Game of Thrones || The Sword of the Morning

The North Remebers

~~Arlene of Riverrun~~

The poor girl from the Riverlands, a minor House she has since tried to forget it's name. The faces of those that carried her family name. Now she's stuck in a place that might as well be a thousand miles away from her home in Riverrun.

The Twins crossing the Trident River.

The poor girl went to a certain wedding that took place there. She went there with her family, her father being a commander in the Young Wolf's army back when he had an army.

And his life.

But since the night of the slaughter, nightmares of the horrors she saw plague her mind every waking moment. From watching Robb Staek get paraded around with his own direwolf's head sown onto his shoulders, watching her mother be raped and her throat cut, to watching her father be flayed alive by Roose Boltons men.

Arlene of Riverrun wishes she could forget it all.

The sounds of celebration ring in the great hall of the Twins. The same hall where Lord Walder Frey hosted Robb Stark's Northern army and himself. Evelyn Dayne was even there, she recalls. The same Evelyn Dayne whom her father would tell stories of. Stories of triumph and victory, of sacrifice and valor.

But those tales are all they are now. Just tales.

She glances around the room, waiting to serve wine to anyone who might need it. The spoils of the War of the Five Kings, or, more specifically, the Red Wedding, aline the walls. Swords and shields still marked with blood hang on the wall. Crossbow bolts that were logged in Robb Stark and even his longsword hand on the s.

A cup bangs on the table and everyone sees it's Walder Frey himself gaining everyone's attention. All of his son's attentions.

"Everyone!"

The old man says loudly.

"You're wondering why I brought you all here? After all, we just had a damn feast. Since when has old Walder given us two feasts in a single forenight?"

The sons and guests of Walder Frey laugh as the old man cackles slightly.

"Well, it's no good being Lord of the Riverlands if you can't celebrate with your family. That's That's I say!"

His sons raise their glasses in the air and cheer a little as Walder Frey smiles a little bit.

"I've gathered every Frey that means a damn thing to me here tonight so that we can discuss the plans of this Great House! But first...a toast!"

Walder Frey looks to Arlene and her posture stiffens as he snaps his fingers, motioning to the crowd of men and she nods diligently, bringing out the Arbor Gold and pours it into dozens of cups throughout the room.

"None of that Dornish horse piss they call wine. This is the finest of Arbor Gold. Proper wine for proper heros!"

Arlene finishes her duties and returns to Walder Frey's side, posture stiff as a board as she tries to avoid the attention of the old creep as much as she can. But the temptation of the cup of wine in front of her is too much as she tries to take a sip.

"Not you."

Walder snaps at her.

"I'm not wasting good wine I'm some damn girl. Finishes your duties in the kitchens and piss off."