Chapter 2
By the time Avariella made it back into the castle, the sun had begun to set. The sky had started to turn into a canvas of orange and dill yellows, and a soft breeze swept through the Twins. By that time her tears had dried, though her cheek still throbbed, and she could still taste the blood near her mouth from her cut. Black Walder had done far worse to others, that she knew, but that had been the first time her bastard brother had ever hit her.
That had been the first time any of her brothers, true or base born, had ever hit her. Strangely enough, it didn't phase as much as she thought it would, whenever she had thought her brothers capable of hitting their sisters. She felt no hurt or pain in her heart, the only thing that was painful was her cheek. Avariella knew her eyes were red-rimmed and wet, and undoubtedly a bruise had begun to form on the side of her cheek and when she lifted her hand to her face as she walked, it had begun to swell as well.
She traced the bruised area with her fingers, nearly wincing at the pain. She dropped her hand the moment she reached the gates of the castle, and she was suddenly hit with the realisation that she would have to sneak in so that no one would see the bruise on her face. No doubt the honourable King in the North wouldn't like that; a brother hitting his sister for her rudeness she thought bitterly, a small scowl making its way onto her face.
She could hear their loud voices even from out there, could hear the distant sounds of laughter and from where she stood she could see the Water Tower peeking out from behind the East castle, and its windows were lit with candles. The Water Tower was only used for royal or important guests, and she remembered going outside in the weeks before the King's arrival and watching the servants clean the tower. Bringing in new silk sheets and dusting and washing floors. Avariella could not remember the last time the Water Tower was used, she knew it had been used of course, at some point, but not in her lifetime. It was slightly strange, she thought, that tower has been dead all my life, and now it is alive with the people I want—
She frowned at herself, her stomach churning at the direction of her thoughts. She hated them, there was no doubt in her heart about that, but wishing them dead was a whole other matter. One which she had come across when she first found out of Robb Stark's betrayal after her brother's death. Avariella remembered how she had inwardly cursed him, how she had prayed to the gods for vengeance. For him to know her grief, to know how she felt. It was then that she had remembered the deaths of the two Stark boys months prior, and how even in her grief filled state she felt guilty for wishing such a fate on children. It turned out that they were not dead of course, the news had emerged when the King in the North and the Dragon Queen had taken Kings Landing. That Theon Greyjoy had never killed them in the first place, and had burned two farm boy's instead so his men would not know that he failed.
She knew that the youngest had been returned to them, but the second eldest son— Bran, she thought his name was— had left his brother with their wildling caretaker to go somewhere unknown to them. Arya Stark had returned to her mother and brother in the Riverlands, with Sandor Clegane at her side, if the rumours of her companion's identity were true. Avariella felt bitterness course through her body as her fists clenched at her side. Robb Stark won the war, and got out of it nearly unscathed. He got his vengeance for his father and brother, and the ill-treatment of his sister and now he was marching home with the woman he loved, where he would be safe and warm in his castle. A burnt castle, but anything broken can be rebuilt, and Avariella knew that Winterfell was not beyond repair, even if it had been burnt to the ground by the Ironborn. The thought of Robb Stark getting to see thirty and fifty, and getting to hold his sons and daughters in his arms while her brother rotted in the ground was enough to make her want to scream and claw at her eyes in anger and grief.
She gazed at the East castle once more and knew instinctively that she would not be able to enter through the main door unseen. The only other entrance inside the castle that was relatively close to her chamber stairs was near the side of the looming castle, the back door. Avariella did not like the idea of going through the courtyards and the training pen alone, but knew she had no other choice. If the castle hallways stunk of mead and sex, the courtyards and pens were far. far worse. It was always cluttered together, an odour of sweat and mud always lingering in the air. Avariella had lost count of how many times she had unwillingly stumbled upon two people fucking in the alleyways and flinched at the memory of when she had caught a servant girl and one of her baseborn brother's having sex in the stables. She was hesitant to go there ever since. And yet Avariella knew she had no choice, and that if she was seen with a bruise on her face her father would grow even more angrier with her and have worse done to her than a mere bruise on her face. Always a paragon of kindness and understanding, my father she thought and began to walk to the right, away from the main entrance of the castle.
Her hair flew into her face and she brushed it aside quickly, tucking a strand behind her ear. She kept her head ducked as to hide the mark on her face and walked quickly. The odour immediately hit her nose and she resisted the urge to cough loudly, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She could hear the sounds of swords clanging together, and cups of mead slamming together, drunken laughter following immediately afterwards. She was as stiff as a tree, and had wrapped her arms around her, as though she were protecting herself. She could feel their eyes on her body as she walked, could feel them leering at her and it made her insides clench with disgust. Almost there, she reassured herself, and made herself walk faster, so that she was almost jogging. Whenever she ventured down here, rare as it was, she always had Max be brought to her before she did. Her dog was loyal and feared throughout the Twins because of—
"My lady," his voice groaned, and she halted in her step because he had side stepped in front of her, clutching a cup of mead in his hands. Think of the man and he shall appear she thought and made no effort to try and hide her disdain.
"Ser Trent," she replied coldly, eyeing the door behind him, "A pleasure to see you."
He took a large, messy gulp from his tankard and she watched as some of the mead escaped his lips and dribbled down his scarred chin. He wiped at it with his sleeve and swayed from right to left, barely able to stand on his legs.
"What is a lady like you doing here by herself?" he asked, his mud brown eyes leering at her as he eyed her chest.
"Walking," she answered shortly, and lifted her head to look him directly in the eye. Don't show him that your afraid, she told herself, he will use it against you as he did before.
His eyes darted from her cleavage up to her face and he rudely gestured at it, "What happened to your pretty face?"
"I fell, Ser," she told him flatly, and moved to go around him, before his hand latched onto her elbow.
"Don't you know its dangerous for you to be here all by yourself?" he asked, leaning dangerously forward, his grip tightening on her wrist.
Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, she chanted inwardly.
"I remember," she said darkly, and glanced meaningfully at the hand latched onto her elbow, where two fingers were missing. His cheeks reddened at the memory and he instantly let her go, and took a step away from her.
"That dog of your's is dangerous," he spat at her, his mead spilling on the ground.
"Only to those who wish to harm me, Ser," she said, and watched in satisfaction as his face paled with fear.
He stumbled away from her, and she took the opportunity to hurry into the castle, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. She turned a corner and stopped walking, fear and relief making her muscles sag and her legs feel like feathers. She leaned against the wall to support herself and lifted her heart to her chest, and felt as though it were about to rip out of it, it was beating so fast. She remembered that night, remembered his clammy hands clutching at her body. She was haunted by the fear in her veins, by the feeling of his weight on top of her body as she struggled to get away. Avariella remembered how Max had bitten at his fingers, tearing two of them right off. She remembered scrambling back on all fours, her dress torn and her hair haphazard. She could still hear his snarls, and how his snout was stained with blood. She thought of how Ser Trent had withered on the ground in pain, and how Roslin had wrapped her in a cloak. It was a wonder Max had been allowed to live.
That had been nearly two years ago, a few months after Avos and Olyvar had ridden off to war and Avariella was not surprised by how it haunted her still.
She took a deep breath, and waited for her heart to calm. Once it did, and what was little of her strength returned to her, she forced herself off the wall unsteadily but pushed herself forward until she reached the chamber corridor and practically limped her way down to her room. The hall was eerily quiet as she walked down it, and it occurred to her that most of her sisters and nieces were probably still down in the great hall, talking to Edmure Tully in the hopes that they would be his bride.
Avariella pushed the door open and managed to stumble into the room and collapsed onto the bed, and curled into a ball. It's over she thought, its done. It occurred to Avariella that she was far more affected by the incident now than she had been after it had happened. She had been scared and wary of course, and seldom did anything without Max accompanying her, but she had been comforted by the fact that when Avos and Olyvar returned, they would protect her. They would bring him to justice even though her father did not and the thought made her smile. Then Olyvar had returned with the rest of his brothers and not with the one she wanted there the most and she had made Roslin and Shirei promise to never speak of it too him. The rest of the household had nearly forgotten, or simply had not cared enough to mention it.
She clutched at the furs beneath her fingers, and held onto it as though it were her anchor. She breathed in and out softly, and waited for the feeling to fade away. Her eyes began too droop and she managed to shift herself beneath the furs, but not before removing her boots. She closed her eyes and welcomed the darkness that awaited her, when their was a knock on the door. Her eyes opened hesitantly, her heart jumping in her chest. Her room was pitch black, the sun having set and no candles were lit. She forced herself out of bed, and rubbed at her eyes before opening the door to reveal a nervous Roslin. The light from the hall blinded her eyes for a moment, and she blinked rapidly to adjust. The sight of her elder sister was a slight shock to her and the moment her eyes had adjusted she looked at her suspiciously. Her sister's honey coloured hair fell down her shoulders, though the upper half had been pulled up into a intricate bun. No doubt Shirei's work, she thought to herself, she always did have a talent for doing hair. Avariella ignored the voice that whispered, because you taught her. Roslin's dress was a warm shade of brown, with embroidered leaves spreading from her arms to around her chest. She looked every bit as beautiful as Avariella knew her to be and a small sliver of proudness crept into her heart as she looked at her.
Standing next to her, Avariella was suddenly aware of how disgruntled she looked, with her tangled red hair tumbling down her back, and her bruised face and dress whose skirts were stained with mud.
"What is it?" she asked her quietly.
Roslin flushed under her gaze and began to play with her hands, "Father has asked for all of his daughters to be at the feast this evening. You are the only one who is not there." She fidgeted uncomfortably and Avariella knew she was not done yet. Roslin swallowed as if on cue, and muttered, "He also ask's me to tell you that you are expected, to apologise to the King and Queen for your rudeness. They are currently in the Water Tower preparing for the feast, father expects you to be down before then, so he may speak to you as well." More like berate her and insult her, and by the way Roslin did not meet her eyes, she knew it too. Avariella sighed loudly and muttered, "Tell father I will be down as soon as I can. I will need to make myself more presentable."
At that, Roslin finally looked up at her face and gasped loudly, lifting a hand to her mouth.
"What. . ." she whispered, horror etched out onto her delicate features, "Who did that to you?"
"Doesn't matter," Avariella said shortly and they were both silent for a while.
"I can. . ." Roslin started hesitantly, her cheeks flushing a bright red. "I can help, if you'd like," she offered weakly, wringing her hands. Avariella gazed at her, and something inside her softened. The resolve she had weakened inside her as she stared at her sister, and was suddenly bombarded with memories of how close they used to be. Of how they would spend hours each day braiding each other's hair and complaining about their Septa and how boring learning about each house was. We were like sisters once, Avariella thought, her throat thick with emotion.
"That. . ." She cleared her throat, and smiled softly, the first smile she had given to Roslin in close to a year— or anyone else for that matter, "That's all right, thank you for the offer though."
Roslin swallowed uncomfortably, and looked away from her. Avariella knew she was stung by the rejection, but she couldn't. . . bare being near any of her previously close siblings for too long. It made the grief inside her unbearable, until she was drowning in it, with no hope of ever reaching the surface again.
Avariella changed quickly, shrugging off her brown, plain gown and her small clothes and quickly dressed into another. This dress was a black one, and was more tight around her waist, and more formal. It's skirts swished as she moved, and the silk was soft under her skin as she traced the edge with her hand, marvelling at it. She let her hair tumble down her back, unpinned and wild so as to hide her bruised cheek. She had wiped off the blood moments before, wincing at the slight pain. She had no powder's to use, for she had never seen the use of it nor liked it either.
She brushed her hair quickly, removing the tangles and tossed it back onto the table and with one last glance in the mirror hanging on the wall, she made herself take a deep breath to calm herself. No doubt her dear, lord father would wish to punish her for her insolence earlier. Be strong, she thought fiercely and blew out the candle she had lit near the bed, and walked out her chamber, her heart as heavy as a boulder in her chest.
The great hall had been largely rearranged since earlier in the day. Usually, the long tables which were usually turned so that they ate facing the wall, were now turned so that they looked up at the high table, where her father was currently sitting, his new young bride standing next to him, a sullen expression on her face.
Candles were lit around the room, and the tables were littered with golden plates and utensils. Avariellea was careful to hide her surprise at the extravagant decorations, she had always thought her father would wait until the wedding to make an impression, or to put in an effort to make the hall look more formal than it usually did. Most of her siblings were sitting on the left side of the room, the right was empty, waiting for their honoured guests to take their seats, whenever they arrived.
Avariella ignored the glances that were sent her way as she walked down the aisle in between the tables, her head held high. Her father was drinking from his cup— no doubt the liquid being wine— and glanced up at her, a scowl forming on his pale face. His wife looked between them nervously, her lower lip beginning to tremble. Avariella looked at her intently as she approached the high table, and came to the realisation that she had never actually had a proper conversation with her good mother, at least not a conversation alone. As a matter of fact, as she thought about it, she couldn't remember her name. What was it? she thought, trying to contain her frustration, Joyeuse. That's it!
She nodded at her good mother politely though she did not return he sentiment, too frozen with fear to do anything.
"Lord Walder," she called out, her voice echoing across the now silent hall, "You wished too speak with me."
Her father grunted loudly, and coughed, his hunched shoulders shaking with the movement. He eyed her with his watery eyes, the bridge of his nose red and his cheeks flushed. A scowl formed on his thin, dry lips and he looked at her with such distaste and annoyance Avariella nearly shrunk back and winced.
"What happened to your face?" he questioned, his eyes lingering on the bruise. Though Avariella knew it was not out of concern or worry for her, but more that he did not want the King in the North to accuse him of abusing his dear, darling innocent daughters, even if it was one who insulted him. She stiffened at the question, and refused the urge to cup her cheek and hide it from his gaze. For a moment she nearly considered lying to him, but a sudden anger pierced through her as she thought of Black Walder.
"My dear, darling elder brother did this, the lovely fellow who escorted me out of the hall earlier today," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I believe his words were—Perhaps that will snap some sense into ya? Was that it?" she asked, a smile forming on her face as she turned to look at Black Walder, who was eyeing her furiously.
"Is that true?" her father croaked, staring at his eldest bastard son.
Black Walder's eyes never left hers.
"I did it in a fit of rage, father, because she shamed you in front of our guests—"
"You bloody fool," her father snapped loudly, his blue eyes flashing, "She is one of the prettiest of my offspring! We can not have her gallivanting around with a large bruise on her face, can we? The Stark boy would walk out of here within a blink of an eye if he knew, you useless—" her father broke out into a fit of coughing then, and did not bother to cover his mouth.
Avariella watched her father, and observed Walder Frey in all of his glory. His scalp was balding, his nose was more like a beak and he could barely manage to say a few sentences without coughing.
"And you!" he spat venomously, his voice wheezy and he glared at her furiously, "You will apologise to the King and Queen for your comments earlier today—"
"I will not," she snapped. It was as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head, and a fire had been lit inside her at the same time.
"You will," he warned, glaring at her.
"No," she refused, taking a step away from the table, "I won't apologise for telling them what they really are!"
"YOU WILL APOLOGISE IF I SAY SO!" her father yelled, and rose from his chair, causing it too scrap back against the floor loudly. Avariella stared at him in shock, a lump forming in her throat.
"If you do not apologise and beg for forgiveness I will have that bloody dog of your's killed and wear his pet every day! I will then have his stupid little head put on a spike, is that clear girl?" he snapped, his eyes flaring at her.
Avariella swallowed loudly at that, and clasped her hands together. The hatred inside her burned through her throat to her stomach, eliminating all other feeling within her. She hated him, in a way that she never thought a daughter could.
"You may make me say the words," she said softly, lifting her eyes to meet his, her voice hard and her eyes unforgiving in their hatred, "But I will not mean them. I will never mean them. I may beg for forgiveness and inwardly wish that their heads were on spikes. I will say the words, but they will not be genuine. And for you, dear father," she said, her voice dropping deadly low, "I hope you realise how unloved and unwanted you truly are, even by your own children."
The hall was scarily silent after her words, and the waves of guilt that came over her was enormous, but she did not apologise. Her father looked momentarily shocked as well, his eyes widened and his skin became deathly pale.
"My lord," a wary voice called out from behind them, they all turned back to glance at the servant who interrupted the family meeting and he flushed under all of their gazes, "The King is here."
Her father fronted loudly and one more became his usual, crass self.
"Send him in," her father commanded and Avariella took that moment to treat from the high table, and walk towards an empty seat near the middle of the rows, aware of all of her siblings eyes on her. What did you just do? she thought incredulously. She drummed her fingers against the wooden table, and from the corner of her eye could see Roslin staring at her worriedly, biting on her lower lip. Avariella did not care to comfort her as she stared down at the plate laid out in front of her.
She heard the distant sound of the great hall door opening, and it was only when Roslin nudged her shoulder did she realise that they were all standing up, except for her. She rose hastily from her seat, and turned to face the aisle, where King Robb and Queen Talisa, Lady Catelyn, her brother and her uncle were walking down. A few northern lords followed behind them, all of them wearing great fur cloaks. The Queen was easily one of the most beautiful people in the room, with her hair now tumbling down her shoulders instead of in the firm braid it was before, yet her gown was still the same. Lady Catelyn had not changed at all however, yet despite the hard lines of grief on her face Avariella could easily see her beauty, despite how hard and stern it seemed to be. Edmure Tully was determined not to look in their direction, it seemed, as he stared determinedly at her lord father and spared no glance at them. King Robb did not share the same sentiment however, his eyes lingering on the left side of the room. She watched as his gaze danced around all of them, and the warm feeling in her stomach uncoiled quickly, spreading within her like wildfire. His eyes stopped moving however, when he landed on her. Their eyes met across the room, and Avariella's insides clenched at the contact, and the mere thought of her having to apologise to him.
She glanced away from him, breaking their eye contact to stare at her Lord father, who was watching the King closely, his typical expression of boredom and rudeness planted on his face. Yet Avariella knew her father well, and could see how the the line in his neck had just started to fade, and how his hand clutched at the arm of his chair tightly. She did not know whether or not his anger was directed at her, or the King, yet she assumed the former and knew that he had not forgotten her words.
"Your grace," her father called out once they had reached the high table, "Let this night be the beginning of the newfound peace between our houses," he coughed loudly but managed to continue, "With your permission—" cough, "Shall the feast commence?"
King Robb withdrew his hand from the Queen's and took a step closer to the high table, and his voice sounded near-joyful as he spoke, "Let the feast commence, Lord Walder. We thank you for your hospitality."
Her father grunted loudly in return, and with a wave of his hand, the musicians began to play and the wine began to pour. The room almost immediately went alive with laughter and talk, but Avariella kept her eyes trained on them. They sat down down in the front row and Avariella dragged her eyes away from them, frowning all the while.
"Father said that we each have to dance with Lord Edmure," Roslin told her quietly, taking a sip of wine from her cup. Avariella glanced at her, her features darkening, "Did he now?"
Roslin frowned at her, worry etched onto her face, "Avariella you have already done enough, father will hurt you if you do anything else."
"I merely told them what they really are," she said softly, gazing down at her empty plate.
"Well one of us will be marrying Lord Edmure," Roslin sighed softly, and Avariella did not miss the wistfulness in her tone. Anger pierced her heart as well as understanding as she looked at her elder sister, and the sudden fierceness and determination that took over her, surprised her. Roslin you will get out of here if it is the last thing I do, she thought, she is one of the few Frey's who doesn't deserve this life.
She glanced across the room to where the group sat, and though her heart hated the very thought of it, she knew she had to apologise. With a sudden burst of bravery she didn't know she had, she gulped down her wine in one, long gulp and slammed it back down onto the table, starling Roslin. She leaped up from her chair, the wine making her more bold and grabbed onto Roslin's hand, pulling her up.
"Avariella what—"
"We are going to go talk to the King," she interrupted, walking towards the group, her strides quick and swift even though she was dragging Roslin behind her.
"No—" Roslin barely managed to get the word out of her mouth before Avariella had stopped in front of the group, planting a wide smile on her face. She let go of Roslin's hand, and curtsied, her eyes focused on the ground.
"Your grace," Avariella announced loudly, grabbing their attention. She did not miss the look of surprise that appeared in the King's eyes, or the lingering anger in his mothers. The Queen simply looked regal and elegant but her eyes were slightly dazed, as though she was looking right through her instead of at her. Lord Edmure eyed them and looked pleased, a smile of welcome forming on his face.
"My lady," the King returned, his deep voice calm and even.
Avariella forced the smile on her face to become more softer, and transformed her features into one of regret and grief.
"Your grace I owe both you and the Queen an apology," she said tenderly, her eyes gently meeting his blue ones, "My actions and words earlier today were done out of grief and mourning for my brother. I needed someone to blame for his death," her voice caught at that, and she fiddled with her hands. She could see Roslin look at her suspiciously, her eyes wide and doe like with a flush appearing on her cheeks. Roslin, she cursed inwardly, I'm trying to help you.
She gestured towards Roslin and continued, "My sweet elder sister has helped me see the light your grace. Her kindness and wisdom is truly an inspiration to us all here at the Frey's," the words were sickly sweet in her mouth, and Avariella resisted the urge too laugh. The King's lips curled up at that, and even the seriousness in his mother's eyes faded just a touch. Roslin's face turned as red as Lady Catelyn's hair but Avariella made sure to keep her eyes on the King. The humour disappeared from his face, however, and she saw his eyes darken as his gaze flickered to her bruised cheek.
"May I ask what happened to you, my lady, to cause you such injury?" Lady Catelyn asked from beside her son, her eyes growing dark and solemn once more.
"My lady I must say I fell—"on my brother's fist "I was not paying attention to where I was going and I slipped and fell," she lied smoothly, being sure to keep the smile planted on her face.
"My lady," Lord Edmure called out, his voice slightly muffled and dragged, and Avariella wondered momentarily if he was already drunk on wine. "How many children has your father's current wife, Lady Joyuese born him? His youngest daughter was twelve I believe?"
Bloody fool, she thought and it took everything in her to hide her scowl. I was a good little girl once she thought, I remember the lessons my Septa taught me. Smile and hid your anger, child, she had said, for your emotions will be the death of you.
"Well considering Lady Joyuese is only three or four years older than my father's youngest true born daughter it would be impossible for her to be Shirei's mother," she replied instantly, and she saw Roslin's eyes widen at her. The Blackfish barked out a laugh at her words, and Lord Edmure's face flushed, and he shrunk back into his chair, nearly pouting like a child. The tune playing changed, and a lively river song began to play. People had already begun to dance near the centre of the room, where the width in the aisle was the longest.
"Such a pleasant tune," she commented brightly, and glanced at Roslin before focusing her gaze on Lord Edmure, "My lord do you like to dance?" They all eyed her cautiously and Lord Edmure nearly spluttered at her before replying uneasily, "Somewhat, my lady—"
"Splendid," she cried, smiling widely, "Roslin enjoy's dancing as well my lord, she is easily the best dancer out of all the women in the Frey's, especially at this dance, my lord."
Lord Edmure cast Roslin a glance and asked, "My lady would you wish to dance?"
Roslin blushed furiously and looked at her, her brown eyes wide and they whispered at her what are you doing? She smiled softly at her, and for the first time since she had strung up the conversation it was almost genuine.
"Ah—Yes, my lord, I would be very honoured," Roslin replied. Avariella nodded at her and watched as Edmure rose from his chair and walked round the table to take her sister's hand and escort her to the growing crowd. A deep sense of satisfaction unfolded warmed her insides pleasantly, unlike how her hatred had burned throughout her, and her anger. It was then that she became aware of all the eyes still on her and with a false smile she curtsied and muttered, "Forgive me your grace, my queen, my lady and my lord, I must return to my supper before it gets to cold for it to be edible. Please excuse me." She waited until the King had nodded his consent before she turned on her heel because she was a Lady and a Lady always remembered her curtsies, even if she was Frey.
The air around her grew dour and bitter due to her half-sisters and nieces. The reason for this being the sight of a giggling Roslin Frey and a smiling Edmure. Avariella had twisted in her chair so that she could gaze at them, and was pleased to find that they had not left each other's arms for close to an hour. Father will not be pleased she mused, and glanced up at where her father was sitting and currently drinking from his cup of wine. Probably near his twentieth cup or more, she contemplated, before glancing back at the happy couple once more. Avos should be here.
The thought was a dagger in her heart. She turned so suddenly on her chair that she nearly fell over. Avos should have seen this, she kept on thinking, Avos should be here next too me and Olyvar and Roslin and Shirei and we should all be laughing at one of his jokes. Her thoughts made the dagger in her heart twist deeper. All notion of satisfaction or peace that she felt mere moments before had vanished, and the wave of grief that overcame her was overwhelming. She lifted her hand to her throat and began to rub at it, trying to make it easier for her to breathe. The room had suddenly become unbearably warm and suffocating and it was all she could not to fall over and faint. Do not break in front of them she hissed at herself.
Avariella had begun clutching the edge of the table, and her fingers had started to turn red due to the sheer strength she was using. It was then that she became aware of someone sliding into Roslin's chair beside her, and it was only until he spoke that she realised who it was.
"You've managed to anger not only our father but our sister's as well in one evening," Olyvar commented, his voice light yet his words were dark, "I don't know how you managed to do it, but you did."
Avariella snorted uncaringly, and glanced at her brother, her grip on the table weakening and she placed her hands in her lap. "Is that so?" she drawled out, arching a thin eyebrow at him, "As if whether or not I had done what I did would have made a difference. When he looked at her earlier it was as if someone offered him all the gold in the world."
Olyvar chuckled softly at that, but his eyes were piercing as he looked at her, and Avariella did not miss how grave they looked. "I trust you singing her praises also had something to do with it," he told her, his voice amused, "I never thought that would be something you would do—"
"I would sing Roslin's praises until my last breath if it meant him marrying her," she snapped, and the tension between them was unstable and unsettling.
"Yes but why?" he asked, "You haven't exactly been the dutiful or welcoming sister for a year, Avariella. And even then you would not cheat—"
"How is it cheating if we all know who he was going to chose?" she cried out loudly, grabbing some of her siblings attention and so she quickly lowered her voice as she hissed, "I do not understand—"
"He could have chosen you," Olyvar pointed out bluntly.
Avariella scoffed at that and replied darkly, her voice a mere whisper as she leaned closer to her half brother so that he could hear her, "If Edmure Tully had chosen me as his bride,I would fling myself into the river without a second thought. So then his next option would be Roslin. So, regardless of whether or not he did choose me— which he won't— the end result would always be Roslin."
Olyvar's face had grown deathly pale at her words, and it infuriated Avariella that his eyes were filled with pity and sorrow. He had just opened his mouth to speak before she quickly leapt up from her chair, and grabbed the front of her skirts, "If you will excuse me my dear brother, I will take my leave now."
She left hurriedly and stormed down the hall, brushing past servants and people without a care. When she reached the dancing area she nearly blanched at the sight of the people whirling around but quickly managed to sidestep through it, her heart pounding in her chest. Roslin and Edmure were still dancing it would seem, and took no notice of her. Good she thought. When she reached the door she only turned back once, to look at her father. To her surprise his eyes were trained on her, and the darkness within them scared her. He is a vengeful person, my dear father, she thought, He will not forget this. She exited the room in a rush, her insides squirming uncontrollably. Her heart felt as though it were about to rip out of her chest, and her head had begun to pound. When she had turned down one hall—that was empty, thankfully- she stopped her strides and placed a hand on her chest, and she was practically heaving. Dear gods, she thought to herself, what—
"My lady?" The Blackfish asked, his old voice haggard, "Are you alright?"
Avariella whirled around and planted the same false smile she had before on her face, "I am perfectly fine, my lord. Thank-you but I fear I must retire for I am tired."
He nodded at her, but Avariella did not miss how his eyes had narrowed at her. Avariella turned on her heel and practically ran to the stairs that led to her chambers, desperately needing her chamber's privacy.
When she woke the next morning, it was to the sun's rays entering her room through the blinds on her windows. She woke up groggily, a small sound exiting her throat from where she had buried herself under the furs. She had barely managed to dress herself into her night shift before collapsing onto the bed and crawling underneath the furs. It had been a deep and truly welcome sleep, without any night terror's. Just a dark, deep sleep that she had not gotten in many, many months. It nearly struck her as strange, that the first good and proper sleep she had in almost a year was when the people she had hated the most were in her home. She sat up from the bed and rubbed at her eyes, letting out a small groan. The sun had just risen, it would seem and with a flash of relief Avariella realised she had not missed the opportunity to break her fast.
She slowly managed to get out of bed, her bare feet cold upon landing on the stone floor. The hearth that died out overnight, leaving the room with a slight chill before she slipped on a cloak. She walked barefooted to her wardrobe and hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not she should be dressed to go to the lake. She decided against it, reminding herself that she could go later when the sun was higher in the sky. So she picked out a dress to wear and placed it on the unmade bed. There was a knock on the door then, and so she called out, "You may enter."
Arra came into view then, her small frame barely managing to hold onto the laundry. "You can leave it on the bed, Arra, " she called out. She watched as Arra stumbled over to the bed and placed the stack of clothing on the made side, near to her clothes.
"Should I make the bed, my lady?" she asked quietly, as though she were afraid she would snap. Avariella may not have called upon Arra for dressing purposes anymore she knew that she had still continued on taking care of her room. "If you please," she responded and then added, "If you may bring me some water to bathe I would also be grateful." Arra nodded submissively and walked to the other side of the bed, and began to make it. The air was uncomfortably and awkward as Avariella stood there, watching her work. When Arra had finished she curtsied and said, "I shall be back with the water milady." Avariella nodded at her, silent and watched as she left. It nearly scared her how much she had grown used to her life being like this.
"He is so handsome," Waldra crowned, a flush appearing on her face as she batted her eyes eagerly. Avariella watched her out of the corner of her eye blankly, and ate another spoon of food.
"He danced with me twice!" she continued on. Roslin had not made her way down to the great hall yet. The other Waldra looked jealous as she said that and she murmured, "He didn't even dance with me at all." The first Waldra looked sympathetic— thought triumph and superiority flashed in her eyes— "Do not worry Waldra I have heard that Lady Catelyn will be speaking with all of us today—"
What? Avariella thought in horror, and her spoon landed on the table with a loud thud as she dropped it. That grabbed their attention, and they looked down the table to where she was sitting alone and away from them. The great hall was empty for the most part, with only a few other Frey's littering the hall. The servants were on the floor, scrubbing at it furiously and Avariella briefly wondered whether or not she had missed anything before realising she didn't care.
"Something a bother sister?" Waldra asked innocently. Avariella nearly scowled at her, though he was careful to keep her shock and irritation masked. Waldra— the first one— was a bitter girl with a superiority issue, as she grew closer and closer to her upcoming twenty seventh name day. The innocent expression on her face was a farce— Waldra was innocent as Avariella was blonde-haired. Waldra was a girl who had inherited all of her fathers looks— and his personality as well, time had taught her.
"No," Avariella replied blankly and rose from her chair to leave.
"Did Lord Edmure dance with you, dear sister?" Waldra asked nicely, though Avariella knew that Waldra knew she hadn't. She stopped in her tracks and turned to face her elder half—sister and she amused herself with the knowledge that Waldra thought she cared as to whether or not Edmure Tully danced with her.
"No."
She walked away before Waldra could come with what she thought was a smart response, and she heard them both erupt into whispers the moment she left the room.
She returned to her chambers after visiting the library to grab a book, careful not to stumble onto any Stark soldiers or one of her brothers. She had not forgotten that Black Walder would no doubt wish to seek revenge for her actions, but knew that he would wait until the King had left until she did so. Wouldn't want to risk father's wrath.
She sat herself by the chair near the hearth and began to read. It was a novel she had read before, but she still enjoyed it. Before she had never enjoyed reading, preferring to help run the keep and go on adventures with her brother or spend time with Shirei and Roslin. Avariella used to bring roses into the castle when she was younger, in failed attempts to get rid of the odour of sex and mead. She had planted rose bushes wherever she could, Avos had helped her as well. Her father had been amused then and said some jape that she did not remember, but Avariella could still smell the sweet scent of the roses under her nose, though they had now withered and died due to lack of care.
Avariella shook her head, and rid herself of her thoughts, flipping a page of the book. She immersed herself in the story, and the hours trickled by until she finally reached the end of it and placed it on her nearby nightstand. She glanced at the window, to where the sun was now shining high and bright in the sky, no cloud in sight and decided to go for her daily swim. She changed quickly into the thin white dress she usually wore to swim, and slipped her long cloak back on. It was floor length and covered all of her arms, and a small clasp shaped as the twins was in the middle. She clasped it together to hide the thin gown and just as she was about to leave there was a knock.
She opened it, and Olyvar was revealed to be standing behind it, his face blank but his eyes apologetic.
"Lady Catelyn sent for me to bring you to her, in order for her to get to know you better," he said uncomfortably.
Avariella froze, her grip on the door handle tightening as her heart began to speed faster.
"No," she told him, her voice pleading, "I will not."
"Avariella it is just a talk not a decision—"
"Yes and if I am not here I will not have to go through it!" she hissed at him, before her features softened and her voice grew into a plead, "Please, Olyvar. I can't be alone with one of them all I'll be able to see is his face and—"
She stopped shortly, and gazed into his brown eyes, "Please Olyvar, tell her you came too late and that I went for my daily swim."
There was a beat before her half-brother responded, "I'll wait for a few minutes so you can go and get Max—"
"Thank you," she breathed and hurried out of the room, the door slamming behind her.
Once Max had been brought to her by one of the guards to where she waited by the East castle gate, she immediately hurried out of it, eager to get away from the castle and Lady Catelyn. The walk to the small lake was not a very long one, though the spot was past the apple orchard. Max walked dutifully beside her, his tail wagging quickly. The grass was soft beneath her feet, though the soil was still slightly damp from the rain the previous morning, despite the sun being out and shining. It was a warm day, and Avariella could feel her cheeks begin to redden slightly. In part it was due to the pace she was walking at and also because of the sun beating down on her unapologetically. When the small patch of tree's came into sight Max let out a loud bark and bounded forward, though he was careful not to run too far in front of her.
Avariella found she was incredibly relived too see it as well, and her shoulder's nearly sagged under the weight of it. There was a small path that led to the lake and Avariella knew it like she knew the back of her palm and then finally, the small lake came into sight. It should have actually been called a pond due to its small size, but it was surprisingly deep from where she jumped in usually. It grew quite shallow at the opposite end from where she jumped but she typically never went to that end. Today she was in a rush to be in the water, and so she hastily unclasped her cloak and dropped it onto a small patch of grass before removing her boots as well. She removed the two pins she had put in her hair and was thankful that the bruise had faded so considerably overnight there was only a small, blue mark left.
Avariella marched over to the edge but halted suddenly, a breeze sweeping over the area, causing the then-still water to blur. She could hear the chirping of the birds in the tree's and the peaceful sound made the panic within her fade. It was only here that Avariella could truly find peace and solace. Where the memory of her brother did not haunt her but was cherished instead. Even the apple orchard was painful to visit but here; Here she could remember her brother in peace and sadness, with nothing but the tree's to look upon her in her grief. She counted to three in her head and jumped.
The water was cold but refreshing as she sunk deeper and deeper into it, so far that her feet touched the ground. She stared up at the surface, to where the sun had begun to shine on it and when it hit her hair it looked as though they had become flames. She surged up to catch a breath of air, and flipped onto her back. She saw Max curled up next to her pile of discarded clothing and nearly smiled at how peaceful he looked. She then floated on her back in the water, so that the only thing she could see was the light blue canvas that was the sky. The only thing Avariella could hear was her heart beating, and strangely enough the sound comforted her. Thud thud thud it went. It felt as though she were floating up to the sky with no feeling of her limbs.
Is this how it felt, Avos? she thought sadly, dying? Did you only hear the sound of your heart fading on that battlefield? Did you feel as though you were floating towards the sky by an unseen force? She had all of these questions, but none of them would ever be answered. Her heart beat was still a steady force, still going thud thud thud in her ears. She pictured Avos in her head, his red curls a large contrast with the ground beneath him. She pictured him with a sword in his gut, or an arrow in his heart and she thought of how his blue eyes must have stared up at the sky like she was now. She thought of how his heart beat would have first been loud in his ears before quickly slowing down, until it eventually came to a stop. Avariella thought how her brother's eyes— usually a light, playful blue, always filled with mirth must have glazed over, lifeless.
Avariella's thoughts were disrupted by her gently bumping her head into something, and found it was the edge she had jumped off of. The magic was gone— the moment was gone and so she gently propped her elbows onto the ledge and managed to push herself out of the water. She lay there with her back on the grass, the sun warming her wet skin. She felt so tired and her chest felt as though a large boulder had just been tossed onto it and yet, she forced herself to turn onto her stomach, and force herself onto her feet. The grass was soft beneath her bare toes, and it tickled her slightly as she picked up her cloak and slipped it on. It instantly stuck tightly onto her skin, as though it were a second layer and Max jumped suddenly and began to growl. Avariella froze from where she stood next to him, and took a wary step forward, as quiet as a mouse.
She heard it then; the sound of dead leaves crushing against someones boots. Max began to growl louder and louder, and his body began to stiffen like it did whenever he was about to attack. Avariella kept her eyes intently focused on the path, waiting for the person to show their face. A stumbling drunk, maybe, she thought, or one of the soldiers. The sound grew louder and louder, and it was then that Avariella knew they would appear and then—
A tall, towering woman dressed from neck to toe in silver armour appeared. Her hair was short, and cropped close to her shin and was the colour of straw, though more stringy and washed out. Her shoulders were wide and Avariella could tell she was a burly woman. Max had stopped growling at the sight of her, though he had not relaxed his body just yet. The woman's eyes widened at the sight of her and Avariella noticed that they were a bright blue— a pretty blue admittedly, though Avariella knew that was the only thing she could honestly call pretty. The woman's features were both boyish and brutish, but she held herself upright and proudly in her armour.
"I mean you no harm, my lady," The woman said, "I am Lady Catelyn's personal guard."
Avariella nodded at her, though her insides had clenched tightly. She whistled softly at Max and gently murmured, "It's alright boy." Max relaxed next to her and sat down once more, curling into himself. Avariella drew her attention back to the woman and asked, 'My lady, who are you?"
"Brienne of Tarth, my lady," she replied, taking a step forward. Tarth Avariella contemplated, the island of sapphire's I think. Brienne stepped to the side to reveal Lady Catelyn behind her, her long auburn hair pulled back into a simple braid. Avariella stiffened at the sight of her, but curtsied accordingly, "My lady," she said, "I was not expecting you."
Her bare feet became glaringly more apparent to her, as did her soaked appearance. Lady Catelyn did not seem to mind however, though her eyes did linger on her bare feet for a moment. She walked forward to Avariella, her blue eyes revealing none of her thoughts.
"I heard from your brother that you went for a swim, my lady," She commented, pausing a few steps in front of her, "I figured I may come and seek you out. I fear I have not seen much of the Twins and wished to explore the grounds outside the crossing a little bit more."
Avariella forced her anger down her throat and nodded at her before replying, "Allow me to put on my boots, my lady." Without waiting for her to reply, she began to put her boots back on and when she was fully dressed, she turned to see Lady Catelyn staring at her intently, her blue eyes unreadable as she studied her. Avariella swallowed her unease and wariness and asked her politely, "My lady, may I ask as to why, you sought me out?"
Lady Catelyn regarded her closely before answering, "As you know my lady," they had both begun to walk then, along the path to return to the Twins, "My brother Edmure is to pick a bride very soon. He has asked me for my help in doing so, as he trusts my judgement." To not pick someone stupid and frail. The words were not said, but Avariella thought them. She forced a nod of understanding and listened to her continue.
"I have been talked to six of Walder Frey's true born daughters, all except you, my lady."
"If I had known you were searching for me, my lady, I would not have left," Avariella lied smoothly. Max had bounded off in front of them, and they were now out of the patch of tree's and on the path that led back to the Twins.
Lady Catelyn paused at that, and the look she sent her was scrutinising, and Avariella forced herself to keep her face blank and not reveal her true turmoil. "No matter," Lady Catelyn said, "I needed a walk, anyway my lady."
They walked in silence for a few moments, the only sound being their feet on the ground and Lady Brienne following them, closely behind.
"You're siblings have all had interesting things to say about you, Lady Avariella," she told Avariella. Avariella resisted the urge to stiffen, though her heart had begun to beat faster in her chest.
"Oh?" she asked lightly, "If you wanted to ask me something, my lady, you are free to do so."
"I know," Lady Catelyn said, her voice stern, "But I wished to know more about the girl who insulted my son and his wife to his face."
"I did that out of grief, my lady," Avariella said, attempting to keep her voice even, "I pleaded for his grace's forgiveness—"
"Yes," Catelyn interrupted smoothly, "I understand that, my lady. I was simply curious." Avariella felt slightly ashamed now, and forced the flush rising to her cheeks to stop. "Lady Roslin spoke very kindly of you, my lady." Avariella froze before quickly saying, "Roslin speaks kindly of everyone my lady, it is one of her greatest attributes along with her maternal instincts."
Lady Catelyn's eyes looked slightly amused as she looked at her, "You speak very highly of her, Lady Avariella and very often." Avariella flushed accordingly and said, "I simply wish for you too know how good of a person she is, my lady. My sister is very humble and that can sometimes be interpreted as weakness."
"Is that why you brought my brother and your sister together, my lady? Because she is very humble and shy or because you did not want my brother to chose you?" The words were bold and said bluntly, and any amusement Lady Catelyn may have been feeling vanished within a blink of an eye. Avariella looked at her blankly, though her insides had begun to squirm. "Forgive me for saying so, Lady Catelyn, but your brother seems like a man who. . . who would want a wife who is both pleasant and nature and. . . to look at. My sister Roslin happens to be both and I know that she would make your brother a good wife and be a good lady." The Twins had come into view now and Avariella was eager to walk faster.
"And you won't make my brother a good wife?"
"No," she replied instantly, and her eyes were fierce as she met Lady Catelyn's, "I will not make your brother a good wife because—with no offence my lady,— I have no desire to be your brother's bride. Roslin does. She wants it very much, she may be shy in the Twins but that is merely for now. She will grow into a strong woman and be a better wife and mother and Lady Rivverun than I could ever be, my lady. That is the truth."
"Your sister said that you were once in charge of the Keep," Lady Catelyn said. Avariella paused in her steps for a moment and told her, "I helped try to run the keep my lady, with the help of the Maester and—and my brother. Roslin helped as well, as did Shirei."
"Lady Roslin said that you were like a mother to Shirei," Lady Catelyn countered.
"I was," Avariella admitted honestly, though her eyes were dark, "And then my brother died and I simply did not care anymore my lady. I mean no offence when I speak to you, but this is the truth. A harsh one, but the truth nonetheless. Lord Edmure seem's quite taken with Roslin and I assure you that she feels the same. She deserves to be the Lady of Riverrun."
Lady Catelyn regarded her closely, and Avariella was thankful to realise that they had reached the East castle. "I will take your council into very careful consideration, my lady." Avariella's heart sunk at that before she nodded her thanks and muttered, "If you will please excuse me, my lady, for I must redress."
Lady Catelyn nodded at her and Avariella took the moment to leave.
"Your brother Olyvar also spoke of you," Lady Catelyn called out to her. Avariella froze in her footsteps to indicate that she had heard, yet she did not turn around. "He said that you were like fire, that you could warm a room and light it up but that you would burn those who came to close."
"I am afraid to disappoint you my lady," Avariella said, turning around to face the older woman, "I am much more like a flickering candle than fire. Good day too you."
It was near evening when Avariella made her way onto the bridge. The sky had begun to turn orange as the sun started to set, and the winds had grown stronger since her walk with Lady Catelyn. The bridge was near scarce as she walked down it, and all she saw was a distant figure standing near the edge of the bridge, looking down at the river below. She could only see the figure's long, dark billowing hair and could not recognise her in her mind. Catelyn's words had ingrained themselves into her brain, and it made her sick with anger.
She walked closer to the figure, and it was then that she realised that it was the Queen. She had not seemed to notice her, and was staring at the scenery, and her eyes looked strangely sad. Her blew wildly behind her, and the sun's rays made it look lighter but no less beautiful.
"Your grace," Avariella said, surprised and slightly disturbed to see her out here. Queen Talisa turned to look at her, and the sorrow in her eyes surprised Avariella. Her hand was placed on her stomach as she said to her sadly, "You have a very beautiful bridge." She then left quickly, leaving Avariella alone to her own thoughts.
A/N HELLO GUYS! This is the longest chapter I have ever written. I have quickly learnt that having, long detailed chapters is very important. First off, thank you all for your support and your comments, it means a lot to me that you guys are enjoying this story. Secondly, I am pleasantly surprised that fans of Blood Must have blood have followed me to this story. I am very grateful for that and I hope you guys like this story as much that one. Thirdly, did anyone see that finale? OMG wasn't it so good? Anyway, tell me your thoughts !
Until next time,
Fionakevin073
P.S. Did anyone pick up on those references to moments in the show and in the books? Pieces of dialogue? Lol thanks guys