Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 99: A Turn for the Worse

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―At the Dreadfort―

Lord Roose Bolton did not have a strong likeness to his bastard son, Ramsay Snow. At the family dinner within the Dreadfort, he sat at a table with Ramsay and his new wife Walda—commonly referred to as 'Fat Walda'. Though occasionally mild-mannered, never raised his voice and been in many battles, Roose was not pleased with Ramsay's blatant disregard of his authority despite repeatedly being warned. Barely even gripping his chalice, he stared at his bastard son. "You said you wanted something to discuss with me?" he said chilly.

Ramsay couldn't help but grin, remaining indignant as he put up a polite façade. "Allow me, mother," he said – pouring his stepmother some wine.

"Thank you, Ramsay," Walda smiled.

There was a long silence which lasted a while before Ramsay stood from the table; now, ordinarily Roose would be considered surprised since his bastard son never referred to Walda as mother... unless there was something to be gained from it—if only for himself claiming it was for House Bolton. "You'll be pleased to learn, father," he begun confidently, "that the rumors have been repressed and none remain the wiser. It wasn't easy and it took quite a deal of bargaining, the other northern houses have apparently backed off."

Dontar, one of House Bolton guardsmen, remained off to the side of the room – paying no heed to the conversation, for even he knew the consequences of intentional eavesdropping on a powerful lord of a powerful, yet feared house.

Roose, however, was not entirely convinced. "And what were the exact details?"

"Initial reports indicated that... Locke had inside help; several men were apprehended and questioned night and day. When each of them... confessed their treason, I flayed them living. Made their families watch."

"And?"

"Officially, House Bolton still denies any sort of wrongdoing and publicly condemned Locke and his men for the assassination attempt on the King's life."

Roose believed there was something more. "What else?" he pressed.

Ramsay snapped his fingers, motioning for Dontar to open the dining hall's doors to reveal a young girl, dressed in grey wool broidered with white satin; over it she wore an ermine cloak clasped with a silver wolf's head. "I believe we've found a way to strengthen our relations to the other houses and the entire North," he said proudly. "Father, I'm sure you recall Lady Arya Stark?"

Roose narrowed his eyes to thoroughly examine the girl up and down; she was slim, and taller than he remembered, but that was to be expected. Girls grow fast at that age, he thought. Dark brown hair fell halfway down her back. Her eyes on the other hand... That is not Lord Eddard's daughter, he realized. That's Sansa's little friend, the steward's girl. Jeyne, that was her name. Jeyne Poole.

By comparison, Arya Stark had her father's eyes of House Stark and was much less attractive. A girl her age might let her hair grow long, add inches to her height, see her chest fill out, but she could not change the color of her eyes.