Now clean and clothed in a fresh dress of powder blue, Rhaena stood amongst the witnesses in order to watch the wedding ceremony that would unity the House of Tully and Frey. The sept was as bland and nondescript as the rest of the Twins, though heavy with incense which caused Rhaena's nose to tickle. Sansa had already sneezed several times which earned an amused smirk from her friend with each one. Lord Edmure looked rather downcast, not at all like a groom upon the day of his wedding. Perhaps his disappointment in the faces of Lord Walder's collection of daughters and granddaughters had caused his stomach to be sickened as in truth, the girls were all rather unfortunate looking one way or another. The most a Frey girl could hope for was to be simply plain, which one or two of them were. Rhaena sympathised with them, for in addition to their lack of looks they were all rather grimly dressed, and their faces lacked any kind of expression which might have improved their appearances. They were unhappy. She could not blame them. With an overbearing father who did not know when to cease siring heirs who had no love for any child of his own was more than enough to cause any young girl misery. Poor Lord Edmure. He had had such high hopes for a pretty wife.
All attention turned to Lord Walder and the girl clothed in white and a thick veil as they entered the sept and began to make their way down the aisle. Sansa clutched tightly upon Rhaena's arm as she stared at the bride, attempting to glean her features but she was well hidden under the veil. Whispering quietly as not to be heard, Sansa commented on the gown and how it was surprisingly lovely, and the bride had a fine looking figure. Smirking despite herself, she hushed Sansa and the two had to stifle their giggles together. By this point Lord Walder and his daughter had reached Lord Edmure at the alter, presenting the bride to the groom as was the duty of the father, to pass on the care of his child to her future husband. Stepping in front of the bride, Roslin, Lord Walder lifted the veil and settled it around her shoulders so that her face was now bare, though no one in the audience could at first see her, only the rich shade of her hair. Whilst all looked at Roslin, Rhaena focused upon Lord Edmure and watched as his hesitation suddenly melted away into an expression of surprise which soon turned into one of breathlessness. It was all Rhaena needed to see. Roslin was nothing he had expected. Kneeling before him, Roslin spoke to the man who was to become her husband. "Lord Edmure." Her voice was delicate and soft yet did not quiver. It was exceptionally lovely to the ear. "I hope I'm not a disappointment to you." With such a sweet sentiment, Lord Edmure finally remembered to breathe.
Stepping forwards and lowering his hands to hers, Lord Edmure helped Roslin to her feet so that they stood before one another, unable to wrest his eyes away from her. "You're a delight to me, my lady." The grip of Sansa's fingers upon Rhaena tightened further as the audience were given the first glimpse of Roslin's face and found her to be a fair and pretty maiden, perhaps the only one of Lord Walder's daughter to have any claim of beauty. It was clear Lord Edmure was enchanted, so when the Septon announced that he could cloak the bride in his own colours in order to bring her under his own protection and accept her into his house, Lord Edmure jumped to comply. He took off his own cloak with the Tully colours and crest then placed it upon Roslin's slim shoulders. Their hands were then bound together and the Septon spoke the words in order to unify them together in marriage, his voice carrying all the way to the back of the sept so all could hear and bear witness.
"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon each other and say the words." All that remained were for Lord Edmure and Roslin to name each of the seven gods of the faith and declare themselves as belonging to one another before it was done. They were married. Was that all it took? Rhaena found herself a little underwhelmed by it all. She had imagined there to be a little more than simply placing a cloak around the bride's shoulders and speaking some words to gods who were less than likely to be listening. Still, she was glad for Lord Edmure as he took his new wife's hand in his and placed a kiss there which seemed to please her, for she gave a shy smile to him as they presented themselves to their families. Well, it had all proceeded smoothly, and at the very least Rhaena found herself enjoying the wedding feast more than the wedding itself for there was food, laughter and music to be enjoyed where she sat with Sansa and Talisa who were already gossiping together about the dress and Roslin herself.
"It was a surprise, she's actually pretty. My uncle was lucky Lord Frey had one pretty daughter to give to him for a wife." Sansa stated rather bluntly as she looked to where her uncle and his wife sat together at the high table to the left of Lord Walder. Lord Edmure remained seemingly besotted and entranced, smiling and whispering things to Roslin who continued to shyly smile to him until gradually she began to warm to his attentions and began to lean towards him also, their heads bowed together in order to speak and whisper as if no one else was present in the hall. Rhaena smiled softly at the sight. "And her dress was rather well made, did you see her veil? It must be an heirloom. It looks quite old but still lovely, though I cannot see her wearing any jewels. Do you think she perhaps does not own any?"
"I do not expect Lord Walder would spend his gold and silver on jewellery for a daughter he was giving away. It would have been a waste of his coin." Talisa answered simply with a glance to the old man whilst keeping a hand resting over her stomach where the child she and Robb had created together grew. When Talisa had given them the news, Sansa had cried out for joy and embraced her sister-in-law, thrilled at the prospect of her brother becoming a father and herself an aunt. Rhaena had offered her congratulations a little more softly, but no less sincerely. She and Sansa were already plotting to make the child thick winter clothing and blankets to offer them as gifts for when the child arrived as no doubt it would not be long after the child was born that winter would truly arrive. Rhaena prayed for the child's safe delivery and long lasting health, but most of all she prayed that the war would be over by the time the child was due so that it could be delivered in the ancestral home of its ancestors, Winterfell, once Theon had been outrooted and hung by his neck in punishment for his betrayal. There were a great many hopes for the future and bright things promised yet to come. Rhaena simply prayed that they would indeed come.
"Where is the king? Where is King Robb? He gave his word to be here for the festivities!" The cutting shout of Lord Walder dimmed the warmth and cheer of the hall as all quietened in order to hear him. Sansa quickly grew silent and tense, catching hold of Rhaena's hand as they both turned to look at the lord as he stood from his chair. Before anyone else could speak, Lady Catelyn rose from where she sat in order to address Lord Walder, sending a glance towards her daughter and Rhaena to silently warn them to stay put.
"My Lord Walder, my son is yet to send word of his movements, but I have no doubt that if he is able, he is riding hard at this present moment to join us." Speaking clearly and with poise, Rhaena gazed in quiet admiration for Lady Catelyn who always presented herself in the manner befitting a highborn lady.
"Excuses are not good enough. He gave his word!" A heavy fist thumped against the table which caused the plates, cutlery and even the wine filled goblets to shudder.
"Do not fear, my lord. My son has given his word to attend to you and offer his apologies and he will do so. Before this, however, he intends to do so with the utmost sincerity. This is why when he arrives here, he hopes to arrive with chests full of gold to present to you as a gift." The artful tongue of Catelyn Stark began to move, commanding the attention of her audience and Rhaena watched in fascination as Lady Catelyn moved in order to stand directly before the high table as Lord Walder growled.
"He intends to buy my forgiveness with gold?"
"No my lord, he intends to earn it." She responded effortlessly which caused a grin to jump to Rhaena's features as even Sansa took note of everything her mother said and did, learning how to command a room and act as the intermediary who would keep peace between one man and another. "You have been promised the seat of Harrenhal once the war is concluded, but it is a ruin, my lord. A ruin which you will need gold to rebuild should it be your wish. My son the King in the North intends to gift you this gold to repay his debt of breaking his first oath to you, where peace may then exist between us and our Houses." The promise of gold by the wagonful was more than enough to satiate old Frey, who licked his lips and grumbled in acceptance as he sank back down into his seat. Lifting a cup of wine he saluted it to Lady Catelyn before taking a sip.
"Very well." Slapping his hand twice against the table, he commanded the attention of his guests once more. "The Septon has prayed his prayers, some words were said and Lord Edmure has wrapped my daughter in a cloak. But they are not yet man and wife." He announced to all as his decision to proceed with the next stage of the wedding celebration was to commence. "A sword needs a sheathe, and a wedding needs a bedding." Rhaena grimaced at the crudeness whilst the men around her all raised their voices in cheer. "Let the couple be bedded together to consummate their marriage. Pray Lord Edmure's seed is strong…and puts a son in my daughter's belly before the night is over!" Instantly there was a riot of shouting and thumping of fists and cups against tables as people called for the bedding ceremony to begin. Men rose up from their seats in order to take hold of Roslin and lift her up into the air, carrying her away to the chamber where she was to become the true wife of Lord Edmure whilst her sisters pulled him along after her, removing articles of his clothing all the while as he laughed and joked. This part Rhaena had no interest in and so stayed put, however upon seeing Talisa's rather shocked and concerned expression, reached out in order to take her hand.
"All is well, it is simply tradition." She assured her, encouraging Talisa to relax herself.
"You westerners have very strange customs." To this Rhaena could not argue.
"Perhaps. I expect it was a man who first thought of this particular tradition, to watch as a husband and wife become one for the first time and it has never changed since." She mused as Sansa blushed warmly as she sipped at her wine, still a little too innocent for such talk but attempted to hide her discomfort for her intrigue was far greater. "It is rather archaic. If ever I married someone, I would forbid the bedding ceremony and simply sneak away with my husband so I could have my way with him as I pleased without lewd men panting as they watched around the bed." Now Sansa squeaked and went as deep a crimson she could possibly go, gasping in shock.
"Rhae! How could you say such things?"
"Quite easily, sweet Sansa. Have you not thought of your own wedding night?" Her eyes glanced away briefly as Talisa smiled to them both, leaning closer in order to hear Sansa's thoughts.
"Well…yes of course I've thought about it, but not about that. I just imagine the dress I shall wear and what my husband might look like. Though for a time the thought of being married sickened me as I was…because I was to…" Not needing to finish the sentence for both understood, Rhaena quickly covered Sansa's hand with her own in order to squeeze it as the girl took a long gulp from her cup. Perhaps she was a little drunk from the wine as she seemed rather unclear in the head so Rhaena gave her water thereafter. "But that…I don't even really understand how it's supposed to work. I mean, I know a man is supposed to somehow fit himself inside a woman but…what comes next is something I…oh I can't even say it!" Bursting into a fit of giggles Sansa clamped her hand over her mouth as Talisa and Rhaena laughed with her, teasing her softly whilst stroking at her hair and patting her hands.
"There now my sweet, it is perhaps a little mysterious if no one has explained the process to you before." Talisa said kindly as she leaned herself towards them all the more until their heads were bowed so low together they bumped constantly even from the slightest of movements. "Shall I tell you what happens to a woman on her wedding night?" Sansa's crimson face paled before it brightened once more as she nibbled upon her lip and wriggled nervously before shyly nodding her head. Grinning, Talisa turned her face towards Sansa's ear and began to whisper to her in rather vivid and graphic detail of how a man consummated his marriage with his wife and how exactly a child would result from the act. It amused Rhaena to no end to watch Sasna's expressions as they went from horrified to scandalised, then to intrigue and further into curiosity and slight eagerness. She was burning by the time Talisa was finished explaining, and Sansa herself looked rather flustered as she fanned herself.
"Surely…surely that will hurt?" Whimpering quietly, Talisa swiftly assured Sansa that if the man knew his way about a woman's body and took care to ensure that she was pleasured and relaxed, it would not hurt at all.
"It may feel uncomfortable, but it is only for a moment and once it has begun, you will not want it to stop." Sansa's eyes fluttered heavily. Beaming as Sansa's head began to drop, Talisa shifted herself so that Sansa could rest herself against her shoulder, wrapping her arm around the younger girl so that she would not fall. "Perhaps we should get her to bed. Where is Lady?"
"Outside. Lord Walder did not want her in his hall. I will go fetch her." Getting up from the bench and sliding herself away from the table, Rhaena ducked her head and moved quickly through the rambunctious clusters of men overflowing with wine through their veins. She passed unnoticed and went to the main doors only to find them shut. It was odd but she took no mind of it, merely quietly lifted back the latch and opened the door a crack in order to slip away outside in order to retrieve Lady from where she had been placed in a holding. She was whimpering from loneliness, but the moment she sensed Rhaena approaching she had darted to her feet and began to call to her wistfully, wagging her tail all the while. "There now Lady, I am here. I am sorry for this, it is not right to cage you up but we must please our host." Rhaena soothed as the men behind her continued to eat and drink merrily at their table. She opened the door and let Lady out who immediately darted free and began to turn in tight circles playfully, making Rhaena laugh. "Come Lady, come with me to Sansa." Perking up at Sansa's name, Lady happily trotted beside Rhaena as she led the direwolf back inside where the warm glow of torches lit the way.
As they entered, however, Rhaena heard the music from the hall change as it flowed outwards from within, becoming slow and sombre as it seemingly swelled within every nerve Rhaena possessed. She froze instinctively. The Rains of Castamere. She had heard that song played so many times at court Rhaena was sick to death of it as she knew what it meant. It was a Lannister song, to warn everyone of what became of those who defied the House of Lannister. The sudden presence of the song caused Rhaena's stomach to clench. Turning upon her heel she ran down the opposite way of the hall as Lady barked worriedly and chased after her, the pair of them turning a corner where Rhaena was unable to find somewhere suitable to empty the contents of her stomach. Food and wine passed back up her body and she vomited it onto the floor. Several times she retched and heaved, hand pressed against the wall as Lady whimpered beside her and licked at her other hand until finally Rhaena had nothing left to give. A cold sweat clung to her body as Rhaena shakingly stood herself upright though her knees felt weak and unsteady. "Oh Lady…" Sucking in a deep breath Rhaena dropped to her knees and flung her arms about Lady's neck in order to bury her face into the thickness of her fur. The song had unsettled her and now floods of memories had come rushing back upon her like a tempest, dragging back all the feelings of constant fear and terror she had lived with for so many years. At least Lady was with her, and that was a comfort, though Rhaena told herself to gather herself back together as she would not show weakness. Not here of all places, and besides. Sansa needed to go to bed, and now Rhaena felt that she did too. Before she had begun to loosen her grasp around Lady, however, the direwolf suddenly tensed and began to growl. A low, warning sound that reverberated through her entire body. Rhaena pulled back her head in shock. She had never heard Lady growl before. It seemed like she simply did not have the temper for it. "What is it, Lady?" Dropping her voice to a whisper, Rhaena knew then that something was dreadfully wrong. Lady's ears were turned forwards and her entire body was alert, tail stood upright as her fur bristled to make her seem twice the size she already was.
Sounds of heavy footfalls echoed through the halls and Rhaena quickly darted to the opposite wall where it was darker, instinctively seeking the shadows as Lady followed her, lips drawing back to bear her fangs silently as her growl fell away. In her chest Rhaena's heart was suddenly clenching and convulsing rapidly as that tight heat began to gather in her stomach once again, as if heralding an oncoming disaster. With her back pressed to the wall Rhaena dared to look beyond the corner and saw a group of Frey men armed with their swords and dressed in their armour and mail as if preparing for battle. The heat in her gut flared until it felt her entire body was aflame as Rhaena listened and began to then hear the sounds of shouts, screams and the chokes of the dying. Nothing else mattered to her and all reasonable sense fled. Rhaena darted forwards and ran back to the dining hall with Lady at her heels. All the while she could not even bring herself to breathe, eyes wide with fear as her head pounded like a drum. Her body felt so weightless she was later convinced she had flown back to the double doors as she had arrived before them in mere heartbeats and wrestled the door she had left ajar open, though it was blocked by the bodies of fallen Stark men. It was enough to look inside, however, and what she saw would remain in her nightmares until the day she died.
"NO!" Such was the sound that Rhaena made it should not ever have existed, so terrible and sharp it rose through her like a surging wave and crashed back upon her with such force that she almost fell to her knees. Dead. Stark men dead everywhere. She could not even see Sansa, Talisa or Lady Catelyn, but the bolts from crossbows were still firing and the wretched screams of men filled the air. The fire burned brighter. It burned hotter. Then all at once, it burst free from the confines of Rhaena's body. With some kind of overwhelming strength she forced the door open as she let loose another mournful howl and tumbled into the hall. Every flame from every torch and candle suddenly rose up with her cry, rallying to Rhaena's unwitting command to jump from their bearers and cast themselves upon the Frey and Bolton soldiers, for she could see they too were involved in this treachery as one wearing the Bolton crest attempted to raise his sword against her. Fire jumped upon his arm which held his sword and caused him to cry out in alarm, distracted by the licking flames as they ate away at his armour and clothing until Lady leaped upon him with a snarl and, without hesitation, tore out his throat.
Rhaena did not remember taking the dagger from her leg, neither did she remember pushing her way forwards until suddenly she could see Sansa crying and screaming whilst she was being held hostage by Lord Bolton himself as his hands grasped at her chest and fumbled with her skirts, head pressed against her neck and defiling her with his tongue. Now Rhaena felt nothing but her own fury as it rose up once again with a howling wind which swept through the hall, as if summoned by magic. She launched herself at Lord Bolton with her knife in hand to thrust it with all her might at his back where she miraculously found a chink in his armour, allowing her steel to taste flesh and drink upon his blood. The sharp bolt of pain forced him to let Sansa go and Rhaena grasped hold of her in order to drag her away as Lady snarled and jumped, clamping her jaw around Lord Bolton's arm and began to tear at it with her long teeth, crushing bone and mauling him until his pained cries joined those of the dying. "Lady!" Calling for her with a shout, Rhaena was eager to flee from this place with Sansa, but she hesitated in order to find Talisa and Lady Catelyn. Her eyes fell to the floor. There she lay, gaping and lifeless, her dress stained with the wet pools of her blood over her stomach where her hands had rested, mutilated and utterly dead. Rhaena cried out once again for sorrow and anguish. Talisa and her child were gone.
"Lord Walder!" Cutting through the bloodshed and the cries, Lady Catelyn's voice roused Rhaena from her shock in order to see her standing before the head table with a knife in her hand whilst holding Lord Walder's wife, Joyeuse Frey, hostage. "Lord Walder, enough! Let it end! Please!" Frantic with fear, Lady Catelyn turned her head whilst ignoring the pain of the arrow bolt in her shoulder, eyes sweeping the hall until they fell upon her daughter Sansa who had fainted against Lady, but was safely in the clutches of Rhaena. The young girl stared back at her with her mouth agape, terrified but pleading. A conflicting sense of relief and horror washed over Lady Catelyn as she saw her daughter with the silver haired girl who had already sacrificed so much to protect her. If Sansa was with Rhaena, then Lady Catelyn felt certain that Rhaena would fight to her last breath to protect Sansa, perhaps even giving her life for her safety, but right now it was unlikely either girl would make it to freedom with their lives. For the moment Lord Walder was paying attention to her, however her daughter and ward were faced with several men with their swords pointed to them and arrow bolts trained from above. Even Lady would not be able to protect them for long. All Lady Catelyn could do was bargain for their release. "Let the girls go. Let them go and I swear that we will forget this! I swear it by the old gods and the new! We will take no vengeance."
"You already swore me one oath right here in my castle. You swore by all the gods your son would marry my daughter!" Lord Walder retorted spitefully as Rhaena glanced around her. Five men faced them and she was confident she could manage at least one and Lady another, but that was all. Lady was not a fighter like Grey Wind and Nymeria. Despite her current ferocity and defensiveness she was a gentle creature, and all it would take was for one of the other men to turn and thrust his blade through Lady to kill her whilst she was distracted by her kill.
"Take me for a hostage but let the girls go!"
"And why I would let them do that? Why let two girls go when I could have two Stark women for hostages, you his mother and the other his sister, and a third to take to my bed and fuck until she's filled with my bastard?" The thought of being forced to carry any child of Lord Walder was so horrifying, Rhaena would gladly choose death as a preferable alternative. Anger boiled within her as the heat of her body continued to spread itself through her until even her fingertips began to tingle with a strange sense of power. She was no longer afraid. Dragons do not feal fear, or at least that was what she told herself as she stood with her dagger held outwards and her arm latched around Sansa's limp body, barely holding her upright. Lady Catelyn drew herself up and pressed the knife she held closer against the throat of Lord Walder's wife, bearing down against the treacherous lord with all her might and fury.
"On my honour as a Tully, on my honour as a Stark, let them go or I will cut your wife's throat!" This, however, had no effect upon the gutless Lord Walder Frey, who looked upon his wife passively before announcing that he would merely find another. Bearing herself down, Lady Catelyn turned her head and cried out with such force that even the men facing down the direwolf and the two girls jolted. "RUN!" Then without hesitation she smoothly brought the blade across Joyeuse's neck and opened it with a burst of scarlet. Lady snarled and jumped directly at the soldier in front of her as his head had turned in distraction, allowing Lady to bite into him and ravage at the soft parts of his flesh wherever she could reach them. "Run Rhaena! Flee! Take Sansa and run for your lives! Do not stop, do not stop until you are safe! Get away from.." Rhaena had already joined Lady in her attack, throwing herself bodily after dropping Sansa and slammed against two of the men who had not expected such a slight girl to fight back against them, but when Lady Catelyn's voice was suddenly cut off, Rhaena could not help herself. She turned and looked.
Lady Catelyn stood there with one of Lord Walder's sons behind her, Black Walder, her mouth open whilst staring directly back at Rhaena. For a moment it seemed as if nothing was wrong, that Lady Catelyn had simply fallen silent of her own volition, but then came the red line which opened at her neck, pooling and gathering before all at once it burst free like a fountain. Screeching against the truth, Rhaena attempted to charge forwards but was seized around the middle though she kicked and struggled, her knife now lost in the chaos as Rhaena stretched out her hands to Lady Catelyn who swayed upon her feet. She screamed so intensely she felt her own throat shred itself, seemingly ripping open as Lady Catelyn fell to the ground all at once and moved no more. The heat fled from her, replaced by a hollow coldness which felt as if winter had come and it had taken possession entirely of Rhaena Targaryen. She stared at the motherly figure of Lady Catelyn until she was blinded by her own tears, hot and salty as they reached her mouth and flowed down her cheeks. The heat sparked once more within her and something inside her snapped.
The next series of events became something of a blur to Rhaena. She could remember very little. There was fire. A lot of fire. She seemed to faintly recall a swirling mass of bright flames dancing around her. People were screaming. The pressure of restraint suddenly vanished and was free to move as she pleased. Uncontrollable anguish and wrath burned through her entire body as images shifted between utter blackness and bright golden flames which roared and crackled in her ears. She imagined they sounded like a dragon would have when they roared. Somehow Rhaena had managed to think of Sansa and the next thing she knew, Sansa was in her arms. Lady was with them, a faint flash of amber eyes and a bloodstained maw staring at her. Whatever it was that had happened, Rhaena was certain it had come from her. It were as if her body was moving of its own accord and her mind simply seemed to know what to do whilst not fully being conscious herself. The air tasted of smoke and ashes, Sansa's body light in her arms as she dragged her from the hall. Rhaena wished for them to be far, far away from that place, and somehow it was made so. Flames had engulfed them, covering their bodies until no one could bear to look upon them. Even Lord Walder cowered in fear as the image of a dragon rose up in a wreathe of flames and spread its wings, bellowing in a sound which sounded caught between mourning and fury. Then with a crash of light and heat, the image vanished and in its place stood a clear circle of blackened stone, ash and the burned bodies of his men who had been caught by the vengeful flames.
Now all that remained were the last few flickers, eating away at the tables and cloths, reflected in the vast pools of blood which smothered the floor. The fire danced upon the blood, and with a sudden sweep of foreboding, Lord Walder Frey recalled the words of an ancient and terrible House, and the fact that one such daughter remained of that bloodline whom he had been ordered to capture along with the Stark women. Fire and blood. Now it rang true, and Lord Walder began to fear the return of such a girl to seek her vengeance, for the fire and blood before him seemed to act as a vow and a reminder. Rhaena Targaryen. He was a fool not to have taken her captive sooner, she and all the Stark oath-breakers. It would be his undoing, he was certain of it, for now he had nothing left for Lord Tywin, not even the death of Robb Stark which had been the goal all along. In his head, the Rains of Castamere still echoed as if mocking him, promising the retribution of Lord Tywin Lannister upon his head for his failure to fulfil his bargain. Ah…but he did have something of value. Lord Edmure Tully. He was still in his grasp even if he was bedding his daughter at this very moment. It was something and not an entire loss, for with the Lord of Riverrun, the Riverlands would be theirs. It was something. Something. Lord Walder could only hope it was enough to keep his head, and pray that the Targaryen girl would meet some unfortunate demise elsewhere before she had the chance to return for him. Rhaena Targaryen.
May she rot in the seven hells.