Northern at Heart [ GoT ]

T W E N T Y T H R E E

Marla awoke to the sound of clanging metal and dripping water. She was in a cell. She glanced around the room frantically as the events of the the night before came back to her. It felt like a ton of bricks had been dropped on her, knocking the wind out of her. She gasped for air as it felt like the walls around her were closing in.

All she felt was pain, both physically and mentally. She sat up slowly, and that's when she felt liquid running down her legs, and her stomach was wrenching so awfully. She looked down at her gown, covered in dried vomit. She reached a hand under the skirt of her dress and touched her thigh, revealing dark red blood. She must have lost her baby due to the horror of last nights events. She could no longer feel the moving inside of her like she normally would. She thought maybe the Frey's did something to her while she was unconscious to harm her baby. Either way, she felt her child was gone. What else could she possibly lose anymore? She held her stomach and toppled over, her head hitting the cold floor with a thud. She tried to cry but nothing came out. Her babe was gone—she was sure of it—and that was the only thing left that would've connected her to Robb.

Her bloodshot eyes scoured the small cell for something sharp she could use to end her life. She saw absolutely no point in living anymore.

The Freys must've anticipated she planned on doing this, because they removed anything from the room that would provide a means for an end.

She laid there for a while, thinking about how she even got here. It all began back in Winterfell. Life was simple, boring even. What she would've give to go back to stitching lessons with Septa Mordane, or history classes with Maester Luwin. She would be arguing with Theon, talking with Jon, playing with Arya. Those days seemed so distant they almost didn't feel real. If Marla had just stayed out of Robb's life, he would've married the Frey girl and she would have to watch as be built a life with someone else, but at least he would still be alive. The war could've been won, the Lannisters dead. If only she would've just left him the hell alone. If, if, if. That's all she could think.

Everything hit her at once. It was like she was reliving the emotions of everything that has happened the last three years all at the same time. She stood, hitting her hands against the bars that were enclosing her, and began screaming hysterically.

"I just want to fucking die!" She screamed. "Just kill me!" She begged.

She continued banging until she heard the sound of boot-steps coming down the hall.

"Would you shut the hell up?" A Frey guard spat. Marla recognized the man to be one of Walder's many sons.

"Why won't you just fucking kill me?" She asked, her voice cracking and raspy. She wanted nothing more than to reach through the bars and strangle him, but he was standing a safe enough distance away. Coward, she thought.

"Because we have a reason to keep you alive. As much as my father would have loved to see that oathbreaker Robb Stark's wife die with the rest of them, he would never turn down a profitable offer," he explained, eyeing Marla up and down.

"What in Seven Hells do I have that your old cunt of a father can profit from?" She asked, shaking her head.

"A man has offered a great price in return for your safety," he said.

Marla's face contorted. Someone's paying for my release? She thought. Her mind was racing a mile a minute. Who could it possibly be?

"So as long as you shut your mouth and behave yourself, you'll make it out of here in one piece and won't suffer the same fate as your dead traitor husband," he added.

"I don't care about living anymore," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes were like daggers as they stared into his.

He stepped closer, only a foot or so away from her, "I don't care what you want."

Marla took this as her only opportunity. She reached her hands outward, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward and causing his head to bounce of the metallic bar. Her rage brought out a superhuman strength she otherwise wouldn't have had.

"You fucking bitch!" He spat. He quickly but jerkily unlocked the gate that was standing between them and slapped her across the face. Before she could react, he shoved her backwards and her body slammed against the wall of the cell and she fell to the ground slowly.

The Frey got only centimeters away from her face, "I will make you suffer far worse than anything you've ever known before you leave this place," he seethed.

Marla spit at him, and it sprayed his face. Just as he raised a fist to her, an all too familiar voice rang out. "Stop at once. You are not to harm her anymore. She'll be coming with me."

Both Marla and the Frey turned their heads towards the voice. It was Petyr Baelish.

"Littlefinger?" Marla mustered out.

"Aye, my lady. It's me."

"What—Why?" She began one thought, but decided to ask the simple question of why he had chosen to help her, to save her.

"I had a great love for Lady Catelyn, and seeing as you and Sansa may just be the only ones left of the Starks, I feel it is somewhat of my duty to watch over you," he explained. Marla thought for a second before replying. Because if she was kept alive during the wedding slaughter, that means Littlefinger knew the plans that the Lannisters and Northern traitors had.

"You're a sneaky little bastard, aren't you?" She asked, she even let a laugh escape her lips. 

"I'm not quite sure what you mean, my lady," he said slowly, knowing that she was already catching onto him, untangling his web of lies.

"You're so honorable to save me, my lord. Just not rich enough, I guess, since your money couldn't buy Lady Stark's or Robb's life."

"The plans had already been made, Lady Marla. I could do nothing to stop the deaths of the Starks. The king would have my head on a spike outside the city gates by now if I had made any plans to save them," he rebutted.

"But I'm a Stark. By marriage, now," she said, wiping a bit of stray saliva from the side of her mouth. "So why were you allowed to save me?"

She thought maybe Joffrey wanted to parade her around Kings Landing as a way to show his victory against the Starks. Or maybe he wished to torture her. Or possibly punish her for escaping the Red Keep with Ryder all those months ago. Maybe Littlefinger felt he owed Catelyn and her children a debt of sorts: her life, for their deaths. But that would be thinking too highly of Littlefinger. He did not pass out favors without expecting something in return, or at least, he saw some sort of use for her as a part of his grand scheme.

"You are no threat to the king any longer. Your baby is dead, the Freys made sure of it. So you will not have Robb Stark's child, and you do not have anyone out there who will come avenge you. So you see, I am doing you a favor. I'm helping you. Not for myself. Not even for you. For Sansa."