Hello again! I apologize for not having posted yesterday because I was super tired after taking the exam and I would like to thank everyone who has taken their time to comment.
It would mean the world to me if you commented after reading! Not only as an encouragement to continue but also because I need to know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong so that I can improve. So, please leave me some feedback!
And in the meantime, enjoy!
Narcissa looked around herself as she exited the tent. The sun was already high in the sky and the camp seemed to be buzzing with excitement and fear, though she couldn't pinpoint where one emotion ended and the other began. A few men crossed her path, respectfully bowing their head at her and she couldn't help thinking about was that come tomorrow, trying to remember all their face, knowing some of them would be dead for a cause she couldn't believe to comprehend.
She wondered what her father would do in her stead. Would he stay with Robb and travel with him to King's Landing, or would he escape, and try making it on his own? Then she remembered her father didn't know war and that his teachings wouldn't be helpful this time. "He'd most likely be worrying about his finances and his family if he found himself stuck in Westeros," Narcissa concluded, a hopeful smile on her face, knowing Cosimo would raise hell on Earth to get her back once he knew of her situation.
"I was told you asked for me, Catelyn?" Narcissa announced her presence softly, walking inside a tent which only held women. There were about fifteen of them, it was more than she had even seen walking around camp.
"I did," Catelyn replied with a smile that only magnified the beauty of her cheekbones. "The men are getting ready for tomorrow. I was hoping you'd join us and help us mend their clothes?"
Narcissa turned away from Catelyn to look at the other women and noticed they were all sitting next to candles, needles in hand. For a second she wondered why any man would bring their wives to war, only to quickly realize most of them were whores except for a handful of nurses. And then she noticed that all these women were looking at her expectantly, waiting for her reaction and she knew that refusing wasn't exactly an option.
"Of course!" Narcissa chanted, feigning delight as she took a seat in front of Catelyn. She picked up a needle from the table and proceeded to draw some thread through the eye, almost stabbing herself in the process. Silently, Narcissa lifted a grey shirt from the pile of clothes, hoping that it had been washed beforehand.
It was not that she didn't know how to sew. Amara had taken great pride in teaching her only daughter some abilities that she believed every respectful women of Westerosi descent should have. However, that had been years ago, and as soon as she had turned twelve, father had started taking her to the bank with him and she had all but forgotten her mother's teachings.
Hoping that no one would notice her uncertainty, Narcissa started mending the garment as best as she could though even a one-eyed cyclops would believe it had been done by a child. Around her, all the women were chatting with each other though Narcissa remained silent, needing to focus on her hands. And yet, she couldn't keep her mind away from Piero and Gloria who were travelling alone in this dangerous times. Much to her surprise, she also caught herself thinking of Robb and couldn't ignore the clenching of herself when she imagined him in the battlefield tomorrow.
"My lady," a woman said a little louder than the ambient noise and Narcissa turned her head to look at her. She had long dark hair and was wearing a white apron over her blue dress. "Would you like telling us about your childhood? We are all curious to know more about you." Everyone but Catelyn nodded at her words, though all Narcissa could focus on was her accent. She knew that accent, it was from Volantis and she quietly wondered what the girl was doing so far from home before growing wary that in turn, she might recognize Narcissa's accent.
Narcissa didn't exactly feel like talking but everyone seemed eager to listen and Catelyn gave her an encouraging nod. She started telling lies after lies, worrying she wouldn't be able to remember them later. Naturally, she tried to keep it as close to reality as possible, to minimize the risk of her tongue slipping, but for the most part, it was all fiction. She told them of late-night talks with her cousins, of jousting's held in the garden during summer and of the sneaky bathing by the river shore.
"Those are actually Robb's." Catelyn commented as Narcissa grabbed a pair of leather breeches from the pile and the young woman immediately froze. Robb was a lord, he was used to having seamstresses and he'd certainly notice the poor work she'd do. Panic surged in her but among all the women in the tent, she couldn't very well refuse to mend her husband's clothes in particular.
The fabric was thicker and she was having a hard time puncturing the leather with the needle, especially since her ring kept getting tangled in the laces. Sighing with exasperation, Narcissa took off the jewelry before putting inside the pocket, making a mental note to retrieve it later. "That's a very beautiful ring," Catelyn commented, surprised by the size of the golden piece. "Does it have a meaning?"
"My brother gifted it to me after he accidentally broke my finger during a silly fight," Narcissa replied honestly, thinking of Lorenzo who was most likely currently lying in bed with a random woman back home. "He said it was an apology, but I know he only picked one this big to hide my crooked finger from father." She carried on, lifting her hand to show Catelyn the unnatural bend in her right ring finger, trying to hide the nostalgia.
-/-/-/-
Narcissa was bored, incredibly so, though she was rather reluctant to admit it. After the sewing, Lady Catelyn had gone to the nearby woods to pray in silence. She had offered Narcissa to join her, but she had refused, feeling both that praying was rather intimate and that as a non-believer, she'd be intruding.
Catelyn Stark prayed a lot, Narcissa soon discovered. She prayed for her son's success in battle, for her daughters' safety, for her husband's release. It made Narcissa jealous, to be able to quench one's fears by sharing them with an invisible presence. Instead, she was left to wander around the camp, worrying about all the things that could go wrong, both in Westeros and in Essos.
The war camp was large and not very linear. Narcissa soon found myself walking around in circles, having gotten halfway through the camp during her walk. While Robb and his bannermen were still in council, finishing the last details for tomorrow, most of the other men were training outside with their swords.
It reminded Narcissa of that time, over four years ago, when she and her father had visited Braavos to make sure their shares in the Iron Bank were being wisely managed. (They weren't: The Crown was in too much debt and father decided to sell their shares between any permanent damage was done.) Passing by the city at the same time was the Company of the Second Sons. In the two weeks she spent there, many not-so-subtle stares were shared between herself and Daario Naharis. She'd watch the sellswords train just to spend time with him. In that short period of time in Braavos, she even considered forgetting about the Thinkers and just travel across Essos with him as to never be away his lips ever again.
Father wouldn't be happy, not at all, but she was in love or at least believed to be. She told him about Daario and her father decided the three of them should talk. And then Daario opened his mouth, referring to her as his property, and the fairytale broke. Narcissa rode back to Florence, more determined than ever to take her vows.
She continued her walk through the encampment, some men stopping their activities a second to look at her and greet their lord's wife. Almost without a warning, the sun had set and the grounds became more quiet, most men entering tents to have supper or go to bed early in preparation of the battle to come. Narcissa considered doing the same when she walked past an open tent and saw a handful of men by a wooden table, playing cards.
"Would you mind if I joined you?" She asked sheepishly, afraid they wouldn't welcome her intrusion.
As soon as they recognized who she was, all the men stood up from their seats, looking uneasy and bowing slightly. "You're very welcome to join us, my lady," one of them finally said. He had ginger hair and freckles on his skin. Clive, his name was.
They made space for her on the bench and she started shuffling the cards. The room was silent and Narcissa almost laughed at their apparent discomfort. "You may talk as if I weren't here. I won't cut your tongues if you let some curse words slip here and there," she reassured the men and soon enough they were all drinking rum and sharing stories.
Narcissa quickly found two out of the five men weren't regular players. They were just partaking in it now to avoid thinking about what was to come the next day. The green-eyed one, however, was quite talented and she wondered if he also counted the cards in his head.
"Aye, I don't remember my first battle but I do remember the trip to the whorehouse afterwards." One of them shared, pouring himself another glass of rum because realizing Narcissa's cup was empty and filling it too. She was drinking more than her fair share, the liquid had stopped burning her throat a while ago and it just tasted like warm honey at this point.
"You shouldn't talk around the lady like that." The eldest one hissed, pointedly looking at her as if she couldn't hear him.
"Walder Frey is my grandfather. I doubt any of you could offend me at this point." Narcissa chirped in and the men laughed a little too loudly, alcohol warming their veins.
"Why are you always winning, my lady?" Travis, the ones with the deep green eyes, commented as he wrote another x on the piece of paper behind 'Stark'. "You must be cheating." He said with amusement and something else Narcissa couldn't name.
"I'm just using my head, something you don't appear to have." She replied mockingly though none of them appeared offended.
They played some more, stopping just a few minutes so Clive could go fetch them more rum and close the tent to keep out the cold. At this point, Narcissa should have been back in her tent and in bed, but numbed with alcohol, she didn't even realize how late it was. "Is it true that Robb Stark turns into a wolf at night?" The youngest one asked quietly mid-game before Travis smacked the back of his head. For a quick second, Narcissa wondered if he was even old enough to go to battle.
"Yes, but only during a full moon." She replied seriously and watched horror rise up in the boy's eyes before he realized she was pranking him and everybody laughed at his expense.
Suddenly, the tent opened only to reveal Robb Stark himself. "Speaking of the wolf," Clive commented under his breath before rising up with the others and echoes of 'my lord' filled the room until Robb told them all to sit back down.
"I went to our tent but you weren't there. Had me walking through the entire camp looking for you, Narcissa." Robb scolded her in front of everyone. She was might have felt patronized by his tone under different circumstances but tipsy as she was, she found it comforting that he worried about her.
"I thought you were still in council, my lord, and since I was bored, I came here to play cards," she explained, hoping not to slur her words but Robb only nodded gently.
"Thank you for entertaining my wife," he told the men genuinely and then lifted Narcissa off the bench without warning, before taking her spot and sitting her back down on his lap. It was the first time they had been so close since their wedding night and his action had surprised her but she didn't complain. Though from the corner of her eyes, she spotted Clive glaring at them.
The game resumed and Robb was wise enough not to tell her which cards to play, instead resting his hand on his wife's waist while observing the game. He stretched out his other arm over the table and took a sip of her cup. "Were you trying to get my wife drunk?" Robb asked accusatorily though Narcissa had smelled the alcohol in his own breath when he first approached her.
"Aye! She was the one pouring her own rum," the oldest one bellowed, making Narcissa blush. It was one thing to drink, it was a whole other thing to let her husband know she was wasted.
The game could have finished then but they decided to play one last round to settle between Narcissa or Clive as the winner. She leaned over the table to break the deck so that Felton could deal it, when she unmistakenly felt Robb's manhood rise beneath her as she moved. She felt herself blushing once again but knew the men would think it was due to the rum.
Throughout the last round, she found much enjoyment in moving unnecessarily just to listen to Robb gulping or hissing. Rather unfocused now, Narcissa ended up losing to Clive, though not by much.
"Maybe next time," he said apologetically, his green stare a little too intense.
Narcissa and Robb left the tent, allowing the men to get some much needed rest. It was pitch black outside now and Robb had to pick up a torch to guide them back to their tent. She found herself rather relieved he had come looking for her because she would have gotten lost on her own.
"I didn't expect to find you there," Robb admitted, walking next to Narcissa with her right tightly secured around his left one.
"I enjoy gambling," Narcissa said, liking her lips which the rum had dried out. "I was actually on a winning streak until you showed up and distracted me," she pouted, not knowing Robb was gazing at her, wondering if she was always painfully beautiful like tonight.
"If I'm not mistaken, it was the other way around, Narcissa." Robb replied, her name sounding different between his drunken lips. Less elegant and more croaky and for the first time, she actually enjoyed the sound of her own name.
"A lady would never do such a vile thing." She said, feigning offence though she couldn't keep herself from chuckling.
They reached their tent and she was surprised to find a small fire waiting for them. The perks of sharing a Lord's tent, she concluded. Narcissa walked to the bed and pulled her shift from beneath the pillow before changing into her nightclothes. When she turned around, she found her husband sitting by the table, his doublet discarded, pouring himself another cup of wine.
"Are you sure, that's wise?" She inquired carefully, frowning.
"You've had just as much as me this evening, if not more," Robb witted, offering her a cup which she gladly accepted against her own better judgment.
"Yes, but I'll have the whole morning to regret it," Narcissa pointed out with a tint of sarcasm but Robb's lips didn't pull up like she had expected. Without thinking, she came up behind him and brushed back his hair back before resting her hands on his shoulders. "Are you worried for tomorrow, Robb?" She inquired softly, massaging his shoulders, not realizing it was the first time she had addressed him by his name.
Robb, however, noticed it and couldn't deny the warmth that he suddenly felt at having his wife finally call him by his name. Almost like they had just reached a milestone in their couple, though in his mind he knew it had been the alcohol which had caused her tongue to slip. In the few times they had been together, Narcissa had always seemed conspicuously distant and uninvolved, like an otherworldly creature than only seemed to exist through a mirage.
"Wouldn't you be?" He murmured, eyes closed as he enjoyed the reassuring feeling of her fingers on his skin through the thin barrier of his shirt. It had been a long time since he'd last felt that sort of comfort.
"I suppose I would," Narcissa admitted pensively. "But you are Robb Stark and stark means strong in Old German." It was the first time she had thought about the etymology of his name, but now that she had, she found the meaning rather fitting even as she looked down and noticed that he was humming softly with his eyes closed.
Robb Stark was very handsome, his head framed with wild brown curls that almost gave him a boyish look, and it was the first time she thought of him that way, not with her head, but with her belly.
"You ought to come to bed, Robb," she whispered, removing her hands from his shoulders and walking over to the bed.
"I'm afraid I won't be able to sleep and will just keep you awake," Robb murmured, blue eyes half closed.
"I didn't say anything about sleep," Narcissa drawled with a boldness that only came with rum.
Robb felt light-headed as he stared at his wife who was slowly undoing the first couple of buttons on her white chemise before letting the garment slide down her body and pile up at her feet on the ground. She looked just as he remembered from their wedding night, though her attitude was much different.
Her body seemed like it had been molded after an hourglass by the Gods themselves and Robb couldn't resist the temptation. He was barely conscious of having gotten up at all when he found himself standing tall in front of her, sliding a hand beneath her chin so that he could kiss her. He tasted the warm honey left back by the rum on her lips and couldn't help groaning when he felt Narcissa's hands undoing the laces of his breeches.
She pulled back from his lips with all-knowing smirk, slowly backing to the bed and Robb followed her without question, though at this point, he might have followed her into the depths of the ocean without question either.
Narcissa didn't pull back when his hands roamed her body, didn't stop him when his teeth nibbled on her hardened nipple. She moaned instead and it was the first time he had ever heard her do so, and what an arousing sound it was! Dark, carnal lust filled him as he placed kisses on every inch of skin and watched her squirm beneath him with desire, the aloofness that rarely ever left her presence now long gone.
Robb's hunger overpowered him, the friction of her lower body around his groin no longer enough. He wanted to feel her. No, he needed to feel her all around him. But then, memories from their first night flickered through his mind, and he closed his eyes, willing himself to stop, not wanting to hurt her again. He then felt Narcissa move beneath him, lifting her upper body until their foreheads touched and he couldn't resist leering at her. She wasn't afraid, the emotion in her eyes was an entirely different one. "I'm not scared, Robb," Narcissa whispered against him and that was all the encouragement he had needed.
He watched her back arch when he entered her, her eyes closed as her hands gripped the sheets. She was sinfully beautiful beneath him and he mentally thanked the Old Lords for having made her his.
Robb had intent on keeping a slow place, wanting to prolong this moment as much as possible, wanting to engrave her breathless image into his memory but then she lifted her legs and trapped him between them. They gasped in unison at the new angle, the poised Narcissa long gone as she slid one hand beneath their bodies, desperate for more fiction and soon enough, Robb found himself cursing as his vision faded to black and he spilled inside her.
As you can see, I didn't manage to reach the Battle of the Whispering Wood this chapter so that will be on the next one, as well as some sad news that you all know are about to come!
Please leave me your comments!