Here's chapter 2!
Warnings: Smut, though I wouldn't exactly called it that.
Narcissa had overslept, way past noon. She had spent most of her night packing her belongings and indulging in wine. Most of all though, she had spent hours imagining all the ways she could kill Walder Frey. She had been sure she would toss and turn, and spend a sleepless worrying about her wedding, but in the end, it seemed, she had had one drink too many.
Before that, she had taken the time to hide most of the gold as well as the map and writings beneath the mattress. Walder Frey had promised he would set Gloria and Piero free the moment she had was wed and she would hold him to his word. She had promised Gloria and Piero she'd get them back to Essos safely, and that's exactly what she intended to do.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and a couple of handmaidens came rushing in with Lady Stark following close behind. Silently, they took off her nightgown so she could bathe before putting on the wedding dress. She wondered how they had managed to find one on such a short notice, but with so many daughters around, Walder Frey most likely wanted to be ready to marry them off at any time.
"Are you nervous, Lady Narcissa?" Catelyn Stark asked, sitting by the window, her hair the color of fire though not much light shone through.
"I find nervousness to be a pointless emotion, my lady," Narcissa replied as one of the handmaidens brushed her dark hair. Anger, however, was a very useful emotion in her books. Lady Stark shooed the maid off, deciding to brush the bride's hair herself and Narcissa had to admit that her hands were much more gentle.
"Please call me Catelyn," she chuckled. "We'll soon enough be kin after all." As if Narcissa needed to be reminded of that. "I know you didn't want this, and most certainly didn't expect it but there is no need to be afraid of my son, Narcissa. He is a good man."
"I'm sure any boy raised by you would grow into a good man, Catelyn," Narcissa replied with poise and no confidence in her words.
Catelyn then proceeded to tell the young woman what to expect on her wedding night as if she hadn't had the talk with her own mother when she first flowered years ago. She also shared her own story with Narcissa, how her and Lord Stark's marriage had been an arranged one and despite all that, they had still managed to build love, stone by stone.
Narcissa listened with a quiet smile but didn't feel all too concerned by the words. She intended to sail off to Essos as soon as Robb Stark arrived in King's Landing and be long gone before he could even start to get used to her company.
As soon as Lady Catelyn Stark and the handmaidens left her alone, she rushed to her trunk and frantically started looking for the wooden box where she kept most of the medicine. Inside, the brunette found a few pouches of herbs and decided to brew moon tea straight away, before Walder Frey could arrive to bring her to the Godswood and sell her off. The taste was bitter and sour but she drank the entire cup anyway, eyes shut tight.
-/-/-/-
"It's actually a great honor to marry Lord Stark, you know," Walder Frey screeched as he tried to fasten a worn out blue coat around his granddaughter's neck. The feel of his bony fingers on her skin sent painful shivers through her spine, making her feel terribly sorry for his current and past wives.
"I'm aware of that. That's why you should have given it to one of your daughters," Narcissa seethed before grabbing the lacy ties from his hands and fastening the bloody coat herself.
"Aye, I tried," old Walder cackled before leading her out of the room. "But he and his mother only had eyes for you. I wonder why." Narcissa was certain that had been meant as an insult, but truly, his bitterness did nothing more than amuse her at this point. It would simply give her so much more pleasure when she'd have her revenge.
"Maybe because I don't remind them of you, grandfather."
They made their way out of the keep and through the path into the Godswood. She wished she'd be able to say that she saw many familiar face looking kindly at her on her wedding day, but most of these were strangers and the remaining ones looked like they wanted her head on a spike.
Gradually, as they left the castle walls, the sky seemed to darken as if night had fallen early or a storm was coming. Narcissa wondered almost hopefully if the wedding would be called off if it suddenly started raining and thundering, but she supposed the only thing that would achieve was dirtying her long ivory dress. Walder Frey seemed eager to sell her off and Robb Stark was equally eager to cross the bridge.
At last, they approached the heart tree and it took her all of her strength not to laugh when she saw how ugly that thing really was. Surely, an Almighty God would have picked out a more beautiful tree?
"Who comes before the Old Gods this day?" Lady Catelyn Stark spoke solemnly once Walder Frey and his granddaughter reached the heart tree. However all Narcissa could notice was how this part of the woods was so much darker than rest. Even now during daylight, torches had to be lit and held by the guests.
"Narcissa, of the House Frey, come here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?" Walder Frey replied and she was surprised the old man's voice hadn't cracked mid-sentence. Most of all, however, she was horrified by the archaic nature of these words. 'Claiming' someone as if they were at Slaver's Bay and purchasing a person.
"Robb, of House Stark, heir to Winterfell. Who gives her?" It was only then that she lifted her gaze to take a proper at Robb Stark on their wedding day. He was a complete and yet within minutes he'd be her husband. His eyes were just as blue as she remembered, though he seemed to have cut his beard and his hair shorter. For a quick second, she wondered if he had done it to please her.
"Walder, of the House Frey, her grandfather."
"Lady Narcissa, do you take this man?" Lady Catelyn asked then, her voice crystal clear in the artificial night and Narcissa realized with a sudden fright she wasn't entirely sure what the proper answer was.
She looked at Robb Stark for what she thought was the longest time, silently asking him what to say. She tried to see if he wanted to flee as much as she did or if for some incomprehensible reason, he believed she'd make a good wife for him. Then she considered fleeing alone, and all although she might have been able to outrun the wedding party, she'd never be capable setting Piero and Gloria free, and that was something she couldn't allow.
"I take this man," she finally agreed and caught Robb Stark slowly exhaling in front of her, as if he'd been holding his breath the whole time.
Then, Robb stretched out his hand for her to take. She wondered what would happen if she refused but she figured she had just said her vows and Robb now held the power to force her. Narcissa stretched out her hand and placed in his. Immediately, he laced his fingers with hers, delicately, before turning around and kneeing in front the heart tree. The bride followed suit, rather confused by the whole ordeal until she understood it was supposed to be a moment of silent prayer.
Dear Old Gods, whoever you are, please let my mother live long enough for me to see her at least one more time. Please let Gloria and Piero return safely to Florence. Please let me do the same in due time.
And then, she opened her eyes just a little and dared a quickly glance sideways at her new husband. He was still praying, eyes closed and mouthing something she couldn't quite understand though she believed having heard her name, and she finally came to cognize that she didn't hate him, she didn't love him either but there was no hate. Certainly, he'd also much rather be marrying another girl and having fun in Winterfell instead of heading to King's Landing to free his father.
Dear Old Gods, please do not make me a widow.
As if on cue, Robb Stark rose and she mirrored his movement. Almost solemnly, he slid his hand away from hers and brought it to her neck. She didn't quite know what was going on until she felt him untie the dark blue cloak from around her shoulders and hand it to Walder Frey who was standing just a few feet away.
She didn't have the time to judge whether the air was cold as Robb Stark quickly fastened a thicker black coat around her shoulders, his fingers warmer than her grandfather's. The coat was heavy and the broad fur trim around her neck made her feel nauseous but she supposed now wasn't the time to offend her newlywed husband.
Still with his hands on her shoulders, Robb Stark leaned forward and kissed her for all to see.
-/-/-/-
The walk back to the castle was a true mess. It had started raining after all and everyone was hurrying to the feast. Robb, however, didn't let go of his Narcissa and let her choose the pace, effectively putting them among the last ones to arrive at the feast.
"I hope this is not the worst day of your life, Lady Stark," Robb Stark commented with amusement, watching her try to avoid the puddles. For two quick seconds, she looked around them to find his mother but Catelyn was nowhere to be seen. Only then did she realize he was addressing her and but not entirely unpleasant. Better be a Stark than a Frey, she mused.
"I suppose it will all depend on what's for dinner, Lord Stark," Narcissa replied in the same tone and was glad to see that her words had not offended him. If anything, she supposed he enjoyed her repartee.
The feast was horrible, truly, but Narcissa wasn't surprised. There was nothing Walder Frey could do to disappoint her anymore. Robb and his men didn't seem displeased by the assortment of foods, however. She guessed war numbed your taste buds.
Robb asked her to dance with him just like the previous night, only this time she knew she couldn't refuse. Gracefully, she accepted his hand and he led her to the ballroom area where many couples were already dancing.
Narcissa soon realized her upbringing was much different than most noble girls' in Westeros. All of them knew how to dance and how to sew. She knew how to calculate the rate of interest on a loan and how to broker a favorable deal, but that didn't help her then. The sheer size of Robb's hand on her waist intimidated her enough to forget the little she knew about dancing. Luckily, Robb Stark wasn't a particularly confident dancer either, or maybe he just didn't know this type of dance, but she was left to wonder which one of them looked most like a fool.
After a couple of inelegant dances, Robb Stark went to twirl with his mother and Narcissa spotted Piero among the eating men. It appeared Walder Frey had kept his promise. It took her a lot of awkward waves to get his attention, but as soon as he noticed she was beckoning him to her, he came running.
"Listen carefully, Piero," she whispered as they danced together, a little too slow for the music. "In my chambers, beneath the mattress, there's gold and a map. I traced the path you and Gloria should follow to reach the Narrow Sea." People were staring at them curiously, but at this point, Narcissa had bigger worries.
"I cannot leave you here. I promised your father I'd look out for you," Piero protested before stepping on her foot and immediately apologizing.
"I know. But I promised Gloria I'd get her to Essos safely and you will travel with her," the lady insisted, staring straight into his brown eyes until he gave in and nodded. "Once in Florence, you'll tell my father exactly what is going on and he'll find a way to bring me back." If I don't do it myself before, she almost added.
The dance ended just then but she made sure he promised to do as she said before letting him out of her sight.
"Lady Stark," Theon Greyjoy chanted nasally, appearing in front of her out of thin air. "I believe it's time for the bedding ceremony." The man in his early twenties said, eyeing her very inappropriately. Narcissa merely furrowed her eyebrows, rather confused. Weren't all the bloody ceremonies over?
Arrogantly, as if acting within his right, Theon's hands reached for the front buttons of her ivory dress before undoing the first one. "My lord, you do that again, and I'll take a finger for each button that you touch," she hissed, swatting his hand away. Men from Westeros truly were a disgusting breed.
Suddenly, Robb Stark was next to Theon, shoving him off. "I told you before, Theon, there will be no bedding ceremony," Robb told his friend menacingly, through clenched teeth before turning back to the bride.
"I think it's time for us to retire, Lady Stark," he said, the blue in his eyes washed out with the wine and his hair a little wilder.
-/-/-/-
Robb Stark held the door open for her and she unceremoniously stepped inside the chambers that had been assigned to them. They looked much like the ones she had previously occupied and she supposed they all looked the same at the Twins. It's not like Lord Walder Frey would care much for appearances when he allowed himself to walk around with his face uncovered.
Robb locked the door behind themselves and immediately rushed to the fireplace to add more wood since the flames had been burning low. Narcissa didn't mind a cold room, but once again, it didn't feel quite right to argue about a bedroom's perfect temperature with her new husband on their wedding night. It's not like they would spend many nights together, Narcissa expected.
"Thank you for calling off the bedding ceremony. It was very thoughtful of you, my lord," she said softly, staring at his back as he kneed in front of the fire. To be entirely honest, she wasn't quite sure what the bedding ceremony entailed but it didn't sound pleasant.
"Aye. My father did the same when he wed my mother. I find it degrading," Robb replied and Narcissa nodded at his words even though he wasn't able to see her. He wasn't that bad of a company, she thought. When he wasn't brooding at least.
Slowly, he stood up tall and turned around, facing his wife at last. For some reason, he appeared just as uncertain as she was though she was sure he had known other women. Narcissa stared at him for a long time and instinctively knew he was doing the same, gauging her in silence. She supposed that if she had to lay with a man, Robb Stark was not the worst possible option. Quite the opposite, and yet, she didn't entirely look forward to it. Not like this, with people most likely listening at the door.
"Will you undress me, or should I do it myself?" Narcissa eventually asked when the silence started feeling too heavy. But he didn't reply. Instead, his blue eyes were boring into her, and yet she didn't quite know if he was looking at her or through her. "My lord?" She added tentatively and Robb Stark shook his head, finally focusing on her words.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then cleared his voice instead. "I think I'd like to do it myself, Narcissa, if you'd allow me." He made his way over to the girl, swiftly like a predator and she was quite sure that thought would amuse her in the morning. However, in the present, her breath was caught in her throat as he undid the front buttons one by one with very little trouble and a pair of steady hands. This was definitely not his first time, Narcissa confirmed internally.
When all the buttons were undone, she removed her arms from the sleeves and let the gown slip off her now naked body. She had insisted earlier that day that she ought to at least wear a shift underneath but the older handmaiden had argued husbands didn't have patience for that kind of attire on their wedding night.
She looked up into his eyes to find that his were fixated on her breasts. It took her all the discipline she had not to start laughing at loud. Instead, her hands reached over to the cords of his doublet and started pulling them out of their holes, quickly realizing his clothes were a lot more complicated than hers were.
Suddenly, Narcissa felt his thumb beneath chin, tilting her head upwards so he could kiss her again, for the first time since the wedding ceremony. His lips tasted of wine and ale, and much to her surprise, the mixture wasn't as bad as she had expected. If anything, it was actually rather pleasant. However soft his lips were, his tongue was a lot more ferocious battling against hers with a passion she wasn't familiar with.
Nonetheless, she recognized the urgency in his movements, in the way his left hand tangled in her hair and the firm grasp of his right one on her waist, and decided to match the pace, discarding his leather doublet as quickly as possible, disliking the feel of leather against her skin.
Robb Stark broke off their kiss then, taking off his billowy shirt and undoing the laces of his breeches. She sat down on the bed, silently watching him. His body was hairier than she had expected, but then again he was a Northerner and she ought to have expected that.
Her husband joined her on the bed, kissing her again with lust before pushing her into a lying position, covering her naked body with his. He used his left arm to support himself, but his right hand was roaming all over her skin, except in one particular place. "You're allowed to touch them, my lord," Narcissa whispered huskily before grabbing his right hand and placing it on her bosom. "I'm yours now," she added, though the bitterness of her thoughts didn't show in her voice. Her words had the effect of making him more confident in his movements, as if knowing she was his enhanced the pleasure of touching her.
"Are you a maiden, Narcissa?" Robb wondered in a raspy voice, pressing his body flush against her as she felt his hardened manhood digging into my hip and nervousness finally started kicking in.
"Yes, my lord," she replied in a whisper, rather surprised by his question. Every noble girl in Westeros was expected to be a maiden on her wedding night and she was sure it was obvious she didn't know what she was doing.
"Aye, I'll be gentle then." He promised next to her ear before repositioning himself over her and prying her legs open with his knee, something she had forgotten to do.
He aligned himself with her core and she felt the tip of his manhood pressing against her folds. Narcissa lifted up her gaze to his face and noticed he was actually waiting for permission. Though unexpected it was, it was a nice gesture and she nodded accordingly, rather nervous now, not that she'd admit it.
Slowly, Robb pushed himself inside her, his moans feeling the chambers. Narcissa closed her eyes and bit her lips as not to cry. She had expected some pain, her mother had warned her of it, so had Lady Stark only a few hours ago but they had certainly failed telling her exactly how much. For a quick second she wondered if this was the moment wives started resenting their husbands.
She felt his rough thumb brush away the tears off her cheek and noticed he was trying very hard to remain still, his muscles tense and his breath ragged. "Forgive me, Narcissa." Robb muttered against the crook of her neck. Did her tears offend or pain him, she wondered.
"Please just go on," she whispered, opening her eyes to look at the ceiling, at Walder Frey's ugly ceiling.
She wished she could say that the pain subsided after a few thrusts, but that would have been a lie. She forced herself to stop crying and instead focused on Robb's moans and groans just next to her ear, the way his warm skin felt around hers and the soft scratching of his stubble on her neck. Focusing on anything but the way how pain soured through her each time their skin forcefully collided down there.
How ironic it was that something that caused her so much pain procured him so much pleasure. With a twisted thought crossing her mind, Narcissa placed her hands on the muscles of his back, digging her nails into his skin as if hoping to inflict him a little pain but the raspy sounds coming out of his mouth weren't ones of pain, quite the opposite.
Robb came with a guttural groan which she was rather sure would have been heard in the adjoining rooms. She felt his seed coat her walls and quickly thought about the moon tea she had drank a few hours earlier. Slowly, Robb pulled himself out her and let his body fall next to hers, his chest moving raggedly and his fine chest hairs sticking to his skin with sweat. At least it wasn't an ugly sight. She actually had to suppress a tight smile, seeing him like this, eyes closed, half-open lips and a satisfied look on his face.
He took her by surprise, stretching out his arm on the mattress, inviting his wife to cuddle up against his body. She considered doing so for a split second, but the pain was still very much present and all she could think about was the blood on her skin and that it was his fault. She bit her lip again as she got out of bed, hoping that would help her handle the soreness and walked over to the washbasin, before grabbing a rag.
"Fuck, Narcissa!" Robb Stark cursed loudly and it was the first time she had heard him use such language. Immediately, she turned around to see him worriedly look between the sheets and herself. Narcissa knew there was blood between her tights, she had felt it there, but she hadn't expected there to have been so much on the bed. "I'm calling for a Maester," he decided, ready to jump out of bed.
"No, my lord, don't," Narcissa objected quickly, wetting the rag in the washbasin and avoiding his gaze. Old Walder's laughter wouldn't die down if he found out his granddaughter was so weak she required a Maester after her wedding night. Or maybe, he'd pat Robb Stark on the back to congratulate him. In any case, it was just blood and pain. War was coming and there would be a lot more of that, she was sure of it.
"At least let me help you," Robb insisted, leaving the bed before she could say anything.
"If you do not mind, my lord, I'd rather do it myself." Narcissa had grown up being taught that Westerosi men were barbarians. Walder Frey had proven her right, Robb Stark might have been on the right track to prove her wrong but in her head she was still Narcissa de Medici and she required no one's help. "You should go back to bed. A long ride awaits us tomorrow, my lord."
Thanks for reading! I have to say it was incredibly difficult to write 'smut' in the third person, made me like a voyeur haha. Hope you aren't disappointed!