Chapter Text
"Honoured guests" With the words bread and salt were passed around, ensuring guest rights, an ancient custom that comforted many still today. The northern men did not trust Lord Walder, not even a little, but the assurance of hospitality and guest right was a tradition, and they partook, even though they did nothing to quell Robb's suspicions. Only a heathen would break guest rights, and Robb did not doubt Lord Walder to be capable of that. Still, they ate the bread and salt, washed it down with mead and wine, and the tension in the room did dull a little, though Robb remained stiff and alert. He felt as strung as an arrow in a bow. Still, he managed a little smile, he couldn't tip his hand, not yet.
Robb wasn't sure what was to come, he didn't know how the planned betrayal would play out, but he did know to be on his guard. Greywind stood at his side, and he wore chainmail under his clothes, it was hot and uncomfortable but necessary. Guards stood close to his mother, ready to shield her at the first sign of danger. Roose stood on his right-hand side, for he needed to keep the man close. They were ready, they were prepared, now they just had to wait.
"I offer you my protection under the light of the seven" Robb resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that, the man even worshipped the wrong gods. He managed a respectful nod before he spoke in return.
"We thank you my Lord" He said with another nod, and as he heard the back door open, he turned to look over his shoulder. Five girls entered the room and he felt an odd squeeze in his stomach, the time had come to meet his bride it seemed. In truth he had expected the betrayal to be instant but no, clearly Lord Walder was playing the long game, well Robb could too. He would marry within the hour, but to be just meeting his bride now? Even though it were a common occurrence it felt a little wrong. He knew his parents had met the same way and found love and happiness; he could perhaps hope for the same.
For a moment then his mind drifted to Sansa and he felt a pang of sadness for her. They had received word on the road that Sansa was to be married to Lord Willas Tyrell of Highgarden. When the letter had come Robb had wanted to turn around and march on the Capitol instantly. He knew little of the Tyrell's, just that they were rumoured to be ambitious and had jumped into bed with the Lannister's. That was enough for him to mistrust and dislike them and he had wanted nothing more than to rescue his little sister from their clutches.
Only his mother had calmed him enough for him to see straight. She wanted Sansa back just as much as he did, and she reassured him over and over; Sansa was a key hostage and being with the Tyrell's had to at least be better than being stuck with the Lannister's. And so, Robb had reluctantly continued on the path to the Twins, through the Riverland's, though it felt wrong, to leave his sister behind, surrounded by thorns. He had only felt worse the further away from Kings Landing.
Rumour had it she was to be married any day now and he wouldn't be there, no Stark would. His mother had sobbed nightly since hearing the news and he knew why. What mother wanted to miss their daughter's wedding? He felt sad himself, with father gone he should have been the one to give her away, to ensure her husband would treat her well, to hand her over to her new protector and remove her cloak. But no, his little sister would be married without family, all alone, he had cried himself that night too.
But now there was little he could do. He had to take back Winterfell, let his men rest for a short time and then call the banners once again. He had to fortify the North and make further alliances. He knew he didn't have enough men, and so he would need to find some. With a rest his men would be able to gather more, there were many men left behind as he had called the banners hastily when his father had been imprisoned, but he would still need more.
Stannis had refused his help, refusing northern independence. Dorne remained neutral, the Tyrell's had now joined the Lannister's. He planned once Winterfell was retaken to write to his Aunt Lysa in the Vale, perhaps send his Mother there to party with her. The knights of the Vale would be a huge boost to his campaign. And so, he had plans, but first he had to marry.
"Let me introduce my daughter Roslin Frey" Walder nodded, and the girls parted to push forward the shortest and slightest of the girls, who stumbled forward with her head down, only raising her gaze as her father glared at her. "She is to be your bride your Grace"
Robb was surprised to say the least. People had told him of Roslin's beauty, but he had been reluctant to believe them, and yet here she was. She still looked young, perhaps a year or two younger than him, and she was a little fragile but she was truly a beauty. He smiled at her as she stepped forward and she offered a tentative smile in return before running back to her sisters. They giggled under their father sent them a sharp look, at that they were silenced. Robb in truth felt a little better for meeting his bride-to-be.
Regardless of what betrayal was carried out here Robb did not plan to set aside Roslin, he would not disrespect her in such a way. He had some vague plan of taking the Twin's in her name and awarding them to someone loyal, perhaps even her brother Olyvar. He wasn't sure yet, but he would not set her aside. As well, when they did defend from the betrayal, he had no plans to harm any of the women and children, they would be spared. Robb would never be the kind of man to slaughter innocents, he would not allow that whilst he was King.
"You shall marry within the hour, if that is agreeable your Grace?" Lord Walder asked with a somewhat smarmy smile, oh yes, he definitely had something planned. Robb only smiled back and nodded, for he would defeat that plan, of that he was sure. He would not be arrogant for he did not know what was to come but he would foil it, of that he was sure.
"My son will show you to your rooms as the room is prepared" He spoke again, and Robb nodded once more.
"Of course, my Lord" Robb said and followed a younger boy who looked worried as he ushered them forward. Robb knew something was coming and he felt comforted as Greywind followed alongside him, a steady comforting presence. Robb caught just one last look at his bride before the doors to the main hall closed.
He followed the Frey boy to his rooms and once inside he took a moment to breath. They were ready, they were prepared, now all they had to do was wait.
Her eyes followed the path upward to the Great Sept and she let out a small sigh. It was beautiful, bathed in sunlight, thousands of smallfolk stood outside, the line of Tyrell soldiers holding them back. She knew Willas was inside waiting for her and for a moment she felt excitement before worry curled in her stomach.
The mornings events flashed through her mind then. It had been terrifying, and she wondered what Willas thought now. Had he believed her lie? Would he question it or her? She felt anxious, too anxious, and she knew this wasn't simple pre-marital nerves or cold feet. This was a worry that her soon-to-be husband would realise her lies, and perhaps set her aside. Part of her knew she shouldn't worry for such a thing, but she did. She also worried he wouldn't set her aside but simply think less of her now that she couldn't stand.
She hated that this was spoiling her wedding day. With a deep breath then and a level of determination she hadn't known she possessed she forced herself to calm down a little. She'd be damned if this wedding she had worked so hard on was ruined because of one little incident. It was hard though, hard to relax, as one little thought kept nagging at her.
She had lied to Willas, and it was a big lie. She trusted him, she truly did, but something had stopped her telling the truth. She knew it was mainly due to fear the wedding would be called off, something she could not afford, but there was something else too. She simply could not stand the idea of him being disappointed in her, of thinking her to be stupid and naïve. She knew she had been foolish in trusting Ser Dontos, she could see that now, but she had been desperate, so desperate when he had first come to her. And yet, she did not want Willas to know just how desperate she had been, just how stupid she had acted. And so, she had lied, lied because she felt she had to, and she felt awful for it.
What a way to start a marriage, with a basket full of lies. 'Marry on a Monday always be maudlin', 'marry in rain nothing to gain', marry on lies then you're stuffed – sure the last one wasn't quite a saying, but it felt like it should be.
The sun hit her face as she left the carrier and the screams of the smallfolk almost deafened her. She smiled as she ascended the steps with her guards, all six of them (for she had two more now), in truth the extra protection quelled some of her anxiety. She waved at the smallfolk as she made her way inside. They screamed her name then, shouted blessings to her and she smiled sweetly. She thought for a moment back to the riot in Flea Bottom then. The smallfolk hadn't loved her then that was for sure. She wondered when they had turned from despising her to loving her. She knew her new marriage had a lot to do with it, as did her new attention to the poor.
Before her betrothal she had rarely left her rooms never mind the Red Keep, but now she regularly accompanied Margaery to orphanages and poor houses. Sometimes she even went on her own (with guards of course), and she loved it. She loved helping other, meeting different people, and having them share their stories with her. She had found a true passion for something, in helping the downtrodden. She felt some concert with them, for she had been downtrodden for so long too. Perhaps that was what had changed their opinion, her sharing her coin with them, in helping them they had come to love her.
Sansa gave one last wave before she moved inside, her cloak dragging heavy on the floor behind her. She stood at the top of the steps as the doors opened, and once she stepped inside and the doors closed behind her, she looked down and saw the rows of people lined up to see her wed. She felt a little panic flutter in her stomach, it was an odd mixture of nerves, fear and excitement and she wasn't sure which was dominant, though everything did have that ever-present heavy sadness.
Oh, what she wouldn't give to have her father by her side now, her family in the front row, all watching as she married. Tears bit at her eyes and she took a second to wipe them as a few fell.
'I am a Stark, I can be brave'
She looked across the Sept then and her eyes found and focused on Willas. He looked a little troubled, and she could only tell because of her time spent with him. Willas had a masterful poker face and Sansa did not flatter herself that she could see through it often, only now she could a little. For a moment she felt a little worried, did he suspect her lies? Was he upset with her? She just hoped it wouldn't ruin their day or their marriage.
He looked up at her then and smiled at her and she felt some of her anxiety ease. Neither of them wanted an unhappy wedding day and she offered a smile back before preparing to make her way forward. Her father should have been here to give her hand but alas she would walk alone. Tears threatened again but she steeled herself, she could and would do this.
As she went to take her first step forward someone else emerged from her side and took a place next to her. Her eyebrows raised as she saw Garlan take a place beside her. "Lady Sansa" He said with a kind smile, "You're to be my sister, and as your father is present, I am happy to give you away"
A large smile broke across her face then and she linked her arm through Garlan's. He was a true gentleman and yet she suspected he was not the person behind this idea. She only had to look at Willas who had lifted his head to smile at them both to know he was behind this. It was so very thoughtful of him, and it made her warm to him even more. For a moment, the lingering sadness she had felt all day abated, she was here, she was marrying a man she cared for, who was kind to her, protected and she was sure cared for her too. And so, with a happy smile and her eyes fixed on Willas she began to descend the stairs.
The moment had arrived.
She smiled politely at everyone they passed. Bron, Varys, Podrick and Tyrion all nodded their heads respectfully and the Tyrell cousins gave her delighted smiles. Tommen grinned at her and Jaime offered her a bow. Olenna gave her a knowing smile and Margaery grinned, reaching a hand out to pat her as she passed. Mace and Alerie looked happy and proud, Leonette grinned and winked at her and Loras smiled and bowed for her. There were many others who smiled too.
She tried to ignore the Lannister's, but she could feel them, and she knew she would never be able to be near them without feeling at least a little scared. Tywin fixed her with his cold gaze, Cersei offered her a nasty smirk and Joffrey sneered at her as she passed them. Still she refused to give them any of her attention, they may make her feel uncomfortable, but she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing that and instead ignored them all.
Soon she was climbing the stairs, and Garlan stood to one side with Leonette, she gave them both a smile before she turned to her betrothed.
Her eyes met his and they both took a moment to simply gaze at another. She smiled as she looked upon him and she saw a smile tug at his lips as well. The moment had come, and they were both smiling through it.
He looked very handsome, dressed in a green doublet slashed with gold and she felt her cheeks warm as she looked at him. His expression was what really go to her though. He was looking at her as though she were the only person in the room, like she was all that mattered, and all of his attention was fixed firmly on her. She felt adored, worshipped and her gaze never wavered from him either, not for a second.
The High Septon's voice boomed across the Sept "You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection". Sansa smiled as Garlan stepped forward to remove her maiden cloak and Willas stepped forward to lift the bridal cloak and place it over her shoulders. It was a lovely garment, deep green with a pattern of gold roses, emeralds stitched into the hem and collar. Her cheeks turned pink as she felt the weight settle on her back, this was all she had ever wanted, and yet the removal of the Stark cloak left her with a little pang of sadness that could not be avoided.
She struggled to keep thoughts of her family at bay and tears spilled onto her cheeks. She caught Margaery's gaze as she looked over her shoulder and her friends smile did something to reassure her. Sansa turned back to Willas and the High Septon then, this was a happy moment and she did feel happy, it was just a lot to process and she felt a little overwhelmed.
She felt Willas's hand grasp hers then and she smiled at him. She noticed his right hand on the cane, his knuckles white from the strong grip. He had made the effort to cloak her even though it had been difficult for him and for a moment any lingering sadness was gone. To see him make such an effort brought more tears, but they were tears of happiness as she smiled across at him, and even took a second to mouth the words, 'Thank you' to which he smiled in return.
Such a gesture had deeply touched her and as the High Septon continued she could focus; she could smile and for the first time in a very long time her sadness did not come back.
The High Septon then crossed the traditional white ribbon across their hands as he spoke, "Let it be known that Willas of House Tyrell and Sansa of House Stark are one heart, one flesh, one soul" He removed the ribbon from their hands then but they continued to hold one another's hands, and Sansa felt that flutter in her stomach.
"Cursed be he who would tear them asunder!" The final words rang true across the Sept and Sansa knew now, for all intents and purposes she was married, she was no longer Sansa Stark but Sansa Tyrell, only one thing remained for this ceremony.
Willas turned to address the guests but his eyes were only for her, as was his smile, "With this kiss I pledge my love" Sansa took a deep breath then, this would be their first kiss, something she had been anticipating with a mixture of nerves and excitement for a while now. He smiled down at her and gave her a small nod as though to ask her permission which made her feel all the more adored. With that she nodded back, she found she did want him to kiss her, not just for the purpose of completing this marriage but because she wanted the feel of his lips on hers. And so, his hand moved forward to lift her chin, and he then placed that same hand to cup her cheek. She leaned in, in response and then their lips met.
It felt … wondrous. It was like fireworks were exploding in her head, Catherine wheels and firecrackers cascading one after another, but there was also another more subtle feeling. One of a deep delicious warmth that raced through her veins, a feeling of beauty, a feeling of delight, a feeling of love.
It was a feeling of purse happiness, for a moment she didn't feel nervous, worried, sad, or scared but simply happy and nothing else. As they kissed more tears trickled like diamonds down her cheek, tears of joy. Though Willas didn't cry she felt him smile into the kiss and she knew by the way he tenderly cupped her cheek, by the way he had asked permission and by the way he smiled … perhaps he felt it too.
They broke apart then, for they could not kiss forever, no matter how much she wanted to. Applause rang across the room, and Sansa placed a hand over her mouth to smother a sob before she lifted her head and grinned in pure joy. Willas was smiling strong by her side as well, and she knew though his reaction was less emotional than hers that by the way he clutched her hand he was happy to. They were joined now, joined for life, nothing would tear them apart. Short of death they would be with one another forever.
She held tightly onto his hand as the applause continued and they descended the steps together. He moved slowly and she was glad for that then as her cloak was heavy, and she did not wish to trip.
The clapping seemed to go on forever, even as they left the Sept. They would go first to the feast and then others would follow, though they would enter last. They would ride to the Red Keep now together and have their first conversation as man and wife. It hit Sansa a little as the doors opened and the smallfolk screamed her new name, she was truly Sansa Tyrell now, a woman of the south … and with that came the sadness again, more muted than before but still present in her heart, that pang of sadness that Sansa Stark was gone.
Still she smiled, for her happiness would not be crushed by a little melancholy. She smiled and waved as the smallfolk screamed, and she followed Willas down the steps to the carriage. He helped her inside before following her and with that the doors snapped shut and the carriage began to move. Now to the reception and feast which would be held in the beautiful rose gardens. Sansa was keen to see it for she had not yet seen her finished work. The sun shined overhead; the weather perfect for them on this day.
Willas took her hand as he sat next to her and she smiled at him again. She did feel happy, truly, how could she not? This was everything she had ever wanted, ever dreamed of, ever prayed for, and Willas was far beyond what she could have hoped. And yet she knew it would have been perfect, simply perfect, if only her family could have been with her, and only if this wasn't the Capitol but the godswood of Winterfell instead.
Robb stood at the hastily erected alter and the doors behind him swung open. He turned to look over his shoulder in time to see Roslin, his bride, making her way up the aisle, her arm in her fathers. She swore a dress of pure white, with a heavy looking maiden cloak in the colours of her house, blue and grey. She smiled meekly at him as she made her way forward, and her father handed her over for marriage in a tradition as old as time. Lord Walder looked smug as he made his way to sit down, and Robb felt a twinge of worry before he reassured himself. They'd taken precautions, they were prepared, and so he smiled back at Lord Walder. He would not be afraid.
"You will now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection" The Septon spoke, and Robb nodded in response. They were being married under the seven, for it was the religion of the Frey's, they didn't even have a godswood here. He would go along with it but to him they were not truly married until they spoke the words in the Winterfell godswood, until they were married under the old gods. For a moment then he thought of Sansa, he hoped the Tyrell's offered her the same courtesy of marrying under her gods.
A moment later and Lord Walder shakily removed Roslin's maiden cloak and Robb stepped forward to drape the Stark cloak over her shoulders. He smiled down at her, it was a pretty cloak, grey and white with a direwolf across the back. Roslin suited the Stark colours with her fair colouring and dark hair, and she smiled prettily at him as the cloak settled on her shoulders. She was a Stark now, his wife.
She was very beautiful, and he felt lucky. He hoped they could be happy together. This may have been an arranged marriage, but he hoped for some happiness all the same. He tried not to get caught up in musings though, he needed to keep his focus. He was sure that soon the Frey's and Bolton's would initiate their plan and he needed to be alert.
He took Roslin's hand in his as the Septon draped the ribbon over their knuckles. "Let it be known that Robb of House Stark and Roslin of House Frey are one heart, one flesh and one soul" He smiled at his bride then and he was relieved to see her smiling back. She looked nervous and he rubbed his thumb over her hand to try and reassure her. "Cursed be he would tear them asunder!" The Septon called out before removing the ribbon. Robb kept Roslin's hand in his and offered her a kind smiled. Here they were, married, and yet he knew there was more to come of the night.
"With this kiss I pledge my love" He said confidently. He saw his mother smiling at him then and he felt a pang of sadness. He was thankful to have his mother with him, but it felt wrong without the rest of his family. Sansa was stuck in the south, Arya was missing, Bran and Rickon dead, his father long gone, Jon at the Wall. The Stark pack was scattered, and he wished more than anything that they could all be back together.
He turned to his new bride then and tried to ignore the sadness in his heart. He kissed his new bride, his hands framing her face and her hands settled on his chest. The kiss was nice, her lips were soft, and she tasted like honey. He smiled into the kiss and felt her do the same. Perhaps they could find some happiness, perhaps it wasn't foolish to hope so.
Applause rung across the hall then and he didn't release Roslin even as the kiss ended, instead he wrapped an arm around her thin waist and she smiled as he spoke, "Now we feast" Soon everyone dispersed as tables were dragged in and food laid out. Robb turned to his mother and Uncle Bryden as Roslin turned to Olyvar and some of her cousins. His mother pulled him into a tight hug, and he felt his eyes leak a little before he sniffed back any trace of tears. He felt happy yes, and a little sad but now was not the time for tears.
He was a married man now yes, but he knew the wedding was not over, not by any means, it would be stupid to drop his guard now because he had become a little emotional. He felt greywind nose at his leg then and he felt reassured. He had to stay focused, even as his little wife came back to his side. Greywind seemed to like her and that made him smile.
In a few minutes, the hall was organised, and Robb moved to the top table with his wife. His mother sat on his right and Lord Walder sat on Roslin's left. The rest of the guests were settled at the tables. He smiled then at Roslin before he caught the eye of one of his men and gave him a nod. Said man nodded back before making his way outside to ensure the men were prepared to attack if need be. They needed to be prepared for the inevitable betrayal, and Robb was not letting his guard down, not even as he smiled at his little wife as she kissed his cheek.
For the first hour though the mood was jovial and happy. Roslin smiled happily as she picked at her food and they chatted happily about the Riverland's and the North. She had a sharp wit as she spoke, and Robb found himself grinning at her. She may be a slip of a girl, but she had a good sense of humour and seemed happy. They seemed to get along well, and Robb vowed then he would not set aside his marriage vows. Unless Roslin was involved in this plot (which he found unlikely), he would not set her aside. She was beautiful, funny, kind, and he would be a fool to throw her away. He would not blame a daughter for her families crimes.
"The first dance" Lord Walder called out then as Robb finished his second course of food. He nodded and rose to his feet, holding his hand out for his bride before leading her to the dance floor. The music was slow and sweet, and he spun her before they settled in a delicate embrace to sway back and forth. He smiled down at her as he held her close, and she smiled up at him, her hands on his chest, her eyes alight with joy. The song finished then, and she tugged him to sit down but he pulled her back to him which sent the crowd laughing. He wasn't done yet, and yet Roslin clearly wanted to be, as she looked at him with a worried expression.
He raised an eyebrow then, had he somehow frightened her? And yet as he saw her mouth the words 'I'm sorry' he realised … it was time. She was even giving him a little warning which confirmed to him, she may have known about the betrayal, but she wasn't part of it. He nodded to her in understanding and she seemed relieved though still worried, and Robb felt that too, especially as the music changed.
As soon as he heard the new tune he quickly moved to his mother, his men jumped to their feet as did the Frey men.
The Rains of Castamere had begun.
The ceremony had been beautiful, and Sansa had been a true vision when she had entered the Sept, the light shining behind her, making her look like something related to an angel. His breath had been knocked from him when he had seen her, and as she had descended the stairs on his brothers' arm (his idea, as if he would have ever allowed Joffrey to escort her), he had only been able to stare at her like a fool, a smile on his face reflecting hers as she moved closer.
He had been able to forget the conflict with Ser Dontos for a moment, to focus on his bride, to revel in this. Willas was a practical man, pragmatic to a fault and not overly emotional, and yet as Sansa Stark stopped in front of him on the steps of the Sept he felt emotional, he felt happy, and his grin reflected that, slashed across his face, not muted or tempered as it usually would be. For a moment he just allowed himself to be truly happy, as he watched his wife, and only had eyes for her.
Her eyes were alight, full of happiness and throughout the wedding Willas couldn't resist stealing glances of her. As Garlan removed her cloak Willas placed the Tyrell one on her shoulders. He had, had to do without his cane for a few seconds and yes it had been a struggle, but he had gritted his teeth and got it done. He wouldn't embarrass Sansa by messing up her cloaking. He knew she wanted the perfect wedding, and though he knew it couldn't be perfect for her, not here, not without her family, he could sure as hell try.
He had known she appreciated the gesture as tears spilled over her cheeks and he resisted the urge to wipe them away, clutching her hand in comfort instead. They were bound then, in the light of the seven and his words rang true, "With this kiss I pledge my love".
She tasted sweet, and she was clearly nervous and yet it gave the kiss an air of refreshing innocence. Willas had, had few kisses himself, for galivanting about with women had never been his style. True, he was no virgin, but he wasn't a lothario either. Still, the innocence of the kiss, her hesitation and yet enthusiasm at the same time were delightful. She was a true wonder, and as they kissed, he melted into it along with her, her lips soft against his.
As they parted, he only had a smile for her. For now, he had pushed the issue of Dontos out of his mind, but it would be a lie to say it wasn't a struggle to forget about it. He was furious that someone had dared to try to steal his betrothed, but also disappointed, that Sansa had lied to him, and that would be a problem soon. He would have to confront her about it, he didn't want to ruin their wedding day and yet it was something he had to do. He couldn't have her lying to him, he was sure she had her reasons, and yet he would need to know the truth.
Soon they left the Sept, and though he did not wave for the smallfolk he smiled as Sansa did and they roared her new name in kind. He led her into the carriage and found something quite satisfying about hearing her new name, Sansa Tyrell. It suited her and he even offered the common people a wave as he followed her into the carriage. Once inside he took her hands in his. She was truly a beauty, and now his wife. It was his job to protect her now, and he would do this, damn right he would. But he would strive for more than that, he would try to make her happy.
The carriage moved along, returning them to the Red Keep for the celebrations and he turned to Sansa, his beautiful little wolf with a smile. She looked happy, but he could see the worry in the depths of her gaze. He knew they needed to talk, and he didn't see any point in waiting. If anything, he hoped to get it out of the way so they could move on to the rest of the day.
"Sansa" He said gently, before planting a kiss on her knuckles. He kept his tone gentle (with some effort, for though he wasn't angry at her, he could feel his anger at the situation coming back to him). Her cheeks flared pink at his action and he found that helped as he continued, "I don't want to spoil this day, but you and I both know we need to talk about what happened this morning" He raised an eyebrow then, and glanced to check the shutters were closed, they were, and the carriage was surrounded by guards. They wouldn't be overheard here; of that he was sure.
"Yes, I suppose we do" She said with a nod of her head, her teeth found her bottom lip and she dropped her gaze. He hated that he was the one to make her feel nervous here, but he could not leave this be.
"You were attacked, almost abducted" He felt a wave of anger again but once more he smothered it down, for the moment at least. "I want to promise you, I will have the fools head for what he did to you, I will have it before the year is out" Again he strived to remain calm. Sansa had never seen his nasty side, the ruthless side that would make hardened warriors pale, and he wanted to keep it that way. She saw him as a noble Lord, and he did not want to besmirch that image she had of him.
"However," He paused before continuing, he did not want to do this, but he knew he must. Sansa looked worried and so he was quick to ask, "I need to know how you knew Ser Dontos, and please do not give me the tale you gave the guards, we both know that was not the truth and I would have the true story from you" He fixed her with his gaze then, and waited.
He saw her pale, and he noted her hands in her lap were curled into her fists and her gaze dropped from him again. Her eyes were clouded with fear and as she spoke her voice was hesitant, nervous, and once again he hated himself for making her so worried, and yet in this case it was necessary.
For a moment she hesitated and Willas worried she wouldn't tell him, or she would lie to him again. Luckily, it only took a second and the whole tale spilled from her mouth; of how Ser Dontos had offered her a way to escape, of how they had met in the godswood, of how she had been planning to leave with him before she had been betrothed. As tears fell down her cheeks, he pulled her to him, and held her close, he was relieved when she fell into him without resistance. She sobbed as she promised him, she had abandoned those plans when she had met him, how she had seen no other way, how scared she had been. He knew she was telling the truth then and he pulled her close, let her sob into his chest, and hated himself for being the one to cause her tears.
And yet, it had, had to be done. He didn't relish in her tears but the cause of them had been something he had needed to know.
"Sansa, my love" He spoke gently again, as he tried to reassure her. He moved back from her and took a hold of her hands then, holding them tightly, "You do not need to be scared anymore" She seemed to brighten at that, some of the worry leaving her eyes, perhaps because of his endearment or his words, "I promise you, I will protect you" Again she brightened, even managed to give a small smile as he continued, "I know how bad your life was here, it is natural you fell for the fools pretty words, he played on your desperation" He said with a nod, and he leaned forward to place a kiss to her forehead which he was pleased to feel she leaned into.
"However, I am not happy you put yourself at risk" He said, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What a naïve little wife he had, and yet he did not blame her for that. Few had been raised by Olenna Tyrell and taught to be suspicious of anything, as well Sansa was a northerner, where honour was taught, not politics and scheming. Of course, she was naïve, which he liked in a way, but he would have to rectify it in the future. He enjoyed her innocence greatly, but with the plans he had for the family he would have to rectify that innocence a little.
"I will be in charge of your security from now on" He looked down at her then, almost with a hard edge to his gaze, in case she protested, which thankfully she did not, good, he hadn't wanted to argue that, and he reached forward then to wipe the tears from her eyes. "And I will find Dontos, I will kill him, and I will find out who paid him" He had no anger for Sansa, sure she had been naïve, reckless even, but he could hardly blame her. No, he had no anger for his little wife, only anger at who had dared try and take her from him.
Sansa looked a little confused at that, "What do you mean?" She asked, and Willas smiled at her indulgently. She was truly adorable, something Willas had not seen in a long time. His sister may look the part but underneath she was a rose with thorns, whereas Sansa had no thorns … not yet at least.
"Sansa it is clear Dontos was working for another" He said with a nod, giving her a kind smile and cupping her cheek, "He wouldn't have tried to abduct you with guards outside the door if someone else wasn't involved" He shook his head then, as he felt another rush of anger, "Whoever it was they must have paid him handsomely" He turned to Sansa again, and looked into her eyes, those beautiful blue eyes. "I will find who paid him and I will never let him hurt you again"
At that Sansa smiled at him and leaned forward to kiss him once more. Willas was surprised at her boldness and yet he felt she was being so bold because she was overwhelmed perhaps, relieved as well. And so, when she leaned forward, he smiled as their lips met a second time, and he felt the rush he had felt in the Sept. He felt her smile into the kiss, and he pulled her a little closer. He heard her gasp and he grinned even more as he pulled away.
Willas had never imagined his marriage would be anything more than political, he had never imagined there would be any affection between him and his wife, and yet as Sansa grinned at him, let out a delightful little squeal and settled in next to him he found himself thinking … could this arrangement be something more? He already cared for her, he would be a fool not to recognise that, but could it become more? He didn't want to put the horse out before the cart, and yet as he looked down at her as the carriage arrived at the Red Keep … he felt perhaps, perhaps it could.
And so, he would protect her, he would find the men who had played on her vulnerabilities. She was still too trusting, too naïve, and he would ensure she was not preyed upon again. He felt another rush of anger, he would protect Sansa, he would protect his wife, that anyone could be sure of.
'And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low?'
'Only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth I know'
'In a coat of gold, or a coat of red, a lion still has claws'
'And mine are long and sharp, my Lord'
'As long and sharp as yours'
He heard the words, saw the men on the top floor move into position and glanced down at his wife. The betrayal had come, and yet as he glanced at Lord Walder, smirking, convinced he had them trapped, Robb had expected this, had prepared for this, and when the first arrow flew from overhead he sprung into action.
"Now!" His cry rang across the room and his men immediately dove into action. The women and children were hurried outside, quickly, and efficiently and his own soldiers poured in. Arrows flew across the room and almost heard one fly past his ear … close, too close, and he heard his mother cry out for him. He only glanced at her as his Uncle forced her outside, and he nodded in response to the Blackfish. Now his mother was gone he could focus, focus on what needed to be done.
The Frey's and his men were fighting now, but the Frey's were outnumbered almost immediately. He saw a few of his own men fall but for each of his that fell, two or three Frey's did. He turned to Roslin then, as he pulled his own sword from his belt. He pushed her back, next to the head table, "Stay down" Was all he could say before and she was trembling but gave him a nod, and then he moved on.
"Upstairs!" He called out, and his men moved, running up to the overhead balcony, to take out the men with bows. They were fast, but not fast enough, and Robb saw the arrow before it flew into his shoulder, finding a gap in his chainmail and piercing him there. He groaned at the contact, but he could see it hadn't gone in far, the wound wouldn't be life threatening. Without hesitation he snapped the end of the arrow off, leaving a small part in that the Maester could sort out later. For now, he had other things to focus on.
Though, the fighting only lasted a few minutes more, as his men neutralised each and every Frey. Greywind had ripped through the most, and soon the remaining Frey's threw their swords to the floor. They had taken their own losses, and though the Frey's surrendered, Roose Bolton and his remaining men were lashing out, refusing to throw down. Robb ran forward then, anger surging through his veins, fury in his expression as he surged forward, crossing swords with the Lord of the Dreadfort.
"Why Roose?" Was all he asked, and the Lord's expression didn't even change. He was like that, expressionless, and yet he did speak.
"My ancestors bowed to the Starks" He lashed out but Robb dodged, "I will not" At that Robb dodged another blow, before angling his sword to slash at the inside of his leg before he plunged his sword into Lord Bolton's thigh. The man groaned in pain, but did not scream, not even as his men rushed in to drag him away. He would be a good hostage if they ran into problems at the Dreadfort, and so as much as Robb simply wanted to behead him, he resisted. On seeing their Lord fall the rest of his men threw down arms, and that left just Lord Walder who Robb had last seen at the top table, looking smug before Robb had fought back, where was he now?
"Walder!" He called out, for the man didn't deserve the title of Lord. He was met with a cackle at his call and he whirled around to see the old man, a knife now held to his own daughter's throat, to Roslin's throat, his wife. Walder looked half mad as he held the dagger at her neck. Robb took a step forward then, but Walder pressed the knife closer and Robb could see the bead of blood drip down her throat at that. He stopped moving then, remained back, hands shaking a little as he saw Roslin's eyes cloud with fear and sob leave her lips.
They had stopped the betrayal of the Frey's, only losing a few men, everyone else was safe, except for Roslin. Robb felt stupid then, he had ensured the safety of everyone except for his wife! Yes, they didn't know one another and technically they hadn't bedded yet, but it didn't matter, she was an innocent, she didn't' deserve this. He had ensured the other Frey women had been taken outside and yet with Roslin he hadn't even thought … he felt like a fool, an utter fool, and now he would pay for such a blunder.
"Walder!" Robb spoke then, in a commanding voice, the voice he reserved for his enemies or for leading his men into battle. It was hard to stay so composed, as the wound in his shoulder throbbed and his wife sobbed before his eyes, her own father holding a blade to her neck. Thankfully, his adrenaline was up, and he was able to focus, though he didn't dare move as he continued.
"It is over" He said simply, and he saw by the look in old Lord Frey's eyes he knew it too, "You've lost, hand over my wife and I will grant you a quick death and allow the men of your family to join the Watch" He felt that was fair and the Wall could always use more men, "It is more than you deserve but I will stand by my word"
Walder didn't move though, he didn't lower his arm and only let out a harsh cackle, "I may have lost boy, but you'll lose something too" He was grinning then, and with a sharp slash he opened Roslin's throat, from side to side, like a great red smile across her neck. Robb let out a choked sound as he ran forward, as his little pale wife fell to the floor, a halo of blood soon spreading around her head.
Anger drove Robb in the next moments, and he ran forward, knocking the Lord Frey to the floor before his hands found his throat. Walder died fast, faster than he deserved, and once he was gone Robb shoved him aside before turning to Roslin, his sweet little wife whom he'd never got to know. She had been so young, just 16, and yet she was with the gods now, and he prayed, he prayed they would look after her. He prayed to the old gods to show mercy, to be kind to her, and placed a kiss on her forehead. He hadn't loved her, hadn't known her long or well enough, but he knew her death was his fault, and she had not deserved to die.
For just a moment he held her body close, and allowed himself just a few seconds, before he was able to compose himself and rise to his feet. He was gentle when he placed her down, but when he turned to his men his expression was anything but gentle, "Dispose of the bodies, take any remaining Frey's hostage, have my wife buried, respectfully, she was of faith, give her a ceremony in the seven" He paused then, "Bury her here, in the Frey crypts, with her family" He nodded then, "Have any northern men's remained taken to Winterfell, have Maester's treat the injured" He rolled out orders one after another, and he was relieved to see his men getting to immediate work.
He felt more relief when his mother re-entered the hall with her uncle, it seemed the only casualty close to him had been his wife, he glanced at her again and felt a twinge in his chest, she hadn't deserved this, not one bit, and yet now he had to move on.
"Work fast, I want this dealt with quickly" He glanced around at his men then, he knew what had to come next, "Then we ride for Winterfell"