Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book three

A true Bolton - Part 1 - Roose x Reader

First part of a request for anon_random_. As always, I do love my Bolton boys, so I hope you all enjoy.

Roose made his way through the corridors of the Dreadfort. The ancient stone castle was as quiet as the grave apart from a few bannermen that were doing their nightly patrols. The corridors only lit by the few torches that littered the walls. The long, dark shadows making the Dreadfort look even eerier than it normally did. Not that he cared. Not that he needed the torches. The head of House Bolton would be able to find his way to the room he was headed for, even if he were blind. Even if all his senses failed him, his feet would instinctively lead him to her. They would instinctively lead him to his daughter.

His daughter (Y/n) was Domeric's sister. His only surviving true heir. And she had always been the apple of her father's eye. He had always loved her. The only child that he had ever shown any true kind of affection for. And that affection had become more, after his daughter had come of age. Much more, as she had become, in his eyes, the perfect woman. As she had become a true Bolton. The only woman that he wanted in his life. The only woman that he wanted in his bed.

Roose could remember the first time that he had made this journey. The first time that he had pushed open her door and found her naked, sitting in front of her mirror as she pulled a brush through her hair. (Y/n) standing and making her way over to him. Roose's hands moving to touch her skin. A soft moan leaving her lips, as his rough fingers brushed over her flesh. Her moans turning into lust filled groans, as his weathered lips had found their way to her neck. A growl coming from deep inside the Dreadfort lord, as (Y/n)'s hand crept down his body and found his hardening manhood. His head falling back and his eyes closing, as she had fallen to her knees before him. The lord inhaling sharply, as she took him into her mouth. His hand gripping into her hair.

From that night, father and daughter had been lovers. The Lord of the Dreadfort spending most nights in his daughter's arms. Most nights losing his body in hers. Finding himself covered in sweat and panting for breath, as he promised (Y/n) the world. As he swore that he would do anything for her.

Finally, he found himself in front of her door. His hand resting on the wooden ingress for a moment before he slowly pushed it open. A small smile coming to his lips, as he saw (Y/n) under the covers and furs that littered her bed. Her back turned towards him. Roose quietly making his way over to the bed. Shrugging off his heavy coat before removing his other clothes and then slipping under the covers. His hand moving to rest softly on her naked belly.

"How is my son?" Roose asked quietly, as he nuzzled into her neck.

"Son? How do you know that it will be a son?" (Y/n) queried, as she placed her hand over her fathers. The tiny bump still barely noticeable.

"Because, my beautiful child, I know. You will give birth to a true Bolton. A pure Bolton. A son that will be my true heir................"

"A true Bolton heir? I think that you will find that he will be a Cerwyn heir, father. That is why you married me to Cley, isn't it. So that no one would find out that I was pregnant with your child? That is why I had to let him touch me. That is why I had to sleep with him. So, you cannot claim that this child is yours when it is born, can you? To the world, he will always be a Cerwyn. And you will have to legitimize that bastard son of yours." (Y/n) scoffed indignantly, as she suddenly pushed her father's hand away.

Roose knew that (Y/n) had detested the idea of being wed to Cley. She had protested loudly enough when he had proposed it. That she didn't care that the young man was the heir of Medger. That one day he would be Lord of Cerwyn. That she didn't want any other man to touch her. Roose informing his child that he hated the idea as much as she did. Yet wed they had been. Cley appearing quite enamored of his beautiful bride. Delighted when she had informed him that she had so quickly fallen with his child. The young man clueless that his bride was carrying her own father's offspring, and that they were still lovers.

The Lord of the Dreadfort growled unhappily at the name of his daughter's husband. He had agreed to the marriage in hopes of a bond with the Cerwyn's. A strong alliance that might be of some use to him in the future. And the fact that (Y/n) was wed quickly after it was discovered she was pregnant with his child, enabled Roose to not have the little one deemed a bastard. Yet, the idea of (Y/n) being touched by Cley. Of her being kissed by him. Of her being in his bed, drove him mad. (Y/n) was his. Only his.

"Did he touch you today?" Roose enquired. His voice harsher than he intended it to be. (Y/n) turning over and glaring at him.

"Touch me? Why wouldn't he touch me? He is my husband after all. You saw to that..........father..............Despite what I wanted.............." The Bolton lady continued. As she sat and wrapped her arms around herself.

"He wants me to go with him to Cerwyn castle. He wants to leave the Dreadfort. Cley says that it would be safe for me not to be here. That it will be safer for the baby. But I don't want to go. I don't want to leave my home, or you. Please don't let him take me." (Y/n) informed her father. Roose sitting up and moving behind her. His arms snaking around her waist. His lips connecting with the skin on her shoulder.

"Cerwyn will not be taking you or my child anywhere. I will not allow it." Roose reassured softly. Carefully pulling (Y/n) backwards so that she was once again laid on the bed. The Lord of the Dreadfort pulling the furs over the naked beauty. Ready to prove to her that despite what her husband might think, (Y/n) would always be his, and only his.