My favourite couple in game of thrones!
Maybe a series of one shots but I haven't decided yet
Roslin could not begin to fathom what had occurred the previous night. Despite her knowledge of what would transpire she never thought her father was serious. How could he? Was he mad? He must be.
The young Frey wept occasionally during her wedding ceremony and even continued to do so as Edmure proceeded to bed her. He had smiled at her softly and whispered words of reassurance as he thought that her tears were due to her nerves… alas no. If only it was that simple. The lord Tully had been kind and gentle with her and yet Roslin felt pain. Not physical but a pain in her heart. She cursed her father. How could he burden her with such information? Not only that but the implications of his actions…binding her to the man whos family he slaughtered… on his own daughter's wedding night. To violate the most sacred tradition…the guest right. To murder those whom you have broken bread with… It is unheard of!
Roslin's stomach had churned and clenched as she feared how Edmure would react when he found out. The morning arrived and her father's men came charging into the bedchamber. First Edmure was aghast at the lack of privacy and the awful handling of his new bride's honour. The men barely allowed the pair to get dressed before they regaled the tale of murder. They did not miss a single detail and relished each word with such glee. Roslin felt bile rise at the back of her throat as she imagined Rob Stark's body with the head of his own wolf. Such evil deeds! Such deception! Roslin knew her father was damned. The gods would make sure of that.
Edmure's reaction confirmed all of Roslin's worst fears.
He first went into shock but that was quickly overtaken by unbridled rage. He lunged at the men and he single handedly left then all unconscious on the stone flagged floor. It was only when more men arrived un-announced was Edmure subdued.
Roslin watched on with tears rolling down her cheeks. She softly shook her head and continuously muttered her apologies as she backed away from Edmure. The young girl thought she was going to die then and there as her new husband looked her with such anger… it was as she herself had driven the knife through each of his family member. The betrayal that resonated deep in his green eyes left her breathless. He began to scream and curse at her and that is the last Roslin saw of him as he was dragged away.
"It is time to be re-united with your precious sister and the young wolf," the men jeered.
The moment they disappeared Roslin's legs gave way and she collapsed onto the floor. Edmure screaming curses and threats echoed loudly down the halls and Roslin began to cry uncontrollably. This was a bad dream! It had to be.
()()()()()()()()
Roslin was not sure how long she sat alone… but she noticed that the sun had already moved halfway across the sky. Her head throbbed from all her crying. Numb, Roslin rose and as she passed a mirror she saw that her cheeks were stained with the hot trails that her tears had left behind. Her eyes were puffy and blood shot.
Roslin could not stomach anything.
Her despair was slowly fading into anger. How could her father do something so disgusting? How could he bring such disgrace to the house! Siding with the Lancesters! She was glad she had shed the name of Frey. It repulsed her now.
Hands clenched, Roslin stormed out of the bedchamber without a second thought. Servants bowed as she sped down the halls. Roslin tried to ignore the buckets of blood stained sand which they carried.
Upon reaching the main hall, Roslin found Roose Bolton existing and he was expressionless as ever. Their eyes met for a moment and she glared at him. He laughed lightly and Roslin wanted nothing more than to lunge at him. Yet there were more processing maters therefore she brushed past Bolton.
The main hall was submerged in darkness as no candles burned. She spotted her father sitting at the dias.
Roslin felt her blood boil as she watched her father's knife slice into fresh bread and meat. Walder Frey raised his head as he heard the fast footfall. He barely acknowledged her presence though and instead sipped at his wine.
Roslin arrived in front of her father, with her hands balled into fists. "How can you dine in this hall?" she seethed.
Lord Walder taunted her by ungracefully guiding more meat and bread into his mouth.
Much to Roslin's surprise she felt fresh tears burn her eyes. She gritted her teeth. "You are a cowardly man without a shred of honour, bravery or dignity!"
Walder Frey looked up then with a serious expression. "Watch your tongue."
Roslin could not check the impulse. "Why? Will you murder me too?"
The old man saw the servant's eyes bulging. "Get out!" he ordered and the maids immediately scurried out of the hall, leaving only father and daughter.
Roslin could not believe that she was made from a part of this monster. "Did you not even spare a thought to saving the life of your wife?!"
Walder Frey found himself chuckling.
Roslin felt sick. "You are a disgusting old man that weds girls as young as his own daughters, against their will."
Lord Frey stabbed his knife into the table. "Shut up you little bitch."
With courage, Roslin did not know she possessed, she marched onto the dias and found herself standing directly beside her father's throne. "You are not worthy of any title!" Roslin screamed. "You will never be the true lord of Riverrun!"
All of a sudden Roslin felt something hard and metal against her face. She cried out and before Roslin knew it she found herself on the floor. Shocked, the young girl held her face as pain seared through it. She gazed up at her father then. His raised hand still held his goblet, the content of which had spilled and stained her dress.
Walder Frey's features were contorted with rage. Roslin had always known that her father yearned for recognition and respect. He felt that everyone looked down on him…which they did….and now she herself did.
Lord Frey said nothing to his daughter and instead returned to his plate.
()()()()()()()()
The sun had long since set and darkness shrouded the bedchamber, to which Roslin returned. In her despair she could not find it in with herself to light the candles. No… to sit in light was a luxury… she did not deserve warmth.
In her heart Roslin now felt like a Tully… but she would always be a Frey… "I am a Tully," Roslin desperately whispered, there was nothing she wanted more.
Roslin subconsciously brought a hand to her lips and flinched as a wave of pain seared through them. She had barely managed to stem the flow of blood after her father had struck her. The cut had healed over but left an unsightly raised area and the pain was excruciating anytime she would touch her lips.
The wind blew harsh and fast outside and Roslin heard the trees moan. There was also the constant pounding of heavy rain which made her shiver.
She felt so alone.
Suddenly she remembered. Her husband… How could she go to him?
Yet Edmure was all she had now.
Without sparing a second to thought Roslin immediately left her chamber to find Edmure. She did not dwell on the implications of such a visit. If she thought too long then she would never leave their marital bedchamber. This confrontation had to occur at some point…after all, their souls were bound by marriage.
Upon investigation Roslin found that the Lord Tully was being held captive in the dungeons. She forced a maid to take her there, on the promise that Roslin would shoulder all the blame. Roslin's delicate frame began to shake as the heat began to seep away from the surroundings as she descended into the dungeons. The entire area was cold and damp. The rain had somehow filtered through and the flagstones were slick with water. Roslin slipped on occasion and she had to brace herself against the damp walls. Only dim candle light led her way
Quickly, Roslin spotted the two guards posted in front of the only occupied cell. The maid bid a hasty farewell and did not wait for the young Lady's reply.
Roslin breathed in deeply before she stood tall and marched straight towards the two giant men.
They did not startle when she arrived….Roslin found this odd but she did not comment. Without a word they allowed her to enter the cell. The prisoner sat hunched on a pallet in the far corner. Roslin gasped silently. His eyes were sunken and his hair wild. He was shivering.
Edmure heard faint footfalls. Your mind is deceiving you...Edmure you fool. How can I go mad so soon?
However when he raised his head, he saw a small figure standing in front of him.
Frey!
Roslin took a step back as he threw a glare her way.
"I do not wish to see you," Edmure spoke steadily as he tried to maintain his composure.
"My lord," she begged.
Edmure suddenly rose. "Leave!" he demanded.
Edmure's limbs had grown weak due to the deprivation of food therefore he stumbled.
Roslin rushed forward to aid him.
However Edmure threw out his hand. "I said leave me!"
There was a sicken sound then. Even the guards found themselves turning.
Edmure looked aghast. He turned sharply as he steadied his feet. How could have struck a women?….his wife!
"Roslin…" He began as he tried to apologise but Roslin, holding back tears made a move to leave.
All of a sudden the bars slammed shut and the entire cell vibrated. The sound made Roslin jump and fear sprang in her heart. She raced to the steel door to see the guards grinning and her. "What is the meaning of this?" Roslin demanded.
The one with the smug smile answered. "Lord Frey knew you would visit."
Roslin furrowed her brow. "I do not understand."
"You are a Tully now," the other simply remarked.
The pair took great pleasure in her shock and the fear that resonated in her eyes. Without another word they began to move away.
Suddenly anger gripped her heart. Roslin slammed her hands hard against the steel bars and once again they rattled loudly. "And I am proud to be!" she screamed after them as they disappeared from view, "…better that than a filthy Frey!"
Edmure watched on with utter astonishment at his young bride's outburst. She was so dainty and slender - A lady in the truest form. However here, she found herself, locked in a dank dungeon and yet she possessed true courage and a steely conviction. How could Edmure direct his rage at her? She was all of nineteen. She had no involvement. Even with her knowledge of the plan to massacre his family what could she have done?
She is a Tully.
"Lady Roslin," he called out then.
Roslin froze. Just hearing her husband call her name caused her breath to leave her. Suddenly her anger dissipated and it was replaced with worry.
He called out to her again and it was only then did she slowly turn.
He gave her a reassuring smile. "Please come."
Roslin's eyes were wide and frightened but she took a few paces towards Edmure. However when she came into the path of the candle light he gasped.
His eyes widened with horror. "Roslin I cannot believe I…"
Roslin only now registered the copper taste in her mouth so she quickly brought her hand to her lips. The cut must have re-opened.
Edmure hastily moved towards his bride as his stomach turned at the sight of blood dripping from her lips.
Roslin shook her head. "This is not your doing but my fathers."
Edmure urgently took Roslin by the hand and guided her to the pallet, where he sat her down. He tore a rag from his cloak but not before he retrieved a bowl of water which sat on the stone floor.
Gently, Edmure gripped Roslin's chin. He soaked the rag in water and brought it to her lips as he tried to stem the flow of blood.
Roslin was surprised by his tenderness. She found herself staring into his eyes as he worked intently. There was deep sorrow in them…Roslin was not sure if it was because of her current state or that he was pondering on what he had lost – Hopefully both.
Eventually Roslin felt her lips heal and so Edmure discarded the bloodied rag into the bowl, causing the water to stain red.
"My dearest Roslin," he whispered as he pressed his lips to her forehead.
Such tenderness caused Roslin to begin weeping therefore Edmure gathered her up into his arms. The Lord Tully held his bride tightly to his chest.
"I apologise from the bottom of my heart," he mumbled into her ear.
"It is I who should be seeking your forgiveness," Roslin sobbed.
Edmure gently stroked her hair. "What foolishness you speak…my lady Tully"
()()()()()
No matter how hard Edmure tried he could not fall into slumber. Every time he would close his eyes he would see the corpse of Catelyn and the mutilated body of Rob. Edmure did not allow himself to ponder on what he had lost…after all he would surely go mad. Falling into despair would not help him now. He needed to maneuver himself into a better position, to seek his revenge. He had to forget for now and focus on his one ray of hope, Blackfish. Edmure smiled into the darkness. Brynden
Suddenly a body stirred beside him. Edmure looked down to see Roslin shifting uncomfortably. They had both huddled underneath his cloak and yet although Edmure was warm, her teeth would not stop chattering. The pallet on which they lay was extremely hard and Roslin's sleep was restless.
Edmure drew his wife closer until her back met his chest. Well…perhaps two rays of hope. Edmure felt her delicate frame shake, incessantly. However his body heat soon caused her shaking to subside. We are bound together - She and I.
It was only now that Edmure realised…they were one. They would both suffer together. Perhaps one day they would share in joy together. If they lived long enough that is…
Edmure brought a gentle hand to stroke away the strands of hair which covered Roslin's face. He tucked them behind her ear… such a pretty lioness. How had she become his whole world in a day?
Roslin stirred then. "My lord," she mumbled.
This brought Edmure out of his thoughts and he found that he was staring at her.
Roslin had turned in his arms and was blinking sleepily up at him. "You need to rest my lord," she whispered.
Edmure smiled as Roslin's concern warmed his heart. "I will. You need not worry."
Roslin closed her eyes then. "I cannot help but worry my lord."
At this he held her tighter. "My name is Edmure."
"Sorry my lord," she mumbled and the last thing Roslin heard was his light laughter`.