~OUR BLADES ARE SHARP~ [Game Of Thrones]

Husband and Wife

The echo of Bethany's heeled boots meeting the hard floors, circled around the halls as she moved through them in rushed steps. After twenty years of living here, this place still gave her the creeps. 

The Dreadfort was so gloomy, dark, cold, and joyless. The sounds of whimpers coming from the dungeons deep in the night did not help either. The only sense of life around here was her children, and even they were all growing out of their child-like ways. Soon the laughter, and running of children won't be heard in these halls.

Bethany turned down a hall, the ends of her cloak flowing behind her, and her hair doing the same. Her eyes caught sight of Locke, her husband's hunter, and smiled. Approaching him with her hands joined together, and her head held high. "Locke." She called out, her voice bouncing off the walls and reaching his ears, causing him to turn around.

"Ah, my lady, what a pleasurable surprise. How may I help you?" He asked, stopping in his tracks, and turning to wait for Lady Bolton to approach him.

Bethany stopped in front of him, and grinned. "The pleasure is all mine," She said, a small chuckle leaving her mouth as she pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, and behind her ear. She regretted not clipping her hair back this morning, or at least braiding it to keep it out of her eyes. Even though the clips, and braids, increased her headaches. Having to constantly swat her hair out of her face though, was a headache of its own. "I was wondering if you've seen my husband? I've checked his study, but nothing." She questioned, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Locke smiled, and pointed behind him, "Yes, my lady. Lord Bolton went out for a hunt. He should be back shortly." Locke replied, remembering seeing Lord Bolton and a few men head out on horseback with hunting gear, and a wagon.

Sighing softly, Bethany smiled up at the man. "Thank you, locke." She moved around the man, holding the ends of the skirt of her dress, and rushed down the hall. The small crackling of the fire ignited on the candles, and the water dripping down onto the flooring from the windows, made walking alone feel much creepier. 

Slowing her steps, Bethany placed a hand on her heart, and could feel it pumping against her chest rapidly. She hadn't realized how fast she was trailing down the halls until she ran out of breath. Coming up on a set of stairs, she carefully descended them, gracefully. "My lady," A servant greeted her as she passed her on the steps. Smiling, Bethany nodded at the male who was on his way up the stairs.

Twenty, twenty steps Bethany counted on her way down, something she found herself doing every time she went down steps. She would count them, to distract her mind from the eerie silence. She moved swiftly through a brighter hallway, filled with more people than upstairs was, and nodded at each servant, and guard that greeted her. She came up to the double doors that lead out to the courtyard, where she knew her husband and his men would enter when they returned.

"Elerie, have a bath drawn for my husband." Bethany instructed an older woman, who was assigned to smaller tasks, but took a whole day to do them.

"Yes, my lady." Her northerners' accent broke through her words. Bowing slightly, with a deep groan, she walked off toward the direction Bethany came, to the pools where the people bathed. Except for her, and her daughters. Roose refused to let them bathe where other men could walk in on them, so he made sure they had their own tubs in their rooms.

Bethany pushed the doors open, welcoming the chilly breeze that embraced her, causing her to smile and breathe in the earthy scent. Walking forward, removing her hands from the doors, she allowed them to close behind her, Bethany crossed the courtyard, and approached the gates, looking out toward the forest line, where she saw Bolton banners flying proudly, and a man leading men on horses toward the Dreadfort.