Roslin I
Roslin led the two other girls down the dimly lit corridor that connected the Great Hall to the rest of The Twins. She tried to project an air of grace and dignity, though her heart raced with apprehension. Throughout her childhood, she had dreamed of a gallant knight coming to rescue her from the confines of her father's control. Yet as she matured, that dream had turned darker, as reality set in that her future husband was more likely to be someone who might be more interested in her as a pawn than as a cherished and loved wife. But now, the possibility of marrying into House Stark felt like being saved by a prince, a glimmer of hope in her uncertain world.
As the heavy oak door of the Great Hall closed behind them, Alyx burst into tears. The younger girl's sobs echoed in the narrow passageway, and Roslin quickly moved to support her, holding her up as she crumpled to the floor.
"What a baby," Walda said dismissively, undoing her bodice and doing it up again tighter in order to push her tits up.
"Leave her be, Walda," Roslin snapped, gently helping Alyx to her feet.
"But Ro, I don't want to marry or be a wife or have children, not yet at least" Alyx managed between sobs, her voice quivering with fear and despair.
At fifteen, Alyx was nearing her sixteenth name day but remained emotionally immature, sheltered for too long by her controlling and overprotective father, Roslin's brother Symond. She was physically ready for marriage but mentally still a child.
"Well, the Starks won't want a child for Lady of Winterfell," Walda said, smoothing her dress with practised nonchalance.
"Well, I've seen many of my sisters and nieces sold and bought under this roof. I'm sure a house as prominent as the Starks will want someone who hasn't lost their maidenhood. From what's been said about you and Black Walder, I think Father has more chance of becoming Lady Stark than you," Roslin retorted, defending the distressed Alyx.
"Girls, stop your bickering. Lord Stark cannot meet you all, so Lady Stark will be making the choice herself. She wants to see you again…now!" Stevron, Roslin's eldest brother, said as he entered from the Great Hall. The girls fell into silence, almost not registering what he had said. "Move" he shouted, holding the door open for the girls.
Walda strode ahead, making sure to push her chest out when she walked, while Roslin took Alyx's trembling hand, guiding her carefully through the hall. The sight of Lady Stark waiting in the centre of the room, her demeanour calm yet commanding, made Roslin's nerves tingle. Her father was nowhere to be seen.
The three girls curtsied deeply before Lady Stark. Roslin held her head high, meeting Catelyn's gaze. The middle-aged woman's eyes softened with a smile as she took in the sight of the girls.
"Hello again," Lady Stark said in a soothing tone. "My son regrets that he cannot be here, preoccupied as he is with his war council. We do not have the luxury of time, so I wish to get to know each of you and ultimately I will decide which of you will wed my son."
She approached Walda first. "Please remind me of your name."
"I am Walda, though many call me Fair Walda. I am the great-granddaughter of Lord Frey through his son Stevron," Walda responded, her voice pitched unnaturally high, clearly an attempt to sound more appealing.
"And what do you enjoy doing in your free time, Lady Walda?" Lady Stark inquired, her gaze steady and unmoved by the girl's attempt to impress.
"I sew and knit, and I enjoy spending time with family and praying to the Seven," Walda said, her smile so forced it seemed almost painful.
Roslin stifled a laugh, well aware that Walda had never picked up a needle in her life and that her supposed piety was as thin as her smile.
Lady Stark nodded politely and moved to Roslin. "And you are, Lady Roslin?"
"Yes Lady Stark, Lord Walder's daughter" Roslin dipped slightly as she spoke into a slight curtsey.
"And what do you do?"
Roslin declared. "I mostly look after the younger children my lady"
"And Roslin dances; she has the most beautiful singing voice, you should hear her sing, she sews; she made my dress, oh and she paints as well" Alyx Frey pronounced, overwhelmed by the excitement that Roslin might be getting married, forgetting that she was in the same position.
Lady Stark chuckled softly, her gaze shifting to the youngest girl, who had sunk into a childlike pose. At that moment, the heavy wooden doors creaked open, and Lord Frey stormed in.
"Alyx Frey!" he bellowed. "Stand up straight, girl!"
The once vibrant Alyx now appeared overwhelmed, her tears flowing freely.
"Grandfather, please, I don't want to marry yet!" she pleaded, her voice trembling.
Lord Frey's face contorted with rage. He raised his hand to strike Alyx, and Lady Stark looked away. Roslin, acting on instinct, intervened, grabbing her father's arm to stop him. He struggled free and slapped Roslin across the face, sending her sprawling to the floor.
"You insignificant bitch!" Lord Frey roared. "I offer you a chance to be the lady of the North, and you repay me like this!"
Roslin remained on the floor, fighting back her own tears, not wanting to anger her father anymore. It wasn't irregular for Roslin to face the wrath of her father. Walder adjusted his shirt before walking around the girl and throwing himself down on his chair.
Lady Stark approached Roslin, offering her a hand with a look of sympathy. "Lord Frey, I have made my decision," she said firmly, locking eyes with Roslin and ignoring the frail lord. "On behalf of my son, Robb Stark, will you, Roslin of House Frey, give your hand in marriage?"
Roslin, shocked by the situation, timidly replied "If you think that Lord Stark will have me"
Lord Frey's smile widened. "We expect you in the Sept in one hour." He said to Catelyn, before turning to his daughter and stroking gently the red mark that had appeared on her face "Find a suitable dress; we want the young lord pleased with his mother's choice."
Catelyn curtseyed deeply, and as Roslin was hurriedly escorted out by her brother Stevron, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of disbelief and relief.
In the courtyard, Roslin ran after her brother. "Perwyn!"
"Ro! I heard about your marriage. You're finally escaping this place, to somewhere where you'll be treated as you deserve," Perwyn said, taking her in a warm embrace.
"We can escape together. Father has offered to send a small company with the Stark army. If you befriend Lord Stark, you might convince him to let you stay at Winterfell," Roslin suggested her face a mix of hope and concern.
"Oh, Ro, you don't have to worry. I'll be glad to get away from here for as long as the Stark campaign lasts," he said, a worried smile touching his lips.
"I have one more request. Will you give me away?" Roslin asked.
With so many Freys, it was difficult to be close to all of them. Perwyn had always been her protector, and she wanted him by her side.
"I would love to," Perwyn said, pulling her into another hug. "And I have a wedding gift for you."
He led her up to a storage room in one of the towers. "Close your eyes," he instructed. Roslin obeyed, listening to the opening of chests before he said, "Okay, open them."
Roslin opened her eyes to find Perwyn holding a delicate white dress, it was adorned with lace sleeves and a lace-patterned bodice and skirt.
"Is that Mother's—" she began.
"Yes, her wedding dress," Perwyn confirmed. "I found it after she died when Father sent her belongings up here. I had hoped to give it to you when you were betrothed, but I'll admit this is sooner than I expected."
She embraced her brother, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you. To think I'll no longer be a Frey by sunset tonight."
"We must hurry then," Perwyn said, his voice urgent as he led her back down the stairs.
"Why the rush, Perwyn? Slow down!" Roslin called out, laughing as they went.
"Come on! The girls will want to see you before the ceremony," he replied, dashing toward the east wing.
Roslin decided to leave the dress in her room for now. When she entered, she found her youngest sister, Arwyn, waiting. The room was lined with 10 thin beds that once had been filled by the many daughters of House Frey but as the girls had married the room had grown empty until the only people left in it were Tyta and Roslin, whilst the younger girls occupied the next 2 rooms along the wing.
"Ro! Alyx just told us. Congratulations!" Arwyn exclaimed.
"Thank you, Arwyn," Roslin said, her heart swelling with emotion.
"Was that your Mother's dress?" Arwyn asked.
Roslin just nodded, as she ran her hands down the lace sleeves, imaging what her mother had looked like wearing it. Her mother had died just a few months after Roslin had been born, she had only known her mother through stories told by Perwyn and her other brothers.
"Come on, Ro! Get changed. I want to do your hair," Arwyn said, her excitement palpable.
Roslin looked at the dress, feeling unworthy of wearing it. "I'll help you," Tyta offered, stepping into the room. Her look of joy dimmed when she saw Roslin's anxiety.
Tyta, though only thirteen years older than Roslin, had been a motherly figure throughout her life. Most of Roslin's other sisters had left young to marry various lords across Westeros. She was grateful that Tyta would be coming with her North, but knew that one day she too would be married and would have to leave her as well.
The girls continued in silence and Roslin slipped into the dress, the atmosphere around the sisters was filled with care, they didn't have to speak to show how much they loved each other. The silence was broken as various young girls burst into the room, some armed with hairbrushes, others with powder, each ready to gently attack the bride.
"You look so pretty, Ro," Marissa said, brushing her hair.
"After what I did to Father, I thought Lady Stark would choose Walda," Roslin said, her voice heavy with regret.
"Walda is a brat, it's not hard to see, one day she will have a bastard and father will cast her out as a disappointment," Tyta said from her bed, she had begun to gather her things and for a moment Roslin was confused before realising that Tyta was packing.
"Tyta, could you also pack my belongings? I won't be returning here tonight, and I'm unsure how quickly we'll leave tomorrow."
Tyta nodded with a reassuring smile. She moved to the shared wardrobe and began to carefully select Roslin's dresses, folding them into neat piles. "I'll set aside your finest nightgown for the room Father has prepared for you and Lord Stark. I'll pack the rest" Tyta said, her smile warm and steady as she continued her task.
As Tyta worked, Arwyn stepped in and started to braid the top half of Roslin's hair into a neat bun, letting the rest cascade down her back. After finishing with Roslin, the girls quickly got dressed into a variety of old formal dresses, likely saved from the last Frey wedding, before leaving and going to the Sept, leaving Roslin alone.
The door creaked open, revealing Perwyn standing in the doorway. He had changed into a crisp white shirt and a grey overcoat, having shaved the patchy remnants of his beard—something that might have made Roslin laugh under different circumstances. In his hands, he held a grey cloak adorned with the emblem of The Twins, a piece of heirloom fabric, it had been made by her father's first bride Perra and had been resewn every 10 years or so and now resembled a tatty blanket.
"It's time, Ro," Perwyn said softly, extending his arm.
Roslin turned to face him, and he draped the heavy cloak over her shoulders, it had such a weight that Roslin had to fight twice as hard to maintain her posture under it. They began their walk down the corridor, each step feeling heavier than the last. Roslin's grip on her brother's arm tightened as they approached the Sept's imposing doors.
"Perwyn, I don't think I can do this," Roslin admitted, her voice trembling with anxiety.
"You must," Perwyn replied gently. "For Father, for the house, and for yourself. I will always be with you." He paused before continuing "She is always with you." His tone was comforting, yet firm.
He reached into his pocket, withdrawing a silver shield necklace with the emblem of House Rosby - the house of their mother. Carefully, he placed it around Roslin's neck. "She loved you so much. She would have been so proud," Perwyn said, his own eyes misting with tears.
Roslin took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the large wooden doors ahead.
"Ready?" Perwyn asked softly.
"Ready," Roslin responded.