Disclaimer: I don't own the A Song of Ice and Fire series.
Author's Note: First of all, I'd like to offer my apologies for the wait. I wanted this chapter out weeks ago, but I got distracted and kept forgetting to start writing it. On the bright side, I did find some excellent fanfics which I hadn't read before. If any of you are looking for something to read, Robb Returns, My Honor Goes Only So High, and A Song of Three Sons are all excellent fics.
I'd like to thank everyone for reading as always, and I'd especially like to thank TwoWayMirror for your review. It made me very happy that you have enjoyed this story so far, and I am honoured that my story inspired you to do maths. I, like you, need a lot of motivation to do that, so thank you. :) As for your questions, yes, the twins would've been around that age when their father married Lysa, and Robert and Ned will hold some fondness for them, which will be clearer in the chapters to come.
I hope that you all enjoy the chapter, and please feel free to tell me what you think in a review.
Chapter Seventeen: The Wedding
Ysilla's hands couldn't seem to stop trembling. She had barely slept the night before, and now, as her handmaid did her hair, she vainly willed her hands to be still. You are a daughter of Runestone, Ysilla told herself fiercely, and you will not go to your wedding like a scared little lamb.
A knock on the door drew Ysilla from her thoughts, and she called for the visitor to enter. She watched, unsurprised, as her mother entered and hurried to Ysilla's side, smiling at her as she caught her eye.
"Mother," Ysilla said, doing her best to smile in return and not to look nervous.
"My darling," Lady Royce's eyes were full of pride as she looked at her, and Ysilla felt her nerves ease, if only a little. "Are you well? This is a very big day for you."
"I am well," Ysilla assured her. "And I know..."
"You are nervous," Her mother said, interrupting her. "Sweetling, that is normal, but remember, Ser Artys cares for you, and you for him. You are both fortunate, and your father and I...well, we are pleased that you will be happy in your marriage."
"Thank you, mother," Ysilla murmured, nodding. She knew that compared to many ladies, she was fortunate. She cared for Artys very much, and she was thankful that her parents and lord Arryn had agreed to the match between them.
Her mother reached out, taking Ysilla's hand in hers, and squeezing it. "I came to give you something." Her mother said to her surprise.
"To give me something?" Ysilla was curious now, and seeing the look on her face, her mother laughed and pulled a small wooden box from the inside of her dress. It was carved with runes, and Ysilla took it curiously when her mother handed it to her.
"What is this, mother?" Ysilla asked her, not looking away from the box in her hand.
"It is a gift that my mother gave me on my wedding day. It has been passed down for question some time now from mother to daughter, and now, it is yours."
Ysilla opened the box, and found a golden necklace inside. It was a simple thing, but the small blue stones set into it shimmered brightly when the light hit them.
"It's beautiful," She admitted, lifting it carefully. "Thank you, mother."
She slipped the necklace around her neck, and fastened the clasp. Her mother smiled once more, her brown eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Enjoy today, Ysilla," Her mother told her softly. "And remember that your father and I are both very proud of you."
Ysilla found it hard to swallow suddenly past the lump in her throat. Her eyes stung, and she hastily blinked back tears. "Oh, mother, you're going to make me cry." She said, trying for a laugh instead.
Her mother shook her head, laughing softly. "We can't have that, not today. I will leave you to finish dressing, Ysilla."
"I will see you soon then, mother." Ysilla murmured, and her mother left and her handmaid continued to prepare her for the ceremony that was only an hour away now. She smiled to herself as her hair was finished and she was helped into her wedding gown. Her mother was right, she decided as her maiden's cloak was placed around her shoulders, today was her day, and she would enjoy it. After all, this was what she wanted.
Artys stood before the Septon between the statues of the Mother and the Father. He was decked out in his wedding finery, and he dearly hoped that no one could see how nervous he was. He was trying to keep a mask and confidence and joy on his face, but he wasn't sure how well that was going.
"You'll be fine," Alyssa murmured, stepping closer to where he stood. She would be standing off to the side, ready to present him with the bridal cloak when the time came. "Just relax, Artys, this is your wedding day."
"I know," He replied, trying again to smile. "I'm fine, Lys, don't worry."
"Good," Alyssa replied, smiling encouragingly. "Now, just don't fret for the rest of the ceremony, and everything will be fine."
Artys simply nodded, knowing that she was right. He wished that his father could be here with him, but since he was not, he was glad that his twin was here at least. At the far end of the Sept, the doors opened, and Alyssa moved back to her place as Ysilla and lord Royce entered the room.
Time seemed to freeze for a moment. Ysilla, looking radiant in a dress of bronze silk, looked straight at him with shining eyes. Looking at her, moving gracefully towards him, Artys felt his nerves vanish. This woman, this beautiful, strong woman, was meant for him, he released. She would be his, and he would be hers, and as her father handed her over to him, he held her hand, certain that he would never want to let her go.
The ceremony seemed like a shining blur. The songs and the prayers flew by, and before Artys knew it, the septon was telling him that it was time to cloak his bride and bring her under his protection.
Lord Royce removed Ysilla's maiden's cloak, and Alyssa stepped forward, and handed Artys the folded bridal cloak. As he shook it out, he couldn't help looking at the work his twin had done on it. The cloak itself was sky blue velvet, and the moon and falcon sigil of house Arryn had been done in shivering silvery thread. Gently, Artys draped the cloak around Ysilla's shoulders, and fastened the mother-of-pearl clasp at her throat.
"Look upon one another, and saw the words." The septon said, and Artys met Ysilla's grey eyes. After a deep breath, they spoke the words together.
"Father, warrior, smith, mother, maiden crone, stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days." As Artys and Ysilla finished the words, the septon spoke again.
"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby declare that Artys of the house Arryn, and Ysilla of the house Royce are one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever."
As the ceremony ended, Artys again took Ysilla's hand and they faced the crowd. He was beaming, he knew, and around them, every lord and lady in the hall began to cheer as he and his new wife walked slowly down through the sept and towards the doors. The lords and ladies began to follow suit, and as Artys lead his wife by the hand towards the feast that awaited them, he couldn't help thinking that this was the best day of his life.
It had been a lovely ceremony, Alyssa thought as she took a small sip of her wine. Her brother and her new sister sat together on the dais, and both of them glowed with joy. Alyssa had beamed with pride as her twin cloaked Ysilla, and watching them now, she was truly happy that he'd found happiness with her.
As her gaze moved around the room, she smiled at the sight of the many lords and ladies milling near the dais, awaiting their turn to congratulate the happy couple. She herself had been one of the first to do so, and now, she looked on from where she sat with Robert and the Royces as others did the same.
"They look so happy together, don't they?" Robar's words cut through her thoughts, and she turned her gaze to him, smiling.
"Yes," She agreed. "They do. They are both fortunate, many of us will not be so lucky, I fear."
She knew, though she did not want to, that soon it would be her getting married. She did not yet know who her husband would be, but she knew that her wedding would come nonetheless.
Robar, obviously noticing her turn in mood, gave her a concerned look. Despite his usually cheerful attitude,Alyssa knew, as few others did, that Robar was very good when it came to reading people.
"They are fortunate," He agreed, his tone carefully light. "You have nothing to fear though, surely," He added quickly, "Neither your father or Artys would let you marry a man who would mistreat you."
"Yes, I know," She agreed. "And I'm sure that when you marry, you will find happiness as well."
For a moment, Robar's grey eyes darkened. He didn't look like he believed that, and Alyssa wondered for a moment if the whispers she'd heard about him and lord Renly a few years back were true. Not that it was her concern, she reminded herself, but still...she wondered if she could perhaps confide in him about her own feelings. She shook that thought off almost at once though. Even if Robar did prefer men, it did not mean that he wanted to hear about her own situation.
"Alyssa?" She shook her head slightly, and offered him an apologetic look.
"Yes? I'm sorry...I am afraid that my thoughts distracted me."
"No need for apologies," He returned, smiling at her. "I only wondered if something was troubling you. You looked...conflicted."
"Nothing of great import," she assured him quickly. "I am quite all right."
Robar nodded once more, and turned slightly to answer a question from his mother, who was seated on the other side of him. Alyssa glanced around the hall again, and caught sight of Domeric Bolton sitting quietly a few tables away. She had not spoken with him very much at all since the night of Waymar's feast, but when he caught her eye, he smiled at her. She smiled in turn, hoping that she would have the chance to speak with him later on.
"Alyssa?" Robert asked from where he sat on Alyssa's right.
Turning to him, Alyssa smiled gently. "Yes, sweetling?" She asked.
"When are the lemon cakes coming?" Robert asked, blue eyes sparkling.
Alyssa laughed softly, unable to help it. "Not for another few courses, Robert. We only just had soup, remember?"
"But then I'll be too full," Robert protested, looking anxious.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage a few of them," She assured him. "No one is ever too full for cake."
Robert seemed satisfied with that. He nodded, and turned his attention to where Artys and Ysilla were sitting. "Is Ysilla really our sister now?" Robert asked her.
"She is," Alyssa confirmed, nodding.
"That's good, I like Ysilla." Robert beamed, his little face full of innocence that made Alyssa's own heart melt. Her little brother was such a sweet boy, she mused, and she truly had no idea how Lysa Tully had produced such a child.
"Yes," She said after a moment. "I like her too."
Robert nodded happily, and as the next course was served, Alyssa found that her troubled thoughts from earlier had all but disappeared. This was her brother's night after all, and she would not ruin it with her own troubled feelings.
Domeric knew that his lord father wanted more power for house Bolton, but the letter he'd received upon his arrival at the Eyrie had certainly reinforced that fact. He had written to his father the morning after Waymar Royce's feast, telling him that by invitation of lady Alyssa Arryn, he would be attending her brother's wedding. He had thought that his staying longer in the Vale would displease lord Bolton, but the lo he had received in return was not what he had expected.
As he sat at the wedding feast, he recalled the words of the letter again, and winced inwardly. His father was too ambitious, but as his letter had told him to remain in the Vale for a little while longer, he was at least a little glad for it.
My son, the letter had said, I am pleased by your attendance at Ser Artys Arryn's wedding. An alliance with the Vale, and with the Arryns can only benefit our house. You have done well, Domeric, and I want you to remain in the Vale a little longer. I want you to get close to the Arryns, charm lady Alyssa if you can. Mayhaps, this will end in a more permanent alliance than I had thought possible for us.
Your father,
Lord Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort
The order was ridiculous, of course, Domeric thought. His father had once considered attempting a betrothal between him and lord Stark's daughter, but now it seemed he was willing to take advantage of any opportunity that presented itself. Domeric sighed quietly. He liked lady Alyssa, it was true, but he did not think that him staying a few more weeks in the Vale could end in a betrothal between them. Besides, it would be lord Arryn who would make that decision, and he was in the capital. Still...he would stay for now. He knew that displeasing his father was not an option he wanted to consider, so he would do his duty, and if by some miracle his father managed to get the alliance he wanted, well Domeric certainly would not complain.
Looking around, he saw that Ser Artys and his new bride had taken to the dance floor. Soon, other couples were joining them, and Domeric watched with little interest. Ser Artys looked happy, as did his new bride, and he was pleased for them. Artys had always been pleasant to him, and seeing his wedding going so well turned Domeric's mind once again towards his own. Almost without his noticing, he glanced at the table where lady Alyssa was sitting. She seemed to be speaking with her little brother, who was smiling up at her with big, bright eyes.
Domeric thought about his own brother then. Well, his half brother, he supposed. Ramsay. He had never met him, and he knew that his father did not want him to, but seeing other siblings interact...well, it made him all the more determined that one day, he would know his brother.
Alyssa is kind to her brothers, Domeric mused as he watched them. Would she be kind to my brother despite his bastard name? He thought that she would be, if they ever met, and that thought made him smile. He did not love her, he did not know her well enough for that, but she certainly would make a good wife, he thought.
As more and more people took to the dance floor, Domeric rose and began to make his way through the tables. His father's plans might be cold and ambitious, but Domeric was neither of those things. Still, it would not hurt to get closer to her, he decided, and with that in mind, he approached her, and bowed politely.
"Lady Alyssa," He murmured, offering her a small smile. "Would you care to dance?"
Before Alyssa could reply, little Robert Arryn stared up at him with curious eyes. "What is your name?" The little lord asked. "I haven't seen you before."
"Robert," Alyssa cautioned, frowning slightly. "Remember your manners."
"It's quite all right," Domeric assured her quickly. "He is a child, it is all right if he is curious." Glancing at Robert, he smiled. "I am Domeric Bolton, my lord, heir to the Dreadfort."
Robert smiled in return. "Well, it's nice to meet you, lord Domeric. Alyssa says that you helped Artys with the wicked tribes, you must be a true knight."
Domeric felt a little embarrassed at that. He was unused to praise, and he did not know what to say.
"Thank you, lord Robert," He said at last, bowing his head slightly.
Seeming to sense his discomfort, Alyssa smiled brightly at her brother. "He certainly is a true knight," She assured him. "Now, will you be all right here with our new brothers while I dance with him?"
Robert, seeming pleased, nodded. "Yes," He said, nodding. "I will be. Oh, and look! The cakes are finally coming."
"So they are," Alyssa replied, and then she turned to him with a smile. "Shall we, my lord?"
"Yes," He agreed and he took her arm, and lead her to the floor for the first of several dances that they shared that night.
"A toast!" Artys winced inwardly as yet another lord got to his feet. The wedding feast had been going on for quite some time now, and the toasts seemed never ending. He and Ysilla had been congratulated more times than he could count, they'd eaten and drank, they'd danced at least a dozen dances together, and now many of the lords were very drunk.
"A toast!" The voice of lord Templeton roared again. "To the future lord of the Vale, and his lovely lady wife!" The other lords and ladies cheered loudly and drank, and Artys strained to hold his smile in place. He was delighted to be married to Ysilla, he really was, but now he wanted to be alone with her.
"When can we leave?" Ysilla whispered to him, her eyes meeting his. He and lord Royce had already decided that there would be no bedding ceremony, to his relief, but as yet another lord got up to toast, he doubted that they could slip out anytime soon.
"I don't know," He murmured in response. "Soon, I hope."
Ysilla sighed, clearly frustrated. She seemed to be thinking hard, and then she gestured at someone sitting at one of the nearby tables. A moment later, Robar was rising to his feet, and the crowd, noticing this, fell quiet again.
"My lords and ladies," Robar said loudly. "The bride and groom seem tired. What say you? Should we wish them well and send them off to bed?"
The crowd cheered again, and as Artys and Ysilla moved through the hall, the lords and ladies they passed called out well wishes. Nodding and smiling at everyone they passed, Artys was beyond relieved a few minutes later when he and Ysilla reached his chambers.
Artys opened the door for her, and smiled, gesturing for her to go inside. He followed her in, and quietly closed the door behind them.
"Thank the gods," Ysilla murmured, smiling at him. "I thought that we would never escape."
"They mean well," Artys mused. "But I am glad that you had Robar interfere when he did."
"I had planned that with him in advance, just in case," She admitted, and he laughed softly.
"Well, we're alone now, at least." He said, and a silence fell. They both knew what came next, and he looked at Ysilla carefully.
"Ysilla...if you're not ready tonight, we could wait a few days..."
"No," Ysilla replied, moving towards him. "No, Artys, we don't have to wait. I don't want to wait...unless, you do?"
"No," He replied, shaking his head. "No, I don't want that, either."
"Good." She replied, and she took the final few steps, until he was able to wrap his arms around her, and kiss her fiercely. She returned it in kind, and he lead her over to the bed, not breaking their kiss as he did so.
It didn't take long before all the barriers between their two bodies were one, and when he took that final step, when they really were together as one, he knew that this was more right than he'd ever thought possible. He swore to himself then, as he went over the edge with her, that he'd protect her, and the children that he hoped they would have together. Perhaps, he thought as he fell asleep only minutes after they had finished, they had made a child together that night, and that thought made him smile as he fell asleep, his arms gently wrapped around the woman he loved.