Episode 8 here we go! The calm before the storm.
As ever, I don't own any of the characters other than Torrhen, I only play around with them a bit and make them dance my own tune.
Talisa was smiling as she woke up with an ache between her legs. Robb hadn't let her go a night without him since she told him she was pregnant, and she loved it. She noticed as she got dressed for the day that Robb wasn't in the tent with her, shrugging it off as duties she made her way over to her horse, leaving the packing up to the soldiers.
She still hadn't seen Robb as they set off for the day's march. Finding Roose Bolton she rode up to him. "Lord Bolton, have you seen the King today?" She asked.
"Why yes, my Queen." He said, his voice as calm as ever. "He took some men with him early this morning to sort out a group of outlaws, he should be with us again by the end of the day.
Disappointed he hadn't woken her, she shrugged it off and rode ahead, eager to make camp again so that she could be with her husband once more.
Arya had somehow managed to convince him to train her with a sword, even at his insistence that live steel was too dangerous. She was persuasive and stubborn though, so he borrowed a sword from Joran and handed it to her, surprised at how naturally Arya held it.
"Have you been having lessons?" Torrhen asked.
"I had a dancing master back in King's Landing." Arya told him. "Syrio Forel, the First Sword of Braavos!"
"Impressive." Torrhen admitted, before turning to grin at her evilly. "But what did he teach you?"
Arya lunged with the sword, and Torrhen let her attack him, parrying all of her blows and correcting her when she did something wrong. An hour passed and they were both fairly tired out.
"You did well, I tell you what if you ride with me back to Harrenhal to see Mother we can practice every day, morning and night." Torrhen told her, taking the sword back and handing it to Joran.
"Really?" Arya exclaimed. Torrhen nodded, but wasn't prepared for Arya to come running at him quickly and tackling him to the floor in a hug. Laughing, he shoved her off.
"Come, if we make good speed today we may be able to see the Twins." He told her.
"Will we?"
"Aye, we've come up the Kingsroad side of the Trident to make better time, so we should be able to see the camp on the other side of the river too if they're there." Torrhen explained, and they both jumped on their horse, and led the party onwards towards Robb.
It was Sansa's wedding day, and Shae and a handful of other handmaidens were fussing around to get her ready when a knock came from the door. Shae went to answer it. Sansa stood to face her soon to be husband as the handmaidens left.
"Lady Sansa." He said.
"You look very handsome, my lord." Sansa said smiling, trying to be nice.
"Oh, yes. The husband of your dreams." Tyrion joked. "But you do look glorious." He said. "Perhaps we could have a moment alone. Do you mind? Podrick, could you escort Lady Stark's handmaiden?" He asked, and Shae left with Tyrion's squire. "My lady, I want you to know I didn't ask for this."
"I hope I will not disappoint you, my lord." Sansa said.
"No, don't, you don't have to speak to me as a prisoner anymore. You won't be a prisoner after today, you'll be my wife." He told her. "I suppose that's a different kind of prison. I just wanted to say- I'm just trying to say very badly- I just- just want to say I know how you feel." He said, stumbling on his words.
"I doubt that very much, my lord." Sansa admitted.
"You're right, I have no idea how you feel, and you have no idea how I feel. But I promise you one thing, my lady, I won't ever hurt you." He tried to reassure her, taking her hand. "Do you drink wine?" He asked.
"When I have to." Sansa told him.
"Well, today you have to." He nodded smiling, bringing a laugh to Sansa as they made their way to the Sept of Baelor.
Stannis Baratheon walked into the bedroom where Melisandre had tied Gendry up and taken his blood with leeches. Melisandre approached her king with the bowl the leeches were in, and one by one he threw the leeches into the flames, naming his would be victims as he went.
"The usurper Robb Stark. The usurper Balon Greyjoy. The usurper Joffrey Baratheon."
Bran was talking to Jojen in his room when the bells rang out. Not long afterwards Osha came bursting into the room with Hodor, Mira and Rickon.
"The castle is surrounded; we have to leave. Now." She told him, pushing Hodor to gather him up and they ran down the stairs.
"What's going on?" Bran asked. "Who is attacking us?"
"How am I meant to know." Osha snapped. "All I know is your brother told me to get you out if the castle was to fall again, and we don't have the men to fight these ones off."
They ran into the Godswood, and once they were joined by the two direwolves they followed the path that Torrhen had entered Winterfell in to liberate it from Ironborn.
It was only once they were far enough away that Bran dared to look back at his home, and as he did he recognised the banners that the attackers were carrying. "Those are Bolton banners, Bolton men." Bran muttered darkly.
It was a disaster, Sansa was married to the imp, and this feast just made her feel so much worse. She missed home, where Torrhen would tease her, Arya would annoy her and she could sing to little Rickon. She missed her mother, Robb and Bran. She even missed Maester Luwin for some reason. Sansa looked over at Tyrion and saw that he seemed to be making faces in the reflection of a bowl. He then drank even more wine, after having enough to put even King Robert to sleep she thought, but it was when he spilled some all over himself that she had had enough for her handle for now.
"Will you pardon me, my lord? Of course." Sansa asked him.
"Of course. En- enjoy." Tyrion slurred. And Sansa stood, ready to go and talk to Mira Forrester who was up on the veranda. She passed Varys on the way who bowed to her respectfully, but she finally made it away.
"Lady Mira, may I have a word?" Sansa asked.
"Of course Lady Sansa." Mira said kindly, walking with her.
"Can you get word to Torrhen? Tell him what's happening here and that I'm scared and want to go home." Sansa said, almost in tears.
"Shhh Lady Sansa." Mira soothed. "It'll be alright I promise; I will do all I can." She whispered.
"Thank you." Sansa said, she was about to say more but they were interrupted by Joffrey. Excusing herself, Mira rushed off.
"Congratulations, my lady." He said to her, linking arms.
"Thank you, Your Grace." Sansa said politely.
"Well, you've done it, you've married a Lannister, soon you'll have a Lannister baby. It's a dream come true for you, isn't it? What a glorious day." He said quietly.
"Yes, Your Grace."
"I suppose it doesn't really matter which Lannister puts the baby into you." He said, giving her that evil grin he usually wore. "Maybe I'll pay you a visit tonight after my uncle passes out. How'd you like that?" Sansa looked back at him horrified. "You wouldn't? That's all right. Ser Meryn and Ser Boros will hold you down." And with that he strode off to speak to the entire room. "Time for the bedding ceremony!" Joffrey announced, dragging Sansa by the hand back down to the head table.
"There will be no bedding ceremony." Tyrion said from his seat dryly.
"Where's your respect for tradition, Uncle?" Joffrey asked. "Come, everyone! Pick her up and carry her to her wedding bed. Get rid of her gown, she won't be needing it any longer. Ladies, attend to my uncle. He's not heavy."
"There will be no bedding ceremony." Tyrion repeated.
"There will be if I command it." Joffrey responded to him. Tyrion thrust a knife into the table at that, gathering the entire rooms attention.
"Then you'll be fucking your own bride with a wooden cock." The imp snarled. The room was silent.
"What did you say? What did you say?!" Joffrey grew angrier at his uncle.
"I believe we can dispense with the bedding, Your Grace." Tywin slurred loudly. "I'm sure Tyrion did not mean to threaten the king."
"A bad joke, Your Grace, made out of envy of your own royal manhood. Mine is so small, my poor wife won't even know I'm there." Tyrion joked.
"Your uncle is clearly quite drunk, Your Grace." Tywin added.
"I am, Guilty." Tyrion said, having another sip. "But- but it is my wedding night. My tiny drunk cock and I have a job to do." He got up from the table and started making his way towards Sansa, crashing into another table on the way. Gesturing to Sansa he said. "Come, wife. I vomited on a girl once in the middle of the act, not proud of it. But I think honesty is important between a man and wife, don't you agree? Come, I'll tell you all about it. Put you in the mood." Tyrion slurred, leading Sansa to their new chambers.
Reaching the room Tyrion opened the door for the pair of them, ushering her in and closing it again. Sansa didn't really know what to do or say, until Tyrion stumbled over to pour himself some more wine. "Is that wise, my lord?" She asked him nervously.
"Tyrion, Sansa." Tyrion said to her, slurring less than he was at the feast. "My name is Tyrion."
"Is that wise, Tyrion?" Sansa repeated, adding his name.
"Nothing was ever wiser." He proclaimed, sitting down on a chair. "Astoundingly long."
"What?"
"Neck. You have one." Tyrion said, not really making any sense. "How old are you exactly?"
"Fifteen." Sansa told him, looking anywhere but his face.
"Well, talk won't make you any older." Tyrion said, sounding quite mournful. "My lord father has commanded me to consummate this marriage." He said overdramatically. Sansa took a deep breath and poured a cup of wine, downing it quickly before making her way over to the bed. She stopped in front of it and began undoing her dress, facing away from her new husband. She was just in her shift and about to take that off too when Tyrion piped up again. "Stop, I can't." He said, before he admitted. "I could, I won't."
"But your father…" Sansa began.
"If my father wants someone to get fucked, I know where he can start." Tyrion said loudly. "I won't share your bed. Not until you want me to."
"What if I never want you to?" Sansa asked him.
Tyrion bowed his head briefly, before raising his glass towards her. "And so my watch begins." He said, going back over to the chair and collapsing upon it.
Torrhen and Arya arrived on a hill not too far away from the Northern castle of the Twins. They had to get through a small wooded area first, but in the distance they saw the impressive twin castles that guarded the Trident crossing.
"The Last time I was here; I was that side of the castle." Torrhen said, pointing along the shoreline past the castle. "Back before Father was murdered."
"What happened there?" Arya asked eagerly.
"Nothing, I shot down a few ravens and Mother got Robb a betrothal." Torrhen said before remembering other parts of the deal. "And also you one…"
"What!" She shouted, rounding on him angrily. "I'm not marrying anyone!"
"Arya stop it!" Torrhen shouted, silencing her from the beginnings of a rant. "Robb broke that pact so it may not still be a term, but don't argue when we are at the Twins alright? We don't want an excuse for Lord Walder to kill us all."
"Oh alright." Arya huffed. "But I'm not happy about it."
"I don't blame you." Torrhen said sincerely. "Now come on, I need a piss and then we'll ride, we'll hopefully get there before nightfall."
Talisa still hadn't seen Robb all day. The army had made camp about 20 miles from The Twins someone had told her, and they would arrive the next day. She was starting to wonder how long it took to deal with a band of outlaws, and to take her mind off of it she went for a walk around the camp to speak with a number of soldiers that she had treated. While talking to a soldier that had been there at Oxcross Roose Bolton appeared behind her.
"Ahem." He cleared his throat.
"Lord Bolton." Talisa turned around. "Is the King back yet?"
"Yes My Queen, if you would follow me." Roose said, leading her away. They walked to the edge of camp, and walked a bit further into a grouping of trees. Talisa was getting confused, looking around and seeing no sign of Robb.
"Where is my husband?" She asked Roose.
"I'm afraid his Grace was injured while fighting the outlaws, he sustained multiple wounds and we thought it best to set up camp away from the men so they wouldn't see him as you treated him." Roose explained. Talisa eyes grew wide in horror as she eagerly followed Roose. They came to a small clearing, and Talisa was horrified at what she saw. Robb was tied up in the air, his wrists bound above him by rope tied to branches. His legs were bound together, tied round the trunk of the tree. Worst of all however, was his chest.
The skin had all been peeled off, and Talisa could see his ribs poking out from beneath the muscle thick with blood, he was gasping, clearly struggling to breath under all the pain. "ROBB!" She screamed, running towards him. Throwing herself to her knees at his feet, her eyes raked over all of his injuries trying to work out a plan to save him, but she found nothing. "Robb, stay with me." She pleaded.
"Talisa…" He moaned in agony.
"Don't talk, just stay awake, stay with me." She begged, tears pouring from her face.
"Traitor…" Was the only thing Robb could say. Talisa turned round, only to see Roose Bolton twirling a thin knife between his hands.
"My family never had a Valyrian Steel sword." Roose Bolton began. "Instead we passed down the key to the perfect torture. A knife so thin it could pass between the layers of skin. As you can see, we haven't forgotten the art."
It clicked. Robb saying traitor, the flayed man sigil. "You did this?" Talisa asked, horrified. "Why?"
"Starks have looked down on us for generations, this boy king here led us into a war he couldn't win and lost it in such a spectacular fashion." Roose told her. "Why should I lead my family into ruin when I can come out on top?"
"You did this for ambition?" Talisa gasped, gesturing to Robb's flayed form.
"No, I did this because I enjoy it." Roose told her. "I killed him because Tywin Lannister offered me the North, I intend to take it." Shallow breathing came from Robb, and Talisa turned round to meet his eyes, he was crying too.
"I love you." He said painfully, succumbing to his fate. His head dropped slowly as his eyes lost their light, and Robb Stark breathed no more.
"And I you." Talisa sobbed. She cupped her hand on his cheek, caressing his face as Roose Bolton gained on her. She accepted her fate too, staring into her loves empty eyes as Roose Bolton pulled back her hair and slit her throat.
