The Tully Sisters

Hundreds of miles north of the city where her daughters find themselves in a struggle to win a prince's attention, their mother just woke up from a series of colourful dreams that features the very same man. The pale sun of the North cast its weak rays over Catelyn Tully's face, compelling her eyes to open. She relished her ability to sleep in now. Her husband was a principled man who always woke up early, and while he tried to be discreet, for every day of their two - decade long marriage, he had always managed to disrupt her sleep. But now, he was in the South, and no one could disturb her sleep.

Catelyn's bright blue eyes fluttered open. And, as it has been for the past three months, a sharp pain stabbed her heart the moment she came to her senses. Lyonel. The name etched itself into her soul, over and over again. Three months of loneliness... and betrayal. When she first learned she was with child, Catelyn was elated, and she eagerly counted the days when Lyonel would come down from his sojourn in the Wall, so she could deliver him the news in person. It took a month for her to learn that on his trip South, Lyonel had opted to avoid Winterfell and use a boat for his travels. Of course, she could very well understand why he did what he did. Any young man would panic at finding himself an expectant father, especially when the mother was married to the second most powerful man in the realm and his future mother - by - law to boot. Still, despite all these rational explanations, Catelyn still ached for the absent prince's company.

And, as always, Catelyn employed the same methods to calm herself down. Her hands that wiped the sleep away from her eyes crept downwards, past her neck, past the breasts that were once more getting bigger in preparation to breastfeed, to her once - flat stomach, where now a small bump could be felt. Lyonel's child, she thought, and warmth flooded her body. His first child! Of course for her this would be her sixth child, but that mattered little. This was the first child she will have with a man who actually made her feel things. The thought inevitably cheered her up, as it did for the past three months without fail, and she was a much happier woman when she crawled out of her bed.

Once she got ready for the day, Catelyn put on a green dress and set out for a late breakfast, the exposed tops of her breasts bouncing as she climbed down the stairs. She had never been bold enough to wear such things before, but her recent escapades had imbued her with a new sense of confidence. If anyone were to ask her of her fashion choices, she could simply explain it by pointing out the changes in her body due to her pregnancy, but no one would dare to ask such questions from her anyway.

In the mess hall, at one end of a wooden table sat the remainder of her family, those who didn't go South with her husband. Her eldest Robb was talking animatedly to Maester Luwin about filling in all the stores emptied by the royal visit. Her youngest Rickon and their ward, Theon Greyjoy were gorging themselves, the latter only paying the barest of attention to the ongoing conversation. On the opposite side of the table, Robb's wife, Alys Karstark, unenthusiastically forked her food, dark rings shadowing her grey eyes. Poor girl, Catelyn thought while entering the room. She knew that their babe was a handful, keeping Alys up all night, while Robb, good intentioned he may be, was as clumsy with children as his father is, and has left the child rearing solely to his wife.

When Catelyn entered the room, she was met with a series of small bows and greetings, before the men went back to their discussions. Catelyn sat next to her daughter - by - law, who gave her a watery smile.

Poor girl, Catelyn thought as another pang sympathy towards the once lively girl stabbed at her. Catelyn wondered how lucky she was, for, at least after decades of unfulfilling marital life, she was able to meet and spend at least a few days with a real man and got to know what real joy was. Alys, on the other hand, seemed to have been consigned to an unhappy marriage, like what most women have to put up with. Not for the first time, Catelyn wondered at the singular luck of her daughter Sansa.

Catelyn was dragged out of her thoughts by the sound of a low growling, primitive, hair raising, bone rattling.

"Grey Wind... Down boy!" Robb ordered.

It was indeed the aptly named grey direwolf, usually so placid and content to rest under the table, that has now come out of his usual abode and was growling at a terrified maid that had just entered the hall with Catelyn's breakfast.

"Grey Wind! Down or we'll have to keep you out with Shaggydog!"

Robb's warning however, remained unheeded, as the wolf's gold eyes scarcely left the maid. When she took her first step, the wolf jumped with a blur. The next few seconds happened too quick for her eyes, as her hands grabbed her womb to protect any harm that might befell it, and her eyes closed involuntarily. When she opened them, the maid and the breakfast were both on the floor. Robb was futilely trying to drag the direwolf out, but it refused to budge, it's snout intently directed at the spilled breakfast. On the opposite side of the wolf, Maester Luwin was also peering at it. The pair were oddly similar, deathly calm and cloaked in grey. When the maester straightened himself, his face too seemed grey, and for the first time he looked his age.

"Let go of the beast my lord. It has done us a great service."

"Maester?"

"The breakfast... contained something that should not be there."

"Poison?" Theon queried, his attention fully away from his meal for the first time.

"I - I believe so," the shaken maester stumbled over his words. "I... I must conduct some experiments in order to be certain. It must be a very deceitful one, to avoid the naked senses, but beasts are more keen of sense than any human could hope for..."

Silence filled the room as the occupants tried to digest the information. Rickon's first sob broke the spell.

Robb grabbed the maid by her arm. "I will go to the kitchens immediately. Theon, go and make sure to close all exits out of the castle."

"Aye."

"And mother - mother, where are you going?"

But Catelyn was already walking up the stairs that she had just come down from, to go to her rooms as quickly as possible in order to pack. She loved Robb for doing his best, but only one man can give her solace now. She had done her best to give Lyonel the space he seemed to have needed, but he can't play the boy anymore. Someone had just made an attempt on their child's life, and he must know of it. Catelyn Tully will have to go to King's Landing.

Just as the assassination attempt on Catelyn Tully's unborn babe failed, hundreds of leagues to the Southeast, her sister, Lysa Tully, stood at the window of her room, her features reverting to their usual, hard and bitter expression. Outside was a sea of mist and mountains and waterfalls. The beauty of the Vale was captivating, but for Lysa it all simply felt like an elaborate trap to keep her stuck behind her late husband's castle.

In her hand was a scrap of parchment, a letter she had received just this morning, though not from a raven. There were more discreet methods for words of such importance. Sighing, Lysa looked down at the now crumpled letter which contained an unsatisfactory number of words written in beautiful script, almost feminine, something for which the writer was teased as a child but which she had always adored. She read the letter for the umpteenth time this morning;

**Love,

Your gift was received and put to good use. Thank You. Will return to the Vale as soon as chance permits me. You know what to do with the letter.**

Lysa smiled a wry smile. She always wanted to keep the letters as a reminder, though Petyr had sternly forbidden that. If he was careless in at least one of his letters, she would have kept them, but in each and every letter he made a diligent reminder to her, depriving her of that loophole. Then again, doesn't she love Petyr specially for this damned cleverness of his? And so, she threw the letter into the fire.

Lysa then began to get ready for the day. She was to hold court today, and so picked a dress of light blue, Arryn, colour. She hated any ties to that cursed dead husband of hers, but it was an important reminder to the louts at courts of why they should obey her.

Lysa got in front of the mirror as she dressed herself, trying not to look at herself too hard. She had always been self-conscious of her older sister, and as the years passed on, the more time's ravages impacted her body. She was always shorter than Cat, her eyes less vibrant blue and her hair less vibrant red and scrawny on top of them as well. However, while her sister was able to maintain her figure (except for the inevitable growth in the bust) for the most part, Lysa's multiple pregnancies had made her stout as well, leaving a layer a fat on her thighs, ass, and yes, some even in her stomach too. Her greatest change was in her breasts, however. Always self-conscious of her flatness, nearly two decades of constant breastfeeding had enlarged her breasts to massive proportions, each the twice the size of her head, capped by two permanently erect, red nipples, which have become so used to her lifestyle that they are always leaking some milk, causing her to wear extra padding on her breasts so that they don't make visible stains on every dress she wears.

Just as she had finished wearing, the door to the room opened and a pale shape sneaked in. Only one person in the kingdom dared to enter her room without permission.

"I'm hungry!" a voice whined, confirming Lysa's guess.

"Of course you are, my sweet boy!" Lysa said, turning around with the adoring smile she always greets her son with.

Robert Arryn was a weak boy who grew up to be a weak man of eighteen years. While he now eats some thin gruel once a day, mother's milk remained his favourite, and it showed. Robert was quite short and very thin for his years with very pale skin, delicate like a girl. While a mop of brown hair grew atop his head and curled down to his shoulders, every other inch of his skin remained hairless, covered in the smoothest silk money could afford. Two large brown eyes peered out from his face, always opened a size too wide due to bad eyesight, though his mother claims it is because her son always looks at the world with a permanent sense of wonder.

Her son now sat on her bed, jumping on it with excitement, eager for his taboo meal

Lysa sat beside him while popping a tit out of her dress, a move that came without much need to think after nearly two decades of breastfeeding. He latched on to her nipple like a hungry hatchling, sucking on it deeply. Soon enough, her son's little cock stood erect through his clothes, a recent development that would have disturbed Lysa, if not for her extraordinary skills to remain oblivious to everything that inconveniences her. With no idea of what is happening with his own body and no external explanation to sought it out for him, Robert did what felt natural to him, thrusting into the air repeatedly before, finally, stained the blue silk of his trousers.

Satisfied, Robert latched off the tit, crawled under the sheets of his mother's bed and began his first nap of the day. Lysa wiped the sweat his son had worked himself to, kissed his brow and began her journey to the court downstairs. Her life, with the exception of one crucial person, was complete. Once he was here, she would finally be able to get the life she has always deserved.