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Winterfell
Two Months Later
By the time Lady Melisandre arrived back in Winterfell, word of Daenerys Targaryen's alliance with House Stark had already reached the queen.
After a day of settling into her chambers, she was summoned to speak with Bellegere in the godswood.
Beneath the heart tree, the wolf sat cross legged. She lazily cleaned her greatsword with a cloth in the water of the black pond beside her. Having hunted earlier that day.
Even though it gleamed in the winter sun, she continued to lavish it with attention.
As Melisandre approached, the young queen gestured for her to sit down.
"I'm grateful for your safe return, my lady," Bellegere said sincerely. "I must say, I was rather worried you wouldn't survive the trip."
She tilted her head curiously.
"Why is that, your grace?"
"Targaryens are not known for their kindness. She could have easily fed you to her dragons. Simply because you stood before her as my Hand."
"Queen Daenerys was rather welcoming, due to her fondness of Red Priests," Melisandre informed her.
"She was also very appreciative of you and Lady Narha's gesture of good faith towards her. She says that it will not be forgotten."
Bellegere nodded as she sheathed her blade and gestured for her to continue.
"I urged Daenerys to summon you once she arrives at Dragonstone. I thought that you should meet as swiftly as possible. It is best to know your allies, and gain a level of trust for them before going to war."
"Very good," Bellegere said, offering her a small smile. "When should we expect her to arrive?"
"In approximately six months."
The queen hummed, furrowing her brow.
"Do you believe Daenerys will really allow the North to remain independent?"
"I do," Melisandre said honestly. "I believe once she meets you, she will realize the risk of making you an enemy is not worth the reward."
Bellegere chuckled, making her smile.
"Well, since you've been gone, Jon has left with the wildlings to scout for white walkers beyond the wall. They want to bring one back with them to convince any skeptics among our bannermen and, eventually, Daenerys," the queen said with a deep sigh.
"Also, the king consort has traveled to Raventree Hall to visit his brother, Lord Hoster Blackwood, and assess the new soldiers being trained there. If he finds them worthy, they will march north to join our forces."
The queen's worry was apparent, though she tried to hide it.
"Upon Lord Blackwood and Lord Tully's insistance, we have decided to end House Frey and take the Twins. As a result, we would gain full control of the Riverlands and it's fertile land, and we would gain a great advantage over the enemy forces."
Melisandre's brows rose, and a small smile twitched at her lips.
"This is a very good idea, your grace," she said, proudly. "It would send a strong message to Cersei Lannister and King Tommen. It would also show Daenerys that you're a capable military strategist."
When the queen pursed her lips and looked away, she frowned deeply.
"If it is Jon you worry about, you have no need. He can take care of himself," Melisandre said reassuringly. "And so can your king."
Bellegere smiled ruefully, chuckling to herself.
"Have you ever loved anyone, my lady," she asked, locking eyes with her.
"I mean, well and truly loved them more than words could convey."
Melisandre hummed as a sea of memories washed across her mind.
"I have."
Throughout her many lives, she had loved numerous people. Each one just as important as the last.
Except for the ones that she was forced to love from a distance. Those were the loves she remembered the most.
"Then, you understand why I will never stop worrying about them," she said quietly.
There was a long pause before she spoke again. As if she were pondering whether she should confess something or not.
"In truth, I haven't slept since Brynden left. I miss his warmth. I can't stop thinking about something happening to him. What if he is ambushed or captured somehow?"
Melisandre took the other woman's hand and held it in her own. It was colder than she expected it to be, so she rubbed it gently.
"I understand your trepidation, but I'm sure all will be fine, your grace. King Brynden is a capable fighter and beloved by the North and our soldiers. He will be protected."
Bellegere sighed quietly.
"I appreciate your reassurance."
When Melisandre glanced at her queen, a silver eye was already staring back at her intensely.
"Never betray me," Bellegere said, squeezing her hand tightly.
Beneath the stoic mask the wolf always displayed, she could see the vulnerability.
Something she rarely displayed.
"Swear that you won't. Before the heart tree."
When Melisandre was asked to be her Hand, she knew that it was a display of profound trust and respect, but only now did she understand how important she'd become over the past few years.
The Red Priestess wondered if Bellegere knew how devoted she was to her. If not, she would make it her mission to show her.
"Never," Melisandre declared, holding her queen's gaze. "I swear it by the Old Gods and the new."
As the wolf smiled, she realized that her original purpose for following her was null and void.
Melisandre didn't view her as just Azor Ahai anymore. She was more than a prophecy.
Bellegere was her closest friend.
Gaining the trust of the wolf was no small feat.
And she knew the consequences of breaking that trust were worse than death.
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When Brynden Blackwood finally returned home, he'd been gone for one month and fifteen days. He had counted.
Each one was more painful than the last.
However, when the gate opened and he saw his wife waiting impatiently for him, his aching heart swelled with warmth.
The queen's plump lips pulled into a smile as he dismounted his horse.
"My queen."
"My king," Bellegere said as he bowed before her. "I hope your trip was pleasant."
He grimaced.
"It was dreadfully uneventful."
Brynden towered over her, dressed in his signature, burnished scarlet armor.
Inlayed in silver, the dead weirwood tree of Raventree Hall lie in the center of his torso, surrounded by onyx ravens taking flight.
His father's magnificent, raven-feathered cloak hung from his shoulders.
On his hip sat Unkindness, his house's ancestral sword. The dark, valyrian steel blade was adorned with a twisted, weirwood grip, and a raven-head pommel with rubies for eyes.
"I would rather you be bored than dead, your grace," Bellegere said, smiling up at him.
"Welcome home."
Forgetting about their audience, Brynden grabbed his wife's hand and pressed a lingering kiss to it.
"I've missed you terribly, beloved."
Bellegere gazed into his slate blue eyes, feeling her face blush against her will.
"As I've missed you, my husband."
The king consort was welcomed by a grand feast, attended by all of the noble lords of the North.
However, he and his wife only stayed for a short time. Neither of them could enjoy the festivities, as they were completely distracted by each other.
They wound up in their bedchamber, alone and blissfully content with each other's presence.
Brynden lie back against the headboard with his wife on his chest. Both of them naked as the day they were born.
"Are you comfortable?"
The lean, sculpted muscles of his abdomen tensed as her fingers drew patterns on his skin. She traced a scar left over from the battle they fought almost two years prior.
"Very," Bellegere mumbled distractedly. "Are you?"
He sighed contentedly, carressing her back.
"I am."
They strove to end every day this way.
It helped them wind down from the duties and formalities they adhered to during the day.
Now, they were trying to relax into one another after being apart for the first time since they met.
However, Brynden was very worried.
"Now that Daenerys has accepted our proposal, what is the next step you want to take?"
"We wait for her arrival," Bellegere said simply.
"Once she reaches Dragonstone, we will combine our forces and begin strategizing our siege on King's Landing."
He stroked his beard thoughtfully.
"Let's presume that we succeed in taking King's Landing and she helps us defeat the Night King. What if she decides to challenge you for dominion over the North?"
"In that case, I would declare war. Regardless of the fact that she has dragons. It is my duty as queen to defend the North, no matter what."
As Brynden frowned, she sat up to look at him.
"I understand, but that decision could very well be certain death for you and House Stark."
Bellegere's nostrils flared.
"My king, may I ask a favor of you?"
He nodded.
"Could we forgo talk of war tonight? I don't know about you, but I'm more happy than I've been in years," Bellegere said with a deep sigh.
"Almost all of my siblings have returned home and, finally, my handsome husband lies beneath me, in all of his naked glory. I only wish to discuss things that don't fill us with forboding."
Brynden chuckled and pecked her lips.
"Absolutely. What do you have in mind?"
She pretended to think for a moment.
"How about the fact that you've yet to give me any daughters," Bellegere said, glaring at him.
Brynden blushed and leaned back as she pushed her finger into his chest.
"No matter how much I beg, you refuse to concede. When I said I expect you to give me heirs, I did not specify only male heirs."
When he burst out laughing, she joined him.
"We are still young, beloved. We have plenty of years to try," Brynden said fondly. "I promise, one day, I will give you all the daughters you desire. In truth, I've hoped for daughters as well."
"But how many children do you truly want? I won't begrudge you."
He didn't have to think.
"As many as you're willing to give me," Brynden said earnestly. "Whether we have two or ten, they will be loved and taken care of. And, they will all learn the sword as every child of ours should."
Whatever attraction she felt toward him multiplied by a hundred at his words.
"Your journey home was long. Are you tired?"
Brynden's brows rose slightly.
"I feel fine. Why do you ask?"
Bellegere hummed as her hand wandered beneath the furs. Her eye traced his face slowly, and she licked her lips.
"Do you wish to try for a daughter?"
His breath hitched as she teased her fingertips over his manhood. Being in bed with her was enough to have him excited already. Especially, after being apart for so long.
"Absolutely," Brynden declared eagerly, before pausing. "If it please you?"
Bellegere smirked.
"It certainly would."
As Brynden climbed on top of her, parting her legs to accommodate him, she was unable to keep her hands to herself. They wandered over his hairy chest and up to his neck.
He began to scoot down the bed to bring her pleasure with his mouth, but she stopped him.
"Are you certain," Brynden asked, kissing her stomach softly.
"I can assure you, it would be an honor."
Bellegere trembled, almost caving as his tongue swirled against her skin.
"We will have time for that later. I need to feel you inside me right now."
He smiled against her skin.
"In what way?"
"I want to look upon your face."
Over the past three years, her husband grew from a lanky young man with little to no confidence, to a well muscled, charismatic warrior.
The physical and mental changes were great, but even more so as it pertained to his performance during their intimate encounters.
Brynden Blackwood was a very large man.
Every bit of seven feet tall, with hands and feet and legs to match.
The rest of him was no different.
It could be a blessing for a man who knows what he's doing, and a curse for one who does not.
And when they married, he didn't have a clue.
"Breathe," Brynden urged as he entered her slowly. "Relax."
She obeyed, cursing under her breath as she felt him inside her for the first time in over a month.
After a few unpleasant experiences when they first married, she realized that she needed to communicate with him. Instead of pretending it didn't hurt.
With many hours of teaching, Bellegere taught him how to truly please a woman, and she reaped the benefits of her effort often.
Not only due to the pleasure he gave her, but in the way it strengthened their relationship and communication skills.
Even before they fell in love with each other, they came to realize that sex was more than just a duty within a marriage.
It was an experience that could meld two souls into one, if only for a limited time.
Now, they seldom missed an opportunity to indulge in one another. Striving to be as close to each other physically, as they were emotionally.
"How is that," Brynden asked as he pushed deeper inside her. "Is there any pain?"
Bellegere shook her head with her eye shut tight.
"The pain is good."
He chuckled as she writhed beneath him.
"Remember, you can stop me at any time."
Whilst he moved with precision and skill, turning her insides into molten lava, she stared up at him lustfully. She never desired a man until him, but now she only desired him.
Where once her mind would wander to her past lover, now she could barely focus on anything but her husband and what he was doing to her body.
Brynden kissed his wife deeply, feeling her legs tremble against his sides and her nails digging into his lower back.
When he pulled away, her soft lips tickled his as she spoke to him breathlessly.
"Harder."
Brynden watched her lean body strain as he obeyed her command. She glistened with sweat, making her tan skin glow beneath the candlelight of their bedchamber.
When Bellegere whimpered his name and weakly pushed against his hips, he almost Iost his composure.
It was the way she looked at him.
With pleasure and pain and need in her eye.
"I know, beloved. But you wanted this, didn't you," Brynden murmured in his deep, soothing voice.
"Should I slow down?"
Bellegere cursed as he continued to thrust deeper into her, making the bed creak loudly.
"No. I...can take it."
He removed her hands from his hips and held them above her head. His other hand caressed his breasts and then wrapped around her throat.
"You can and you will."
Brynden knew that his wife would always have a preference for women.
He could tell from her lingering glances at the red woman and even her friend, Mya Stone.
He even knew that she did not find him attractive until nearly a year after they married.
No matter how discouraging this was, all Brynden ever wanted was to please her the way she needed to be pleased.
Make her feel safe enough to let down her guard and give up control after a day filled with queenly responsibilities.
The way she gazed deeply into his eyes let him know that he was doing all of that and more.
"I want you on top," he said, halting his movements. "Can you do that for me?"
Bellegere could only nod. Unable to speak as he was seated so deeply within her.
When Brynden switched their positions, his wife sat atop him, moving with well practiced grace.
"Fucking hell," Bellegere gasped.
She gripped his shoulders painfully as he helped her ride him. His large hands guided her along until they moved in harmony with one another.
Effortlessly insync.
"Gods, I've missed you," Brynden said through gritted teeth. "Tell me how it feels."
Bellegere's back arched as her climax began to build gradually. At this point, she could barely control her movements. Instinct had taken ahold of her.
He could feel her body constricting around him and he knew it wouldn't be long before they both exploded.
"You feel so good," she panted in his ear, licking and sucking it seductively.
"If you ever make me wait this long again, I swear to the gods..."
Brynden grasped her hips tighter as he released a deep, guttural moan. The primal sound only served to make her move faster and harder in his lap. Eager and willing to please him.
When Bellegere connected their foreheads together, fingers threading through his hair, he knew what she needed from him.
Brynden whispered words of love and devotion to her, never breaking eye contact. Telling her how much he missed her and desired her, over and over again.
As if wildfire were ignited, Bellegere exploded.
Brynden growled and followed her into oblivion.
They climaxed together, holding onto one another tightly. The waves of pleasure rushed through their bodies for what seemed like an eternity.
"Gods," Bellegere groaned as she came down.
"I needed that."
While her king tried to catch his breath, she put her arms around his neck and placed lingering kisses to his temple. His long arms snaked around her body, holding her against his chest.
Their hearts beat as one.
"That was heavenly," Brynden murmured.
"Now we must pray for a healthy daughter."
She tucked her face into his neck, smiling.
"In truth, I don't care what sex our next child will be. I just want us to have as many as possible," Bellegere said quietly.
"And why is that, beloved?"
"Because you're a good husband, and an even better father. If I'm honest, I don't know how I got so lucky."
After a long moment of silence, Brynden pushed her away, and grasped her face in his hands.
"Do you truly mean that?"
She nodded, enraptured by his intense gaze.
"Of course I do. With all my heart."
His thumbs stroked her cheeks gently, as if she might disintegrate. The emotion in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine.
In them, Bellegere thought she saw insecurity.
She frowned, wondering why she never noticed this before. In her mind, there was nothing for him to be insecure about. She was confident in all of his capabilities.
"Bellegere," Brynden whispered hoarsely, holding himself together by a thread.
"Thank you for trusting me to become the husband and king that you needed. Thank you for being the best mother and wife I could have hoped for."
Bellegere kissed him, lest she drown in a waterfall of sentimental tears.
"There is no reason to thank me, husband," she murmured softly.
She brushed a long strand of hair from his beautiful eyes.
There was never a shade so blue.
"You are, and have always been, the man I needed. And I'm the woman you see now because of the way our relationship has helped me grow. Don't doubt your value, my love. Because I never do."
When he blushed, Bellegere saw a glimpse of the boy that he once was.
Hidden deep within this giant of a man. Behind the scars and the muscle and the soldier mentality, that shy young man was still there.
"Perhaps I don't tell you enough, and for that, I apologize," Bellegere said quietly.
"But know that I love you, Brynden Blackwood. All of you. Infinitely."
When tears fell from his eyes, he apologized and tried to wipe them away, but Bellegere would not have it.
"You are allowed to cry," she said adamantly. "Don't ever apologize for displaying your emotions. Especially, not to me."
Once he allowed himself to release the emotions that he'd held back for so long, she kissed all of his tears away. Each and every one.
That night, while Brynden held his sleeping wife within the darkness of their room, he thanked the gods for bringing them together.
With all his heart, he prayed that the wars to come would not separate them.
For, Bellegere and their beautiful children meant more to him than words could ever convey.
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Four Months Later
Queen Bellegere Stark stood stiffly, her jaw clenched, as her husband's hand rested on her swollen belly.
"Everything will be fine, beloved," Brynden tried to reassure her.
"Our army vastly outnumbers House Frey's and we're taking them by surprise. I will be back before you can miss me."
"I should be fighting by your side."
Brynden shook his head.
"I would want nothing more, but you are with child," he said. "My duty is to stay alive, and yours is to take care of yourself. Worry is not good for the babe."
Bellegere sighed, taking his hand in her own.
"I swear by the Old Gods and the new, if you die," she trailed off.
Brynden leaned down and kissed her forehead.
"You'll bring me back and kill me yourself."
As the couple said their farewells, Mya Stone interrupted them.
"I will make sure the king returns safely, your grace. I promise."
Bellegere locked eyes with her old friend, and felt her heart seize within her chest.
In a haze of worry over her husband, she had forgotten that Mya would be fighting alongside him.
She glanced at Brynden and he stepped away to give them privacy.
"And why would you protect him," Bellegere asked, moving closer to her. "You hate him."
Mya looked away from her.
"Because you love him."
The queen studied her critically.
"He said the same of you," she said, gaining the other woman's attention. "He promised me that he would protect you for the same reason."
Mya frowned, glancing over at the king.
"I don't care how much resentment you hold towards me or Brynden. When it comes to war, we're all on the same side."
Bellegere paused, sighing heavily.
She placed her hand on Mya's arm and leaned closer to her.
"Just as I love him, I love you. I always have," she whispered, holding back tears. "Please come back in one piece. Alys, Cregan, and Torrhen will be waiting, and so will I."
Mya glanced down at her love's swollen belly and then up into her reddened eye with a heavy heart.
"I will try my best, your grace."
"That is all I ask."
When Bellegere walked away to speak to her husband once more, someone else came to stand beside her.
"What do you want now," Mya groaned.
"Do you remember what I told you, my lady?"
She rolled her eyes, scowling.
"I told you to put a leash on your jealousy before it becomes a monster that you cannot control," Melisandre repeated, raising a brow at her.
"Whatever ill feelings you hold towards the king consort need to be forgotten henceforth. Or else, you will regret it."
"I've had enough of you spewing your nonsense in my ear," Mya sneered. "Mind your own fucking business, witch."
Melisandre pursed her lips, sighing deeply.
"As you are dear to the queen, you are my business. However, I fear you are too far gone."
When the witch walked away from her, Mya glared at her back.
But, as she watched Bellegere kiss her husband goodbye, her stomach twisted violently.
Mya asked herself if Melisandre was right.
One Week Later
The Twins
Smoke rose into the sky from some distant flame. The sound of men screaming echoed in the air, and the smell of horseshit and blood stung her nose.
Mya held her the gash in her arm while she caught her breath.
Upon their arrival, Walder Frey and his army still didn't know that the queen's men were coming to rip them out, root and stem.
The Northern forces wasted no time in storming the first castle on the banks of the river.
In all reality, the Frey army stood no chance, and they knew it.
However, they still put up one hell of a fight.
"My lady!"
Mya gasped as she was knocked down.
The breath rushed out of her as she hit the ground hard.
Above her, King Brynden swung his valyrian steel sword with precision and raw power as he fought off her would be attacker.
She scooted away from the men hastily and her hands seached the ground for her sword.
When a pained scream echoed in her ears, she looked up with wide eyes.
Brynden fell to his knees with a blade protruding through his right shoulder. His own weapon lie on the ground beside him.
Mya found her sword and rushed to her feet to help him.
However, a thought kept her from moving.
A thought so treasonous and appealing that her body constricted, unable to move forward.
What if Brynden Blackwood died?
What would she gain?
Mya's jealousy and heartbreak would not allow her to see reason.
In her mind, he was the only thing stopping Bellegere from being with her. He was an obstacle that needed to be overcome.
Bellegere had convinced herself that she loved him, but once he was gone she wouldn't need to pretend anymore.
She would finally have the woman that she always wanted.
The woman that was once her's.
Mya lowered her sword and watched the scene unfold, as still as a statue.
When the Frey soldier ripped his sword from the king's flesh violently and lifted it over his head to deal the killing blow, Brynden closed his eyes.
"Beloved," he whispered.
He prayed to the gods for the safety of his wife and their young children.
He prayed that Bellegere would find him in the afterlife, so that they might live an eternity together without the threat of being separated ever again.
However, the deadly blow never came.
"My king, are you alright?"
Brynden opened his eyes to find a young soldier hovering over him and the Frey lying dead on the ground. The soldier's eyes were focused on something just behind him.
"I'll be fine," the king said, holding his shoulder. "What is going on?"
He turned around to find a group of his men surrounding Lady Mya Stone.
"We all saw it," Lord Smalljon boomed. "What the bloody hell were you thinking, woman?"
Mya did not budge as the men yelled abuse at her. Her mind was fixated on the fact that the king was still alive. She pondered how she became so horribly tainted with bad luck.
"What is the meaning of this," Brynden demanded. "You should all be fighting. The battle is not over until we take both castles."
Smalljon Umber pointed to Mya with a scowl.
"With the Old Gods as my witness, this woman stood by and did nothing as you were about to be executed, your grace," he spat venomously. "Every man here can vouch as well."
Brynden frowned deeply as every soldier present murmured their agreement.
"Is this true, Lady Stone?"
Mya refused to look at him.
Instead, she stared at the ground.
"Your grace, you're bleeding very bad," the young soldier interjected. "You should see a maester."
Brynden remained silent as he focused on his wife's best friend. He'd attempted to save her from certain death, but when it was his turn to be saved she completely abandoned him.
He glared down at her.
The only thing he could think about was the despair Bellegere would feel when she found out what happened here, and the distress it would cause her.
"Has it truly come to this?"
The king moved in close, towering over her menacingly. She refused to look him in the eyes.
"You clearly have no clue what you've just done," he whispered harshly.
"May the gods have mercy on your soul. Because you and I both know that Bellegere will not."
Mya spat at his feet, but did not utter a word.
He curled his lip in disgust and walked away.
"I want her in chains," Brynden commanded in his booming voice.
"The rest of you, on me. This ends now."
As Mya was carried away from the battle, her feet drug across the ground carelessly.
All she felt was profound disappointment that Brynden Blackwood was still alive.