Warning, some violence.

Chapter 3

Silent tears

"You are a Lannister, no expense will be spared for your wedding. It will be the greatest feast the north has ever seen."

Minea remembered her father's words as she sat at the long table next to her husband. The hall was full of people and there was plenty of food, wine and ale, but this seemed more like a funeral than wedding. Her father had paid everything and he had even sent musicians, jugglers and fire breathers from King's Landing.

Minea was aware that he hadn't done it for her; he had simply wanted to demonstrate the wealth of the Lannisters. Like the Starks wouldn't have hated them enough already. Lord Robb hadn't spoken a word to her after the wedding ceremony; he had barely even looked at her. Some people were talking, but there was no joy or laughter. The northern lords had rigidly congratulated her, but she guessed that they had fantasized about cutting her throat. The only friendly face she had seen was Tyrion's.

"More wine," her husband demanded.

Minea had noticed that he had drunk a lot already. That made her very nervous; she was afraid what would happen when they would be alone. She hadn't expected gentleness, but she had hoped that he wouldn't be violent either. The first time would hurt, she knew that and it scared her. She stared at her plate, she had no appetite.

Finally she dared to look up and noticed Lady Catelyn staring at her. They had met briefly and Lady Catelyn had made it quite clear what she thought of her son's new wife. Minea tried her best to smile at her, but Lady Catelyn turned her head away and said something to the lord sitting next to her. Lord Bran and Lord Rickon had been here earlier, but they had already retired. Minea hadn't had a chance to speak with either of them. But the person she hoped to speak with the most was her husband. She swallowed and decided to at least try.

"Pardon me, my lord…"

"Friends!" one of the lords announced before she could finish her sentence. Clearly this lord was drunk and the look in his eyes was everything but friendly. "I say it's time for the bedding!"

Minea froze, she had forgotten all about the unpleasant tradition. Quickly she looked at her husband, praying that he would forbid it. He didn't, he was concentrated on his wine goblet. She yelped in pain as she was roughly lifted up by several drunken men.

"Lord Robb…" she heard Tyrion protesting before the men carried her out of the hall. They were groping her so roughly that her body would no doubt be full of bruises tomorrow. The terror had paralyzed her, but she cried out when they started to tear her clothes off.

"Lannister whore," someone hissed.

"Have you fucked your brothers like your sister? Is that how you Lannisters like it?"

"Has the imp fucked you?"

"I think he has and I bet the little whore loved it."

"Minea!" Tyrion's voice shouted. "Stop that!"

"Oh look, the imp is mad," one of the men chuckled. "I think he wants his whore back."

Minea was struggling to hold back her tears; the men had ripped all her clothes off now. She couldn't hear Tyrion's voice anymore as she was carried to the bed chamber. Her back collided with something soft; she had just been thrown on the bed. Desperately she tried to cover had naked body with her arms.

"You are not fooling anyone," one of the men snorted. "Filthy little whore…"

"That's enough!" a male voice commanded. "Everyone out!"

Minea's heart was pounding like a drum and she was shaking, still holding back her tears.

"It's alright," the same male voice said. "Here."

She flinched as something touched her skin.

"It's alright."

Finally she recognized the man. Lord Jon. He had just put a blanket over her. She didn't have time to thank him or say anything else when he walked out. Her husband entered the bed chamber soon after that. He hadn't been carried here or been stripped of his clothes, he was fully clothed and he had a wine bottle in his hand.

Neither of them spoke, he emptied the bottle with few long gulps. Then he walked over to the bed and finally looked at her. It wasn't difficult to see how drunk he was. She was still shaking, but she didn't dare to protest when he took a hold of the blanket and lifted it. To her shock, he put it over her face. Her first thought was that he was going to suffocate her.

"My lord, please…"

"Quiet," he snapped. "Do not speak."

She was about to panic as the bed squeaked under his weight.

"Talisa…" he murmured.

She flinched as his fingers touched her chest. His touch was gentle, loving. In his mind he was touching someone else. Talisa. Minea's eyes were watering up, she couldn't help it. She was more than grateful that he couldn't see her face. His hands fondled her breasts and caressed her stomach. She flinched again as she suddenly felt his mouth kissing her neck.

He traced kisses down her chest and closed his lips around her breast. She bit her lip in order to stop herself from making any sounds. It seemed that he wasn't going to hurt her as long as she would stay quiet and wouldn't move. He wouldn't hurt Talisa. A gasp escaped from Minea's lips as he sucked and nipped her breasts.

"My love…" he murmured, sliding his hand down her side. His fingers caressed her inner thigh before he gently pushed her legs open. A part of her wanted to push his hand away, but she didn't. This was his right and her duty. She cried silently under the blanket as he touched her most private place. It didn't hurt, not before he slid a finger inside her, but she felt like a cheap whore. This was her wedding night and her husband was so repulsed by her that he couldn't even bear to see her face.

She barely managed to muffle a cry of pain as he thrust into her. It really hurt. She bit her bottom lip so hard that she tasted the blood in her mouth. Somehow she managed to hold still as he kept thrusting into her again and again, repeating Talisa's name. Finally he was finished, but unfortunately he passed out and collapsed on top of her. He was heavy; she had to struggle to push him off her.

With shaky hands she lifted the blanket. Tears were coursing down her cheeks, her whole body was hurting. She curled up into a fetal position and rocked herself calmingly. Everything would be alright. Everything would be alright. Everything would be… no, it wouldn't. This was her life now; she had no choice but to accept it. She needed to be strong. She needed to believe that there would be something more than suffering for her here.