Riverlands - Riverrun

Catelyn could not believe that her wedding day had come so quickly. She felt it just yesterday she had met Brandon at the Tourney, and she couldn't help but feel that the little food she had eaten that morning was going to come out as soon as she had to words.

"Stop worrying so much," Shella sighed, stroking the young girl's arm.

Catelyn smiled at her, took her hand in her own and squeezed it. "Thank you for everything you have done. I'm afraid Lysa was too angry at me to even pretend to care and Lyanna though kind is useless with these things."

"Nonsense. Merida and I were glad of the distraction. But now, all I fear is your journey to Winterfell. It will be a long and lonely one. I don't know why Lord Brandon doesn't allow you to go to Storms End and Kingslanding with them," she sighed, feeling sorry for Catelyn.

Catelyn looked at her aunt as if to say really now? "Do you think I would miss an opportunity to attend two weddings of my good-sisters? No. I will convince him to take me. I know I can."

"Did you enjoy your breakfast? I didn't know that the Northern's could be so kind when gifting," Shella smiled.

Catelyn let out a snort. "Pelts are not kind aunt."

Shella scoffed at her niece. "Once you hit the Northern barrier, you'll wish you had more. Many, many more."

Catelyn shrugged her shoulders, "I'll get used to it."

"Like you were going to get used to the awful green dress you were planning on wearing? Honestly, it's a miracle I was here to save you from embarrassment."

"Shella!" Catelyn gasped.

Shella shrugged, not knowing what it was she said wrong. "You are a virgin. White, cream or ivory are the only colours I can allow you to wear."

"I still can't believe that Lysa would take your mothers jewellery," Lyanna laughed, mocking their gossiping tones as she walked into the room.

Catelyn shook her head at Lyanna. "We don't know she took them."

"They vanished the night before your wedding, she took them," Lyanna responded.

"Well I still have Brandon's crown," Catelyn smiled.

"Diadem. Call it crown and it will look like the Starks are wanting back their titles," Shella reminded her.

Lyanna sent a flat smile her way, after a short silence, she asked."When do you plan on changing into your dress? Brandon's wedding breakfast has just ended."

"I should change now I suppose." And as if on cue, her maids began to ready the room for her. The cream coloured dress and was sprayed with freshwater pearls and displays of flowers was exchanged for her day wear, her shoes for comfortable white slippers. Her long red hair was twisted into an elaborate style, and her veil was put into place with the diadem that Brandon had gifted her with the night before.

"Well that was quick," Lyanna said, her eyes wide.

"You don't know how many times we've practised," she mumbled. Her maids nodding along with her.

Lyanna pursed her lips. "I say this as a sister...but you're a little bit obsessive."

"I know," Catelyn sighed biting her lip. She fiddled with her pearl necklace around her neck and began pacing the room.

"Well, your father said he'd come and fetch you once the guests were in the Sept and the Septon has almost finished saying the first prayers with Brandon. He said something about not wanting you to wait outside in the cold air too long," Lyanna quoted. "We should probably go and change too." She said, indicating to Shella that now was a good time to leave Catelyn alone.

"You will be fine. It's what comes after the wedding day that's scary," Shella teased, following Lyanna out of the room.

...

As Lyanna had told her, Hoster came to Catelyn as soon as he heard the Septon near the end of his prayer with Brandon.

"Are you ready my love?" Hoster whispered, knocking on Catelyn's door carefully.

Catelyn pulled the door open and smiled at her father. "I have been for some time now."

Hoster smiled back, taking her hand and patting it gently. "As I suspected. Come now, the Septon is almost finished with Brandon."

Catelyn, however, didn't leave her room as Hoster nudged her hand to follow him. "Do I look alright father?" She asked, biting her lip nervously.

"I cannot believe that you need reassurance from me of all people. You look like the most beautiful bride that was, has been and will ever be," he said, bending down to place a small kiss on her forehead.

Catelyn felt her cheeks flush at her father's compliment. She had practised many times in stopping herself from letting a tear or two out, but that didn't mean that a few didn't run down her cheeks before she hand even built up the willpower to refuse them. She wiped her eyes quickly as her father silently led her to the Sept. "What about Brandon?" She asked.

Hoster let out a laugh. "Between you and me, he is as pale as a ghost and shaking like a leaf."

Brandon, who was sure that the Northern party had doubled since they had arrived, couldn't stop tapping his foot restlessly throughout the entire prayer. He didn't know he would feel this nervous doing something that he had prepared for since his birth, basically. Additionally, unlike his religion of simplicity, Catelyn's faith required hours of tedious prayers and rituals. Something he was willing to suffer through to be able to leave Riverrun as soon as possible and return home with his family neatly and swiftly.

When he walked into the Sept, Brandon had to blink a few times to make sure that he wasn't still asleep. The Sept was a seven-sided sandstone building behind the Minisa gardens that he walked through not a few days ago. He still wasn't sure how he had missed such a creation. Inside the Sept were images of the Seven on marble and the ceiling was made entirely of glass, allowing a rainbow of light to fill the Sept.

The Septon ended his prayer with a mummer and as if on note, the double doors opened to allow Catelyn and her father inside. It was evident that Hoster had said some heartfelt words, for, behind her veil, Brandon could see Catelyn's cheeks gleaming red. It was as if everyone in the Sept had let out a breath they were all holding. Perhaps it was the fact that they were attending the heir to Winterfell's wedding, something many would not forget. Even those who watched on from the gallery of the Sept.

Brandon, who was stood between the Mother and Father in front of the Sept, took Catelyn's hand and helped her up the stairs. Hoster nodded to him and stood to her left. It took his whole being to keep from letting out a laugh of excitement. For all the times he had neglected her beauty and disallowed himself the love she was willing to offer, today she proved him wrong. Her dress, white and adorned with pearls flowed behind her. The Tully coat she wore hid the beauty of her body, but Brandon would still admire.

Catelyn, who held been practically dragged up the aisle by her father, smiled at Brandon as he took the veil that concealed her nervous face. He smiled back down at her, proud she had decided to neglect any jewellery but the diadem he had given her the night before. Though out of exaggeration she had not permitted him to see her and forced him to leave the box outside her room. She would have to thank him greatly for such a gift for it made up for the lack of jewellery she wore. He did not know if it was the day or the setting, but she seemed to shine. As if she were the sun, and if he looked away her light would still blind him. Catelyn beamed at him and whispered a small hello and they turned to the Septon.

As he continued to recite prayers from the holy text, the Seven-Pointed Star, Brandon could not help but flicker his eyes over to Catelyn occasionally. Every time he would, Catelyn would catch him staring and tut at him playfully.

The Septon lifted his hand over them and announced, "you may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." Brandon untied her Tully robe and handed it to her father, proceeded to untie his own and covered her with the much larger heavier Stark coat. His father had told him not to show it on his face, but he wanted to boast to the entire Sept. The Septon nodded his head smiling. "We now stand here in the sight of the gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one soul, now and forever." He instructed them to hold hands, Brandon allowing her to place her delicate hand on top of his larger ones. The Septon pulled a piece of cloth from his book, placed the book on a stand and began to tie a knot around their hands, joining them tightly. "Let it be known that Lord Brandon of House Stark and Lady Catelyn of House Tully are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who should seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." He unravelled the cloth and said, "look upon each other and say the words."

They both turned to each other, Brandon looking down and Catelyn looking up. Simultaneously they began to speak.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Strangers."

"I am his and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days," Catelyn smiled, sure that his voice faded her own.

"I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days. With this kiss, I pledge my love."

And for the first ever time, the moment that she had been waiting for since she would walk and talk, Brandon pulled her close by the back of her neck and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. There were outbursts of glee as guests around the Sept applauded and cheered for the young couple. All but one guest, Petyr, who stood from the gallery and watched solemnly. Brandon, as if noticing one unhappy face staring down at them looked up at Petyr and sent an unruly glare at him. Petyr, in turn, brought his hands together once and then turned back around to leave the Sept before the happy couple did.

...

The wedding celebrations began as soon as the ceremony was finished, with Brandon and Catelyn leading the way to the Great Hall for the feast. It had been seat up, similar to the Sept, with purple flowers hanging from the ceilings. Dissimilar to the meals that they had in the hall during their stay and the feats at Harrenhal however, Riverrun's Great Hall now seemed much lighter.

It may have been because of the endless music that was playing, or the wine and ale that the servants hadn't stopped refilling or the way that Catelyn looked under the candlelight. Brandon did not mind however, his life, for the briefest moment, was perfect. He refused himself the luxury of thinking of his sister's predicament, his father's helplessness in the situation and how the Royal family would respond to Harrenhal.

"Will you be this intent on fading in and out of reality during our whole marriage?" Catelyn asked, clicking her fingers in front of Brandon's dazed eyes. Either the alcohol was too strong or Brandon had a tendency to flutter into his own world now and then, and Catelyn hoped it was the latter.

Brandon grabbed her wrist and gave her a playful smile. "You dare interrupt my daydream?"

"Depending on what it was about, I'm not sorry," she said, bringing her silver wine cup to her lips with her free hand.

Brandon smiled, looked around to make sure no one important had their eyes on them and brought her hand to his lips taking small bites here and there. "You shouldn't be." And he brought his head closer to her ear. "Just as I won't be tonight."

She felt her heart jump, almost as if it wanted to leave through her throat and never return. "You shouldn't say such things," she muttered feeling her face heat up.

"Why not?" Brandon frowned. "We are husband and wife, surely people cannot turn that into a negative."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Catelyn whispered looking down at Petyr, who was sat next to her sister and was looking intently at their table.

Petyr nudged Lysa and pointed his head to the high table, where Catelyn was seated next to Brandon and their fathers.

"What is it?" Lysa snapped, angry that he had interrupted her flirtatious conversation with a certain Tytos Blackwood.

Petyr shook his head at Lysa. "He's married?"

Lysa shrugged her shoulders. "If the Prince can have two wives, why can't Tytos?" she said, turning to take a glance at Tytos, who had started a conversation with another Lord. "Besides, I hear he is close friends with the Starks, maybe Catelyn and I won't be separated too long after all."

Petyr looked at Lysa as if waiting for her to realise what she had just said. "What?"

Lysa blinked back at him, realizing she had just let slip a secret most of the kingdom didn't even know yet. "What?"

"What?" Petyr blinked back. "What the seven hells did you just say?"

Lysa rolled her eyes. "It's not as if it's unusual, I don't know why you're being so dramatic. Can't we just be happy for Cat today and keep your fake schemes for another time."

Petyr, who was used to Lysa's outbursts of unkind words tutted at her and brought his hand to her hair. "Lysa. Why would I care about Cat when I have you right in front of me?" He queered.

Lysa sighed and placed her hand on Petyr's. "I'm sorry, it's been a stressful few days."

Petyr nodded his head. "For everyone I presume." He poured a glass of wine and slid it over to her. "Now are you going to let me in on this little secret of the Prince's?"

Lysa scoffed and rolled her eyes, taking a long swing of the wine. "No secret for long. He's getting married to that bastard. It could've been anyone. You know, Cersei swore that it would be her he would marry-," she let out a loud laugh, "jokes on her. She's been tossed for a bastard. Can you believe it? I would slit my own wrists."

Petyr looked at her as if to ask too much? "Has a bastard from their bloodline been found? Finally, then?" Petyr asked.

Lysa nodded her head. "I heard Brandon say it yesterday. He found out that his 'bastard sister' was adopted from the Free Cities. I thought about it and thought she was one of the lost females from House Blackfyre you know, after the Ninepenny thing. But then I thought about it some more, how can she be Dornish and a Blackfyre. Impossible. So, I rounded up that she's probably just a whore's daughter who was lucky enough to be bedded by a man who held the trait of purple eyes. Much like the Dayne's," Lysa babbled. A trait that came with too much wine.

A blessing and a curse, Petyr thought to himself. He turned back to Lysa, who had already reattached herself in conversation with Tytos. "And you're certain that you heard Brandon Stark say she was from the Free Cities?" he asked her, stressing his words and looking to Lysa intently.

Lysa turned around and nodded her head quickly, "and his father didn't deny it."

Petyr bit his lip as he lifted his knife and began poking the pigeon pie that was on his plate. His birds in Kingslanding would surely thank him for such useful information. He might even get invited to court, a step up from following Hoster around all day and Lysa all night.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder tap him, turning around he saw Catelyn and Brandon looking down on him. "What are you scheming about?" Brandon asked, his tone hostile.

"A man cannot think alone?" Petyr responded, smiling at Brandon.

Brandon scoffed. "A boy cannot think alone, I'm sure you mean." Forcing Petyr to turn an ugly shade of red.

Catelyn glared at Brandon and turned back to Petyr. "We only came to speak to our guests and ask if they were happy. Please don't be too lonely tonight Petyr," Catelyn smiled patting his shoulder.

Petyr smiled back at her and placed a hand on Lysa's thigh. "I assure you, I will be far from it." Catelyn nodded her head uncomfortably as she continued greeting the guests that were lined up on his table. Many standing to congratulate her, many were drunk and eager to meet the bride. Petyr looked up at Brandon once more. "Your dear sister couldn't join us tonight?" He mocked, pouting.

Brandon, ill-tempered and hot-headed as he was, grabbed Petyr by the collar of his neck and dragged him outside. To many, the sight would look as if the new husband of a Tully was putting a drunken Petyr to bed. Once they had stepped outside to the cool air, Brandon pushed Petyr up against the wall by his chest. "Say it once more, like the man you are."

Petyr held Brandon's hand by his own, trying to free himself. "You know me better Brandon Stark."

"Lord Brandon Stark, to you."

"Lord Petyr Baelish, to you."

Brandon let out a scoff, "you hold a farmhouse as a holdfast."

Petyr tilted his head, "I didn't know the Starks were ones for material discrimination."

Brandon let out an angry huff and pushed Petyr to the wall harder. "For the time that she is here, you stay away from Catelyn do you hear me?"

"She is already your wife, you have won," Petyr shrugged, unfazed by Brandon's anger.

"And you keep your tongue quiet about my sister, understood?"

"Which one? The bastard or the boy dressed as a lad-," before he could finish his sentence, however, Brandon had thrown his fist to his left eye. Petyr felt pain rush from cheek to his eye and then his vision lessen, as blood began to rush around it. He felt another punch, this time in his stomach, a small portion of the meal that he had eaten coming up and spilling onto the floor.

"If only you were as strong as your tongue," Brandon whispered letting go of Petyr and walking back into the Hall as if nothing had happened.

Petyr held his stomach tightly, thought about returning to the hall and calling Brandon out, but convinced himself to trudge to his room and wait for Lysa to come up once the celebrations were finished.

Brandon wiped his bruised hand on his tunic and made his way back to the high table, where Catelyn had been patiently waiting for him. "Is Petyr alright?" She asked, taking his hand in hers once he was seated. Brandon, not a liar by nature, looked to his knuckles as if waiting for her to figure out the events. Catelyn let go of his hand and glared at him.

"He pushed me too far," he mused, reaching for her hand, which she snatched away.

"He is my closest friend," she whispered back. "I know he can push your patience at times but really Brandon."

Brandon smiled at her. "You don't think they call me the Wild Wolf for the fun of it, do you?" Catelyn looked at him with fearful eyes, unsure what he was insinuating with that statement. Brandon let his hand lightly brush her cheek. "I would never hurt you."

"Stop being so touchy," Lyanna said from behind them swatting away Brandon's hand. "Congratulations again brother, and sister," she smiled giving them both a kiss on the cheek. Brandon had never seen his sister so kind, but he wouldn't complain about it anytime soon.

"Thank you, Lyanna, for everything you've done," Catelyn beamed.

"Yes congratulations, though I don't think there is much I can say I haven't already said," Rickard sighed from next to Brandon.

"Father we know you aren't exactly the...expressive type," Lyanna joked.