CHAPTER 22 | THE BLESSING OF THE GODS

THEY were to be married that night, in front of the Old Gods of the Forest. Stark banner men went forth to search for a godswood, while Roose Bolton readied Robb for his big event. Selene modified a long, cream-colored gown for her lady, one that Freya wouldn't wear in any other circumstance. She even brought back a basket of flowers to set in her hair.

Selene pulled her into the dress, lacing her tightly in the back. Freya felt constricted, and honestly, it wasn't because of the dress. She felt as if he life was constricting her, and causing air to not flow into her lungs. She agreed to this wedding – she knew it was her own undoing – but something was causing her nerves, and she didn't quite know what.

Her handmaiden attached a long, teal cape around her shoulders, clipping it together with a Greyjoy clasp that Freya kept from her father. Selene slid her hands down the cloak and smiled to herself. "You are beautiful, m'lady," she whispered, looking up to Freya. "Do not think of the future of tonight. You two will win this war – together."

Freya looked off. "Do you think he will expect me to consummate the marriage?"

"Stop your worrying," Selene soothed. "Your time has come. You will be a Queen tonight."

Freya exhaled before leaving the tent, knowing she'd see her handmaiden at the ceremony, which was quickly approaching. Her boots squished into the mud underneath her, and she dared not mind that her dress was becoming filthy. She shoved open the entrance of Robb's tent, noticing an avid of servants and lords adjusting his outfit. Robb turned, allowing them all to jump at her presence. "Lady Freya!" One of the servants exclaimed, trying to push her out. "You must not see each other before the ceremony!"

Freya shoved the man back, pointing a finger at him. "If this man is going to be my husband after tonight, then I deserve the right to speak with him." She looked at the other men surrounding the tent. "Get out."

The lords and servants scurried away, and the tent once again contained only two people: a boy and a girl; a wolf and a kraken; a King and a Queen. Freya walked forward to him, and soon they were both standing in front of each other, taking their ridiculous outfits in. Robb muttered, "You look nice."

"And you look ..." She laughed softly. "... Unlike yourself."

They both shared a chuckle, but their noise soon died down so that they could only hear each other's breathing. Freya sighed, looking up at him. "We don't have to do this," she whispered. "Our only reasoning for this is to piss off my father. We can put a stop to this."

"No, this will send a message. All the lords from all the lands will now know us. They will fear us." Robb almost smiled at the future. "And it won't compromise my alliance with Lord Frey. Lord Bolton has assured me of this."

Freya stared at him with worry in her eyes. "But can we trust his word?" She realized Robb was giving her a questionable expression. "Truthfully, I am scared."

"The only thing you need to be scared of, Greyjoy," Robb laughed, "is my mother's reaction to this once she arrives from the Stormlands. We'll surely get a beating."

Freya smiled sadly. She knitted her hands together, knowing that tonight they'd have to touch Robb – a man she thought she'd never have to touch in her life. The worst part was that she was worried over a younger boy. She was older than him – only by three years – but so much less experienced.

Her mind spun in circles, but soon enough, she knew she'd have to face the reality lying in front of her. She was to marry Robb Stark, and there was nothing she could do about it.

•••

The group around them was small, and tiny lanterns twinkle amongst the godswood. Because she did not have anymore family near (and none could know, in general), the lords allowed Selene to guide her down the walkway. Freya's arm was carefully laced around her handmaiden's, who held up a bigger lantern to light their path. Freya's only source of comfort was the feeling of Selene beside her, but even that couldn't suffice.

Usually, the ritual is led by the groom's father, but since Robb did not have one now, Lord Bolton agreed to lead the festivities. Selene led her lady towards the sacred heart tree, so that their ceremony could be witnessed by the Old Gods. Freya suddenly felt the pressure shift around her. The lords surrounding them were confining, she realized.

Freya held her head up high as they approached Lord Bolton and Robb, who stood in front of the heart tree. She swallowed down hard, clasping her hands together then. Roose stepped forward, asking, "Who comes before the Old Gods this night?"

Selene had a moment of hesitation, causing Freya to look at her. They shared a worried glance, and Freya wondered if even her handmaiden was suddenly getting cold feet. Freya tugged on her arm tighter. They were both in this together, despite their wishes not to.

"Freya, of House Greyjoy, comes here to be wed." Selene paused, gathering her thoughts. She had recited her words over and over to get them right. "A woman legitimized and noble. A kraken and siren of the Iron Islands. A leader of all the free men. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods."

Freya lifted her head as her eyes connected with Robb's. They both sparkled in the midnight glow.

"Who comes to claim her?" Selene finally finished.

Robb exhaled slowly, watching his breath mix with cold air. He paused, but soon took several steps forward, so that he was now beside Lord Bolton. His head rose to meet Freya's vision. "Robb, of House Stark, heir to Winterfell and proclaimed King in the North." He looked to Selene. "Who gives her?"

"Selene, of House Ferrego," Selene answered, "who is and for shall ever be her handmaiden."

Roose now looked over at Freya, who could only focus on the bloody grass they were stepping in. "Lady Freya," he asked, "do you take this man?"

Freya's arm slowly left Selene's. She stepped closer to Robb, and suddenly, their eyes were on each other. Both were unsure, almost terrified of their own actions. Freya then glanced at the face carved into the heart tree, and a tremor shook her. After a very long moment, she was staring at him again, and she muttered, "I take this man."

Unexpectedly, the lords around them began to roar with applause. Freya looked about as they screamed, "The King in the North! The Queen in the North!" Their shouts were so loud, and they began to fill her eardrums fully. This was now her reality; she just had to listen to them.

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

"THE QUEEN IN THE NORTH!"

Freya viewed back at Robb, and she knew that this was it. He was their King, and she was now to be his Queen.