indeed, it is. Please, take a seat," he said, pointing to a chair next to the fire. She hesitated but complied, her gaze never leaving him. He reveled in the fear he saw in her eyes, a stark contrast to her attempt at maintaining a stoic facade.

He strode over to the table, poured two glasses of Dornish red, and then approached her. Offering her a glass, he said, "It's a fine vintage. I’m sure you’d enjoy it."

Catelyn ignored the wine and cut to the chase, "Why have you summoned me, Prince Aelar?"

The prince set the untouched glass on the table. His grin faded, replaced with a dangerous solemnity. He leaned close to her, his icy gaze boring into hers. "You've always known, Lady Stark. I want you."

Her eyes widened, but she said nothing.

"But it's more than that," he continued, "I could take you, but where's the satisfaction in that? I want you to come to me willingly."

"And if I don't?" Catelyn asked, her voice steady.

His eyes darkened, "Then I'm afraid your husband and sons will find their stay in my dungeons rather... uncomfortable."

The threat hung in the air between them, as cold and brutal as the winter winds outside. Aelar leaned back, watching the horror dawn in Catelyn's eyes. His dark grin returned. "The choice is yours, Lady Stark. What is your decision?"