Work Text:
The truth could be scarier than her wildest of dreams. She was the Lady of the Crossing, married to Walder Frey, good mother of more children than she could ever hope to remember. She was Catelyn Frey now.
During day, as she would sit by her lord husband and listen to him mock his own sires, yell at them, she couldn’t help but notice the small details of his actions. Of how his voice was never raised to her, or any of the many children running amok, always blaming the parents for not being able to control their offspring. His humor was acid even as they dinned, all faces very much alike around them, spread on the many tables beneath the main one, but none looked bruised or unfed.
At evenings, the repulsion she might have felt on their first night as husband and wife, kept itself at bay as his hands were tender and attentive on her. It was in shame and pleasure that she wriggled beneath him, as red in the face as she’s red of hair.
It truly was frightening to feel so at home and so welcomed in this strange keep. Much more welcomed than she felt in her early years as Lady of Winterfell. And how awful it was to have those younger than her call her mother, awful for she liked to hear that from them. She enjoyed fostering them, as her own blood children were spread all over the seven kingdoms. Her fondness for her new home was more scary than any hate, for now she was truly, a Frey at heart.