Chapter 36: The Red Wedding

The Long Summer, 300 AC

The banners of House Stark and House Tully fluttered in the warm summer breeze as the wedding feast at The Twins began. Laughter echoed off the stone walls, mingling with the sounds of clinking goblets and the lively notes of minstrels' tunes. But beneath the surface of merriment, an undercurrent of tension hung in the air—an unease that Catelyn Stark could not shake.

Her son, Robb Stark, King in the North, sat at the high table, his hand entwined with that of his new bride, Jeyne Westerling. His youthful face was flushed with wine and happiness, but Catelyn's heart remained heavy. The alliance with House Frey had been strained by Robb's broken betrothal to Roslin Frey, and while Lord Walder Frey had accepted the new terms, Catelyn knew better than to trust the leering old man.

The Gathering Storm

The feast was grand, as grand as The Twins could muster. Roasted meats filled the long tables, and the hall was adorned with the banners of the great houses in attendance. Edmure Tully, Catelyn's brother, beamed beside his new bride, Roslin, seemingly oblivious to the dark clouds that gathered over their celebration.

Catelyn's sharp eyes scanned the room. She noted the presence of Roose Bolton, his expression as unreadable as ever, and the Frey men, whose smiles seemed too forced, too wide. Her unease deepened as she caught sight of the doors being quietly barred by Frey servants.

"Robb," she whispered, leaning towards her son. "Something is wrong."

But Robb, caught in the haze of celebration, dismissed her concerns with a reassuring squeeze of her hand. "Mother, it's a wedding. Enjoy the night."

Catelyn tried, but her instincts screamed otherwise.

The Betrayal Unfolds

As the feast wore on, Lord Walder Frey rose from his seat, tapping his goblet with a knife to call for attention. The hall quieted, all eyes turning to the Lord of the Crossing.

"My lords, my ladies," Walder Frey croaked, his voice dripping with false warmth. "I have given bread and salt, and honored our guests as befits my station. But there is one more gift I must bestow."

Catelyn's breath caught in her throat as she noticed Roose Bolton's hand slip beneath the table, his fingers closing around the hilt of his dagger.

"The North remembers," she whispered, her voice a desperate prayer.

But it was too late.

The minstrels' tune shifted abruptly, the sweet melodies giving way to the ominous strains of "The Rains of Castamere"—the Lannister song of conquest and death.

Catelyn sprang to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. "Robb!" she screamed, just as the first arrow flew.

Chaos erupted.

Blood in the Hall

Arrows rained down from the galleries, striking down Stark bannermen where they stood. The Freys turned on their guests, swords flashing in the firelight. Catelyn watched in horror as Robb's loyal men fell, their cries of pain drowned by the cruel laughter of their betrayers.

Robb scrambled to his feet, drawing his sword, but the onslaught was overwhelming. Catelyn seized a knife from the table, her mother's instinct driving her to protect her son. She lunged towards Lord Walder, grabbing his young wife and pressing the blade to her throat.

"Let him go!" she shouted, her voice breaking with grief and fury. "Let him go, or I swear I'll—"

But Walder Frey only sneered. "I'll find another wife."

Catelyn's scream was one of raw, unfiltered anguish as Roose Bolton approached Robb, his dagger gleaming in the torchlight.

"The Lannisters send their regards," Bolton whispered, driving the blade into Robb's heart.

Robb's eyes widened in shock and pain. He turned to his mother, reaching out with a trembling hand before collapsing to the floor, lifeless.

Catelyn's world shattered.

With a final, heart-wrenching cry, she dragged the blade across the throat of Walder's wife before the Frey men descended upon her. The last thing she felt was the cold steel against her own neck.

The Raven's Flight

As dawn broke over the blood-soaked halls of The Twins, a single raven took flight. It carried with it the news of the Red Wedding—the massacre of the North's hopes and the betrayal that would echo across the realm.

The raven flew swift and true, crossing the Narrow Sea, where a dragonlord's heart would soon break under the weight of the message it bore.