Damian and Mar'i Demonfire

Red Wedding (Part 2)

The video (which I do not own) is the second part of the Red Wedding.  The massacre itself.  If you are disturbed by extreme violence, blood, throat-slitting, pregnant women getting stabbed in their wombs, or crossbow bolts being shot at people, then I really recommend to NOT watch this video.

They reach the altar.

Lord Grayson releases his daughter's arm.  He faces her, and uncovers her veil.

She is not completely awful looking.

Raven-dark hair cascades over Mar'i's shoulders, her skin has a healthy golden glow, but her emerald eyes are the most distracting part of her appearance. Even the Lannisters' famed eyes do not have this unique emerald-like quality. But her beauty is slightly marred by her frown.

Lord Grayson faces his daughter, and kisses her forehead.  A small gesture of fatherly love.  He walks down from the altar to his seat.  All the guests seat themselves in unision. Then, it is only the septon, Mar'i, and I left at the altar.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."

Mar'i turns around, her back facing me. I remove her maiden cloak, and replace it.  Draping the marriage cloak, embroidered with House Wayne's gray and black bat sigil, over her shoulders. Mar'i turns to face me. I can easily see she is not very good at hiding her emotions. On her face, her worry is evident to read. Her slight frown gives her away too easily.

"I hope I am not a disappointment to you, my lord," she says reluctantly.

I am still rather distracted by her beauty. I feel the sudden urge to reach out and caress her face. The reasons why are not entirely innocent. I am hardly aware of Jason's not very subtle amusement at my speechlessness.

Suddenly, I am aware of hundreds of eyes from the wedding guests in the sept staring at me. Waiting for me to say something.

"You are a delight to me, my lady," I manage to say.

A slightly amused smile escapes from Mar'i lips at my words. She does not seem so insufferable, but I do not let my guard down. Beautiful things can have poison laced into them.  Cersei Lannister is living, breathing proof of this. I hardly know this woman, I should not be distracted by her appearance.  For all I know, Mar'i could be another Cersei Lannister. A cold, prideful bitch, who apparently fucks her twin brother according to the rumors.  You fool.  Gaping over this stranger like a simpleton. However, Mar'i does not have any siblings, so I should not be so concerned about her committing incest.

Mar'i and I hold our hands out together, for the septon to tend to.  The septon takes a white cloth, and wraps it loosely around our adjoining hands.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hearby seal these two souls.  Binding them as one, for eternity."  Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Lady Kory smiling sadly for her daughter, and father with his ever-solemn face.  Next to me, Mar'i is fidgeting uncomfortably, but she doesn't remove her hand.  She knows her duty.

"Look upon each other, and say the words." Mar'i and I turn to face each other.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger," we say in unision.  "I am hers, and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."  Mar'i has the grace to not look away.

Once the ceremony is over, we all leave the sept, and are escorted into the dining hall. Everyone is ushered to their seats for the wedding feast. Mar'i and I are seated at the high table, as the wedded couple. The guests of honor. Her parents, my father, and Lady Selina are all seated to the table closest to us.

The Bear and the Maiden Fair rings throughout the hall from the musicians' instruments. The dining hall is filled with sounds of laughing and talking from the guests. Nearly everyone is having a drink, telling stories, and overall, just seeming to enjoy themselves. Unwinding. Everyone except for Mar'i and I.

Mar'i and I do not eat or talk to each other very much. I do not have the appetite, and am in no mood for conversation. Mar'i simply picks at her food, while staring down at her plate. Every once in a while, someone comes up to our table, and congratulates us on our marriage. We courteously accept their thanks, and give a compliment or two. Mar'i is very good at giving polite, slightly sweet smiles to the guests.

Lord and Lady Grayson give their congratulations to us. Mar'i hugs her mother, and plants a kiss on her father's cheek. None of these affections seem fake at all. She seems to have a genuinely good relationship with her parents. Her friend Lian of House Harper even comes up to us as well.

Then, the last guest to come to our table arrives. Father. He smiles warmly towards Mar'i, which she returns, and offers his hand out to me.

I shake his hand, and then, father pulls me into an embrace. Odd. Father has never been one for shows of affection. I hear him whisper into my ear.

"Remember what I said Damian."

He quickly pulls away, and smiles as if he told me nothing at all. As he walks back to his seat, I glare at his turned back while he is walking.

Insufferable, cold-hearted, selfish bastard-

"Damian, is everything all right?" Mar'i's voice interrupts my malicious thoughts of father. She has a worried look on her face, and sounds genuinely concerned.

"Everything is fine," I say tersely. Closing the subject quickly.  Mar'i looks unconvinced, but she thankfully does not push the subject. She goes back to sipping her Arbor gold.

Lord Grayson stands up, and repeatedly bangs his empty goblet onto the table, receiving every guests' attention. The hall quietly shushes, until complete silence fills the room.

"My Lords, my Ladies," Lord Grayson says for everyone to hear. "The septon has prayed his prayers. Damian of the House Wayne has wrapped my daughter in a cloak."

Each of the guests in the hall cheer out. They must be drunk. Lord Grayson raises his hand, respectfully calling for attention. Effectively causing the hall to become silent again.

"However, they are not yet man and wife. A sword needs a sheathe."

This ribald joke causes a round of laughter to ring throughout the hall. I know what Lord Grayson is talking about. Bedding.  I scowl to myself.  A bedding is the last thing I wanted now.

"This wedding needs a bedding! What do you say my Lords, my Ladies?"  Despite his words, Lord Grayson's eyes look slightly pained.  He does not wish to have his only daughter bedded.  Unfortunately, he must stick to tradition to appease the guests.

Bed! Bed! Bed! Bed! Bed! Bed! Bed! Bed! Bed! The guests' chanting grows louder and louder. Many of the guests repeatedly bang their goblets down on the tables during the changing. Drunken imbeciles.

Mar'i has turned as white as snow.  Her face is turned away from me. I however, am more frustrated than abashed. Even at my own wedding, no one can leave me alone.

I hope father burns in all seven damn hells for this wedding.