Chapter One: A Deal is Struck
Seventeen Years Ago
298 AC
The years had not made the slightest difference to the Twins, Catelyn thought, as she rode across the bridge with her Frey escorts.
She was five years old the first time she visited the keep with her family. It was Lord Frey's fifth wedding to one of her mother's cousins, and she remembered listening to her parents quarreling over whether the wedding warranted a visit to the Twins. Her mother ultimately won and as Catelyn climbed in her carriage for the journey, her uncle the Blackfish bid her goodbye by warning her, in jest, to beware of the ghosts of the Twins.
She remembered her mother chiding her uncle for scaring Catelyn so and how she made sure to convince young Cat throughout the entire journey that there was no such thing as ghosts.
But when she finally saw those ugly, formidable towers, her faith in her uncle's warnings was restored. The two towering castles emerged from the rain, like ghosts. Hazy grey apparitions that grew more solid the closer they rode. Each night she stayed there, she slept beside her mother, and made her sing to her until she fell asleep. Her uncle was right. The Twins were haunted, inside and out.
And much to her dismay, as Catelyn rode towards the eastern castle for the second time in her life, her childhood fears remained intact.
She thanked the gods for giving her the sense to prevent Robb from coming here with her. At least for now.
"Lady Stark, welcome to the Eastern Castle of the Twins. Our Lord is expecting you in the great hall." Ser Rodrik followed right behind Catelyn and looked at everyone with wary eyes.
So many Freys everywhere. Not a single crevice of the castle was devoid of people, lining from the hallway till the great hall. All dressed in greys, greens and browns, ultimately fading into one single colour that reminded Catelyn of mud trampled on by horses. It was clear that they were expecting Robb and all of his bannermen. As she entered the hall, she found herself looking at someone who was surprisingly not Walder Frey.
"My Lady Stark, you are a sight for sore eyes in these trying times. Time has certainly not dulled your beauty." Said one of Walder Frey's sons in the most unexpected courteous manner.
"You are too kind, my lord." Catelyn held in a breath of relief at not finding Lord Walder Frey greeting her. Everyone knew that Lord Walder had lived way past his prime, for at least ten years now. But a part of her could not believe their luck to be so great to actually find him replaced by his heir. "May I enquire of Lord Walder Frey? Is he unwell?"
"No I am bloody well not!" And there went that breath of relief, at the screeching voice of the infamous Walder Frey.
"What do you think you are doing, boy?! Get off my chair!" The 'boy' with hair grayer than Catelyn's father scrammed to one of the sides designated for Lord Frey's sons, grandsons and great-grandsons.
"But father, you were indisp—"
"Shut up, you milksop!" Lord Walder entered, along with his quivering bride who was not much older than Sansa, and seated himself.
Catelyn knew if she did not make her presence known soon, this…bickering would go on forever. "It is a great pleasure to see you again after so many years, my lord."
Lord Walder turned his disgruntled gaze towards her at last. "Oh, spare me. Your boy's too proud to come before me himself. What am I supposed to do with you?" He asked dismissively, as if Catelyn's presence were an annoyance, rather than the kind of opportunity she knew someone like Walder Frey could smell from miles away.
"Father, you forget yourself. Lady Stark is here–"
"Who asked you, Stevron? You're not Lord Frey yet, not until I die. Do I look dead to you?!"
Lord Frey gestured for Catelyn to step closer to the dais and kissed her hand while remaining seated. "There, now that I have observed the courtesies, perhaps my son will do me the honour of shutting his mouth."
Catelyn looked at Ser Rodrik waiting at the entrance, who nodded back at her and stepped outside. "Is there somewhere we can talk?" She asked Lord Frey, hoping he would understand her intent.
"We're talking right now." He remarked, raising his brow. "Fine. Out! All of you! You too, my sweet." Lord Walder said to his child bride as he swatted her backside on her way out.
He watched her leave with his lecherous eyes while speaking to Catelyn. "You see that? Fifteen, she is. A little flower. And her honey's all mine."
"I'm sure she will give you many sons." Catelyn replied in the way a lady was trained to by her septas, despite of what she truly felt about the person or the situation in front of her. And at this moment, Catelyn was feeling what every woman around Walder Frey always felt; revolted.
"Your father didn't come to the wedding."
"He is quite ill, my lord."
"Huh. Didn't come to the last one, either. Or the one before that. Your family has always pissed on me."
"My lord, I…"
"Don't deny it. You know it's true. The fine Lord Tully would never marry any of his children to mine. Why are you here?"
"To ask you…to open your gates, my lord…so my son and his bannermen may cross the Trident and be on their way."
"And why should I let him?" She would not make it so easy for him. He had to know the position he was in.
"If you could climb your own battlements, you would see that he has men outside your walls." This was not the time for Catelyn to be flowery with her words. She had to make Walder Frey understand that Robb Stark was not to be taken lightly.
"Hmph. They'll be corpses when Tywin Lannister gets here. Don't try to frighten me, Lady Stark. Your husband's in a cell beneath the Red Keep and your son's got no fur to keep his balls warm."
She struggled to not appear affronted. Catelyn could not remember anyone ever having spoken to her in this way. From when she was a Tully, till when she became a Stark, Lady Catelyn had always been treated with the utmost regard and respect. She was entitled to it.
But she was beginning to understand that the world that existed now was no longer the one that Ned had built. Or perhaps having been his wife for so long had blinded her to the fact that the world had always been this way – the one that belonged to men like Walder Frey.
For Ned's and her daughters' sakes she forced herself to remain calm. "You swore an oath to my father."
"Oh, yes. I said some words. And I swore oaths to the crown too, if I remember right. Joffrey's king now, which makes your boy and his corpses-to-be nothing but rebels, it seems to me. If I had the sense the gods gave a fish, I'd hand you both over to the Lannisters."
"Why don't you?" Catelyn asked, already dreading what was to come. The ghosts of the Twins her uncle had once warned her about would be leaving with her today, and perhaps haunt her forever.
"Stark, Tully, Lannister, Baratheon. Give me one good reason why I should waste a single thought on any of you?"
"I'll take you dreaming, through the rainy night
To a place behind the raindrops
Where the stars are bright
You will find no gold or silver
But a richer prize
Waits for you behi…"
I gasped as I woke up to a harsh knock on our door and then subsequent knocks on the doors along the hallway. This was unusual.
"What the fuck is going on?" Amerei whined as she buried her head inside her pillow.
"Ami it's morning, could you not? Shirei's in the room." I heard Walda say as she was already up and bustling about the room.
I, in the meanwhile, was still trying to catch hold of the voice that had been singing to me in my dream. But before I could, my sheets were rudely ripped away from me.
"Good morning!" Walda's bright voice cheered in my ears as she pushed me to sit up.
"Do you know what is happening? I can still hear knocking everywhere all at once. Is the castle on fire? Please tell me it's on fire."
She gave me an exasperated look to make me desist, as if she were older than me by several years rather than the few months she actually was. Also, I was technically her aunt.
"I don't know yet Ayana, but we have been instructed to dress ourselves within the next hour and get to the great hall. Joyce will be coming with news soon. In the meantime, get yourself washed and ready so we can get to the young ones."
"Ugh, why do we have to do everything?" I thought aloud as I sifted through my cupboard to pick something decent to wear. Green, grey or brown, I mused. From the hustle and bustle this morning, I could tell someone important was on their way to our abode.
"You know why."
Yes, I knew exactly why. Because we didn't have anyone who would fight for us not to. That was one of the many reasons why Walda and I got along so well.
I readied myself as fast as I could and then went to the last bed in our room that belonged to my youngest sister Shirei. Since her mother's passing three years ago, she had one day decided that she would only cling to me and so I became her unwitting carer.
"Shirei, get up, we have to get you ready." And to that she gave me the widest grin I had ever seen and launched herself at me, forcing me to settle her on my hips.
"Shirei, we don't have time right now. We can play later."
"Promise?"
"Hmm."
After taking care of ourselves and Shirei, we somehow managed to push Ami to do the same, which proved to be more difficult than Shirei as she was not a hungover sixteen-year old.
Walda and I left the room to check on all our younger sisters and nieces and were escorting them to the great hall, when we bumped into Joyce, my elder sister Derwa's handmaid.
"What are you both still doing here?" Joyce asked, clearly annoyed with our tardiness.
"We were getting all the young ones to the hall. What is going on, Joyce?" I asked as we hurried down the stairs.
"The Starks from the north are supposedly on their way to Riverrun and need passage across the bridge. Your lord father wants all the girls ready to be presented."
"Presented?"
"The Hand's son is leading the men, Robb Stark of Winterfell. Of course your father would never miss the opportunity to barter one of you lot in exchange for their passage."
"Is that right, you wretch?" I instantly became breathless at the sound of Black Walder's voice from behind us.
Joyce's face drained of all colour. "My Lord! Apologies I…"
"There is no need. You will be flogged appropriately at a later time. Take Fat Walda with you and join the others. I'll escort this one myself." He sneered at both Joyce and Walda and waited for them to leave. I kept my eyes low, hoping he would forget about me. But his words to Joyce made it clear that he hadn't. He turned to me once they left.
"Shall we, my dear aunt?" He always referred to me in this manner, despite being over twice my age. Though he wasn't wrong. He was the great-grandson of my father.
And he absolutely terrified me.
I walked beside him, trying to stay as far away from him as possible. He smelled of seaweed, leather and old sweat, a smell common to the Western Castle of the Twins, as most of the unmarried Frey men resided there.
He reveled in making me uncomfortable. I could already feel his hand inching from my upper back towards a place it should never be.
"You have certainly grown, Ayana. You resemble your mother more and more every day. Although, I remember her being much slender. Fat Walda is clearly influencing your eating-habits. Might want to watch that if you want for good prospects. Not that you'll have many, considering your…status. But, you never know. You are shaping up to be better looking than half of our lot."
"Thank you, m-my lord."
He stopped us right before we entered the hall and pushed me against the wall. I wanted to scream just like I had practiced in my head a hundred times over, whenever I had nightmares about this very scenario.
Instead, I closed my eyes and begged for someone else to come our way and save me.
"Look at you, all shivery. Your hair's out of place, that's all." He murmured as he pushed back the unruly strands behind my ear. He then began to finger my pendant that was peeking out of my dress just when–
"Ayana?" Thank the gods for Tyta!
Black Walder immediately stepped away from me and stalked off in the direction of the dais as Tyta approached me.
"You alright, my bird? Did he do anything?"
"No, I'm fine. Just shaken up is all." This was not the time to release the waterworks, I reminded myself. It would only make things worse, attracting further unwanted attention and mockery.
"Let us go and find somewhere to squeeze ourselves into where nobody can see us, yeah?" Whenever Tyta spoke, she did so in a wispy voice, almost inaudible. Spinster Frey, they called her, as she remained unwed at twenty-eight years of age. She told me how she never married anyone because this is where she was meant to live and die. Not that she had many prospects to begin with. Her looks weren't what made most turn away from her, but rather her peculiar seeming habits. Habits that some might want her to be burnt alive at the stake for.
"I made more of that arrowroot powder, if you need some." She whispered in my ear. Just what I needed, a reminder that indeed I was not slender like my mother. I used to be a gangly thing until I flowered and suddenly my thighs thickened, my hips widened and my chest expanded. From that day onward, everyone mocked me by saying how I finally came into my Dornish nature. My sisters constantly reminded me of my unworthy looks, mocking me for my shape, my colour, my hair and whatever else. On the other hand, my brothers, uncles and nephews reminded me, how I reminded them of what they considered Dornish women to be – whores.
Tyta and I couldn't even enter the great hall, but that was fine by us. We stood right at the end of the hallway that led up to the entrance and awaited the Stark boy and his entourage.
But the boy never showed. Nor his men. A woman was escorted instead, with faded auburn hair, and an upright gait. I could barely see her, but from what I could see, she was the most refined looking lady I had ever laid eyes on.
She looked like a queen.
"It's Lady Catelyn Stark, the Lord of Riverrun's daughter and the Hand's wife." Tyta whispered in my ear. For someone who kept to herself as much as her, she sure knew a lot about everyone.
"Why has she come by herself? Shouldn't Robb Stark be the one to meet with father?" She shrugged in response. I supposed it was a good thing. Our father would have eaten the boy alive.
As Lady Stark approached the dais, everyone became settled. That is until our father's screech let us know that he was not the one currently seated on the dais. We could hear him yell at Stevron for taking father's place in his absence. After that, apart from father's yelling, we couldn't hear much. I tried squeezing between people to push myself ahead in order to hear what was going on, when Lord Frey's voice surged.
"Out! All of you!"
There was only one place so many of us could move to all at once and that was the dining hall. Good thing too, since most of us hadn't even eaten before we were asked to be 'presented'.
I found Shirei and Walda seated at one of the tables and sat next to them. Thankfully, someone had had the sense to inform the kitchens to serve some bread, fruit and wine until father relieved us.
"What do you think they're discussing right now 'yana?" Walda asked as she took four slices of bread onto her plate. I looked at mine and kept the two I had taken back in the serving basket and took a piece of fruit instead, a small one.
Before I could say anything, my sisters jumped at the opportunity to regale us with information.
"The Stark boy wants to cross the bridge and he has to pay the toll. He sent his mother on his behalf to negotiate most likely."
"Hmm. I heard there's going to be a battle against the Lannisters and the Stark boy is leading his men to fight them because they arrested his father."
"Riverrun is being besieged at this very moment. Perhaps he wants to go relieve his grandfather's keep from Jaime Lannister."
"Definitely."
"I heard he looks like a Tully. Handsome too, I bet. Do you think we'll get to see him? Father might ask him to marry one of us as part of the negotiation."
I tried to tune out the voices of my loud sisters when I saw Shirei tearing up her bread into little pieces. "Shirei stop playing with the bread. Eat it."
"And why should she listen to you, Ayana? She's not your sister." Ah, and here I was hoping Arwyn was seated far, far away from me.
"Well if she didn't, she would go hungry. You could tell her yourself if you want to, but no one likes to listen to your dull voice, Arwyn."
"You bitch."
"Arwyn, do not stoop to her level, I have told you countless times." Derwa asserted in her usual fake-aristocratic lilt.
Most would think that it was Arwyn that I couldn't get along with. We fought frequently enough. But it was Derwa who hated me the most. She despised me so much that she never even spoke to me directly. As if talking to me would taint her. And I never crossed that line with her either. Somehow I knew that if I ever dared to talk to her, she would break me.
I heard loud voices lower to gentle murmurs and knew father had made his entrance. He passed by our table and managed to look at each one of us.
"Where is my wine?!" He bellowed at the serving maids while moving to stand behind the main table on the dining hall dais.
"I have an announcement to make so you lot, shut your traps. Today, Lady Catelyn Stark came on behalf of her boy to demand passage through our bridge. I gave her my consent in exchange for several things."
"First; half of my men will leave with the Starks tonight as part of his army." A resounding collective groan could be heard throughout the hall. We Freys were known for a lot of things, indolence being one of them.
"Stop your moaning! Ryman and Black Walder will lead the Frey men and they will let you know who is to join." I inwardly sighed with relief at hearing this, just as Walda gave me an assuring look.
"Second; Olyvar, arise! You will be Robb Stark's personal squire. The only way you might ever manage to get a knighthood by your damned self." Olyvar was one of the only few brothers I could actually get along with and him leaving saddened me a little. But since most of them were leaving with him, I couldn't complain much.
"Third; my son Waldron will marry his sister Arya when they both come of age."
"And lastly, the Stark boy will marry one of my daughters, or any one of my granddaughters named Frey–"
Our tables had gone quiet as soon as father made the last, and definitely the most important announcement of the day. It was no secret that every Frey girl wanted to leave this place for a better one. Sister would betray sister for good prospects in a heartbeat. And when one lived in a place like this, surrounded by weaselly looking men; where lines of kin blurred and uncles groped their nieces, and grand-nephews were twice the age of their aunts, testing familial norms on a daily basis; one had no choice but to stomp over whoever and whatever would stand in their way to freedom.
"–once the war is over."
And suddenly the quiet gave way to loud chatter. I could already anticipate the wagers that would take place amongst the menfolk, the women and even the servants of the household, about which Frey girl would get to marry the eligible son of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Tully. But there were saddened sighs to be heard as well, since this war that we kept hearing about had not even begun. A wedding could not be more faraway.
"Father, I have a question."
"What?" Father cried out, as if daring the person to raise their voice again.
"Why can't Robb Stark marry one of us right away, father?" Derwa asked him with the amount of confidence that gobsmacked everyone. How she believed she could get away with anything impressed me, to my utter dismay.
Father raised a brow, but his response finally revealed how gleeful he truly was. He guffawed at Derwa's question, embarrassing her. I couldn't help but snort at that.
"My dear, he has a war to fight ahead. Battles to win and glory to earn. What use does he have for a wife yet? Regardless, if one of you married him right now, and he lost this war, Tywin Lannister would burn our house to the ground."
Everything became silent once more.
"But, let us not talk about dreary subjects. Today, we celebrate. Let us open the casks of Dornish red, send off our men in good spirits and pray to the Seven that we emerge prosperous, no matter who wins!"
The hall burst with a deafening cheer.
It was past evening by the time the so-called celebration ended and the men were getting ready to leave with the Stark bannermen. Most had left for the western castle where they would assemble and join the Starks. I was tucking in Shirei when Walda burst in the room.
"We need to go the balcony."
"What, why?"
"They're crossing. Everyone's trying to get a look at Robb Stark. Come on, Ayana!"
Walda ran towards the balcony, taking me with her by my arm. Honestly, this was the first time I had ever seen her move at such speed. Once we reached the already cramped balcony, Walda tried to push my sisters out of the way to make some space for the both of us. I tried to remain behind as to not fall to my death. My sisters were almost hanging off the railing as is. I tried to see as much as I could from where I stood, but the dark and the rain made it impossible to discern anything.
Then all of a sudden I could see and hear a massive horde of men and horses. The bridge was so full of people that it looked as if men were riding on water. "Gods, that is a lot of people. How are we supposed to make him out of the thousands?"
"Well he would be the one riding at the front." Walda remarked, her tone suggesting the obviousness of it.
Suddenly my sisters started pointing fingers at the front lines of the army. "I see him! I see him!"
I couldn't. And at this point I had lost interest. It was too cold and wet to be standing outside to get a glimpse of someone who definitely did not find us glimpse-worthy in the same way. Also, the ruckus was becoming a bit embarrassing. I turned around and left as another occupied my space. I heard someone yell 'wolf' but I had walked too far off to care. All I cared for now was the relief that I felt, because for the first time the Twins would not be so overcrowded and teeming with lechers. And hopefully, for a long time.
"May I enter, my lord?" Black Walder announced himself, as he saw his grandfather almost being pushed to tears by Lord Frey.
"What do you want? I thought you would have left by now."
"I was just about to, but I wanted to discuss something before I did." He pointedly looked at his grandfather. "In private."
"Go on then. Stevron, get lost." Stevron shuffled himself quickly out of the room, possibly to find a room to have a good cry in.
Lord Frey sat behind his desk and reassumed his posture of authority. This room was rarely used by him as all of his spare time was spent in his bedchambers attached to this room. But times were changing and he was becoming relevant. He needed to look the part.
"You are quite possibly one of the few kinsmen I have that doesn't have shit for brains, but don't ever presume to think you hold any sway over me, boy."
"I would never. You are my great-grandfather and I have always the best intentions for our house." In that, Black Walder was honest. But he often confused his house with himself.
"So, what do you want?"
Lord Frey might be ancient, but he was sharp still. Black Walder needed to be careful with his words so as to sound so blatantly persuasive, Lord Frey would find him transparent in his machinations. Walder Frey liked to pride himself on reading people, and if he could read them, he could trust them and underestimate them. It was just a matter of showing Walder Frey what he wanted to see while hiding one's true intent. Black Walder knew this extremely well. "I think you need to start preparing the girls, for what is to come."
"And what is that?"
Black Walder decided that a bit of theatrics was needed and walked closer to Lord Frey and murmured. "My lord, this might be the time we finally ascend to our rightful place. The Starks might just be successful in overthrowing the Lannisters." He paused for effect and stared into Lord Frey's eyes. "And if that came true, a Frey girl could end up as a queen."
"Go on."
Black Walder started walking towards the opposite side of the desk and talked as if he were sharing his current inner thoughts. The speech was quite rehearsed in actuality. "Whoever the girl may be, she must know that her duty, her loyalty and obedience lie foremost with us. She would need to do whatever it took to ensure the furtherance of our house. Not the Starks or the Tullys, us."
"This all sounds good Walder, but pray tell me, how am I supposed to know who the Stark whelp would actually choose to marry?" He asked, in an exaggerated disinterested voice, when in reality, he was genuinely on the verge of being impressed.
"I am sure you can narrow down the most desirable options the boy would actually go for. The girls you think best suitable, should be educated formally, to be the best representations of our house. We cannot have more Frey women sully our reputation by being inept and insipid, especially now, when she could have such an influence."
"What makes you think a woman could even manage to sway her husband? The Stark might be a boy, but someone capable of leading a host of men to war could never be strung along by his wife." Lord Frey explained to him as if he were a tutor and Black Walder his student. He knew Lord Frey was proud of him for his suggestions, but he would never show it. As long as Lord Frey thought himself smarter, Black Walder could never appear as a threat.
"Regardless, the girl he does end up choosing must serve us first. This I must urge you to ensure. In the meantime, I will try my best to get close to Stark myself, try to have his ear. He is just a boy after all."
"Be careful though. This is war and he won't be a boy forever."
Author's Note: The lullaby in this chapter was taken from the film The Court Jester (1955), performed by Danny Kaye. Thank you so much to everyone who read this, left a review, favourited and followed my fic!