"My daughter Roslin, my precious little blossom." Lord Walder said to Edmure before the two were wed. And precious she was, her wavy chestnut hair framing her delicate face and curves down to her hips as she entered the hall, shuffling towards him to be married. Edmure couldn't believe his luck, marrying such a comely, dainty young woman; he only hoped he was good enough for her. A thought that never crossed his mind.
But all of that was a memory of a different man.
Jamie Lannister promised to bring Roslin and their child to him once he was born, but what's a kingslayer's promise worth? Was it worth surrendering Riverrun? Even a fool would say no. Edmure didn't trust the Lannister farther than he could throw him, and the food they were feeding the captive didn't exactly make him feel as strong as the Mountain. But with King Robb dead, the Frey's holding Roslin, and Roose Bolton as Warden of the North there was no other option, the Lord of Riverrun had to make a decision. To be the Lannister's captive and hand over the lands he called his home.
Casterly Rock wasn't a terrible place to be held captive, he was able to roam about almost freely, not that the people were nice. But it was a better life than standing at the gallows day in and day out at the hands of his wife's kin. Somedays it didn't seem like it all happened to him, another man in another story.
Edmure Tully pondered all this in his bedchambers on a cool morning, wondering just how much longer Roslin had until she pushed the child from her body, and if a kingslayer could be as trustworthy as any honest man.
"My lord, you are needed in the Great Hall." one of the servants informed, interrupting his train of thought.
"For what exactly?"
"I'm not sure my lord, I just follow orders." tonelessly the boy responded.
Edmure reluctantly entered the Hall, expecting Damion the castellan of Casterly Rock, for he was the only one with any power around here. Instead he saw his wife carrying a bundle of blankets.
"Roslin?" Edmure questioned. He couldn't believe she was here. Without a letter or word of her arrival he assumed he was in one of his many dreams, they always ended with him reaching out to touch her and Roslin disappearing into smoke.
"My lord.." she softly spoke, there was a fear in her voice, as if he would be angry with her. He quickly crossed the hall and gently touched her face. "My Roslin, back to me." He kissed her passionately and broke away when he heard a baby cry, forgetting they were not alone. In her arms laid a child with auburn hair and big brown eyes.
"A girl, I haven't named her. The septons say it's bad luck to name a child before their second name day." more confidence in her voice this time, a mother's confidence.
"A girl." Edmure whispered with a smile breaking across his face. He gathered the babe in his arms and ever so softly planted a kiss on her forehead.
With wars, rape, thievery, and the seven know what else, Edmure Tully couldn't be happier as a captive. He was finally with the woman he loved and the baby they made. Maybe the kingslayer wasn't as untrustworthy as he believed. Life wasn't the stories the septas told, Lord Tully knew that. It was frightening and difficult, sometimes it forces you to make decisions you don't want to; but sometimes there were moments like these that reminded him that life can feel like a fairy tale and the pain is worth it.