Winwolfa (A Roan x Female OC Fanfic)

Chapter 28

Astrid didn't expect to get married the day after their arrival. She thought she would at least have a week of freedom, not mere hours. What time she did have, she spent in solitary, hiking along the land or socializing with Tilda, while others prepared for the festivities. Roan, on the other hand, was preparing a special gift for Wanheda to send to Polis. Astrid didn't bother asking what it was. She didn't care.

For the past few hours, she was sitting along the edge of the cliff with her feet dangling over the ridge, watching the sun rise. Freki and Geri were beside her, rough housing and playing in the powdered snow. She cherished the blissful peace around her, wishing it could last forever.

"Nervous?" A female voice called out from behind her. Astrid turned her head to find Echo with her arms crossed, looking in the same direction she had.

"More like petrified." Astrid chuckled nervously as she watched birds fly south, turning into specks in the distance. "I can't tell if I'm more scared to be Queen or be married to that stubborn jackass."

"Both seem equally terrifying." Echo snickered before her voice went stoic, "It's almost time."

"Is there anything I should be aware of before the ceremony begins? Blood sacrifice? Gruesome brawls?"

"Be prepared to get very, very drunk." Echo offered her hand to Astrid. She graciously took it to stand beside her. Then, with a twist of her arm, she threw Echo over her shoulder and into the cushioned snow.

"That's for shit you pulled at Polis. Don't think I don't know about it." Astrid leaned down and whispered in her ear before pulling Echo to her feet again. "You pull something like that with me, and it'll be the last time. Do you understand?"

"You already sound like a Queen." Echo chuckled with a slight tinge of regret in her voice. "But I understand."

Echo had an undying loyalty towards Nia. Like a daughter. There was no point in asking Echo about how she felt after her death; Astrid saw the sorrow in her face every time she looked at Roan. Their resemblance was uncanny besides their hair. To look upon his face every day and see the ghost of the woman who raised her certainly wasn't easy. 

As soon as Astrid entered the gates, she was pulled aside by Tilda and a plethora of women. Hands dragged her through the halls, despite her heels digging into the ground. She only got a brief glance of the festive decorations around them. Torches and banners and ancient decorations along the walls and tables. The whole dining hall was in the process of being rearranged. Sweet smell of savory meats and bread wafted towards her. 

Astrid fought against the hands as they pulled her into her room. Already, there were dozens of cosmetic products and accessories dispersed about the room. All the young girls seemed giddy about that moment, including Tilda. At least somebody was enjoying this moment, because Astrid surely wasn't. 

Tilda was behind her, chastising and critiquing everything they were doing. The braids needed to be delicate, but not loose. The gold ornaments in her hair needed to be precisely placed. If her cheeks were too pink, they had to wipe it off and do it again. Astrid's hair was pulled left and right, her face contorted in all sorts of directions as they applied the make-up. Within a few short minutes, she already grew beyond irked at the process.

Finally, after a painstaking and unbearably long hour, they were finished. Tilda provided a mirror, allowing the bride to look at the make-up. Gold shimmered on her eyelids, matching the clasps and beads intertwining with the braid's lattices along her head. Her lips were painted a dark crimson, a stark comparison against her pale skin and colorless hair.

With a quick whisk of her hand, Tilda ushered out the remaining women in the room, leaving just them. Once the last lady giggled her way out the door, Tilda peeled back the furs on the bed to reveal a gorgeous creme colored gown. Parts of it had been weaved of twine, while others consisted of a plain white fabric.