The screams and cries were getting louder and louder. This time Edmure couldn't ignore them. Laying in his bed next to his young bride Roslin, doubt in him began to grow. She was looking at him terrified and crying. "Roslin... Tell me what's happening, tell me now." His voice was sour and his face still. "They made me do it... They forced me... I didn't want too.." Footsteps could be heard, coming closer and closer to the bedroom. "Doing what? What do you mean Roslin?!" He was now afraid, not angry, afraid. "I am so sorry Edmure, so sorry..."
The door opened and ten Frey men entered: "Your sister's dead, her son's dead, now you're gonna spend the end of your wedding night in a cell. Sorry Roslin but you're no longer Lady of Riverrun, old Walder is." The men took him and tied him. He didnt even try to defend himself. The shock was too big... He had never felt such sadness and despair inside him... Never. For the while he forgot what was happening, that he was put in a dungeon, alone, in the cold of the night. He could only thought about Catelyn. They hadn't mentioned Brynden, maybe was he still alive. He remembered the times in Riverrun when they were children, how they used to swim in the rivers, playing with Lysa and Petyr. How everything had changed when the war began, when Catelyn and Lysa left for the first time. He was alone without his mother and sisters but only his father for company... He wasn't unhappy but he was lonely. And now all alone in his cell he could only thought about them, Cat, Lysa, his father... Lysa and him had been very close for a while, Cat being his father's favorite, they often stayed alone in Riverrun, teaching him how to swim, reading him stories etc. She was now a broken woman, broken by all her miscarriages and the deep bitterness she had for their father. She would never forgive him. Would he ever see her again? He was now the only one left of the Tullys of Riverrun. I must live, if not for me, for my family's honor, it's my duty. He had never felt more Tully than at this moment, when the pain became a part of him.
He thought about Roslin too. She said she knew, they had forced her. Edmure was young but he knew how to recognize an honest word. And she was. They were doomed now, doomed to a life of grief and mourning, a life together: they had made a vow in front of the septon. Would he live forever like this, prisoner in a dark cell with death as only companion ? Make this stop, I beg you make this stop. He didn't even know who he was talking to, maybe the gods, maybe his father... He was half naked with only a thin shirt to cover him. The stones were as cold as ice and his blood burnt him from inside. The night was only beginning and the short time he had had with his wife had been such a pleasure... She was scared yes, but also sweet and loving: he hoped he hadn't hurt her too much.
Now he only had to wait. Wait for what? He didn't know. For death to come for him? Death was already all around him. For dawn? Maybe. Maybe all that had only been a dream, and he would wake up in his bed next to Roslin smiling at him. But in the Riverlands they said that to recognize if you were dreaming or not you only had to see if you could smell. And the smell of blood, sweat and death was all around him, poisoning his lungs softly.
The only thought that could make him feel better was the vision of peaceful Riverrun. They had made a song about it "When that old river runs past your eyes to wash off the dirt on the riverside, go to the water so very near,the river will be your eyes and ears". He only had to close his eyes to see the rivers, to hear the soft waves on the shore and the sweet melody of this song. He hated singers but this one... The exception that confirmed the rule.
He was crying now. How odd was it to notice that the tears rolling on his cheek were fresh water and not salt water. Riverrun is with me, wherever I go. That's not blood that runs in my veins, that's the waters of Riverrun.
There was a small window in the cell and the pale silver light of the mood with the red flames from the battlefield allowed him to see the River: the Greenfork. It was not the waters of Riverrun but it was water and what is best for a trout, thought it, than clear and calm water. The only peaceful element of the landscape. Here to ease my mind.
He slowly closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to come for him. But as the screams became louder and louder, painful reality came back to him, as an arrow in his stomach. The last time he had seen them they were happy, laughing with him during the bedding ceremony. Would they show him the bodies? It was the most difficult thought of the night, he wanted to remember the laughs, the smiles and not the damaged bodies of Robb his nephew, the flesh of his flesh, and of his sister. Family, duty, honor. Family comes always first thought he, as he once again closed his eyes to try to find some sleep.