"Do not profane your daughter by making her a prostitute, so that the land may not become prostituted and full of depravity." -Leviticus 19.
Mary begged her father not to marry her to Robert Baratheon. "I will do everything." She said but he sent her anyway.
Jane was there carrying her train. In spite of being her stepmother, she chose to lower herself for her. Jane had not yet delivered a son and this had put her in a delicate position since her child, unlike her and Elizabeth was not beautiful or healthy. It was whispered her father was already looking for wife number 4.
Mary said the vows, following by the traditional Catholic vows of fidelity and humility to her new husband. Robert was too drunk to understand but he said them either way.
He could barely stand on his two feet but he eyed her with lust. The years had not been too kind on him. He wanted to marry Lyanna Stark but the Targaryen Prince had stolen her from him then Jon Arryn forced him to marry Cersei Lannister.
Marry her. They said. It will be good for ye, they said. Robert didn't care at the time. What was another pretty face from another? As long as he didn't have his Lyanna, he would never be happy and Cersei, he considered her a self-conceited bitch. She was too high and mighty for his taste. He didn't want a woman to tell him what to do, he wanted someone he could command and be there when he needed her to be there, someone who wouldn't complain when he wanted to fuck her. And Gods knew, Cersei Lannister always complained.
Arrogant bitch. He was glad she was dead.
But her death had left a whole on the monarchy. She had given birth four times and only two of those babies had survived the ordeal of childbirth and Cersei, like her last child, had not been lucky.
So that is what he had, one four year old son who took after him in every way except on his eyes, he had his mother's eyes. Green, a color he had come to detest and he joked with his ministers that his boy's eyes reminded him of the color of piss.
The boy also had his mother's temperament. When he made that joke, he had stood up and reproached him, remarking before a room of hundreds that it was him who should be grateful he had inherited something of his mother, otherwise he would be a drunken fool like him.
Robert smacked him. Everyone saw his actions with disapproval but what did he care what the people thought? He was King, wasn't he? And being King could mean he could do whatever the bloody hell he wanted.
He had not lost all of his good looks. He was still fit and while his waist was thickening, he wasn't considered fat by any means. His new bride should consider herself lucky and stop making that grim expression. It wasn't like he was going to rape her -unless she gave him reason to.
Robert slurred through the last line of his vows then put the cape on her shoulders signifying that she was now under his protection. After the High Septon and her Bishop pronounced them man and wife they went to Hampton's Great Hall where they feasted for hours. Her father spared no expense and her stepmother wanted her to have the best experience before the consummation.
"It will be painful the first time but you get used to it." Jane said. She sat in between her stepdaughter and her eldest brother, Edward.
Edward looked at the former Princess with almost no interest. He didn't like attending these social functions but knew there were necessary to keep appearances and show their family's wealth. His attention turned to the King. He was conversing with his new paramour, Ursula Misseldon.
It made him angry. The King had a beautiful woman in his sister; Jane had given him everything, attention, a beautiful daughter. What more could he want?
A son, Edward knew but he refused to acknowledge the reason in his head for once. He didn't care if Jane gave him a hundred daughters, as long as she was safe. Unlike what everyone thought, he was not made of ice. He was aware they called him the Ice Prince, but he did care for his sister. More than any of his other siblings, Jane had a special place in his heart. She was the only one who ever understood him and whom he didn't need to lie or pour his heart out so she would have sympathy for him. She knew what bothered him, and vice-verse he knew what bothered her.
'Poor Jane' He thought. His sister had a good heart but you don't get ahead in this life with a good heart. If Jane didn't give a son to the King soon, he would take his wrath on her the same way he took it on Anne Boleyn.
He turned away from the disgusting view and poured himself more wine. He was interrupted in his merry drinking by the King of Westeros who for some reason thought it interesting to speak to him of all people. "Your Grace." He said. "What an honor. I hope the festivities are to your liking." He said with a smile.
"Aye very much." He said then barked with laughter. "It seems you English are more merrier than the other European folk. You can't find meat and merriment such as these in other places. I might just steal some of these customs!"
"With all pleasure Your Grace, it would be an honor." He said thinking this bloody oaf looked more disgusting when he was eating and talking at the same time.
"I told my small council they must be mad when they told me I had to marry the English wench. She wasn't royal anymore. Her father had disowned her but you know council members, you sure are pushy."
"Yes, we are." Ned said, trying to retain his smile and the vile from escaping from his throat but it was becoming harder with every word the King spurted out and every piece of food he shoveled down his throat.
He slapped the Viscount of Beauchamp's back. "Ha, ha, you really are an annoying kind, false as the weasels from whence you came but somehow we can't kill you, or else who would we have to blame for our mistakes?"
"So, what can you tell me about my new wife? Is she in good in bed as her mother?"
"Pardon Your Grace?"
"Her mother. Yeah, you know the Spanish concubine, everyone knows she and the Prince got to know each other intimately."
Ned did not want to respond. He had nothing but respect for the King's eldest daughter and her mother. He had not known the Princess Dowager personally but his sister had and she always spoke good of the time she was in her service. The way this man spoke of her infuriated him. And it no doubt infuriated her daughter as well who had heard her husband railing insults at her mother.
Jane grasped her hand and gave a warning glance that said no to whatever she wanted to do. Mary stayed put and obeyed, just as the dutiful daughter she always said she was, closing her fists, listening to every word her husband said about her mother.
"The Princess Dowager was a good an honest woman, what she did was out of love, and love is not the best or the most reasonable of emotions. It is proven her marriage to the King was unlawful due to her previous union with his late brother, but that by no means Her Grace's mother was immoral or sinful."
"Eh, fanciful words. We have another good career man in you. I should congratulate the King for marrying into a scheming family, if your hair is as gold as your ambition and your wisdom as well thought of your words, you are on a good path of arse-licking and riches." He drank more. "Queen Catherine's only mistake was in not giving the boy a healthy son. Give the King sons, my father in law always said to my first wife Cersei. Give the King sons and he will love you. Ha! What a hypocrisy. I never heard more idiotic thought. Give Kings sons, he will love you. If that were true I would have been madly in love with Cersei since the start of our marriage. Four babies, you know that? Four babes ..." He sighed then chuckled again. "Four suckling ugly babes yearning for love and their mother's tits. I couldn't touch her after the last, how could I when she was crying and screaming?"
"I can assure you, Your Grace, your new wife is of a tougher sort. No disrespect to your late wife, may God and your Gods preserve her soul."
"Aye, the Gods, bloody lot." He said and Ned thought he heard sadness in his voice but it was gone the next moment when the King screamed for more wine. And his father in law joined him.
Mary drew blood from so much squeezing. She was not marrying a Prince or a King worthy of her but a monster no different than her father. When everyone shouted "To bed! To Bed! To Bed!" Mary had to push back her tears and steel herself.
Her maids helped her undress and put on her a simple nightgown. When her husband came, wearing nothing but his leather pants, she gulped. He took her face in his hands and said there was no one they needed to worry but themselves. They were soothing words but they did nothing to soothe her.
What if this man raped her or tossed her aside like her father did with her mother?
Robert dismissed all of their witnesses. Cranmer, a man she had a deep hatred for, looked at her with equal hatred. He hoped the sinful woman's daughter would learn her lesson and submit to this man. The sooner she did, the more pain she would be spared.
Robert scooped his wife in his arms and dumped her in the bed. He helped her to take off her clothes then took his. He was tender with her and Mary enjoyed it, until he began to be rough and she screamed and he slapped her and told her to be quiet.
"Please, no more." She begged but he slapped her again. She cried harder, closing her eyes shut as she felt the hard length of his passage. She could feel herself fading and she didn't know what she hated more, that he was raping her or that she was starting to enjoy it.