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Chapter 21: the Green Wedding

TRYSTANE

“Now that you are back, in Dorne, I’ve been giving some thought to your future,” began my father, Prince Doran Martell. “I think it is time you were betrothed.”

“I see. Who do you have planned for me, father?” I asked.

“I had originally planned to tie us to the Targaryans, by betrothing your sister to King Viserys,” said my father. “But then he got himself killed by the Dokthraki. So I would like you to seek out his sister, Queen Danerys.”

“Where shall I seek her, father?” I asked.

“She was last seen in Bravos,” stated my father. “You may begin your search there.”

(Snakes teeth! I don’t want to go to Bravos! I hate sailing! Maybe I can cut the sailing part of the trip shorter by sailing out of White Harbor? Sure, it will take longer to get there. But at least I’ll be on land most of the way.)

“Yes father,” I said, out loud. “I will leave at first light tomorrow.”


SAM

“Maester! Come quick! this one is still alive!”

I couldn’t see. Someone had put a hood over my head. My face and left shoulder felt like they were on fire.

“Calm yourself son. You have bandages on your head. Do you remember your name?”

“Samwell Tarly,” I croaked.

“He’s a nobleman! Move him into the room with the nobles!”

“No! No. I want to stay with the small folk,” I pleaded. “What happened to me?”

“You were severely burned on your face, neck and shoulder,” replied the Maester. “You were very lucky to be buried under all that stone. It shielded you from most of it. Many people much further away did not survive at all. Now drink some milk of the poppy. It will help with the pain.”


JON

Rob left shortly after we arrived in Riverrun and had taken the Northern army with him. Almost as soon as he arrived in Winterfell, some of the Stark troops were sent back, this time to escort Lady Stark and my sister, Sansa, to Bran’s wedding. It was good to see my sister again. But it was a shock to see that Lady Stark had come here, heavily pregnant. According to Sansa, our Father and Lady Stark had been fighting about her keeping the baby ever since she had returned to Winterfell. I blamed myself. Years ago, my father had strayed from his marriage bed and produced me. Now, Lady Stark had strayed from her own and was making a bastard of her own. I felt sorry for the child. Being raised without a mother or any parent at all was not a life I would wish on anyone.

Much to my annoyance, Lady Stark insisted on my accompanying her and Sansa when they went to visit with Bran to visit Lord Tully.

“I TOLD YOU I DON’T WANT YOU IN HERE, BASTARD!” wheezed Lord Tully. “AND YOU! HOW DARE YOU COME IN HERE WITH A BASTARD INSIDE YOU?! YOU’RE AS BIG A SLUT AS YOUR SISTER!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” yelled back Lady Stark. “Now you listen here! You are the one who is a disgrace! What are our words? Family, Honor, Duty. Family comes first. You have forgotten about the importance of Family and driven uncle Bynden away! This is our family: My daughter, Sansa Stark, my son, your heir, Brandon Stark, my stepson, my husband’s son, Jon Stark and here inside me is your next grandson. It doesn’t matter to me where he came from! I’m his mother and I love him. It was wrong of you to kill Lysa’s first baby. And you not going to hurt mine. And it you don’t like it, you can give your castle to the Freys!”

And with that, She stormed out. I was quick to follow her. Sansa and Bran had stayed behind to try to talk sense into their grandfather. We walked together as she stomped off in the waddling gait that a woman in her condition has. She started to head for the Sept, but then changed her mind and instead went to the Gods’ Wood. She seemed very surprised at the re-grown weirwood tree.

“When? How did this happen?” asked Lady Stark.

“Edric restored it when we first arrived,” Lady Stark.

“Please, call me Aunt Catlyn, or mother if you want,” sobbed Lady Stark, as she sat in the tree and started crying. She pulled me closer and bawled into my chest. “I’m a horrible woman! I promised the Seven I would be a better mother to you and I wasn’t!”

“It’s fine,” I soothed.

“No, it’s not! blamed you for how Ned made you and then turned around and did the same thing myself!” she sobbed.

“That was different,” I soothed as I hugged her. “You didn’t have a choice. You were forced.”

“I was later,” sobbed Catlyn. “But I’m pretty sure it was one of the earlier ones that made the baby, the ones I consented to, the ones I enjoyed! I gave myself to other men and enjoyed it! My father’s right I AM a slut!”

“Your father is not in his right mind,” I explained “His illness is affecting his thinking. Tell me this: If you had fought those men from the very beginning, wouldn’t they have forced you anyway?”

“Yes . . .”

“There, you have it,” I assured. “It’s not your fault. You did a noble thing trying to save Mycella by offering yourself instead. It is not your fault it didn’t work.”

I held her until she had cried herself out.


EDRIC

After we got used to Riverrun, Bran and Jon discovered a large gap in their combat knowledge. While Jon is arguably Westeros’ best swordsman, he and Bran had not at all trained with the lance. I had some training but was no by means an expert. So we had to rely on the Master of Arms to get us up to speed. As Riverlander knights, we would be expected to compete in tournaments. I was practicing on my horse, lancing rings for accuracy, when I spotted a red-haired girl stepping out of into the yard followed by a dire wolf I had not seen before. As I rode up to her I could see her eyes were red from crying.

“Such a pretty girl to have such a sad face,” I said, as a drew my wand so I could make my armor lighter, so I could hop down from my horse. “You must be Sansa Stark. Ser Edric Peverel, at your service” I said, as I held my hand out to her, took her’s, and kissed it.

She giggled at my audacity.

“I have heard of you,” said Sansa. “My brother Bran says you are teaching him magic. Is it true?”

“It most certainly is, my lady,” I replied, as I waved my wand and summoned a flower from the ground that I handed to her.

“Oh! could I try?” she asked.

“You can give it a try, but it probably won’t- . . .” I had handed her my wand which she waved and produced a few sparks, more than Bran had when he tried it. This didn’t mean she was more powerful, just that her magic was more compatible with my wand than Brans was.

“You’re a Witch!” I exclaimed.

“I am not! You take that back!” she yelled, as she shook my wand at me threateningly and it gave off more sparks.

“No. I mean you have magic, like me and Bran,” I explained.

“Really? I could learn to do magic, like you and Bran do?” asked Sansa.

“Sure,” I said. “We just need to make you a wand. Let’s go to the Gods’ Wood. We can get the stick part there.

When we arrived in the Gods’ Wood, we found Jon and Lady Stark were already there, and hugging each other.

“Mother!” exclaimed Sansa.

Jon leapt away from Lady Stark.

“I was just offering her comfort,” explained Jon. “Your Grandfather upset her.”

“He upset me too,” agreed Sansa. “And he got worse after you left.”

“Your Grandfather is not the man he once was,” replied Lady Stark, as she wiped her eyes.


MARGAERY

It seemed like it took forever to travel to Riverrun. I can see why Grandmother did not want to make the trip. Along the way, we ran into another Reachlander party, led by my father, who had brought the things I had sent from Highgarden for my new home. When we finally arrived, Lord Tully was not there to meet us. Apparently his health was too poor to come out to greet his new guests. But Bran and Jon and Edric and Bran’s mother and sister were there meet us. After accepting bread and salt, we settled in and started with the final wedding arrangements that the Stark Ladies had not taken care of yet.

The Wedding would not be in the Sept. The local septon had raised objections to Bran and Edric because of their being known users of magic and to the presence of Lady Stark, because she was pregnant with an out-of-wedlock baby. Hoster Tully, in a rage had ordered the septon kicked out of his castle and the sept, closed. So we would be performing an Old Gods ceremony in the Gods’ Wood.

A lavish feast was in preparation and Sansa showed me the Tully Wedding Cloak she had made for her brother to place on me. It was blue with little fishes swimming between golden roses hand embroidered on it. The fishes were more that one color.

“Sansa did you make this yourself?” I asked.

“My mother help me with the colours and ideas, but I did all the sewing myself,” replied Sansa.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” I gushed, before changing tack. “Listen I need to ask you a favor.”

“Anything I can do to help, I would gladly do,” replied Sansa.

“I am little concerned about the bedding,” I admitted. “When the time comes I will try to make sure everyone is focused on me. While I am doing that, can you sneak Bran back to his room so he doesn’t have to be publicly stripped by a bunch of strange women?”

“But what about you?” asked Sansa.

“I’m a big girl,” I replied. “I can take a little public nudity, especially if my doing so spares Bran the same.”

“He’s lucky to have a betrothed like you,” said Sansa, I hope my betrothed is as noble as you.”

“Like perhaps, Ser Edric?” I teased. “I saw you two sneaking off together.”

“It’s not like that,” denied Sansa, with a blush. “He’s just teaching me magic.”

Teaching you magic? is that what they call it these days?” I teased her some more, before becoming more serious. “Look, he’s a good boy and a powerful magician. You should talk to your father about arranging a betrothal.”



EDRIC

Bran’s father was not here. Lord Tully was too sick. From talking to him, it sounded like Jon’s marriage in his previous life was not at all normal. So it fell to me to give Bran “the talk”. I sat him down and taught him all about the marriage bed and how to make it a positive experience for Margeary. Doing this was embarrassing for both of us. But it went a lot easier than it had for my sons in my previous life. But the bedding was the part that terrified him the most. I could offer him little help. Although the prospect of being stripped naked by a group of women excites me now, when I was his age, it would have terrified me.

When it came time for the actual wedding ceremony, Jon ended up leading the ritual. Bran’s father was not here and Lord Tully was too sick to attend. Neither Jon not Lady Stark were followers of the Old Gods, but Jon was able to play his part. Lord Tyrell was there to give her away. And Bran handed her Tryrell Cloak to me after removing it from his Bride. Then covered her in the cloak of House Tully. And with that, they were wed. People from all over the Riverlands had come to attend, too many people. It was difficult to get them out of the Gods’ Wood and into the Great Hall for the feast.


MARGAERY

The way the Riverlanders danced for the feast was a bit of a surprise. At Highgarden, I had never given the music and dance much thought. When we had feasts, the musicians would play this quiet slow music that was good for allowing conversation. If anyone danced to it, it was a sort of slow-motion square dance. This had changed a little, when songs began coming out of King’s Landing that Prince Joffrey had written before his exile. When I first arrived at King’s Landing, jazz was the music of the poor. The wealthy listened to musicians playing Prince Joffrey’s music. But then the King had commissioned the creation of that Big Jass Band, which people didn’t quite know how to dance to. But Jazz had been part of the Riverlands for years. And the Riverlanders liked to do a sort of round dance to it that was perfect for the sound. I may not know these exact steps, but it was pretty easy to pick up and ballroom dancing with one person was a skill I had acquired in my previous life.

So after a stumbling dance with with my father while we were still trying to figure out how to dance to this and a dance with my new husband, Bran, I danced with many of the men of the Riverlands. We danced and feasted until late into the night. I was dancing with Jon when he announced:

“I think the bedding is about to start.”

I turned to Sansa and jerked my head at Bran. She seemed to understand, because she took him by the hand and led him out of the hall. The jazz tune ended and the musicians started up with the Bear and the Maiden Fair.

“The Bedding!” shouted Black Walder Frey.

“Where’s the groom?” asked Ser Patrek Mallister.

“My Lord Husband already awaits me in our marriage bed!” I announced, as I strolled to the center of the room. “You’ll just have to make due with me!”

And so I let the crowd of men who swarmed to me rip the clothes off of me and lift me in the air. Some of them took the opportunity to grope me, which I permitted, and laughed like I was enjoying it. But when one of them tried reaching inside me, I broke his wrist with an akido hold. I have no idea who that was. Perhaps I will find out tomorrow morning when I see who has a broken wrist? They carried me naked to Bran’s room and thrust me in.

After making certain that the door was barred, I turned to Bran, my new husband . . . Bran was still fully dressed and was looking down in embarrassment at my nudity. But I could tell he was torn between wanting to preserve my modesty and wanting to see my body that I was revealing to him. I walked over to him and took his hands.

“Bran, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” I assured. “If you are not ready for this, no one needs to know but us. I will tell everyone we did it, and we can wait as long as you like.”

“No . . . I want this . . . I’m just afraid I won’t be good enough,” said Bran.

“Oh Bran, what ever you are willing to share with me will be enough,” I soothed. “You are my husband. We have a lifetime together. We will learn together how to enjoy our marriage bed.”

I pulled him into a kiss and felt him respond.


When I woke the next morning, I glanced over at the child sleeping next to me and felt dirty. I curled up for a moment in shame over what I had done last night and who I had done it with. He looks so young sleeping like that. I hadn’t been certain he would even be old enough for that until last night when he had risen to the occasion four times. But although he seemed, at the time, to be enjoying himself. I knew what I had done was wrong. I knew that before I had even come here and I did it anyway. And Lord Tully made me give myself to a child! I stealthily pulled on my clothes and stalked out of the room. I was going to give Hoster Tully a piece of my mind!


JON

Lady Stark and I were breaking our fast together when Margeary stomped through the room. I could see the anger on her face and that she was heading towards Lord Tully’s room.

“We need to stop her,” I said, as I offered Lady Stark a hand to rise from her chair. I helped her to walk as we followed after Margeary.

When Margaery kicked the door open, I could see that the maester was in there, attempting to feed Lord Tully.

“Alright, you bastard, it’s done!” yelled Margeary, as Lady Stark and I followed her into the room and shut the door behind us. “I’ve consummated the marriage, just like you ordered and with any luck, your great grandson is growing inside me right now!”

“I hope so,” replied Lord Tully, “I want to see my line continue before I die.”

“Margeary, I don’t understand the problem,” said Lady Stark.

“You don’t understand? You don’t understand!?! The problem is that this man made me fuck a child! He couldn’t wait for his grandson to grow up! No! It had to be now! And if I threatened to to wait for him to grow older, your father made it quite clear he’d just marry Bran off to someone one else, someone who was willing to rape your son!”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like- . . . Oh! Oh!” groaned Lady Stark. “The baby’s coming!”


After we helped Lady Stark to her room The Maester sent me out. Sansa was allowed to attend the birth, along with Margeary, but Bran and I, along with Edric had to wait. To keep us distracted, I had us sparing in the practice yard, the two of them against me. They were allowed to use magic, but I was allowed to use the Force too. I still had them outmatched. Magic might cause me pain, but the Force did the same to them. And the pain of the magics they were willing to use in a friendly spar were not debilitating for me. We had been at it for hours when Sansa came out to us, her dress covered in blood and tears running down her face.

“Bran . . . . Jon . . . You need to come . . . Our mother is dying!” sobbed Sansa.

When we arrived, she had been covered with a blanket that was soaked in blood. On her chest, she held the baby. She was very pale.

“I’ve done all I could, but the bleeding is just too severe,” said the Maester.

“Look. You have a sister,” mumbled Lady Stark.

“Aunt Caitlyn . . . Mother, can I hold her?” I asked.

“You called me mother!” mumbled my stepmother. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better mother to you.”

“Mother, you don’t have to keep apologizing for that,” I said as a took the baby from her arms.

“I have to do it now, while I am still able,” mumbled Lady Stark.

“Mother don’t die! I need you!” cried Bran.

“Hush, hush. You have Margeary now,” mumbled Lady Stark. “You don’t need me any more. She will take care of you.”

“Yes . . . Yes I will,” said Margeary, as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Edric! Do something!” yelled Bran, as he tore himself out of his wife’s arms.

“What?” asked Edric.

“Use your magic!” yelled Bran. “Make her better!”

“I’m sorry Bran,” replied Edric, mornfuly. “I don’t know much about healing magic. I’m better and defense against the dark arts.”

“Jon! You can do it! use the Force and save our mother!” pleaded Bran.

“I’m sorry Bran,” I said. “Believe me, I know just how you feel. My birth mother died just like this and I couldn’t do anything to to save her either. It’s her time to become one with the Force.

“Margeary! There must be something you can do with your plants!” begged Bran. “Please! She’s my mother!”

Margeary just looked down sadly at her husband until she got an intense look, then a hopeful look.

“Maybe . . .” said Margeary. “I’m not sure it will work and there isn’t much time. She’s already passed out from lack of blood.”

“Anything! just save her!” yelled Bran.

“Right,” said Margeary. “We need to get her to the Gods’ Wood fast! Can one of you levitate her, preferably upside down so we can preserve the blood in her brain?”

“I’ll do it,” said Edric, who drew his wand and made her arms and legs snap together before lifting her upside down.

The blanket fell off of her revealing her nudity. Sansa tried to wrap it back around her but Margeary scolded her:

“Don’t bother with that! There’s no time!”

And with that, they all ran out of the room, Edric using his magic to lift her and carry her along.

They had left me alone in the room holding my stepsister. Once the others were gone, I realized something . . . the Force! She was strong in the Force! Not on my level, but stronger than anyone I had ever met in this world. In my past life, she definitely would have qualified to be abducted from her parents and forced to go to the Jedi Temple for study!


EDRIC

Using my wand, I held Lady Stark aloft as we ran to the Gods’ Wood. She was upside down and the blood was still flowing out of her, leaving a trail. When we passed people they gaped and stared at the gruesome sight. When we got to the Gods’ Wood, Margeary directed me over to that enormous flower she had planted. After she had me bring Lady Stark in front of the plant, she had me turn her right side up. The flower bent over and engulfed Lady Stark before raising up with her inside its’ blossom. We all looked at it expectantly . . . but then the flower bent back over and dumped out the dead body of Lady Stark!

“Nooooo!!!!” cried Bran.