Sorry for the long wait! Not only did I have tons of exams but I tore a muscle on my thigh and was in so much pain, I had to be brought to hospital and couldn't even begin to think about writing.
Warnings: Most of you have an idea of what is coming but I still felt a warning was required.
This chapter contains blood, gore, massacre and death. Do not proceed if you cannot handle that. Though, if you survived through S3E09, you'll survive through this, I promise.
I'll admit I feel a little self-conscious about this chapter because I'm not used to writing this kind of stuff and I'm not sure I was able to convey the correct atmosphere.
"Excuse me." Narcissa repeated the words half a dozen times to get to the front of the Sept where Robb was already standing next to his mother. Edmure was at the very end of the aisle, restlessly waiting for his bride by the seven pointed star.
"Where have you been?" Robb asked her as soon as she took her place next to him. It seemed that lately, that was all he ever asked her. She was wearing a burgundy dress and not the blue one he had expected her to wear. He was quite sure Narcissa would have looked beautiful even if clothed in a potato sack, but he would have liked to see her in the more tightfitting dress. Perhaps it was just as well, too many eyes were on her already as it was and Robb didn't exactly enjoy the kind of attention she was getting from the male guests despite the baby bump.
"Exploring," she replied with a mischievous smile, taking his hand in hers. It wasn't a lie, not really, and it was as much as she could reveal without him getting angry.
Robb desperately wanted to be mad at her for her behavior but her good mood was contagious. She was without doubt in a much higher spirits than she had been at her own wedding, it was almost as she had been relieved of some burden. "Remind me to keep you on a tighter leash from now on," he simply sighed, not sure if he was joking or not.
Narcissa looked around Sept, noticing the many candles as they casted a solemn atmosphere to the room. Everyone seemed to have made an effort in terms of clothing except for her and the Blackfish. Even Bolton who stood right behind was wearing a more elegant black doublet though for some reason, it made him look more bulky. Who really caught her attention though, was her husband.
Robb looked dashing in a cinder, fitted cotehardie which did little to hide his muscular torso. Even his cloak was lightweight albeit just as dark, held together by clasps in the shape of dire wolves' heads. Yes, she would have married Robb a thousand times over before even considering Edmure or anyone else for that matter.
"What?" He asked quietly when he noticed her staring at him without hiding it.
"You are a very handsome man, Robb Stark," Narcissa replied with pursed lips, not one inch embarrassed that she had been caught staring. Robb, however, felt blood rush to his cheeks and it didn't go unnoticed by Narcissa who chuckled against the crook of his shoulder.
The room went dead quiet before he could reply anything and everyone turned their heads to the aisle to catch a look at the bride and her father. Her head was entirely hidden beneath a veil and Narcissa turned to Edmure, enjoying the anxiety on his face until finally the veil was removed and he breathed out in relief when she wasn't nearly as ugly as any of them had expected. She was beautiful even, Narcissa reckoned.
The ceremony was a lengthy affair, it seemed that a wedding in the faith of the Seven entailed much more dialogue and formalities than hers had in the Godswood. Narcissa felt her legs grow tired under the weight of the chain mail as the ceremony dragged on but decided against leaning on Robb – it wasn't worth explaining the chain mail.
Finally the groom kissed his bride and the guests were allowed to exit the Sept and head to the great hall for the feast. Narcissa strayed a little behind, talking with Catelyn as they walked along the keep. Her mother-by-law was finally allowing herself to smile again, now that they had a better chance at winning this war. Narcissa agreed, she had an unexplainable sensation that they were slowly reaching the end of this bloodbath people called war, that soon it would be all over and that one day, it would be nothing more than a distant memory.
Everyone took their assigned seats and Narcissa was glad to notice that a place had been reserved for Clive at her request. Walder felt the need to speak a few words before allowing the party to start eating. As was habit, Robb started piling up food on her plate. Since their wedding, he had learnt she was quite picky when it came to food and it was easier to remember was she did eat than what she did not.
The mood was light and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, Edmure and Roslin especially. At their table, Brynden and Clive were getting along rather well, sharing jokes. Only Roose was brooding, but Narcissa hadn't ever seen him any other way. Robb commented on his lack of drinking, teasing him about him being the pregnant woman at the table but Roose merely replied it dulled the senses. Wasn't that the very point of it, Narcissa wondered. At least with one glass or two, she could ignore the presence of her grandfather not far away.
"Alright, Blackfish, listen closely," Clive ordered, looking only Brynden but the whole table was listening to their conversation at this point. "A blind man walks into a tavern," he said before pausing dramatically. "And a table and a chair."
Narcissa laughed so loudly at the bad joke, the wine she was drinking came rushing out of her nostrils. This in turn brought everyone to laughter, even Robb as he cleaned her face with a napkin. Everyone made a point to share a joke of their own then, even Bolton though no one really laughed at his.
"Your Grace." Walder Frey announced loudly, clapping his hands once to get everyone to pay attention just after the Blackfish had left the room to 'go find a tree to piss on'. "The Septon has prayed his prayers, some words were said and Lord Edmure has wrapped my daughter in a cloak but they are not yet man and wife." Walder stopped to regain his breath as men were starting to clap and whistle around the room. "A sword needs a sheath," Walder joked but their entire table remained silent. "And a wedding needs a bedding."
Narcissa watched with big eyes as the newlywed couple was dragged out of the hall as the bedding ceremony was called. She felt sorry for little Roslin as most of her wedding gown was ripped open before she was even out of sight.
"Thank you for calling off that horror when we got married," Narcissa whispered into his ear, her hand on his shoulder to tilt him to her. It was one of the most degrading things she had ever witnessed and she was immensely grateful she didn't have to go through the same thing. The bed sheets exhibition was awful, but nothing compared to this.
"It's tradition," Robb chuckled, watching the bedding cortege before turning to her. "But I would never have imposed that on you." He murmured before kissing the palm of her hand, his blue eyes boring into hers and Narcissa felt some giddiness at the touch, imagining his lips on other places of her body as blood rushed to her cheeks.
"I'm happy I married you," she admitted with a grin which Robb was quick to match before it turned into a smirk.
"Oh, are you now?" He teased, now drawing abstract patterns on her palm with the tip of his fingers. "If I remember correctly, you were trying to escape our marriage not so long ago." Robb leaned forward, whispering huskily into her ear, his beard rubbing on her neck as she smelled the alcohol on his breath. "So, tell me. What exactly made you change your mind, Cissa?"
Narcissa recognized his voice, it was the tone he used when he had a very clear idea of how they should spend the night and for some reason, she always fell for it. His fingers started sliding up her arm, still featherlike, making her shiver and melt under his touch, until she remember the armor and halfheartedly pulled herself away with him.
"It's getting late and I'm tired." Narcissa announced then, standing up from her chair. "I'm retiring for the night," she murmured before kissing his cheek.
"I'm coming with you." Robb immediately offered, getting up as well but she pushed him back into his chair with a smirk.
"You're the guest of honor, you cannot leave early," she teased, knowing that he hated his kingly status. Robb still looked like he wanted to protest but she shut him up with a peck to his lips. "Clive will stay with me until you get back and if I get some sleep now, you might get lucky later," she purred with a failed wink, well aware she looked anything but seductive then and yet Robb was convinced of the very opposite as he longingly watched her walk away.
"No longer sad you had to marry her?" Catelyn teased her son as she walked behind him to her seat. He always looked so happy whenever he was with his wife or even just thinking of her, and it warmed her heart to know her son hadn't been dragged into a loveless marriage.
Robb chuckled at his mother, taking another sip of wine. He had probably had more alcohol than he should, but wedding celebrations weren't the same without too much to drink. "Quite the opposite actually, mother." He replied.
"Maybe to thank me for my matchmaking services, you could name one of your future daughters after me," she suggested not too subtly and Robb scoffed at his mother's suggestion. At this point, so many people wanted him to name his children after them, that Narcissa and he would have to be very busy to satisfy all their requests.
On the other side of the room, Narcissa and Clive were heading out when two of her uncles suddenly closed the double doors just as the music changed into something less joyous and more elegant. She appreciated the more refined melody though it seemed a little grim for a wedding.
Clive went to talk with one of the Freys to get them to reopen the doors and Narcissa stayed close behind him, wanting to leave the feast as quickly as possible so she could take off the chain mail in her chambers. "The Queen wishes to retire," Clive told one of the men guarding the doors, his voice stern.
"Your Grace," Walder said loudly and the music stopped at once. Narcissa turned around and saw Robb approaching her grandfather who was beckoning him over. "I feel the time has come for me to share a story with you." Her grandfather announced, gesturing for two servants to walk away and Narcissa noticed with confusion that they were in fact approaching her.
"A story, my lord?" Robb inquired with sarcasm and Narcissa didn't need to see his face to know he was sporting that arrogant cock of his brow.
"Yes, a story." Walder nodded just as the two servants stopped only a few feet away from her, each holding a silver plate covered with a food dome. "Many, many years ago, a tall proud man came into my castle and insisted he marry my daughter. I never saw Amara again," her grandfather went on as everybody remained silent and listened intensely. "Many, many years later his daughter came into my castle like nothing had happened, waltzing in like she owned the place." The old man said, shaking his head for more theatricality. "Why should Cosimo get his daughter back when I never got mine?"
So there it was, Narcissa realized with misplaced amusement. The Blackfish was right in his suspicions. She looked around the room, trying to find him so she could admit defeat but he was nowhere to be seen. Then, the servants in front of her threw the food domes on the floor and Robb turned his head at the noise but Narcissa's attention was focused on the plates. Or rather, on the heads which were served on the plates.
She threw up a little in her mouth as she recognized Piero and Gloria's heads even though their faces had started to rot, the skin grey and purple. Shock had her paralyzed as she kept on staring at the plates, feeling all color leave her face.
Everything happened very quickly, concomitantly. She heard Catelyn scream her son's name as she slapped Roose Bolton. Robb turned around to see what was going on, and immediately starting running towards her. Clive grabbed her arm and tried to force the doors to open to get her out of there but was stabbed on the back before he could succeed. Narcissa watched with horror as his lifeless body fell to the ground, barely noticing Black Walder approach by her right side, knife in hand until he was right in front of her. He tried piercing the blade through her chest but the knife got stuck between the metallic rings on the mail and it was only then that she went back to her senses. The blow had hurt even though it hadn't gone past the armor and she found herself smirking at her uncle's failure.
Smirking until arrows starting raining from the skies without warning, and bodies fell to the floor by the dozen. Her eyes immediately diverted to center of the hall, feeling panicked as she tried finding Robb amid the chaos. Narcissa barely noticed as Black Walder grabbed another knife from a nearby table to stab her in the belly with it. He used all his strength to drive it into her stomach but just like his previous attempt, it didn't pierce through the metal. Acting on autopilot, Narcissa forcefully pulled the knife away from her armor and stabbed her uncle in the eye with it, vaguely noticing him fall to the ground in agony as she was barely aware of having moved at all.
She scanned the room for Robb, praying to the Gods that he had managed to find cover when she was struck by a sharp pain on the right side of her belly. The sting made her fall over and she barely made it beneath a table as the pain became stronger. She touched her belly looking for prove of an injury, but her hand came back dry. It was only then that she felt something run down the insides of her thighs. She pulled up her skirts and noticed the red liquid on her pale skin as it made its way down from her core to the floor. A wave of nausea hit her as she realized what was going on when her belly contracted again with pain.
Tears welled up in her eyes but it wasn't the physical pain. Her daughter was gone. Robb was convinced it was a boy, but in Narcissa's mind it had always been a baby girl. Her baby girl. And now it was all gone, gone with the red sticky substance that was exuding from her. She tried finding Robb with her eyes, needing him by her side but she could barely think straight as she clenched her stomach between her arms.
Narcissa starred at the massacre happening around her with a constricted heart, feeling her blood pressure drop as she felt she was about to faint. Maege Mormont was lying in a pool of her own blood just merely a few feet away from her, and more blood still kept seeping out of her wounds. Narcissa wanted to do something, help in some way, any way but she remained still even as she implored her body to move with all her strength.
And then somehow, in the middle of the carnage, she managed to find him on the floor, surrounded by corpses. Arrows were sticking out of every part of his body but for his head and perhaps for the first time in her life, she started sobbing heavily like a child. Tears began running down her face, some of them finding their way into her mouth until she couldn't taste anything but the bitterness of sorrow.
He raised his head then and she saw his pain when she looked into his eyes. His face was twisted with anguish and that hurt her more than any physical pain ever could. Narcissa opened her mouth, desperate to tell him to hide beneath a table but the words died on her lips, only a strangled sound escaped her throat as he kept staring at her, his eyes almost glazed over now. Without any rationality left, she started crawling to him, never abandoning the shelter of the tables as she left a trail of blood behind her.
Robb felt all his breath leave his body as another arrow hit his back but he barely acknowledged the pain. Narcissa was here, in the middle of all this, bleeding and crying and it was all his fault. He should have left her back at Riverrun. Instead, Robb noticed with horror the blood dripping down her ankles as she started crawling up to him rather than trying to reach an exit. What was she doing?!
With all the strength he had left, Robb tried standing up on his feet again, his hand holding the floor for support as everything seemed to be spinning around him, making him dizzy. He was going to carry her out of there if it was the last thing he did. He just hoped he was still strong enough to bring her to safety before dying. Maybe one day she'd forgive him.
But he couldn't see her anymore. A puddle of blood now lay in her stead and Robb looked around the room with frantic worry, almost collapsing again due to his injuries if someone hadn't grabbed him by the back of his cloak.
A panting Narcissa finally managed to reach the table closest to Robb, ready to pull him down to her when she saw Roose Bolton walk up to him from behind before spinning him around easily. It was only then that she noticed how his grey clothes had now entirely turned burgundy and she felt a part of soul break at the sight.
She was almost paralyzed with agony when her eye caught something shiny in Bolton's hand. "The Lannisters send their regards." Roose stated flatly and it all clicked in her mind. Narcissa was barely conscious of having moved at all, when she leapt forward without a warning and grabbed Bolton's foot, pulling him down with her. The traitor fell to the floor face-first and Narcissa now noticed with fright the blood on his dagger as she straddled his back.
Everything seemed to slow down around her as her hands grabbed the back of Roose's skull before smashing his head on the stone floor. Once. Twice. Thrice. Until it barely looked like a head at all. Narcissa found herself grinning then, from ear to ear, tears streaming down her face as she stared at the traitor's corpse. A once proud man now lay beneath her, disfigured and dead.
It was only Robb's voice who pulled her back from that dark place in her mind. It was a whisper, her name, as he collapsed on the ground right in front of her, his blue eyes closing as she looked at him.
And just as suddenly as everything had slowed down, it all started moving again. She tried pulling him up so the arrows on his back wouldn't dig in deeper but her hands kept slipping on his wet clothes. There was blood everywhere she looked. The walls, the floor, the tables and him. Blood was flowing out of his stabbing wound. Roose might have missed his heart because of her but the wound as just a fatal.
Resting his head on her lap, she brought both her hands to the gaping wound and started applying pressure but blood kept seeping through the thin spaces between her fingers, warm, and thick, and crimson and her vision blurred over. "No, no, no, no," she muttered again and again, bringing one hand to his face, shaking it in hopes of waking him up but the only thing she managed to do was covering his face in even more blood. She tried feeling his heart beat beneath her hands but she was shaking too much.
Narcissa barely noticed Catelyn's agonizing scream of a mother losing her child as she slit open the girl's throat. The scream only stopped when Lothar slit her own throat from behind, putting her out of misery as her lifeless body collapsed to the ground.
Narcissa wanted to scream as well but only cries escaped her lips. The blood flow from the stabbing wound had slowed down but somehow she knew that wasn't a good sign. Just as he lay dying in front of her, lethargic and covered in his own blood, a piece of her died as well. Her innocence was gone forever. The tears pooling at her eyes drove her blind as she cradled him to her, praying to whichever Gods were listened to trade her life for his. "You cannot die like this, Robb," she sobbed, his hair now wet with her tears. "This is not how you're meant to go."
A loud noise coming from the other side of the room instinctively made her turn her head at the sound. The double doors flew open as soldiers poured inside. Narcissa stared at them with confusion until she found her armor-clad brother among them, sword in hand. Finally.
"Kill them all!" She yelled as loudly as she could, still cradling Robb against her. "Kill them all but spare me Walder Frey!" She ordered.
Muffled screams filled her ears as if happening far away. And then two pairs of boots appeared in front of her. She tried pulling Robb closer to her but she was too weak and two men started dragged him away from her, carefully by his arms and legs. Narcissa tried to stop them, scratching at the skin on their hands as they took him. She started crawling after them, miserably, her wet hands slipping on the stone floor as she tried pushing the corpses away. She would beg them to bring him back to her if that was what it took, she would do anything, anything at all but a warm hand on her shoulders pulled her back. "They're bringing him to the healers. You cannot go with them, they'll work better alone." Lorenzo explained calmly, his long dark hair falling around her face as he crouched over his sister. His hands went to her armpits, trying to pull her up but she didn't allow him to, kicking him with her feet and he let go of her. She was sobbing loudly, staring at her bloodied hands in front of her. And then the sobs turned into screams, loud enough to wake the dead she hoped.
Narcissa felt her hand move to Roose and grabbed the dagger from his grip before stabbing him on the back with it again and again, until the blade got stuck between the ribs and she couldn't pull it out. She screamed even louder then, but it was more like an agonizing shriek of a dying animal as she finally gave up and left the blade poking out of Roose's back.
"Pull yourself together, sister." Lorenzo said sternly, watching over his Narcissa with concern even though the woman in front of him looked nothing like the Cissa he remembered. "Remember what our father said when he was sentenced to die: The whole tree does not die because one branch falls."
Narcissa felt the need hit him on the head with the figurative branch then. Robb was not a branch, he wasn't even a tree. He was her entire forest and she needed him to breathe. "They, it, he," she stuttered, still kneeling on the floor. "Robb, he…" She murmured, her sobs making her words unintelligible.
"I know, sister," Lorenzo groaned coldly, surveying the room to make sure they were out of harm's way. "But remember who you are. A Medici, forged in gold and gold doesn't cry."
Narcissa wanted to yell at him. She was a Medici no more, she was a Stark. She had just lost her baby, her mother-by-law, Clive and most likely Robb too. For all she knew, she might be the last Stark alive in this world. If anyone had a right to cry and scream, then it was her. She stared at her brother blankly, not recognizing him anymore, neither of them blinking until a shiver ran down her spine as she saw her reflection on her brother's eyes. Kneeling, crying, weak and pathetic. That wasn't her.
Her sobbing stopped immediately and no more sounds came from her throat. The tears in her eyes disappeared almost at once and the wet streaks on her cheeks dried out on her skin just as her hands stopped shaking. She was a Medici and she was forged in gold.
She held on to a chair for support as she pulled herself back to her feet with difficulty. Her knees protested at the effort and the soreness inside her stomach only grew worse but she bit her tongue and kept quiet.
Narcissa stood up to her full height, eyeing her brother carefully before giving him a nod. He looked the same as always, long silky hair and all jaws. "You are right, brother." She said, her voice surprisingly clear.
She started making her way outside, well aware of her limp but still with her head held high as she avoided stepping on the corpses that littered the floor. She slipped a few times, the soles of her shoes covered in blood but she managed to regain her balance each time. The noises became louder as she approached the door. Screams, whimpers, groans and wailings but it didn't make her feel anything at all, it was as if they weren't even there.
"Where is Walder Frey?" She asked over the screams. Men were dying at her command and she still felt no emotion over it. It was nothing more than a fact. They were dying and she was not.
"We have him locked in a room, as you asked," the mercenary replied, eyeing her brother behind her. He wasn't sure whom he was to take orders from.
"Good. I'll pay him a visit later." She decided, making her way to the stairs before remembering. "As for Roose Bolton, make sure he is flayed and keep his skin in good shape."
The mercenary nodded and Narcissa took the first step on the stairs.
Pain shot through her whole body, her legs and stomach protesting at the action as if she had been stumped on by thousand horses. And yet, after no more than ten steps, it stopped hurting all together. There was no more pain, neither on her body nor in her heart. She felt empty and light as they reached the top of the northern tower.
Narcissa walked over to very edge, wind beating her skin to numbness. She saw fires beneath her, slaughtered horses and dead men as the piles of corpses were still growing larger and she felt nothing. There was no fear or satisfaction, only emptiness and a tinge of curiosity. How bad would the smell be in the morning? How much time would it take to clean everything up? Would anything ever be the same again? She tried shaking the thoughts out of her head, instead taking in what was happening below her and making sure no one escaped alive.
"You should really go see a healer," Lorenzo pleaded, appearing next to her. "And get cleaned up. I can smell the blood on you," he said.
"The blood on me did not come from a wound, Lorenzo," she explained flatly. "It came from my womb. I was with child."
Her brother went silent next to her until the meaning of her words hit him. "I am so sorry, Narcissa," he blurted out before kissing the top of her head. It felt foreign to feel his touch again. "But you still need to be examined, make sure the, the rest of you is unharmed." He stuttered.
"Right now I feel nothing, no pain. I am sure than in a few hours it will all come rushing down on me. Until then, I intend to enjoy this numbness." The truth was Robb would most likely die and none of his men could learn about her miscarriage. It would mean the Northern Kingdom had fallen with no heirs. She had to be a Queen tonight, she would have time to be a person tomorrow.
Suddenly she heard footsteps behind her and turned around to see the Blackfish. He was covered in blood and guts, and smelled just as terribly but he was alive, that was more than most could say. "The traitors are being put to death as we speak," he informed her, spitting on the floor.
At least some good news. "I want everyone loyal to the Freys or the Boltons to be dead by sunrise."
"Women and children too?" Her brother asked, his gloved hand still on her shoulder.
"I said everyone, did I not?" Narcissa snarled through gritted teeth as her brother pulled his hand back as if he had just been burnt.
The Blackfish nodded gravely, seemingly in agreement with her. "What do we do then?" He asked and Narcissa spun on her feet to stare at the vast lands surrounding her. She was certain than in the morning, the grass would be red and the mud tasting of blood.
She looked as numb as she felt then, her features expressionless. "We'll send one of Walder Frey's ravens to King's Landing. We'll say the war is over and the Starks have lost. We'll say Catelyn Stark, Robb Stark and Narcissa Stark are dead."
Both Lorenzo and Brynden looked they wanted to object but she didn't allow them the time. "Until then, you make sure no word, no man, no raven leaves the Twins. For all purposes now, we are all dead." She might just as well be at this point anyway. Was she still being kept alive by her beating heart or on spite alone, she wondered.
One of the Stark soldiers came running up to them. She didn't know his name but she had seen him around Robb often enough to recognize his face.
"There's a large man downstairs. He says that he has Arya Stark and that he wants to talk either to her mother or to her brother."
It didn't take a genius to figure out why he had come up to her with the message. Catelyn was dead, Robb might have died as soon as they took him from her.
"Very well, I'll meet with him." Narcissa nodded before descending the stairs of the tower. The man was most likely lying but she owed it to Robb and to Catelyn to make sure. She almost slipped on the stairs, the blood on her heels not helping her keep grounded.
It was only when she was back downstairs that she noticed the mess. Broken furniture and torn tapestry everywhere, just like the corpses littering the floor.
The tall man stood in the hallway, surrounded by two mercenaries. He had horrible burn scars on the right side of his face and he was most likely the biggest man she had ever seen. "You wanted to talk, I'm listening." She deadpanned, leaning against the wall for support though from the outside it looked like nonchalance.
The man eyed her up and down. "I said I will only speak to Lord Stark or Lady Stark." He growled.
"I am the only Lady Stark in this castle and I'm listening," Narcissa replied, her patience running thin.
"I have Arya Stark." The man informed and Narcissa eyed him carefully, but was unable to decide if he was lying or not.
"How much you want in exchange?" She asked and he looked surprised by her directness. "State your price."
"Fifty thousand." The man stated confidently and Narcissa felt a strong need to laugh before managing to compose herself. Fifty thousand? That was the price for a person? She would pay it tenfold to get Robb back. Did the Old Gods accept Gold Dragons, she wondered with irony.
"Give the man his gold," she said, looking at the mercenaries before sending him off with the scarred man.
The soldiers and the man disappeared outside and Narcissa turned to her brother. "That man is not to leave this castle alive." She ordered and Lorenzo nodded at her words.
Suddenly, a small girl entered the hallway through the same door her brother had just disappeared in. Narcissa called her small but she was barely taller than the girl, though quite older. The girl didn't look much like Catelyn or Robb, but then again, he had always told her how Arya had inherited the Stark looks and not the Tully's features. Next to her the Blackfish was eyeing the girl just as suspiciously, he had never met either of his grandnieces.
"I suppose you are Arya Stark," Narcissa inquired politely.
"Who are you?" The dark-haired girl spat, taking a step back, her hand on the hilt on her thin sword and once again, Narcissa felt like laughing. "Kill me, please. I beg you," she wanted to say and drop to her knees.
"Your brother's wife," she replied curtly, stretching out of her hand. "Narcissa Stark."
The girl didn't shake her hand. Instead, she furrowed her eyebrows and took an ever more defensive stance. "Where is he? Where is my mother?" She hissed, looking around herself anxiously. Narcissa couldn't blame her, it was a bloody mess.
"Your brother," Narcissa replied, at a loss for words. "He is currently not receiving visitors." She said, trying to put it gently but the look on the girl's face let her know she wasn't fooled by the carefully chosen words. Good, it meant she was smart. "As for your mother, well she is…" She drawled, tilting her head towards the great hall hoping she would catch the meaning or that the Blackfish would explain the rest for her.
Instead, the girl disappeared from their sight, running inside the dining hall without a warning. Brynden immediately followed her in, Narcissa took longer to move. Once inside, the first she saw was Clive's body lying by the door and she had to force herself to look away before everything would come rushing back.
She watched Arya at the far end of the room, crouched over her mother's body and Narcissa immediately regretted having let her inside. No child should see their mother like that. She knew the girl was crying, she could see her body shaking from afar and it made her feel powerless.
"You should go talk to her." Brynden muttered, suddenly appearing next to her as he too watched his grandniece cry over Catelyn.
"And what do I say, huh?" Narcissa snapped, before taking a few breaths that made her lungs burn. "You are her granduncle, you should go."
"She doesn't know me, she won't trust me." The Blackfish replied shaking his head before lifting up the medallion Narcissa wore around her neck. "You are a Stark, she'll trust you."
Narcissa wanted to refuse once again, but didn't. Instead, she walked over to the girl, carefully not to stare at Catelyn's corpse for too long before opening her arms, inviting Arya in for a hug. The girl frowned in response but didn't budge, still holding her mother's hand in hers and Narcissa let her arms fall to her sides. She held the girl company for what felt like ages, even though it was most likely no more than an hour. The longer she stood still, the more she worried about Robb. Lorenzo had promised her he would let her know if there was news, but the more time passed, the more hope she lost.
"Come with me," she said at last, standing up.
"Where are you going?" The girl inquired suspiciously.
"To execute the man responsible for this, Walder Frey."
Arya still didn't entirely trust her but followed her nonetheless out of the hall to the main corridor. Narcissa talked with Brynden before heading up the main staircase. Arya followed her silently, still overwhelmed by everything that was happening when Narcissa pulled up her skirts a little in order not to step on the hem, revealing streaks of blood on her ankles. Arya wanted to ask her about it, but it fell out of place. Everything felt out of place to her.
They stopped in the chambers Narcissa and Robb shared, and Arya couldn't help noticing her brother's thick fur cloak draped over the back of a chair. Narcissa grabbed the Valyrian steel sword from her trunk and turned around, right in time to watch Arya's fingers brush over her husband's cloak, tears on her eyes. How long was it since Arya had been with her family? Two years? And now she would never be with her parents again, Robb neither most likely. Narcissa felt sorry for her.
She knew deep down that all hope was lost, she only needed to look down at her own hands to notice how much blood he had lost. And yet, right now, it all felt so far away, as if she was reading about it in a book, not living through it herself. Grief and sorrow was evident on Arya's face, but Narcissa's was stoic. Tomorrow she would mourn. She would cry and scream until her insides hurt as much as her heart, but tonight she couldn't do it. She had to keep herself from thinking about it too long, or she would fall to the floor in a fetal position in tears, paralyzed by pain and entirely useless.
Arya noticed the other girl staring at her then, but she supposed the appropriate term was woman. She had dark brown hair that somehow made her look older than her twenty maybe twenty-one namedays, or perhaps it was the dark circles under her eyes or her hollowed cheeks. Arya wondered how the girl looked, when she hadn't been through a massacre and blood didn't stain all her visible skin. What struck her most were her hands, they were so crimson it looked as if she had decided to wear gloves to match her dress. "Does it have a name?" Arya asked, suddenly noticing the sword in the other woman's hands.
Narcissa frowned as she looked down at the blade between her hands. The letters of her mother's name shone in dimness of the chambers as clearly as if in bright daylight. And yet, somehow it felt wrong to give the name of such a kind woman to a deadly weapon. "It has now," Narcissa decided. "Invicta."
Silently, both made their way to the lord's chambers, down the narrow hallway. The door was already open when they got there and Brynden was standing before a shackled, kneeling Walder Frey. He looked even older like that, without his characteristic arrogance. Narcissa walked over to the bed and pushed back the covers, revealing white bed sheets just like expected. She handed the Blackfish her sword, tilting her head towards the bed before taking a seat on one of the chairs by the fireplace and beckoned Arya to her who hesitantly complied.
Brynden lifted the man on the bed and had him kneeing on the mattress, before diverting his attention to Narcissa who gave him a quick nod. "Cut his throat. Shallowly." 'I have time' she almost added. What could he do to them now that he hadn't already? The Blackfish looked at his grandniece with worry, but the little girl didn't look frightened.
It was beautiful, truly. A real piece of art Narcissa looked forward to hanging on the wall, just next to the door leading to great hall. First, for a millisecond, there was only a thin red line on crimson skin. And then blood started spurting everywhere, her face included but most of it went on the bedsheets.
She didn't blink, afraid she would miss the cathartic moment if she did but it never came. Walder died just like he had lived – extraordinarily ordinarily and disappointingly. She had expected to find some peace with his death, a sense of vengeance but it felt empty in her heart. There was that gaping hole in her and Walder's blood didn't fill it up.
She sat there for a full hour, long after her grandfather was nothing more than a corpse. She watched as the crimson red stain turned burgundy and crusty. Red truly was a horrible color, she realized. Bright or dull, it always meant death. Robb was right, blue was better. She gave the girl next to her a quick glance and noticed Arya looked just as contemplative. She was strong this one, Narcissa thought, she would undoubtedly amount to great things.
There was a small knock on the door and Narcissa stood up, barely noticing the stain she had left on the cushion. It was her brother who stood outside and she couldn't decipher his expression to decide whether he was the bearer of good or bad news.
"Robb?" She asked urgently but it came out as a whisper.
"Still no news," Lorenzo replied apologetically, giving her sister's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "It's late, Cissa. You should see a healer, take a bath and get some rest. Tomorrow is another day." He suggested carefully.
"I don't need a healer." She protested quietly. For now, she could allow herself that tiny irrational hope that everything was alright, that she had imagined the pain and that nothing had happened, that she still carried a piece of Robb within her. She would lose that last string of hope after a healer examined her and she wasn't ready to let go of it just yet. "But I suppose it's time for a bath," she agreed reluctantly.
Lorenzo nodded at her and disappeared into the dark corridors. Narcissa leaned on doorway, half inside, half outside, half alive, half dead as she waited for Arya. Had she truly sinned so badly, she needed to be punished like this, she asked herself. She thought back to her wedding day, to the four prayers she had addressed the Old Gods: To see her mother one last time, to let Gloria and Piero go back to Essos, for her to return home and most of all, not to make her widow. Surely, they would at least grant her the fourth prayer?
Arya appeared next to her and together they made their way back to Narcissa's chambers. Two copper tubs were waiting for them, filled with hot water. Narcissa didn't miss a beat, immediately unlacing her dress and removing her chain mail. Bending forward, she was almost surprised to see that her bump was still there, even though a large bruise now covered the left side of her stomach. For some reason, she had expected it to be gone just like that. She raised her hand to her belly carefully, letting her hand glide over her warm skin until tears threatened her eyes and she quickly removed her hand.
"Were you…?" Arya asked though the question came out strangled. Somehow, with all that had happened, she hadn't noticed the bump before. It was weird to stare at Narcissa. To know that this woman in front of her had seen her mother every day for over a year, that she had married her eldest brother and carried his child, and yet, she was a complete stranger to her. "Did you, I mean, did you…"
Narcissa shook her head softly as she stepped foot into the tub, watching as that water immediately took on a reddish tinge. "Yes." She admitted, lowering herself into her bath. What if she just lowered herself deeper, until her face was underwater and no more air reached her lungs?
Arya hesitated before taking off her clothes just like Narcissa had done but she noticed that the stranger woman had closed her eyes and in any case, she couldn't remember the last time she had taken a proper bath. Besides, she didn't exactly feel threatened by her presence. The water was too hot for her taste but she didn't complain. There were worse things in life and she had just lived through most of them.
Narcissa rubbed her skin vigorously until she had almost scraped away the uppermost layer of her skin and the water had run cold. She stepped out of the tub, splashing the stone floor with water before walking to the drawers to pick out two towels. Arya got up too, gratefully accepting one of the first towels from Narcissa's hands. It was the first time they had touched.
"You're allowed to cry, you know," Narcissa murmured quietly as if any noise at all was too much noise.
"So are you," Arya retorted but there was no hostility in her voice.
"Tomorrow," Narcissa replied with a smile as she got ready for bed, trusting her brother sufficiently that he would inform her as soon as there was an update.
"Tomorrow." Arya agreed with a small nod, putting on a nightgown the other woman set for her on the bed.
Narcissa lied down on Robb's side of the bed, desperate for his smell on the pillow. Tears were on her eyes again as his unique scent filled her nostrils. He smelled like a forest kept in perpetual winter and leather. Gods, how she hated the smell of leather and yet on him, it smelled like home.
"Did my mother suffer, did they drag it out?" Arya wondered softly, tucked beneath the furs.
"No, it was quick." Narcissa replied. "She talked to me about you every single day, always worrying about your safety. Your mother loved you more than you can understand, she would have wanted you to know that."
She wondered if she would ever feel that mother's love for her child, like Catelyn did. That woman set the Kingslayer free on the mere hope it would free her daughters. Narcissa wondered if she wouldn't have done the same thing for the baby she had just lost. Despite her initial hesitation, Narcissa now would have given up her own life for it, in a heartbeat, no hesitation.
Somehow, sleep managed to overcome her at last but her subconscious wasn't kind. There was Robb right in front of her, dressed in thick furs as he stood in the snow, a little girl in his arms. She was tiny, oh so tiny, with bouncy auburn curls and brown eyes, opening her small mouth but only baby giggles came out of it and Robb chuckled at his daughter.
Narcissa woke up after each dream that night, only to fall back asleep and relive that fantasy again and have it ripped out from her heart as soon as she woke up again and again. The fourth or fifth time was differen though, there was a hand on her shoulder and someone was shaking her up.
Narcissa woke up startled, panicking until she recognized brother's green eyes in the dark. He was hovering over with a torch in his hand. "It's Robb." He whispered flatly. It took her a few seconds to realize that this was not part of her dream before ripping the torch away from his hand and bolting out of bed without caring for her soreness.
She ran through the narrow hallway, her long, white nightgown billowy flowing behind her, somehow instinctively knowing the way.
I hope this wasn't too bad! I felt my writing was somewhat off, I'm not used to writing intense scenes like this.
Please let me know what you think! :)
Also, the next chapter will be posted more quickly than this one, I promise!