Wolf Takes All || baadbaarbie & HoldTheDoor

[luminesse]

“No, no… wear that one. With a flower in your hair!” Never in her life had Liliyana seen such a flurry of activity in the Twins. Her sisters, cousins, and aunts all swirled around her eagerly, tearing apart their wardrobes to find the perfect dress. They were to prepare for a king’s arrival and by now it was well known that one of them was meant to wed the newly crowned King in the North before he turned for the Lannisters further south. It was only a matter of which one.

The prettiest had been all but hen-picked already, the wisest plain of face, and the rest—well, the rest were no less beloved to Liliyana, in any case. Each and every one of the Frey girls had their charms, despite what the rest of Westeros was so keen to say about them. It was no rumor that Grandfather had whittled it down to all but two of his granddaughters… it was none other than Liliyana and her half-sister Roslin who were meant to be introduced to the king upon his arrival that evening.

For all their part, neither one of them were less hopeful for the other, helping one another to pick out the perfect dress. Roslin looked pretty in white—if a bit girlish, with her hair down from her plaits—sat on the edge of one of their less-than-plush beds as she brushed the shine back into Liliyana’s freshly washed hair. “You know he’ll pick you, don’t you, sissy?” Roslin asked softly, leaning over Liliyana’s shoulder. “You’re older.”

“By scarcely a year!”

Roslin frowned. “And he…” She didn’t have to finish. Lily knew that her Lord Grandfather didn’t want to look at her for any longer than he had to. Roslin and Lily had shared the same father, and where Grandfather had been rather fond of Roslin’s mother, the same could not be said of Liliyana’s. “Well, he’ll pick you.”

“Don’t say that, Ros.” Lily reached a hand up, taking her sister’s delicate hand in her own. “You couldn’t possibly know.”

“But I do.” Despite the melancholy that tugged at Roslin’s sweet, soft voice, a smile begun to tease at the corner of her mouth. “Besides, if you do marry him, I don’t have to worry about a thing. I know you’ll find me a proper husband once you’re queen.”

Lily lifted Roslin’s hand to her mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I would do anything for you, sissy.”

Their flurry was paused by the rough rap of knuckles on the other side of the bedroom door. Quickly, each of the ladies leaned over to blow out candles and douse the torches before it could be opened. It was nearly time; what with the sun slowly sinking behind the cracked glass panel in the window, they should have known the King was due at their gate any minute. One by one, they piled out, hushed even despite their excitement.

Lord Frey waited for them already in the Great Hall, his wife perched upon his knee. The poor thing shook like a leaf, but it was not their place to save her. They fled to their seats as quickly as possible, not looking to incur their patriarch’s wrath. Liliyana was among them, head bowed as she climbed the stairs after her sister. “Child.” Her grandfather’s voice broke clear, despite the crackle in his throat. Each of the women paused until a great, spindly finger was leveled in Liliyana’s direction.

“Yes, you girl. Come here.” Lord Frey crooked his finger before shoving his young wife from his lap. “Closer… closer still. Don’t you know I have old eyes, girl?” Liliyana was not eager, but she stepped quickly up to her grandfather, eyes leveled at the ground in his feet. She couldn’t think of the last time this room had been dusted. They hadn’t been able to afford it in so long… “Ah, looking so like your mother, even now. Brianel… she was pretty too, but had a looser tongue. Thank the gods you inherited your father’s wit and your mother’s face.”

Liliyana curtseyed, but she dared not look up for fear of what he might say when she did. “Twirl for me.” Self consciously, she spun, fixing her dress as she did so. “Yes…. yes, it’ll do. Enough to please that Robb Stark, do you think?”

“I-… I don’t know, my Lord.”

“Well, if he doesn’t like you, he can have any of the rest of them, for all I care. Or all of them. But you—” That same spindly, shaking finger pointed in her direction again before sinking to direct her to his side. “you will stand here, and we will see if we cannot convince him that you should be his first pick.” Liliyana curtseyed once more before moving to stand at her grandfather’s side. She cast his wife—a girl not much younger than her—a sympathetic glance before lifting her gaze to the great mahogany doors at the other end of the hall.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Let the wolves loose!” Lord Frey called with a sweeping wave of his hand.

 

[HoldTheDoor]

Robb Stark was well aware of the rumours surrounding the girls of the Twins. Some said they were a withered and ugly as the man who was their ruler, others were a little more generous in their appraisal yet none had ever said their existed a Frey that was fit for a king. Whilst Robb didnt usually go with the word of the common tavern goer, surely that many people couldn't be wrong? If it wasn't for the strategic location and the need to pass the Twins without trouble, or the men that Walder had promised him, Robb wouldn't of been about to take a Frey's hand in marriage. He had proven many times in this campaign that he would do whatever it took to see the Northern houses restored to their proper standing and his father avenged. That's why he had been proclaimed King of the North by his men, if there was one thing his father had taught him it was honour and loyalty served a man well. Robb tread the path more lightly than his late father, after all it was his honour that had landed his head on a spike in King's Landing.

They had arrived at the Twins a few hours before sundown, but it took time to set up a camp for the amount of men that now followed his cause. Once the tents had been set up and the food and drink were flowing, Robb and a trusted group of his close advisors had mounted their horses and made for the castle. Caitlyn had joined them, as a sound advisor and the only family that remained with him on this trip he saw no reason to reject her company. As they approached the castle, squires presented themselves to take charge of the horses and ensure they were well fed and cared for. Their travelling cloaks and furs also taken to be kept safe, dry and warm. Another young squire presented himself to them.

"King of the North, Lord Frey has instructed me to bring you to throne room at once. He sees no reason to delay when an evening of good food and drink waits." The squire spoke low, bowing his head even lower in a sign of respect.

"Well on that I would confer with Lord Frey, do as he has bid and take us to the throne room young squire." Robb retorted, his deep voice filled with northern dialect. At once they followed the young squire into the castle, luckily the Twins wasn't a major kingdom and its castle reflected that. Before too long they had arrived at a pair of great wooden doors, the squire asking them to wait before he departed to inform his Lord of their arrival. Only a few moments later the doors swung open and light flooded the hallway they were in. After a few moments to gather his bearings Rob strode forward.

"I thank your house for your hospitality. I'm sure you're aware a Northerner values honour and curtesy in these troubling times." Robb spoke loudly, his powerful voice travelling across the hall perfectly. "I share your desire to not waste time that could be better spent. For this evening there is much to be discussed, ale to be drunk and families to be joined." Robb continued, making it clear he had remembered what he had promised and he was here to fulfill that. His keen eyes scanned the throne room, yet they kept coming back to one woman. She stood next to her Lord, but she was far more beautiful than any Frey girl could possibly be. He tried to make sure his eyes didn't linger on her, but he struggled, completely ensnared by her the beauty her face possessed and the curves of her body so well displayed in that dress.

Robb walked the floor leading to the throne slowly, allowing all assembled to see him in his full glory. His furs and armor shining in the fire light as he strode to the throne, his body broad and powerful. He could of commanded the heart of most women in the realm, but he was promised to choose one of Frey's girl, if that was to be his fate he would at least make sure good stories were told of this day.

As Robb approached the throne he knelt on one knee and lowered his head. He claimed to be king of his own lands, not of any others. "My Lord, I've come as you asked. So let me ask, bluntly and honestly, which woman do you wish to be my betrothed? Or if by your grace you allow me a choice, who is eligible for my hand?" Robb questioned, raising his head as he studied Walder before rising to his feet. He had extended all of the needed respect and curtesy, now it was time for the business and politics that accompanied these kind of meetings.

 

[luminesse]

Liliyana had never seen a king before, but even in the din of the poorly lit throne room she recognized him immediately as he strode through the doors. Robb Stark needed no crown to make his presence known. She knew all too well from the tales what he looked like; he favored his Tully mother, a young man with a strongly cut jaw, deep blue eyes, and tawny curls. It was just as easy to pick Lady Catelyn from the crowd, what with her long red hair and proud Tully face. Grandfather had never had anything kind to say about the Lady Stark.

He even spoke like a true king, eloquent and commanding despite the fact that this was not his castle and these were not yet his people. Lily’s gaze flickered to her sister before settling back on the King in the North.

“Is that what the North values?” Lord Frey spoke, clearing his throat with a gargling laugh. “You wasted my time already. I was beginning to think you were avoiding us, what with your lengthy foray through the Riverlands… Your Grace.” Lily watched as Lady Catelyn’s brow furrowed at her grandfather’s accusation. Beside her, a man dressed in all black tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword. Where once the room had been drawn with excitement, her father had assured that it was fraught with tension once more.

Despite her Grandfather’s fickle commentary, the King approached, kneeling before them. His armor shone the scant light that caught it, dancing off of the furs sat proudly on his shoulders. “I had promised any one of my girls, Your Grace.” Lord Frey answered smugly as he reached out behind Liliyana’s back. With a less-than-gentle push, Liliyana was shoved forward, skittering to catch her balance before she was thrown over the lip of the stairs and onto her face before the King. “But you seem to value this one just fine.”

Lily met the King’s eye for the first time, but her gaze quickly fell as she gathered her skirts and dropped into a low curtsey. “Your Grace,”

“My granddaughter, Liliyana Philomena.” His face twisted at his repetition of the flowery name. He had never been fond of it. “They call her a songbird, though I’ve never heard a peep out of her.” It was the truth. She sang often in the Sept—well, as often as they were allowed to attend anyways. “She is of a good age to bear sons, provided you don’t break her first.” She did not turn to see her grandfather licking his lips. “But if she does not please you, there are others. It is no matter to me which you pick. Just that you do.”

 

[HoldTheDoor]

Walder Frey was famed for his sharp tongue and the way he threw subtle, and not so subtle, insults around his hall. Tonight he was staying true to form. His mother had warned Robb about the snarling old man that had almost decayed into the throne he sat on. He may look frail and old but he still had power running through his blood and a innate knowledge of how to play the political games that had left him largely untroubled in his throne. He was a man not to be crossed, known for pursuing his enemies with a ruthless tenacity.

As the girl was pushed forward Robb got his first look at her from close up. He could tell by the way she quickly averted her eyes that she was shy and cautious. He valued that quality, a woman with a quick tongue behind closed doors was more than welcome but a king needed a queen who understood the obligations of the court. Her curtsy, deep and low showing him a level of respect that spoke volumes of how she would uphold herself in wedlock, contorted her body in a way that only showed off her elegant curves mor prominently.

He was lucky that he and Walder weren't currently sat at the negotiating table and that the end of deal that benefited him had already been achieved. If it hadn't Lord Frey would of certainly taken advantage of how besotted the young king was with this girl.

"Lord Frey, you've done well to keep her hidden and away from prying eyes. None of the stories I've heard in the taverns of your kingdom have spoke of her beauty. And yet perhaps they should of." Robb spoke softly and eloquently, yet his northern tone still rung true. He looked at Lily as he spoke the compliment that was aimed at her, appraising her beauty and her body one last time. He had briefly scanned the other women behind her, but his instincts were strong and they hadn't led him wrong to this point and he doubted this would be the point where they let him down.

"My mind is made up, I'm sure you've heard of the stubbornness of the north Lord Frey so know there is little that could deter me. I'll take Liliyana, she looks of perfect birthing age and certainly from what the dress allows me to see she looks like she carry my child well." Robb said, knowing Walder and some of the men in the court would enjoy the slightly bawdy comment about her birthing hips.

"I would wed her no sooner than you can make the preparations Lord Frey, I'm eager for the beginning of married life as I'm sure most men my age would. Life is fickle and Winterfell needs an heir." Robb spoke and spoke bluntly, it was the easiest way to talk to Walder Frey.

 

[luminesse]

“I know I may look senile to you, King in the North, but if old age has taught me anything, it’s to keep my treasures tucked away from thieving eyes. What good fortune for you.” Walder deadpanned. Lily rose from her curtsey as her grandfather spoke, eyes cast still at the ground. “They are so rare in this family I cannot think to parade them all about. Look what use she is to you now.” To be frank, the entire lot of them were unused to being complimented, but they knew which few among them were pretty and which were not.

A blush blossomed across the bridge of Liliyana’s freckled nose at the King’s comment. She was not unused to being the subject of crude conversation, but she was certainly unused to being it’s subject in a room full of men. She fought the urge to curl her hands around herself, suddenly regretting—and, at once, thanking the Gods—that she had chosen such a dress. She felt like little more than cattle being auctioned off, but then again… there were worse men than kings to marry.

“Life is fickle. I imagine you’re more desperate for an heir than you have ever been, considering your Winterfell is a few short.” A hush quickly fell over the room. Seven bless those two little boys. The only one who seemed not to care if he gave offense at their mention was Walder Frey. “My deepest sympathies, Your Grace.” It sounded more sincere than it likely was. Lily didn’t doubt the only child he was worried about now was the one that she would bear.

“What say you, girl? There is a dress, is there not?” Walder leveled his gaze at Liliyana. She nodded. There was a dress, but she hadn’t the faintest idea whether or not it would fit her. She knew there to be a veil only because she had done the embroidery herself. “I say there could be a wedding tonight, if Your Grace is so eager. By morning you will be man and wife if that is your will.”

By tomorrow, she would be a Queen. Liliyana’s heart seized in her throat as she awaited the King’s answer. That morning she hadn’t even known if she was to be a bride. Now the world had turned entirely upside down. “I-if that would please Your Grace.” Lily echoed, finally looking up to meet him in the eye now that her blush had subsided.

 

[HoldTheDoor]

The full power of Robb's gaze fell upon Walder Frey as he seemingly mocked the lack of heirs at Winterfell. A lesser man would of already felt their head separate from their shoulders to fall down the steps upon which the throne was built. For now it was wise to let the comment go unchecked.

"Your sympathy is welcomed, Winterfell will have it's heirs soon enough I assure you. Instead of inheriting just a part of the seven kingdoms they will be inheriting their own throne and rule over a kingdom of their own. I'm sure we can drink to that tonight." Robb spoke calmly, his words making it very clear the conviction he had in his plans to make the north an autonomous power.

Robb couldn't help but smile at the blush that played across her face, if they were truly to be wed tonight and a consummated man and wife by morning it wouldn't be the last time she blushed that night. After all if a comment put colour in her cheeks, he wondered how she might react to man on top of her. He smiled warmly at her as she finally rose her eyes to his own, asking so sweetly if he would be pleased to take her as his wife. He had to admit he held slim hope of walking from these walls with a wife to be proud of, yet here he was staring into the eyes of a beautiful girl that any man in the kingdoms could be proud of.

"That would please me greatly, I'm sure a fair maiden such as yourself will temper my northern steel in the best way." Robb spoke softly, smiling not only with his lips but with his eyes. A connection extending between them, a tension for the coming night and what it held for them.

"So Lord Frey, you have my choice and I have your word to wed us tonight. It would seem we have much to accomplish before we join our great houses tonight. Tell me how long the preparations will take and how many of my men you need and I'll see it done. After all it's only fitting that I prepare myself too. She is marrying a king, not a mud stained warrior." Robb orated, the whole room able to hear the exchange between them now as he turned his gaze to the old man in his throne. Robb waited for his answer patiently, no matter how eager he was to set things in motion.

 

[luminesse]

It would be no grand wedding. It was too late in the summer for lots of flowers to be summoned from the fields just beyond the walls, and too soon a wedding to have them sent from the reach. They would have to settle for the candles and the banners, as it were. Lily knew there was a feast being prepared; there was perhaps even enough time for pigeon pie, if they were to instruct the kitchen directly after the gathering broke.

Lord Frey sat back in his throne as he pondered the time the preparations would require, stroking his unshaven chin. “I say we give the ladies until the moon is halfway risen to do whatever it is they do. Enough so at least you will be able to enjoy what little time you have left as an unmarried man, Your Grace.” There was no denying the suggestion in Lord Frey’s tone. How marvelous it would have been to have a Prince and a King’s bastard all in the same family. “Then… then we will drink!”

A raucous noise consumed the hall as men raised their fists in a cheer. Lily smiled politely at her husband-to-be, folding her hands in front of herself as the resounding fanfare settled. When they met next, it would be at the end of an aisle, where they would proclaim their vows before the Seven before they even got to know each other. It was a daunting prospect. Lily would have at least liked to have the chance to sit down and speak at length before tying herself to him for all eternity.

But there would be time.

She curtseyed to the King once more. “Until tonight, Your Grace.” There was so much to be done. They would have to prepare the Great Hall, and she would need another scrubbing down. She was clean, but not quite as clean as a queen ought to be. Perhaps she would be able to acquire enough wildflowers to weave into her hair, if not enough to make for an arrangement. Winter loomed so heavily on them now that it was unlikely.

At the very least, the promise of a wedding brought some joy to the Twins. It was so dark and dank most of the time that nobody ever considered happiness, and Lord Frey’s numerous weddings had lost their charm the more they continued and the more outrageous they became. The idea that one of their own would become a queen in their very own walls was no doubt the first event of any worth taking place in nearly decades, if not over a century of their history.

Lily was quickly ushered out of the throne room, given only the briefest of moments to appraise her future husband up close before her sisters and aunts had taken her by the arm and led her down the stairs. She was lucky—so beyond lucky—to have been granted such a prospect. He was a fit lad, and he looked very much like he knew what to do with a woman. There was no way a man with such a face wouldn’t know what should be done with a woman.

Liliyana had never even been so much as kissed. She prayed he knew what should be done with a woman, or else the both of them would have quite a time trying to conceive an heir.

She was briefed on what was to be expected of her as she was lead to a bath, undressed and scrubbed by what seemed like a hundred hands. She felt like silver, meant to be polished a thousand times over before she was presented. They dabbed perfume on her neck, on her décolletage, her ribs, even between her thighs before they dressed her once more. This time she wore ribboned stockings and satin slippers, her underdress a wispy sheathe of pale peach chiffon. She knew it only to be kept tucked away for the lucky one of them who would be queen.
Because the dress fit so loosely, they stitched her into it, beginning only after they had laced her into a corset. As the women worked to fit her dress properly, Roslin arranged her hair, scenting it with lavender just the same. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten so much attention in my life.” Liliyana confessed, barely able to see herself in the one ruddy, cracked mirror in the room. She had shared a bed with nearly six other girls ranging in age from six to forty six her entire life, and she had always been surrounded by hands, but not many had ever pampered her.

“Well,” Roslin chided gently as she pressed another brass pin into Liliyana’s golden curls. “you’ll certainly have to get used to it now. Now you’ll never have a private moment again.”

Liliyana shrugged and smiled. “I’ve certainly never had one before. Just a few more people will be looking now.” She wouldn’t mind the chance to dress in finer fabrics, to wear pretty jewelry. However, she was used to wool and cotton… and she would never forget from whence she came.

“Do you think,” asked one of her littler cousins. “you’ll get to wear a crown?”

“Someday, I imagine.” Lily answered. “Though perhaps not today. I cannot imagine His Grace has a crown at the ready.” It was never the crown that Lily had been after in the first place. The promise of a good marriage was enough. Perhaps once she was established, she would be able to improve matters for those she loved most. House Frey had been bled dry so very long enough, weary from a long and exhausting rule. Once she had power over her grandfather, she might be able to see its’ restoration to glory.

“There, now.” Her aunt said as as everyone stepped back from the fully dressed bride. “Don’t you look lovely?” Lily so wished she could have seen. “The King is a lucky man.” Murmurs of agreement filled the poorly lit suite. Thankfully, some of the little girls had been able to gather enough flowers for a proper bouquet (likely only because they knew it would end up back in their hands before the end of the night). She was to be a proper bride, through and through. A proper queen, however… that would take time.

Now all that was left to do was wait.