CHAPTER SIX
4 Days Until the Wedding
Robb's POV
"If you jab me with that pin one more time-"
"Robb Stark, so help me by the Old Gods if you threaten Madam Louise I will bloody your face for your wedding. Your wife to be is already repulsed by you, would you like to make it worse?" Father grit out as I had jumped again while being poked and probed at by Madam Louise, the most vile woman in the village here.
I rolled my eyes as I winced again. Another fucking pin being jabbed into my side. I could feel the blood trickling down this time. I breathed in through my nose and Madam Louise came to her feet and looked at me.
Her blackened teeth showing as she smiled at me. "You lost too much weight since the last time I made you formal attire. What ails you, Young Wolf?"
My eyes were deadened and staring far away from her. Chewing on the inside of my cheek to avoid any sort of conversation with her. She chuckled at me and poked me again. This time I knew it was on purpose. My glare shot to my father who saw it happen and he shook his head in annoyance.
He didn't want to escort me here, let alone also drag all the boys along too. Theon, Jon, Bran, Rickon, and even Joffrey and Tommen. King Robert was across the way looking at swords and daggers because they had just happened to catch his eye. Joffrey wanted to go with him but my father insisted Joffrey stay to give his input.
"Alana hates that shade of grey." Joffrey pointed out. "She says it looks too green and reminds her of baby shit."
Madam Louise grunted and removed the piece of fabric that had been pinned to my chest and tossed it aside. "That boy is a diva."
"That boy is your future King." I grunted in a whisper to her. "Respect his diva like decisions... Or I'll have to suffer even worse at the hands of his sister."
Louise snorted and went to pick up another fabric when Joffrey stopped her from across the room. "No, no, no-" He stormed over. "No floral! He's the Young Wolf not some prince of gardens! Does he look like a Tyrell to you? No? Give him something more manly. And not the color of something that comes from a baby's stomach."
For a moment I rolled my eyes so hard I felt them get stuck. Joffrey went and explored the men's attire she had on display. Bran followed him and of course, that meant Tommen would too. Theon and Jon sat close by where I was standing and being fitted while Father held a tired Rickon in his arms.
"I want you in more of a winter grey." She held up the fabric. "An icy grey. I'll do some crimson stitching-"
"No red." I replied. "The King's children will all be in red and gold."
"Your bride's gown has red stitching." She cut me off quickly and didn't even think twice about it. "You may be the groom but she is the bride and I will do what I must to please her. She is the King's daughter... You are not."
"I'm not a fucking Lannister." I mumbled softly. "I'm a Stark and I wish to look like one."
Louise grunted. "Then gold stitching and a crimson tunic. I want you and your wife to wear the same colors. All the same colors. She's a nice girl, that Princess Alana, bit of a laugher though."
I squinted my eyes confused and looked to Jon and Theon who both shrugged with confused expressions on their faces. Father nodded and smiled and then went to check on the other boys. They had been just a little too quiet for a little too long.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked.
She hummed at me. A fucking hum. A little shrug of the shoulder and then she was pinning me up again and this time thankfully avoiding pinning my fucking skin and organs as she did so. Theon raised a brow and then looked to Louise.
"Is she ticklish or something? Shouldn't Robb know all her sweet spots? Come on Madam, you got to help my brother out." Theon winked and Jon belted out with laughter.
Louise was not humored by Theon at all. "I didn't mean it like that." She explained with a scoff. "I just meant she's humorous. She likes to joke and play around and especially when her mother speaks her mind... She finds her funny. Laughter only makes her laugh harder."
"I don't think she's capable of laughing. I've only ever seen her angry." I replied with a snort and an eyeroll. Scoffing at the idea that Alana could even find it in herself to laugh at anything but my torment.
Jon looked down and didn't say anything. He didn't crack a smile either. I looked at him suspiciously. Waiting for Madam Louise to excuse herself and go outback for more pins and for Theon to go next door for a cup of ale at the tavern with my father following behind him and dragging all the kids with him to let them roam free and be out of his hair for a little while.
I glared down at him and crossed my arms.
"You don't like when I talk about her." I said firmly and he didn't do anything but blink long and hard at me. That right there was all the confirmation that I needed. My suspicions were right. He fucking likes her.
And doesn't just think she's nice or anything like that.
He. Fucking. Likes. Her.
"Sometimes you're just... Harsh." Jon said softly. "She's not bad."
I rolled my eyes and laughed from annoyance. "Not that bad? Theon told me she made them throw away every fucking flower yesterday that she didn't approve of. And then- and then she was watching me with my mother and probably shit talking me."
"You're paranoid." Jon argued. "When's the last time you spoke to her?"
"Two days ago." I replied quickly. "And I don't plan on speaking to her until I'm forced to say my vows."
Jon shook his head and breathed heavily through his nose. "You don't fucking realize how good you have it, you know that? You have a future secured. A wife that was just handed to you out of nowhere and she's fucking beautiful and smart and funny and talented-"
"I thought just a few days ago you only wanted to see if you could fuck her before Theon could." Clicking my tongue I laughed at him again.
What a fucking pathetic piece of shit my brother is. How could he go from just wanting her in his bed to prove a point to Theon to all of a sudden giving a fuck about her?
Again, Jon blinked at me silently. But anger was rising in him. It was funny to see from time to time how he'd get so worked up and pissed off. Especially over someone as silly as fucking Alana? Alana fucking Baratheon has him in a fucking tizzy right now.
"Yeah well..." Jon started and adjusted himself nervously in his seat. "She's actually fucking nice. I talked to her in the library after that and I apologized for your shitty behavior but... She said she knew it was bullshit and you would never send someone to apologize for you, let alone utter the words 'I'm sorry' so, I mean I tried to make it easier for you but... Fuck you." He grunted. "So what if I fucking like her."
"I'm marrying her. That's the big 'so what' Jon, that's a fucking problem. Cause if you like her and she hates me what happens when I'm trying to have my own fucking heirs like her father is demanding and they come out with black hair and dark fucking eyes. Little fucking clones of you? How do I explain that my bastard brother gave my wife bastard children?" I threw a cloth at his face and stomped down toward him. "You're just the bastard. Remember that. She's a princess and she's going to my fucking wife."
Jon laughed in my face and rose to his feet. "You sound possessive for someone who doesn't give a fuck about her."
I clutched my fist but Jon was thankfully saved by the sound of Madam Louise stumbling back into the room with more pins and more fucking fabrics to pin to me. Jon sat his ass back down and soon my father flooded back in with the boys and King Robert following in behind him. The tension was tough for certain between Jon and myself.
But that entire walk back to Winterfell he had me wondering to myself... Why do I feel so fucking possessive over a girl I don't give a single fuck about? And that made me lose my fucking appetite. But it didn't make me lose my thirst for ale. Or wine.
-
"Robb, did you hear me?" Sansa's voice sounded like seven people were trying to talk to me as I opened my eyes. I didn't even realize I fell asleep in the library. I don't even remember coming up her at all.
I blinked at her stupidly and noticed the entire pint of ale that had been emptied on the floor in front of me and the full feeling in my bladder. I needed to go take a piss but if I stood up right now I'd either fall over or throw up on Sansa. Or both.
"Huh?" I muttered.
She scoffed and crossed her arms. "I asked if you would be joining us in the Great Hall to go over the music setlist for the musicians to plat your wedding. Alana has some songs picked out but Mother said you need to pick some too and come to an agreeance of what you want your first dance to be."
"I'm too tired to dance." I muttered and leaned my head back against the leather armchair I was sitting in. "Pass me that pint, I need to piss-"
My face was stinging instantly when Sansa's hand collided with my fucking face. The same spot Alana hit me in just a few days before. No fucking wonder Alana and Sansa got along so well. They both enjoy making me fucking miserable and causing me pain.
"Do you fucking mind?" I said with poison in my words.
"Get up." Sansa demanded and suddenly she sounded exactly like our mother. "I said," She tugged on my arms and I toppled forward, holding down everything that wanted to flow back up and escape me. "Get the fuck up!"
Another slap to the face once I was on my feet and my eyes stayed open. I breathed heavily and did nothing but grit my fucking teeth and dragged my feet down the stairs, to a bush outside where I pissed and puked and pissed some more until I was sober enough to waltz myself into the great hall.
Alana was wearing yet another ugly fucking gown. All floral and pink. I wanted to laugh at how much Joffrey demanded that floral not make a single appearance in my wedding attire. Yet his sister wears gowns that were made extremely poorly and they always have some sort of floral. Maybe he's as sick of those gowns as I am.
She didn't even fucking look at me when I came into the hall. I sat down a few spots away from her and my mother cleared her throat and pointed to the spot directly next to Alana. I moved there and she again, ignored me. Like I didn't exist.
I'm not sure which I hate more. When she clearly tells me she hates me or when she pretends I'm not there. I'm actually starting to believe it's her pretending I'm invisible that grinds my gears the most.
And I think she knows that.
I looked at the paper in front of her with all the songs and when they'd be performed written down in front of her. I shook my head and chuckled with a "Uh, uh" in my tone. "No way. You're not walking down the isle to The Rains of Castamere. That's not fucking happening."
She said nothing.
"I'm not having that play at my wedding. Let alone see my bride be presented to me to that song. Nope. No way." I could have stopped there but I went down the list again seeing as nothing was getting a reaction out of her. She just sat blankly and even turned her head away from me at one point.
"You want us to dance to Jenny of Oldstones as our first dance? No. That's stupid." I muttered.
"Anything else stupid, Robb?" My mother scolded me like I was a child but the moment she looked at Alana she had a look of pure compassion. "I don't think your choices are stupid, darling. It's your wedding. You only get one."
I laughed loudly. "Unless you're Aunt Lysa."
"Robb!" Mother seethed at me. "Mind your manners!"
"Walder Frey too." Alana muttered softly. "He's had many wives..."
My mother's jaw dropped and she clasped her hand over her own mouth and I heard laughter. Fucking laughter. When my bride to be made a very informal joke. But when I did it, it was wrong? Yet when Alana does it... Oh that's right... Alana does no wrong.
If it had been anyone else who made that joke perhaps I would have laughed and even agreed. Inside my head I certainly did. But not to her face, no, never that. We're four days away from this stupid wedding and if I start backing down from now and letting her win then what kind of person am I? A weak one. That's what.
Mother moved her hand down onto the table and smiled at Alana. "When I was a girl my father used to call Lord Walder 'The Late Walder Frey' because he was always... Well... Late. He even showed up to your father's rebellion once the fighting was done. Said it took him that long to rally his troops. More like he didn't know if he really wanted to risk the lives of all those damned children of his."
Alana giggled and there was a brightness in her eyes I'd never seen before. A spark as she spoke to my mother. She was kind to her... Genuinely kind... And my mother clearly adored her back.
Sickening.
"My father said if Walder Frey ever tried to rebel he would crown him King of Bastards instead of King of the Riverlands." Alana replied with laughter in her words and a glimmer of joy in her eyes. My mother also laughed and seemingly meant it.
I rolled my eyes. "Is my presence still needed here? Or can I go?"
Mother scoffed and her smile fell from her face. A haunting look that held pure hatred in her eyes took it's place and she breathed through her nose at me, huffing and puffing until poison fell from her tongue.
"Why won't you just sit and speak with us? Alana is to be your wife there is no need for you to run and hide at the sight of her. Now, go over those songs and figure out what dances you'd wish to dance. There will also be a bard in between who will do some silly songs and poetry, I don't know- King Robert requested it." She waved her hand in the air and then looked back at me, that hand turning to one single finger as she pointed and wagged it at me.
I scratched at my beard and noticed Alana was looking down completely. Her eyes no longer gleaming. Her smile faded and turned to a frown and she was using a small file on her nails. Probably sharpening them to kill me in my sleep after our wedding. Which, with all honestly, wouldn't shock me at all.
"That beard needs to come off before the wedding too. How did it grow in so fast? You only shaved a few days ago." Mother complained like always but before I could argue a small voice chimed in.
"I think the beard is... A nice touch." Alana said softly. "If you could keep it for the wedding... I think it would suit you."
She still wouldn't look at me. She continued filing at her nails and wiping the little bit of dust on the skirt of her gown off and onto the floor. Her dark hair falling over her shoulder and making it really hard to see her face now.
Mother went from angry to almost smiling but then she looked at her with her head tilted. My eyes shifted to the side and I turned my head slowly to look at Alana but not completely. She's never once complimented me. Or spoken directly to me since finding out we're supposed to be getting married.
She's avoided me like the plague.
Except to be a weirdo and watch me from windows or stand on the balcony with my mother and gawk at me like women do. I flickered my eyes back to my mother who nodded her head in the direction of Alana, hinting at me to reply, to say something.
"I'll shave it off." I shrugged.
Alana got up from the table in an instant and stormed off. Slamming the door behind her so heavily that the painting that hung on the wall fell to the floor. Creating another loud booming sound in the great hall.
Mother smacked me in the head. "What in the Seven Hells, Robb!"
"What?" I gripped onto my head and complained.
"Your bride complimented you! She even defended you against your own mother! Progress had been made and you just threw it down the well and lit it on fire! You could have said 'thank you' or 'that's a lovely idea' but no! You just had to mess that one up! Go find her and apologize!" Mother demanded.
I stood from the table and went outside. Looking around the courtyard but I couldn't find her at all. Everyone just seemed like they had been moving in slow motion around me. I don't know her well enough to know where she'd go when she's upset.
Stupidly I checked her chambers that she shared with her sister, Myrcella. Only to find Myrcella standing there and glaring at me. Her arms crossed and her bright green eyes shooting flames of wildfire at me.
"Oh," I said softly. "Alana isn't here... Is she?"
She shook her head silently. Her glare not once breaking. I don't even think Myrcella blinked either. Honestly, it's frightening. And the way she curls her lip into a sneer reminds me of Alana. That family has some strong fucking genetics.
"Listen... I have to marry her and I'm not happy about it and I'm sure she isn't either. Actually, I know she's not happy about it but I just really upset her and my mother wants me to say sorry-"
Myrcella laughed loudly and took an intimidating step toward me. Clicking her tongue before she spoke. "That's the problem with you, Young Wolf. You're only going to apologize because your mommy told you to do so. You don't give a single fuck about my sister and honestly she doesn't care about you either. If you upset her that's on you. I'm not going to pretend to be your friend and go and talk to her and try to make her run into your stupid arms. My sister is smart to hate you. Anyone who hates you is smart to hate you. Run back to your stupid little river that you enjoy sitting by and-"
"How do you know that." I cut her off. "How the fuck do you know that I sit by the water when I'm upset?"
She looked at me like a frozen stag.
"Tell me."
"Alana told me."
"How does Alana know that?" I shot out my questions just as quickly as she had responded previously.
"Your mom told her." She swallowed hard.
I nodded one single nod. "If I upset her... Would I find her there right now?" Myrcella was frozen again. Not a single blink but her eye did twitch slightly. Alana's does that too when she's in her psycho mode. I let a chuckle slip through my lips and I nodded again. "Alright... Thanks, Myrcella."
When I turned to leave she spoke again. "If you ever hurt my sister's feelings again I will have you smothered in your sleep. Do you understand me?" I nodded again.