Til Death Do Us Part...

Wedding Day 1

For the first time ever since she woke up at five this morning she was alone. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her golden blond hair curled around her face. Her bright blue eyes were almost popping out of her head, thanks to the mascara and gorgeous eye make up she was wearing. Her bright red lips were gleaming in the early morning sun. The moment her eyes rested on the white and blue flowers in her hair she felt the tears burning in her eyes.

This was supposed to be the most beautiful day of her entire life. This was the day she had always dreamed of. This was the day she had fantasized about ever since she had heard it existed. But now it was finally here she didn't feel as euphoric as she had wanted to feel.

"Ilva?" Sansa opened the door to Ilva's bedroom. "Come on! Let me have a look at you!" She crossed her arms over her chest and waited until Ilva stood up from her seat.

Ilva's bedroom had not changed ever since she had left the house. The posters of cyclists were still covering the wooden walls. Most of the men on the pictures had quit cycling years ago already. A lot of them had admitted that they had won quite a few races with the help of doping.

She remembered how she had watched each and every race when she could. She had rushed home after work, behind the cash deck in a local supermarket, to catch the finish of a mountain stage in the Tour the France more than once. And if she had had a smartphone at the time, she would have for sure used it to keep an eye on live streams during class.

In between the cyclists were posters of book quotes. Her bookshelves were mostly empty now. Which couldn't be said about the shelves in her own house. On the bed, with two pillows because she couldn't sleep on only one, laid a stuffed grey wolf.

Ilva caught Sansa following her glance and Sansa swallowed while she tried to turn her head away from the little animal again. "Turn around!" She forced herself to keep on smiling and Ilva did what she was told.

She twirled around. Her white dress came straight out of those fairytale books she used to read when she was younger, when she had still believed in them. The wide skirt barely fit through the door but it waved wonderfully when she moved. The bodice was covered in small blue flowers, reflections of the ones she wore in her hair. The small sleeves were crafted of flowered lace. The silver wolf around her neck dangled against her skin when she stood still again.

"You look wonderful..." Sansa placed her hands on Ilva's shoulders. Her skin was glowing and Ilva didn't dare to look at her future sister in law.

She didn't want to risk ruining her make up because she would start crying.

"Jon is gonna love it." Sansa stepped back and she nodded, as if she had to emphasize her words somehow even though her voice didn't allow her to do so. "You look breathtaking beautiful."

"I know..." Ilva whispered and instinctively her hand touched the silver wolf around her neck. "I'm sure he'll look good in a suit too." She licked her dry lips and fought the urge to touch her face. "I hope he's not as nervous as I am." Ilva giggled, although she didn't know why.

"Trust me, Jon is much more nervous than you'll ever be." Sansa grinned and the tension in her shoulders slowly disappeared. "He never thought he'd marry and somehow I think he's still afraid that he'll mess up in the very last second." She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "He probably has this whole runaway bride nightmare."

Ilva let another laugh escape her lips and she sat down in her chair again. She used to have a better chair behind the desk in her bedroom here, but that chair had moved with her ever since she had started studying. The wooden chair from the kitchen that was now serving as a replacement wasn't too comfortable, but Ilva found her high heels to be even less comfortable and the day had only just started.

"I kept on telling him that you're not gonna runaway, but you know Jon." Sansa shrugged her shoulders and Ilva nodded, both at her future sister in law and her own reflection. "He wants today to be perfect. He wants it to be everything you wanted it to be." Sansa walked towards Ilva and stood still behind her, their glances meeting in the mirror. "He wants it to be everything Robb wanted it to be."

Ilva clenched her fists. Her knuckles were drained of all color and she had to blink a few times to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. "We did everything exactly like we planned..." Ilva bent her head and swallowed a few more times. She didn't want to think about him too much. And she didn't want to think about him too little either. Because even though she had learned to love someone else, and even though someone else had learned to love the broken pieces of who she had once been, there was still a part of her heart that belonged to Robb and only Robb.

"He'd be so proud of you." Sansa let her hands rest on Ilva's shoulders and squeezed gently. "He'd be so proud of the both of you." She pressed a soft kiss to Ilva's cheek. "I'm gonna get Arya. I'm sure she wants to see you before Jon does too."

Ilva nodded and she watched how Sansa left the room.

Ilva had always been good at being alone. She had enjoyed spending time with a book for hours. Or she had spent hours on the internet, chatting with friends from all over the world. She had been alone, but never lonely.

But right now, on the most beautiful day of her life, she felt lonely. She felt lonely because the man she was supposed to marry, the man she had planned today with, the man who should have been waiting for her down the stairs, wouldn't be there.

That man had died on a battlefield that shouldn't have been one. That man had died far away from home and far away from her in Afghanistan.