Roslin and Edmure

Chapter 2

"Father!" Roslin barged into the dining room hall, doing something she had never done before; disrupt the chatter of the men while they ate and spoke vulgarly amongst themselves. She and her sisters were usually serving them food and just being as quiet as possible, but not today. She had been excused from serving breakfast since she said she was indisposed. It's been three days since she last ate or came out of her marriage bed. She had spent that time crying and lamenting herself but no more. She was sick of feeling sorry for herself. "Release my husband at once," her heart was at her throat, she had never ordered her father this way, and she was almost tempted to add a 'please' fearing the punishment, but she had come this far, she walked over to her father, but he still would not look her in the eyes "first you make my wedding into some oath-less massacre and now you're destroying my marriage as well. The least you could do-"

"The least I could do is kill him as I did with the rest of his family, and you as well, you ungrateful chit."

"Surely, not all of his family. Blackfish-"

"He's as good as dead. I'm sending your husband to claim Riverrun for me. The old coot has been hiding in there, like a damn woman."

"What?"

"Yes. He'll get to witness the moment my boys cut his throat."

"Then I'm going as well."

"Like hell, you will. You will stay right here and I will hear nothing else on the subject."

"But I-"

He raised his arm to silence her, only then turning to look at her "Do not mistake me for being soft. I understand you being emotional why, you might be with child, but make no mistake Roslin. I will do as I damn well please for the good of our house and I will not listen to the wailing of women that don't know a fucking thing about war and politics."

"May I at least speak to him?"

He nodded his head and resumed eating, dismissing her entirely. Roslin kept her back perfectly straight, mustering all the strength to not run to Edmure before he changed his mind.

Her sisters were whispering around her, they all thought she was the favorite because she was the prettiest of the Frey girls. Roslin thought that would change now that she had been forced to wed their prisoner. Father never did hit her and he did hit his other children, but he'd never been sweet or nice to her. "I'll take that," she said to one of her sisters carrying a skin of ale, some bread, grapes and cheese pieces in a tray. The sister glared but didn't stop her and continued walking. Only when no one was watching did she hide the skin and the food in her skirt pockets. After having a large family, Frey women learned to be resourceful.

She finally reached a door, where one of her brothers sat next to. She took a deep breath "Father has allowed me to see my husband." He eyed her up and down but then opened the door for her. Before she could go down the steps, he grabbed her forearm and stopped her.

"He might not be happy to see you, sis."

She trembled at the proximity and pushed him off "That's alright. I know."

He nodded "Fine. I wouldn't waste my time on his hide. Here, the key to his cell. He's chained up to the wall and this key," her brother showed her the rope necklace that had a key and hung around his neck, "I'm keeping right here."

Roslin glared and took the offered key and took cautious steps into the darkness. She hated this place. The smells were strong and unforgiving. She scrunched up her nose until she reached the bottom. Walking down the halls she began to whisper her husband's name. "Lord Edmure?"

She heard a cough at the end and then a chuckle "Is that a song I hear? A pretty song from a pretty girl." Roslin arrived at a middle cell where her husband sat against the opposite wall, long chains binding him to his cell. He stared at her with a look that scared her, it was cold and mad "Nay, not a girl. A woman as of…" he looked to the wall where three scratches had been drawn "three days ago."

She opened his cell and ran to him "Edmure please, don't speak. I brought you some food. Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Her hands were at his cheeks, checking his complexion as well as she could in the darkness.

"Hurt? Aye!" he exclaimed, dismissing her soft hands from his face "My sister is dead. My cousin is dead. I am dead! Our wedding…" he paused as if searching for the most venomous words to express what he felt about their union.

Her lips trembled as she waited for the insults to come, for him to curse their wedding and curse her. Tears slowly trickled down her face, "Edmure…," she whispered hoarsely, almost out of strength "I am so sorry for what happened, please, believe me, I never wanted for any of this to happen."

"Don't you dare! Our marriage is a lie. This whole thing is a joke! Leave me to rot in peace, woman! What else do you want from me?!"

She cried as he tried to look away from her. "Please don't condemn us so soon." Her tears hurt him more than the three days he's been beaten and malnourished. His hands tightened at her neck. She gasped, her big brown eyes staring at him in fear. He had barely applied pressure and slowly, his hands pulled her closer by the neck, her delicate flowery scent overpowering the filth of his cell and his lips fell upon hers, softly brushing his chapped lips against her full smooth lips. She moaned that sweet melody. The familiar sound waking and bringing forth the man he had met at their honeymoon.

Their honeymoon.

It was like a double-edged sword and he soon released her neck and pushed her away. "You brought food, you said?"

She nodded and retrieved the skin, bread, cheese and grapes from her pockets. The grapes were a bit smashed, the juice staining her hands when she revealed them "Oh damn." she cursed, about to clean it up when he reached for her wrist and stopped her. He took the grapes from her palm and ate them. They were too sweet but he swallowed them as if it was the finest wine.

Roslin blushed, she had expected him to lick the juices off her hand.

Edmure took a bite of the piece of bread, and before even biting once, took a large sip of the ale.

She wanted to tell him to take it easy, but felt he might get angry again so he decided to speak frankly about something that might concern him "Father is planning to use you to take back Riverrun from Blackfish."

He stopped mid drink. "And?"

She shrugged "I thought you might want to know."

"I don't care what happens to me now."

"Edmure-"

"Why are you here, Ros? Do you feel sorry for me? Is this an act of pity, dear wife? Or is it that you feel indebted to me because of some oath you took in front of oathless men? Do you think our marriage means anything after what transpired?! Because, if so, then stop your hypocrisy Roslin. It is clear to me now that a Frey has no oath. Your vows are as straight as your father's back."

She hated how much she wanted to cry; how much her lips trembled, and her throat constricted and then that hate turned to anger. She slowly began to realize something "That is enough out of you! I'm done making excuses for what happened or feeling sorry for my part on it. I am here because I am your wife, like it or not, and for some stupid reason I cannot fathom, I care about you. I may not be able to do much, but I am all you have, Lord Edmure. Yes, I am a Frey, but unlike my father, I keep my word, especially the ones I take before the Old Gods and the New. Now, eat."

"I finished eating while you made your little speech," he told her matter-of-factly.

"Oh," she said realizing even the ale was empty.

"Your tears… you weren't crying because of the bedding."

She shook her head "No. I quite enjoyed the bedding." she smiled sheepishly, her cheeks turning slightly pink at the confession.

He couldn't stop the small smile to his lips at that fact "So did I."

"I'm glad you did, my lord."

"Hey," he grabbed her chin, surprising her as he forced her closer to him, "I told you, you can call me Ed."

She stared into his eyes, their eyes locking and slowly lowering, he stared at her lips intently while she whispered "Ed…"

This time, it was her lips that found his. She kissed him hungrily, and dangerously. Her kisses were strong and passionate and he felt her legs wrap around his waist, her chest pressing against his collarbone while she rubbed against him, the friction bringing him back to life.

"Ros…" he could barely speak between breaths. She was beyond reason, his wife. "Roslin, I don't think we-…" he didn't finish his thought when he realized his hands were firmly grabbing her plush bottom without care. She felt so soft, so good. He could remember how good it felt to have her all to himself and she wasn't this eager that time, having her this way would surely kill him.

"Edmure, I miss you. I want you. Can I?" she asked almost timidly; her arms embraced him around his neck, surrounding himself in her, and, gods he was only a man.

He kissed her just as passionate as she had, ripping some of her front fabric before he heard a shout.

"Hey! Roslin! Time's up! Get your ass up here!"

They both sighed and when she stood, he sobered up, no longer entranced by her charms and beauty. Her innocence and naivety had clouded his judgment. "I guess," he paused to get her attention since she was at the door of his cell, her back facing him, "you didn't get another chance to secure a Tully heir. Let's hope that one time is enough, and then you can get rid of me."

She didn't look back, her shoulders squared and her back perfectly straight while she locked him in the cell and walked away. Her brother stared at her incredulously "Guess he was happy to see you, after all."

It was only then she realized her front shirt was ripped in half, revealing much of the middle of chest. She gasped and quickly pulled both sides of the shirt to cover her middle, using her arms as cover and running away while her brother laughed at her.