Fandom Game of Thrones RP

[Lucyfer]

Worth checking, then. Robb only trusted Talisa with the high-priority prisoners. He had trusted her with the little Lannisters they had captured, after all, and so he’d have her see to Moira Farman, as well. For love of him, and her love of humanity in general, Talisa would see to it that the woman was well.

“I will find her then and send her to you,” though she would not like to be watched by him at her work. At least then she could come back and reassure Robb that the prisoner would be in good health to ransom back to her brother.

Besides, Robb was glad that Roose would watch. Moira did not seem the honorable sort at all. With that, the Young Wolf stepped back, nodded, and turned to go off and begin seeing his orders handled. Food, dealing with the dead, reparations, and checking on the prisoner. He’d find Talisa first and send her on to Roose.

~***~

Theon would not have minded her at all as a salt wife, which would no doubt be one of the reasons he’d be refused. A salt-wife was not what any sane woman wanted to be, even if there were perks. It was both an honor and an insult; a salt-wife was little more than a bed warmer, after all.

Their sons could inherit, if there were no trueborn sons. “Besides the fact that you are a beautiful woman with a clever mind?” Theon asked when she spoke of ‘anything else’ to tell her. He dared to lean forward as she leaned back, “And that I think bedding you would be an enjoyable experience for the latter, more than the former?” Snappy women were always fun in bed. They knew the pleasure of a bite or a scratch amidst everything else. “No,” he leaned back then.

He would continue, “Of course I’ll marry some ironborn woman – but men of the Iron Isles do not need to be confined to one wife. So even if I marry some woman there,” he waved it off dismissively, “There is nothing that says I could not have another wife,” and he would, certainly. The Iron Isles at least understood that much. “But we don’t need to be married to enjoy the pleasures of the marital bed – or are you saving yourself for some husband your father will never find for you?”

Since he was giving up. Who said women had to be pure maidens, anyway? Theon had never enjoyed a maiden’s touch nearly as much as he enjoyed the touch of a whore or a woman who knew what she was doing. The wench on the boat that took him to the Isles had not truly pleasured him at all, but he’d taken her all the same.

When she expressed she was a maiden, it explained a lot.

 

[aintnobaka]

Roose watched the king walk away, then he wandered over to the Bolton soldiers. He was handed an animal skin canister, and he unscrewed the top and drank some water that was inside it. It had been a long day of riding and fighting off the Lannister soldiers that had lingered behind in Harrenhal, and he was definitely looking forward to the meal that Robb was organising. It wouldn’t be anything extravagant; he hadn’t eaten such food in a while, but he was sure the young wolf would organise something different for their success that day.

When Talisa finally approached him, Roose could easily tell that she was nervous to speak to him. He wondered how the woman had grown so close to Robb if she seemed nervous to speak to nobles, but perhaps it was just the Bolton name she was nervous of, and the flayed man on his amour.

“Lord Bolton,” she said, bowing her head slightly, “I was told you would be escorting me to the prisoner so that I could examine her for injuries?”

Roose nodded and he gestured for the young woman to follow him, where he led her up the stairs to the bedroom that the Farman woman was being held it. He didn’t even knock on the door before walking in.

--

“Oh, polygamy is an accepted custom on the Iron Isles?” Marinah asked, her brows raising ever so slightly. She could hardly say she was shocked. Polygamy was outlawed in Westeros, but apparently the Ironborn didn’t follow such a rule.

He spoke about bedding her, which brought a smirk to her face. She was definitely enjoying this conversation. And from the rumours she’d heard about Theon Greyjoy and his famous nether regions, she would probably enjoy bedding him too. Whether she would let him immediately was another question; she hadn’t decided whether she wanted to play around with him first, to see how much he would try to have her.

Then he asked if she was saving herself for a husband, and she laughed. “I have not been saving myself for a while now, Lord Greyjoy. I’ve come to learn that the rule that women must be pure before they are wed is a cruel one to keep women away from the pleasures of such intimacy.” And she had broken that rule long ago.

 

[Lucyfer]

Moira didn’t bother to remove herself from the bed as she heard the steps. Too light. Someone balanced and poised. ‘The Flayed Man again.’ And another, much lighter, but without the grace. Well, grace, but not quite the…intent to be light. Naturally so.

Moira intended to learn all the sounds, to know each step so she would always know who was coming to see her. She had memorized them on her boat.

She did sit up on the bed, and there saw the dark-haired woman and the Flayed Man as they were allowed entry. No knocks. Good to know – Roose would just barge in any time he liked. She would definitely have to keep that in mind when she heard his steps. “My lord,” still that hint of sing-song, “To what do I owe the pleasure of our much fairer guest?” She inquired then, looking over the dark-haired beauty.

She did not know the woman, but she had the looks of Volantis about her. A regality that they carried, different from the nobility of Westeros. It was not a quiet regality at all. It was in every subtly upturned gesture. She had supplies of a medic, though.

Moira shifted her tongue, taking a stab at the woman knowing Valyrian – well, at least the dialect spoken in Volantis, and asked her, “Are you here to harm me or help me?” She spoke a few languages. Travel required it. She doubted Roose knew it, even with the best of educations. Most noble lads just learned to write it, as if it were an ancient and dead language, and nothing more.

~***~

Theon gave a nod at her inquiry about polygamy. It was acceptable there, as it ought to be. She did not look too surprised, but he still believed she hadn’t known about it. Most here never cared to look into the culture of the Ironborn.

She did not at all become offended with his talk, though. She seemed to…enjoy it. That only encouraged Theon further towards the thought that perhaps this guest could be a very pleasant one to have here for a while.

“Oh thank your seven gods,” Theon laughed as she said she wasn’t saving herself. Wasn’t a virgin, either. He finished the meat on the bone of the chicken and set it aside, shaking his head a bit before he went to eat some of the cooked vegetables, “Virginal girls are so boring and clingy,” he said, “It is a cruel thing to do – for men and women both, to keep them away from the pleasures of the flesh because it should only be shared with one.”

Theon, clearly didn’t think so, “We Ironborn have always known better.” When a commitment was made, of course, it ought to be kept, but until then, “Moontea would not be a thing if we were meant to be so restricted.”

 

[aintnobaka]

Roose opened his mouth to respond to the Farman girl, but before he could get a word out, she directed her words to Talisa. He knew the language was Valyrian from the start, but he couldn’t understand it. He looked to the dark-haired woman to his side – to Robb’s wife, as she was – and gave her a look.

Talisa cleared her throat as she looked between the northern army’s prisoner and Lord Bolton at her side. “I’m not here to harm you, I’m here to help you.” She said so that Roose would be able to tell what the girl asked. “I’ve been brought up to see if you have any injuries that need tending to.”

Roose couldn’t help but scoff to himself. He wasn’t sure how Moira had thought that such a gentle-looking woman would be capable of hurting anyone, and he also wasn’t sure why she thought they would harm her if they were using her for ransom. If he had things his way, she would be harmed if she didn’t obey the rules he gave earlier, but he knew that if Robb Stark found out about it, he wouldn’t be trusted with such a task again.

“Ae you injured?” Talisa asked as she approached Moira, setting down the medical equipment on the bed.

--

“If you think virgin girls are boring and clingy, try a virgin boy.” Marinah said with a laugh as she lightly swirled the wine in her goblet. “It was last year when I bedded this boy, and he…” She had to shake her head as she remembered the situation. “He was upset when I got up to leave the next morning. He thought we were going to spend the rest of our days together.” It had put her off the boy immediately, but she did feel sorry for him.

At the mention of moon tea, she gave a nod. “I’m sure the maester at Balehill is sick of brewing moon tea for me.” Once again, she couldn’t help but laugh. Perhaps her stay at Winterfell wouldn’t be so bad.

Until she remembered that she was not there to keep Theon Greyjoy company, but to look after Bran and Rickon Stark.

She cleared her throat after taking a long sip of wine. “Where are the Stark boys, Lord Greyjoy?” She asked and set her goblet down, and she twisted herself in her chair to look at him properly. “I’d like to see them.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Talisa understood. Excellent. Her guess was right at least, even if the woman spoke in the common tongue for Roose’s sake. She believed her, for the time being – at least right now she was still worth something. Until they heard back from Sebaston that there would be no trade because of the letter, of course.

Roose’s scoff was a touch amusing to her, and she did allow herself to move closer to the edge of the bed, to sit again with her legs thrown over it and look at the healer. “A noble woman playing medic. You must be very interesting,” she surmised. She always liked interesting people.

Would have liked Yara, if only they had a chance to talk. Assuming they talked. Old rivalries died hard.

Was she injured? “Mm, but it’ll bruise and heal,” Moira waved it off. She had been struck when she tried to fight, wasn’t sure if it was a shield or a blade, but she knew it didn’t bleed, and nothing felt broken. Just tense and sore between her shoulder blades, where it had connected before her arms were grabbed and she was disarmed. “Nothing to waste supplies over.” As if she cared if they did.

~***~

Theon laughed at her poor little virgin boy story, “No thank you, not my type,” he declined. He’d never had any interest in his own sex, no matter how good he looked. He did not see them as sexually appealing, only ever looked at women in lustful ways. “I’m impressed your father hasn’t kicked you out for dishonoring him so often.”

Perhaps he was in the dark about his daughter’s activities, though she did not sound at all subtle or secretive. She was spilling it all to him right there, after all, and she’d barely drank much of the wine.

Quite easy to get her to talk about her experienced status.

And, apparently, she was fertile. If he did want to take her for a wife, he’d be certain to get heirs, then.

At the mention of the Starks, his playful smirk faltered, “Bran and Rickon are in their rooms, eating,” alone. He did not often have them in the Great Hall. It always brought the mood down. “Bran has been alerted of your presence here. You can see him after dinner,” Theon offered.

 

[aintnobaka]

Talisa couldn’t help but smile at the woman’s words, and she began to rake through her medical supplies. “I decided when I was younger that I wanted to help people. Just because I’m of noble birth doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be able to do that.” She said and finally picked out a jar of salve.

“Where is it? If it’s only going to bruise, I’ll rub this over it to help it heal faster and stop any hurt it might bring.” It wouldn’t be a waste of supplies, because this salve had rarely been used. Most of the injuries she’d healed over the course of the war were deep cuts or sometimes even amputations. She didn’t quite like amputations.

Roose Bolton watched from the side of the room, his thin eyes staying on Moira. “Let her heal any wounds you have, Admiral Farman. We don’t want your brother finding an excuse not to give us the ransom money that we demand.” He didn’t know how petty Sebaston was going to be with this, but for the sake of the money that they needed to help fund their army, it might be worth healing any injury.

--

Marinah shrugged her shoulders, and reached over to cut herself a slice of the pecan pie. Oh, she was really looking forward to this. “My father knows that I am not virtuous, but he does not know every little detail.” She set the slice on her plate and began to eat it, and oh boy, it was delicious. “He thinks that I’ve only been bedded by one or two men, which is incredibly wrong.” She chuckled.

It was possible that her father did know of all the men she’d slept with, but if he did, he didn’t make a big show of it.

“He scolds me for it, but he seems to think that as long as the man I end up marrying doesn’t know, or even care, then there isn’t such a big problem.” Marinah said.

She looked at him once again and pressed her lips together. “Good. Oh, and I also need to send a letter to my father to inform him that I have arrived. He’ll want to make sure that I’m safe. Which I am, of course.”

 

[Lucyfer]

“Oh no, I’m not arguing with you,” Moira said as the woman seemed to protest – perhaps used to defending what she chose, “Do you see me in a pretty dress, dancing at balls?” Not that it wasn’t fun – she had a variety of interests, but she pursued the ones likely to put her in the same circles as Tywin. “I’m sure you heal very well, it’s just a pity we’ve met this way.”

Her fingers moved over the laces of her bodice, front-laced for ease, leather to serve as a bit of armor. She didn’t care that Roose was there – she spent too many years on a boat alongside men to care greatly any longer about flesh. Besides, even if it did bother her…letting him know what got under her skin was not a good idea. They were known as the Flayed Men for a reason. “Between the shoulders, at least, that’s where I can feel it.” She couldn’t see it.

Not only for flaying…they had a reputation for torture and interrogation. Best not to let him know any weaknesses, no matter how petty. She briefly addressed him, "My brother's not going to care if I'm only bruised. I likely have some from before our encounter as it is." He could be petty - but he'd only be petty about the code when it came to her.

There was a metal underbust over the chemise she wore, a thin layer of additional armor, inspired by Queen Cersei’s penchant for wearing it over her dresses. Moira wasn’t quite so obvious. She undid the clasps of it, “I’m sure you can see it by just lifting the chemise,” there was no need to remove it unless the healer said so. The chemise wasn’t fashioned to be worn under a dress – just a white shirt. But if it was thought to be necessary, she’d strip it off as well.

~***~

Theon could see the delight that sprung up in the blonde’s eyes as she reached for a slice of the pie. Theon did not plan to take any – but he would certainly enjoy the woman’s pleasure at getting to eat such a treat, and he knew his men were also going to enjoy the pie, as well. It felt good to be magnanimous now and then.

“Pity that mainlanders are this way about their daughters,” his own sweet sister was far from a virgin, and their father well knew it. He didn’t seem to care at all – but after all, she was taking the role of a boy.

Her wedding gown was her iron.

Her suckling babe, an axe.

He might even like an ironborn woman if he could find one a bit like that. Not completely – he still wanted his woman soft, otherwise it would be like sleeping with a man. No, soft like the mainlanders was fine – or else he’d have a salt wife to make up for whatever wretch he had to marry on the Iron Isles.

“Find one that doesn’t care – more fun than keeping secrets,” Theon winked. One that wouldn’t care, might have more the appetite a woman like Marinah needed, “You can write to your father,” he wouldn’t prevent it. He expected that much would be done, at least. “You can let him know that Bran is in good health, besides his legs,” which was true. He was not needlessly cruel to Bran.

“How is the pie?” He asked then.

 

[aintnobaka]

“There are more important things than pretty dresses and dancing at balls.” Talisa said with a smile as she hooked her fingers around the white chemise to lift it up. She eyed the spot between her shoulders and saw the already forming bruise. She let the chemise drop so she could twist open the lid on the jar and set it down, then she held up the chemise once again with one hand.

She dipped two fingers into the salve and carefully rubbed it over the bruising skin. The grey salve was gently massaged into her skin, and Talisa looked at her. “You might want to keep the chemise up for a little while to allow it to dry. It shouldn’t take that long.”

The dark-haired girl had to admit that she was glad Moira’s injury was only a bruise. She’d seen enough blood and guts lately, and she was thankful for the minimal injuries caused in the short battle today. There were a few soldiers that needed patching up, but none of them had drastic wounds. The ones who’d suffered the most were dead. They didn’t need a healer.

--

Maybe if they had been in different circumstances, Marinah might have found herself growing to like Theon a lot more than the last time they met. They were quite similar in their bedroom tastes, it seemed, or at least their desire to be in the bedroom. But he had betrayed a family her father was allied with, and her friendship with Robb Stark would probably cease if she fell into the arms of the man that betrayed him.

She was glad that he wasn’t going to prevent her from writing to her father, and that gave her hope that she could secretly write a second to Robb. There was no doubt that the north would demand Theon’s head for betraying the King in the North in such a way. The cruel though that she would have to bed him at least once before that happened crossed her mind.

“It’s delicious, thank you.” Marinah said with a smile and scooped another piece onto the spoon to hold it up to him. “Go on, try a bit.” She offered, nothing that he hadn’t done for a slice. If anything, it allowed her to lean closer to him, her green eyes fixed on his.

 

[Lucyfer]

At least Moira and this healer agreed on one thing – there were much more important things than dancing and fancy balls. The healer seemed to have decided to take to healing. Moira went to killing.

Bit different routes and priorities.

The salve did feel good, though, and Moira shut her eyes at the light massage, exhaling the pain the slight pressure caused and letting her fingers curl into the mattress, before Talisa had finished. A sigh parted her lips at the words of keeping the chemise up. It’d be a hassle to do so, so instead she shook her head, but didn’t disobey.

She just pulled the chemise off, but held it over her chest, arms folded there to hold it there. She could put it back on when it had dried. Shouldn’t be too long – and she wasn’t going anywhere, anyways. Not yet, “Thank you,” she said to the healer, and made a note to remember this one. Try not to harm her in the future, when she got back to her ships and raided the North.

~***~

The pie was well-made, it seemed, and Theon was glad that she enjoyed it. He wasn’t all that interested in it himself, and rolled his eyes as some was offered to him. Still, he knew it’d be pointless to refuse.

It wasn’t poisoned.

It would be tasty – just not to his tastes. Besides, it did give him an excuse to lean towards her, and he did so, holding her green eyes steady in his own hazel gaze. He didn’t wrap his mouth around the piece, but let his tongue flick out instead, to catch it on the tip and flick it back into his mouth.

He smiled as he closed his lips around his newly obtained treat, chewed and swallowed it, before he licked his lips, “It is tasty,” he agreed with her, “it just isn’t the sort of pie I prefer to eat.” True and innuendo, both. She seemed to enjoy the innuendo talk well enough, after all.

He didn’t lean away this time.

 

[aintnobaka]

Talisa smiled at the woman and she rubbed her hands on some cloth she’d brought up with her to wipe the salve from her fingers. “No need to thank me.” She said. She put the lid back on the jar of salve and then collected her medical equipment together anything. “If you find any other injuries, just send for me and I’ll be happy to come and fix any more up.” Then she turned to walk out of the room, but not before bowing her head at Lord Bolton.

Roose watched her leave and he closed the door behind her. He walked towards Moira. “I’m going to send for some writing equipment, and once that salve is dry and you’re fully clothed again, you’re going to write the letter. I’ll dictate what you’ll write. If we don’t receive a response from your brother, then the king says we will use your code.”

Then he knelt down in front of her, his eyes narrowing. “And you will tell me exactly what the code means so I know you’re not going to get all of these good men killed. If I think for one moment that you’re lying to me, I will forget about any need to leave you unbruised. Do you understand?” His voice was quiet and dark at the same time.

--

Marinah only smirked as she watched him take the piece of pie from the spoon with his tongue, and she knew exactly why he did it. She couldn’t wait to see what else it could do. “Oh?” She raised a brow, not leaning back either. “What sort of pie do you prefer?” She could probably guess what he would say, but she wanted to hear it.

This was definitely not the reason she had come to Winterfell, but she was now glad that she had. She was enjoying their conversation, and it would definitely be a shame when she wrote to Robb, who would probably send men to retake Winterfell.

She ought to enjoy it whilst she still could.

And she only hoped that he didn’t find out about her letter to the King in the North, because she was sure the ironborn would demand her head.

 

[Lucyfer]

“Of course,” Moira inclined her head to the healer, before she made her way out, leaving her with the Flayed Man once more. She showed the proper deference to him, though it seemed tinged with fear more than respect. Briefly, Moira wondered if he had done anything around her to deserve it, or if it was all just rumor.

When he came towards her, she met his eyes and listened to his instructions. The king demanded the code be used, and Moira could hear the dislike in his tone at last. It was barely there – but she picked it up then.

When he knelt, she leaned forward, not flinching from his narrowed gaze, his spoken threat and all his implied ones. “Do you really think I’m afraid of a bruise, my lord?” She let a cocky smirk touch her lips, “Try harder,” not that he could – she was to remain alive. “But to answer your question, the code is fairly simple. It’s just a way to verify identity and well-being. We talk of the weather and mean ourselves.”

Simple. Efficient. Except not really – every letter from her spoke of rains. Reyne. And Sebaston spoke of winds. Speaking of sunshine or anything else would not work. She had often found that giving a little, allowed for more. If Roose thought she was being fully honest, then there was reason to believe she'd be honest in other things...until she wasn't.

~***~

Theon quite liked the light in Marinah’s eyes at that time, and knew why she asked the question. Oh, he could give her the answer that she wanted – the innuendo, but he decided to answer with the food he preferred, rather than the true delight of the moist pie he enjoyed. “Meat pies,” and with that, he leaned away from her, the teasing smile on his lips, “Turkey is particularly decadent, but any fowl works, really.”

The tease and the chase were always fun. Almost more fun than the conquest – but nothing beat that. He hoped she enjoyed it just as much as he did.

“You should finish up your pie, Marinah,” he let her name roll off his tongue, without the insult this time, even if he wasn’t using ‘lady’ any longer. “That way we can get this whole business of you seeing Bran over with,” she had a purpose, and the sooner it was dealt with, the better. Bran would want to see her, too.

Maybe he’d behave a bit better knowing there was a guest who liked him here, as well. Theon would have to see if he could use this to an advantage with Bran. He didn’t dislike him. He didn’t even dislike Robb…though he knew he had now brought himself to war with Robb if the Young Wolf didn’t lose to the lion.

 

[aintnobaka]

For some reason, Roose wanted to find an excuse to not believe her about the code. He didn’t want to believe her simply because he didn’t want to risk using it, but Robb had ordered it be used if the first letter didn’t succeed. If an army from the Fair Isles arrived at Harrenhal after the second letter, Lord Bolton wouldn’t hesitate to keep the girl and show her the true wrath of the Boltons.

“You’d be amazed at how hard House Bolton can go, Admiral Farman.” He muttered and straightened up so he could walk to the door. He opened it and asked one of the guards to fetch writing equipment for them. He peered back into the room, relieved to see a small desk there that she could sit at and lean against.

He closed the door once again and looked at her. “If your brother wanted you back enough, he will respond to this first letter, whether you use the code or not.” He said that, yet he knew Sebaston was probably just being smart – something Roose didn’t want to give any Farman credit for.

Finally, the guard returned and knocked on the door before walking in to hand the writing equipment to Roose. Lord Bolton set it down on the desk and stood beside it. “That salve should be dry by now. Put the chemise back on.”

--

Marinah laughed to herself and shook her head at Theon’s answer to her question. Of course, he wouldn’t give into her, and he would play chase instead. She liked it; it was different to what most men did. Most men were willing to do a lot with her straight away, and sometimes that bored her. She liked a challenge.

To his request, she finished off the pie, and then she wiped her hands with a nearby cloth. “That dinner was rather nice, thank you, Theon.” She said, dropping his title as he had with hers, and just like him, she did not use it as an insult. She stood up and brushed down the skirt of her dress to make sure it was straight.

“I’m sure Bran will remember me, but I doubt Rickon will. Oh, he was so young when I was last here.” She said as she moved away from the high table, clasping her hands in front of her.

 

[Lucyfer]

‘Is that a threat, or…?’

It would not be smart for Moira to laugh in Bolton’s face, but the smirk didn’t waver one bit. “Rains of Castamere.” Was her response to his threat. She lived under Tywin’s rule. The threat of genocide hung in the air of any who displeased him, “You’re no Tywin.” She hoped it would annoy him, a bit, to know his impact was not how it might be in the North.

In the North, they might fear him. The Red Kings, once. The Flayed Men. But flaying was illegal, and the Red Kings were brought under the thumbs of the Starks.

He walked off to fetch the writing utensils for her, and when they were brought, ordered her chemise back on. She nearly rolled her eyes, but didn’t. She stood, certain Lord Bolton was right, and slipped the shirt back on. At least she didn’t need to put back on the bodice. That would hurt pressing into the bruise again, now that it had been removed. “It must frustrate you much to listen to a boy like Robb.”

She would move to the desk, to write as he’d dictate, but she needed to test the limits with Roose. If she was going to try escaping, she did need to understand him and the King she would try to flee from, to understand how they’d order search parties for her.

~***~

Marinah finished off the pie in short order then, and thanked him for the dinner. The title was dropped, but this time, without offense. It was more like they were more familiar to each other than they were, in truth. Theon certainly hoped to fix that later, but he’d take this as a step in the right direction for the time being.

He rose as well, didn’t bother to straighten up his own clothes, though he did watch her hands as they brushed down her skirt, before he lifted his eyes back to her face.

He offered his arm out to her then, “I’ll take you to Bran,” Rickon wouldn’t remember her. He probably wouldn’t remember his mother. ‘Well, that’s not true.’ But Rickon was still so young. Theon could remember it wasn’t all that long ago that he was an infant, unable to talk or walk.

Bran, as well.

It was a momentary pang to his heart that he intended to ignore. He would focus on better things, like how she would feel, if she touched his arm. If he could bring her closer alongside him as they walked. Those sorts of hedonistic things.

 

[aintnobaka]

Flaying may have been outlawed in Westeros, but laws did not exist during war. He could flay her all he like if they weren’t trying to use her for ransom. However, if she did lie about the code and an army from the Fair Isles did arrive, Roose would use such tactics as punishment and torture on her for arranging such a thing.

He would do it now, if he could, simply for what she said about him being no Tywin.

“You’re right. I’m no Tywin Lannister because I’m on the winning side of this war. And Robb Stark may be a boy but he is highly skilled and respectable. He knows how to heed advice.”

He sighed and waited for her to sit down at the desk. “Start it off with however you usually would. ‘Dear brother’ or ‘Dear Sebaston’. Just don’t use the code.” He ordered and waited for her to write down those words before continuing.

“I am being held by the King in the North and his army. They have not hurt me, and they will not hurt me as per the king’s orders. They will return me to you only once a ransom has been secured.” He stopped to think of a reasonable price, then dictated for her to write his numbers down.

--

Marinah looked at his arm as he offered it to her, and she gave it a moment of consideration before she unclasped her hands to link her arm through his. “Both boys are to be able to come and see me whenever they like, can we make that deal?” It hadn’t been hard to guess that when he told her they were in their rooms that they had restriction around their own home. She could only imagine what that felt like.

“No doubt with Lady Stark gone they miss having motherly affection. Not that I would ever be a good mother, but I think it might help if there is a woman around for them, don’t you think?” She mused. “After all, they are only children.”

She would never be a good mother, she’d known that from a young age. Her mother had died to bring her into this world, and so she’d grown up without one. She didn’t know what a mother was supposed to be like. But Bran and Rickon would probably need a woman to keep an eye on them and help them feel safe; she could try to do that, at least.

 

[Lucyfer]

“For now,” Moira still had full confidence in Tywin. It was all pride on her part, though. There was no way House Reyne fell to Tywin, if he couldn’t defeat the North. She wouldn’t accept it. Tywin was going to win this war.

Moira took the directions for the letter, writing the greeting of ‘Dear Sebaston’, and then continuing in the formal dictation that Roose offered. It was going to be painfully obvious to Sebaston that she was writing under duress.

And lying. “But you all have hurt me,” she commented, thinking of the bruise. Petty. Still a hurt. Not that she changed the words – no, she wrote exactly what Roose told her to.

Admittedly, the script was a bit more slanted than her usual letters, some lines extending out further, but Roose wouldn’t know that. It was to express derision, so Sebaston would hear her tone as she mentally repeated it. “I’m worth so much more than that,” she said, as well, but wrote down the number before Roose could correct himself.

Sebaston would have paid more.

The West always could make it rain. Tywin Lannister wasn’t the only one.

~***~

“No,” Theon denied Marinah’s deal, even though she had accepted his arm. There was a reason he had them guarded as they were. They would not behave, and they were too sneaky for their own good. If they were allowed to go about beyond their rooms, and able to visit someone behind a closed door, he could see the potential for escape too easily.

“They have not earned such privileges, and your presence does not grant that to them. You may visit them, under watch,” his own, “but nothing more than that will be extended to them. It is no slight against you,” he added, “but they are not as willing to be wards as others.”

He had behaved well as a ward, up until now. He wasn’t thinking far ahead with Bran and Rickon, honestly. He wasn’t sure what he would do with them after a year, but he knew that he needed them.

They were worth so much more alive. They were bartering tools, if he needed them for such. Hopefully, he wouldn’t…but he still wasn’t sure what he’d do with them. Keeping them aswards seemed ill-advised, considering what he became.

He turned the corner into the hall of Bran’s room, and with a nod to the guard there, the door was opened for them. Bran was on his bed, as he always was, his lower half covered in furs to hide how weak his legs had become from lack of use. He straightened up at the sight of guests, though. Initially he wore a glare, expecting only Theon, but it softened when he saw Marinah there.

He didn’t speak at first, not sure if she came as friend or not.

 

[aintnobaka]

Roose rolled his eyes. “You gained a minor bruise, you were healed. It cancels out. Usually your captors wouldn’t heal you.” He muttered with a quiet scowl. He watched as she wrote the letter and he carefully examined each word she wrote to make sure she wasn’t sneaking any sort of code in between her words. An accidental dot or a line could mean anything. He wasn’t just being paranoid.

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” He muttered sarcastically. “Now say that we want a reply within two days, and that if he does not respond we will assume he doesn’t want his sister back.” Others might see that as cruel to include, but Lord Bolton didn’t care.

“And then sign it off with your signature.” They would use the Stark seal so the Farman boy knew it was legitimate.

He wanted for Sebaston Farman to reply to the first letter. It would bring Roose a lot of joy to point out to Moira how it had worked without the code.

--

Marinah’s jaw clenched as he stated that she wouldn’t be able to see the Stark boys without him there. That meant she couldn’t tell them of her plans to write to Robb and inform him of the situation; she couldn’t reassure them that things would work out soon enough. She would have to find a way for Theon to let her visit them without supervision. She would have to get onto his good side.

When they walked into Bran’s room, a warm smile took over her features and she let go of Theon’s arm. She walked towards the bed and sat on the edge of it. “Good evening, Bran, do you remember me?” She asked.

The young Stark boy nodded and didn’t say anything, just glancing between her and Theon.

Marinah let out a soft sigh. “Ignore him. My father sent me to help you look after Winterfell in your brother’s absence, but… It seems that I can’t do that anymore. I’ll still be here, though, to look after both you and Rickon.”

She glanced down at the furs that covered his legs and her heart broke for the boy. “If you need anything, Bran, feel free to send for me at any time.”

 

[Lucyfer]

There was no code in the letter, though for all she knew, he was reading code into the slants and elongated slashes across t’s and i’s dots. She added his bit about two days, hoping he had very fast ravens if he was honestly expecting a response that quickly, “What happens if he doesn’t answer?” Mildly curious.

Probably death. All the more reason to figure out a way out of here. Sebaston would answer, of course. His answer would be quite amusing. He wouldn’t be interested in trading Moira for anything – the code would be absent.

Seeing Roose’s reaction would also be quite amusing. He’d learn then exactly how necessary the code was.

She signed, as she always did.

MoiRa Farman

The 'R' was always capitalized. "There, is that to your liking, my lord?"

~***~

Bran was cautious, even when he wanted to rage. He felt little reassurance from her words, and he glanced towards Theon, “May I send for her in the future?” Because he wanted to make sure it was a legitimate offer.

“While she is here, she may come to visit you,” Theon told him, and Bran looked back to Marinah then and smiled, a bit more openly.

“I will do so, and you can come see me,” he motioned out with his arms, and they lamely fell back to his side, “It isn’t like I have anything pressing to do,” the words were angry, but even before Theon came, he hadn’t had much to do except listen to people make complaints or demands of him.

Luwen had advised him well. Why couldn’t he advise Theon to let them all go? “It is good to see you, Lady Marinah,” and her company would be welcomed, any time. “How long will you be staying?”

Theon was also interested in this answer.

 

[aintnobaka]

Roose was silent for a moment as he thought about her question. He didn’t actually know what would happen to her if they never received a response from her brother. If Roose could have his way, he would have her killed. She would be baggage that they didn’t need – just another mouth to feed. But Robb would probably try to turn her allegiance.

The King in the North wouldn’t want to execute a woman.

“I’ll have to ask the king.” He muttered as he picked up the letter to examine it closer. “Why do you write your r like that?” He asked, his brows furrowed. Perhaps that was part of the code. If it was, he would have her write the whole letter out once again.

--

Marinah was pleased that Bran seemed to open up to her once he learnt that she was able to visit him during her stay in Winterfell. She was glad he remembered her as well, otherwise that would have been slightly awkward. “It is good to see you as well.” She smiled.

At her question, she tilted her head slightly; even she didn’t know how long she was going to be staying in Winterfell. Not an exact time, anyway. “I’ll be here as long as I need to be.” She leaned a little closer and lowered her voice, but she was sure Theon would still be able to hear her anyway. “Until Robb wins the war and returns. Once he is back, then I will go. But that might be a while.”

It really was a shame that the two youngest boys had been left with no one except the maester to look after them. Their father had been beheaded in King’s Landing, where Sansa still remained. No one knew where Arya was. And Catelyn was with Robb, and Jon at Castle Black.

 

[Lucyfer]

So, it wouldn’t be a simple execution. Things were much more straightforward in the West, it seemed. Well, that was to her advantage, she supposed. Roose would have killed her – she sensed that. It was his king, the vicious wolf, that tempered him.

His question had a simple answer, “I always have,” truth. But not the reason. He didn’t get the reason, “You want it to look authentic, don’t you? If I wrote with a lowercase ‘r’, it would be unrecognizable to Sebaston. Though, that entire letter is going to be unrecognizable to him, so if you insist…,” she could write it again.

Lower the r.

Sebaston would definitely know something was more than amiss, then.

~***~

Theon did hear, and frowned at her words, but he was conflicted on the matter, too. Robb had once been his friend, his brother…he did not truly want him to lose, but if he won, then he had to personally deal with him. He didn’t want to do that, either. In truth, he didn’t want to be in this situation at all, but how else was he supposed to convince his father that he was his son.

His son, worthy of inheriting the throne, long before Yara did.

He had to show strength. He had to put down his captors and take over what they once had. He had to make it clear he was not like them. He was Ironborn! So, he said nothing to it. Silence was better.

Bran looked hopeful with her presence there, “I’m glad,” he said. It would be good to have a friendly face. “I hope he wins soon, though,” he cast a glance at Theon, recognizing his silence and hating him for it, “I hope he wins and takes your head and puts it on a spike.” Robb wouldn’t. Robb wasn’t that cruel. Bran felt like being that cruel, though.

“He won’t,” Theon was forced to say, then.

 

[aintnobaka]

Roose looked between her and the letter and he pressed his lips together in thought. They did need the letter to look authentic, and if it didn’t mean anything, then they would be okay. “Fine.” He muttered and folded the letter. “I’ll take this to the king so he can read it and hopefully he’ll approve of it. If not… I’ll be back to make you write another.” He said.

Lord Bolton picked up the writing equipment and walked to the door with it and the letter. “I’ll bring you up some dinner later. For now, behave.” He said to her, and then he left the bedroom. He took both the letter and the writing equipment with him to find the young wolf.

He found him talking to Talisa, his wife, and Roose waited patiently for them to finish the conversation. “My liege,” he said with a bow of his head as Talisa walked away. “I’ve had the girl write out the letter. You ought to check it to make sure you approve before we seal it and send it off.”

--

Marinah had to admit that she admired Bran’s courage to say such things to Theon. She didn’t believe that he was a little boy who didn’t know when and when not to say certain things. Starks were always brave. But Theon wouldn’t hurt Bran, so he was probably comforted by that knowledge.

“I’m certain Robb will make the right decision on what to do with Theon when he returns to Winterfell.” Marinah sighed softly and gave Bran’s arm a gentle pat. “As for now, this is how things are. Until your brother sends an army to reclaim this land, it would be wise if you don’t say such things to any other ironborn. I say this so you’re kept safe.” If the ironborn demanded that Theon kill the Stark boys, he would probably give into the pressure.

“You should rest now, though. It’s getting late. Remember, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask for me and I will come.” Marinah smiled as she stood up from the bed and she walked towards the door. “Sleep well, Bran.”

 

[Lucyfer]

‘Behave.’ Moira did not move from the chair until Roose was out of the room. Then, she moved out, but examined its strength. If the floor wouldn’t break under her easily, she might have to use a weapon.

Or push the desk over it. The desk, and her weight, would certainly be enough to break the floor. ‘Patience.’ She told herself again, tracing the lines of the wood, before returning to the bed and shoving the bodice off. ‘Should have asked him for more clothes.’ If she had to be here a while, these were going to start to reek.

Her thoughts trailed to further captivity. If it had to be a while…plenty of things were going to get uncomfortable. She couldn’t imagine it’d be easy to secure a bath. ‘The sooner the better.’ She really wasn’t meant for this captivity thing. At least she was going to get dinner, though.

~***~

Robb looked to Roose only after Talisa bowed out, and he took the letter when it was offered. His brows knit at two parts – the day limit, which he knew to be Roose’s addition, and then the signature.

“The signature is peculiar,” he noted, glancing up at Roose for an explanation – certainly he had asked about it, “As is the limit on the days, Lord Bolton. I do not intend to see her killed or harmed after only two days if Lord Farman is unable to answer in that time frame.”

The words implied that something would happen to her, so that Farman would not be able to pay the ransom. He assumed that the Lord of the Dreadfort had some good reasoning for it, so he would at least hear him out on it.

~***~

Bran did not speak like that to the other Ironborn. He knew that Theon kept them safe because of lingering affection for them. He knew of it, but it did not change the facts of the situation. The young boy pursed his lips though, and only nodded.

‘Robb will kill him.’ Robb would do what was just, like their father would. He knew that. He knew that Theon would not get away with his crimes. He would die for this. Balon would have no male heir, then. The Greyjoy branch, on his side, would die.

“Good night, Marinah,” he said, as she rose to leave. He didn’t address Theon again. Theon told him to say he surrendered Winterfell to him, but there seemed no point with the flow of the conversation, so he didn’t add it as a last minute thought.

Theon didn’t demand it. He offered his arm to Marinah, though a bit colder now. It sounded like she was on the Starks side, after all.

 

[aintnobaka]

Roose remained still as Robb read over the letter, and he nodded in agreement with his comment about the peculiar signature. “I questioned her about it, but she said she’s signed like that ever since she could. We’ll have to trust that it doesn’t mean anything.”

Lord Bolton then cleared his throat. “It’s merely to add pressure to Lord Farman so we can get this over with quickly. We don’t need an extra prisoner on our soldiers for very long, especially when we are so close to pushing Tywin Lannister out of the Riverlands completely. I know you would never intend to have her armed, and I will follow those orders should we receive no response from him.”

He would do it even if he didn’t like it. Roose wasn’t entirely sure if he would have held her for ransom at all if he was in charge. But alas, he was not. He bent his knee to the King of the North, and he would follow any orders that he gave him.

-

As they left Bran’s bedroom, Marinah once again linked her arm through Theon’s, but she knew his opinion on her had seemed to change instantly. Once they were someway down the corridor, she spoke. “You may have forgotten why I was sent here, and that was to help Bran look after Winterfell. Robb agreed to this because of the alliance between the Starks and my family. I do not support your claim to Winterfell, Theon.”

She stopped walking at that point and dropped her arm from his. “But I’m not an idiot. I know that if I act against you, it could get me killed. So, I won’t. I’ll still be here to look after the young Stark boys, but I’m not going to inform anyone of what’s happened.” Well, she would, but he didn’t need to know that.

He probably still wouldn’t trust her, but she would gain his trust.

“My family may have an alliance with the true heirs of Winterfell, but I like being alive, and I’m not going to put such a great risk on my life when they will probably find out relatively soon anyway. Trees talk.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Questioned, but obviously only that, or Roose would have an answer. Robb nodded his acceptance of it. It would have to do for now. Signatures were personal things, she could have chosen to do it that way for some young and childish reason, that now she simply continued to do.

Or it could be an abnormal addition that Sebaston would pick up on. Robb did not like the position with her, and found she brought to mind more questions than he liked. A woman Admiral was strange enough. One with a code already set out with her brother, should something happen?

It meant she expected things to happen. It could be because of pirates or other issues islands had, but…Robb did not like it.

He would set the letter aside, however, and set some wax over a candle to start to melt it, to seal it. “I am trusting you, Lord Bolton,” he reminded. He felt wary doing so. His father had been wary of Roose, even if he gave him no cause to be wary. There were questions about his bastard, and much else, but silence reigned in the Dreadfort. “I do not enjoy the thought of lying to Lord Farman if he answers later, but I suspect he will be too relieved to care.”

The wax melted quick, and Robb folded the letter, enclosed it, and sealed it, pressing his ring to it. “I will see that it gets sent out shortly,” he noted, “While she is in our custody, find out what you can from her,” he lifted his gaze, “for now, avoid torture,” she was for ransom, after all, “but there seems to be more here.”

Certainly Roose noticed it. A woman of the Westerlands, leading a fleet, with a code set up already – something was wrong with this picture. That, and she was an officer of Tywin’s army. She might have information about his moves, even if she was left here in Harrenhal to die.

~***~

Theon hadn’t forgotten so much as willfully ignored that detail, until it was brought to focus again and soured his mood. He wanted to remove his arm from her, but fortunately, she chose to do it, and he turned to look at her as they stopped walking, to hear her claim support. He really should not keep her in the castle.

He should send her on her way.

He knew that eventually, others would hear. Sending her away might hasten it, but it was going to happen anyway. The only reason to keep her would be to slow that news from arriving to people like Robb. “So why should I not just send you back home, now that you are unable to assist Bran in ruling Winterfell?” Theon demanded of her.

How could he trust her not to write to her father of how things were, and spread the news faster? Well, obviously, he could read every letter she wrote, but he had enough on his plate to deal with.

He was pretty sure most of his crew was illiterate, as well, so he couldn’t ask them to do it. No, this wasn’t sounding good….

 

[aintnobaka]

“We won’t be lying to Lord Farman, my liege. Simply… Not stating everything immediately. If he worries for her safety, then he’d hurry up to respond. But it states that we will not hurt her, so he should trust that.” Not that Sebaston would have any reason to trust it other than the honour of a Stark.

Roose watched as Robb sealed the letter with his sigil and he gave a nod to the young wolf. “Of course. She might have information on Tywin Lannister’s army that we could use. Although, she doesn’t seem easy to give in.” He mused. He was sure the job would be much more suited to someone else, but he had enough patience to try and rinse information out of her in the next few days.

Roose Bolton, despite how quickly he wanted this situation over and done with, was a very patient man. He could wait longer than most men could when there was something he wanted or something he needed. He would be patient with the Farman girl, because with the type of person he was, and the type of person she was, it wouldn’t be easy to get answers from her.

It was almost a shame that Talisa was going to Riverrun with Robb, because Moira seemed open to her. Well, more open than she was to him.

--

Marinah did not want to leave. She had seen the look on Bran’s face, and she knew she couldn’t leave him. She couldn’t begin to imagine the state Rickon was in, for he was younger than Bran, and probably didn’t fully understand what was going on. She would make sure to see him tomorrow. Besides, if things seemed to get dangerous, she would help them leave.

“Because if you send me back home, I will ride straight to Robb Stark and I will tell him exactly how the man he trusted has betrayed him.” Her brows furrowed as she spoke, but then her expression relaxed. “If you keep me here, I can look after the Stark boys so that they aren’t any trouble for you. And besides…” She shrugged, and risked taking a step closer to him. “I can be good company. I haven’t seen many women around here, and I doubt the women of Winterfell are throwing themselves at your feet after you took it over.”

She had not planned on propositioning herself to him this soon, but it could be the one thing that kept her there in Winterfell. If it was what she needed to do to stay there for the young boys, then she would do it.

 

[Lucyfer]

No, the woman did not seem easy to give in. Robb wasn’t an interrogator. He was more straightforward, like most in the North. People there confessed what they did with pride, and justice was meted out appropriately.

The Westerners were known as clever. Tywin, Cersei – perhaps it extended beyond the Lannisters. But, Roose was clever as well, and Robb knew he could be patient. “If she says anything of importance, send word to Riverrun immediately,” it would be where Robb was. He needed to know anything about Tywin’s armies that the Farman knew.

“Let me know when Sebaston writes as well,” he added as he took up the letter then, “Even if it is to reject it and we have to use the code. I want to know the progress, Lord Bolton.” Just so he knew what was going on with this situation. “And if he accepts it, alert me to how the trade occurs.”

If anything happened during the trade, Robb would know of it then. “I’ll get this mailed out now,” if there was nothing else, he would leave the Lord of the Dreadfort to get the message on fast wings.

~***~

Theon’s eyes only narrowed further as she spoke of going straight to Robb, anger flashing in the hazel orbs. However, that did not seem to be what she wanted to do. She wanted to stay there and assist with the boys.

Theon knew he should not trust that. She might assist them in escaping, but it would also help to keep them in a good mood. To lower their guards. Rickon was all but feral at times, confused and hurt by what was going on. He constantly called for his mother or for Shaggydogs, though the wolves were outside.

‘You would be.’

But Theon didn’t want his throat slit in his sleep. The earlier fun he’d had in conversing with her was not forgotten, nor was the thought of how good she would likely be in bed, but right then he was not open the idea. She wished for Robb’s victory and wanted to help the boys. She likely wasn’t foolish enough to kill him with all of these Ironborn around, but still…it didn’t sit well with him right then.

“No, but there are good whores not far from here,” he brushed her attempt off coldly. Shame Ros was gone. “I’ll escort you back to your quarters, Marinah.”