Once upon the winter came

by AnnaSolace

She was not pretty like her little sister, Roslin. Nor was she smart like her other sister, Arwyn. She was not a suitable match, and certainly not for Robb Stark, the Young Wolf. Then why did they chose her? She didn't know, and guess what she didn't even care. The only thing she knew was that they sold her like a piece of meat. And she hated it. Maybe even more than that Stark boy

Pilot

"I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain."

/James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time/

I never really tought over what it meant to be one of Walder Frey daughters. I was just that: one of his daughters. Not so pretty, not so smart and certainly not so important. I guess it was easier that way for me. Of course, I did know about the nasty gossips and how lowly the other noblemen thought about my family. It was just so much easier to pretend not to.

Eventually, I had to face all of it. I knew, how could I not? I just hoped it would happen later. Years later, to be exact. But in these days, time was a precious thing, something that one couldn't allow to waste, especially not someone like me.

So when one of my half-brothers, Lothar came into my room without knocking and said that I had to go down to the main hall in that instant, I knew that the gods didn't like me all that much.

- Fine, I will be there in a minute – answered I, but not too excitedly. Sure, we all knew by now about the bargain between my father and Robb Stark, the Young Wolf but not all of us was thrilled. I was one of them.

For someone who doesn't know me it can seem odd, isn't it? After all he was a decent enough man with noble titles and a huge land in the North, but for me it didn't really matter how loaded he and his family were. Which mattered was that technically everyone in the North hated us, Freys. He was not an exeption. And most importantly I was not somebody's property to be tossed around. I didn't like the idea of it. Me, forced into a marriage which started with mutual hatred. Oh, yes mutual.

I hated the Starks as long as I can remember. It started before my birth. And it was a nasty story, so to speak. Years ago, long before this Stark boy started his rebellion, even before The Rebellion which was led by Robert Baratheon, my mother was betrothed to a Stark. Benjen Stark to be exact.

My lady mother, Bethany of house Rosby never really met him. It was an arranged marriage as most of the marriages are. Lord Rickard Stark and my mother's father were good friends, tht's why they wanted to join their houses. Obviously it didn't happen, since Benjen Stark decided he was above my mother and didn't want to take her as a wife, so he packed his belongings one night and headed to the Wall. My grandfather took that as a huge insult – which it really was – and gave her daughter's hand for the first man who set his eyes on her. It happened to be the old bastard, Walder Frey, but he didn't really care. So they got married, and my mother became the new Lady of the Twins. Lady Bethany Frey. No wonder why he loathed the Starks.

She was an honorable woman tough, and never said anything against them. That only made it worse. As a child when I heard this story the forst time I didn't understand. Why would anybody reject my lovely, caring, beautiful mother who sang so sweetly that the birds went silent every time she started a song. I didn't get it.

I sighed and closed my eyes. I had to get going, if I didn't want to anger my father. So I shove away the thoughts of the past and tried to smile gently. It didn't really work, but at least I tried. Then I headed downstairs.

Now I wish I didn't. That move was which made everything so messed up.