Fandom Game of Thrones RP

[Lucyfer]

Gods. Moira almost laughed at that, “I think I’d have better luck if I tried begging you than praying to the gods,” not that she would start begging any time soon. If the Gods had ever truly cared about the trifles of people, though, then she wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with. Her family would still be alive, and much else. No, when it came to where she put her faith, it was in people.

They were the ones who acted. If there were gods, they were sick sadists who just sat back with their wine and watched the show.

Still, she knew the risks when she acted, up to and including death, if the Lord did not feel like following his King’s commands. Still, death never seemed to come for her, another cruel act of the gods in some ways. They took just enough to keep her alive, and hoping…always, just enough, and never more.

The red-head wouldn’t tease Roose further with questions of what would happen. He wouldn’t divulge, after all. Part of the game to break people was to do something unexpected, and he would try. He would fail, Moira was confident in that, and she would end up free, whether by the Farmans or her own luck. Either way, Roose would hate her by the end of it, if he didn’t already.

~***~

The instruments of writing were handed off, and the Kraken’s son observed the blonde woman take to it immediately, writing out the words for her father. He didn’t intend to linger – he would make good on his threat of a time limit, “When I return, if you have not finished writing, you will not be coming along.” He stated. He wasted no time himself, either. He left the room, to go and get himself dress into more proper attire for hunting, removing any of the unnecessary finery to dress more into light armor.

Lessons were learned – boars and wolves could be vicious creatures, and a bit of armor was always a boon and not a bane. He would then get his own hunting knife, as well as his bow and arrow. Some preferred crossbows, but Theon wasn’t one of them. They weren’t nearly as efficient, and they only shot in a straight line. The bow was better for its accuracy.

The boots he wore were heavier, thicker, for the hunt. He went out to make sure the horses were being prepped, and found some of the men tending to it, albeit with unsteady hands. He had to assist, and he grumbled over how his own men didn’t know anything about horses.

‘Well of course not, they’re Ironborn.’ Very few horses on the Iron Isles. Soon enough, though, they were all wearing their tack, and that was when Theon would return to the room to see if Marinah was, indeed, finished with her letter and ready to go.

 

[aintnobaka]

Roose was silent for the most part of the ride back to Harranhal. There were many things he could do to punish her, but he already had a few in mind that he would use first. Slowly, he would break the courage of this woman. It would please him a lot, to watch her crumble beneath his fingers.

Once they returned to the castle ruins, he dismounted the horse and pulled her down without much gentleness. He would not offer her that, not after her little trick. Lord Bolton ordered his horse to be watered, and he dragged the red-head along with him as he wandered to one of his men.

The soldier had managed to locate a room within the ruins that couldn’t be escaped from as easily as the previous one. So Roose took her there, and he shoved her inside. Guards – Bolton men – followed them up and took place outside the room as Roose closed the door to speak to her.

“You will not attempt to run, or you will face even more consequences,” he said sternly, his eyes narrowed as he watched her, “And you will do everything you are told. If you want anything, you ask the guards outside. They will report to me, and I will decide whether you can have what you have asked for. Do you understand?”

--

Dear father,

I arrived safely at Winterfell. Bran and Rickon Stark are well. But Winterfell has been claimed by Theon Greyjoy. There are no more than twenty Iron Born here, but it’s possible there may be more on the way. Please inform the King in the North, as I cannot.

I am unhurt, do not worry about me. I am not a prisoner and I am being treated fairly. I will do all that I can to help the Stark boys and get them out safely.

Marinah

She set the quill down after writing the letter, and she rolled it up tightly and sealed it shut. Marinah could only pray that Theon wouldn’t want to read the letter; if he did, she would be in trouble. He might kill her. But she had to take the risk.

With the letter finished, she rummaged through her trunk to find suitable clothes for riding. Tight breeches with a thick tunic and a long coat. And boots as well.

When Theon returned to her room and she opened the door to greet him, Marinah was already dressed in those clothes, her hair tied back into a tight braid.

 

[Lucyfer]

Silence was a boon, one in which Moira tried to regroup mentally, tried to prepare for the few days of hell. Soon enough Roose would learn that Lord Farman wouldn’t be answering his request. Not without the code. Then he’d have to let her write again. ‘Assuming I have an arm.’ It hurt. Throbbed.

And Roose pulling her off the horse didn’t help in the least, nor did the dragging, but though her pace faltered at the first few steps, she quickly picked it back up. She refused to fall or stumble, even when she was shoved into the room. She still kept her balance, and breathed out, deep and slow, before she turned back around to the Lord.

He threatened more punishment if she tried to escape, and all it did was bring a cocky smirk to her lips. ‘No, really?’ Not that it would stop her if she saw a way out. She didn’t let the sarcasm escape her. She waited until the end, and gave a nod. She understood perfectly. It didn’t mean she’d listen.

“I understand, Lord Bolton,” stated calmly. “May I please get some treatment for my arm before it worsens from the arrow?” She was expecting a no, at least for now. He might see sense later, “Preferably from the pretty woman who served the Stark.” She probably wasn’t around any more, curse the luck.

~***~

Marinah was clearly prepared when Theon returned, and that primal part of him wished then that she wasn’t wearing that coat. He could tell how tight those slacks were. It would have been nice to see the shape of what they hid, but the coat fell beyond her waist, which was immediately frustrating.

Then, in hindsight, not so much. He didn’t need to let her play her games on him still. At least she was dressed practically, as well. “Good, I see you’re prepared,” he wasn’t as disappointed as he thought he would be. Rather, the Greyjoy was starting to look forward to this in spite of himself. He could show off a bit of his skill with a bow, and see what she was capable of.

She wasn’t going to best him at it.

“Follow me – I’ll take you to maester Luwin,” who now tended to stay in his chambers, so he was pretty easy to find. He didn’t want to read the letter – perhaps he should have, to see what was leaving here, but it was just going to her father. He didn’t see what harm that could do. He’d make sure it only went to her father as well.

That was part of the purpose of going along with her to maester Luwin, after all. He would make sure she never went there alone, make sure he knew where all the letters were going. And they would reach the maester’s chambers soon enough, and Theon knocked on the door loudly. The rustling of chains was the only sound that made it clear that the man was moving – his steps were too light.

Soon enough, the door opened to reveal the old man, balding, in the long maester’s robe. He looked curiously at Theon, before looking to the woman with him, taking on a softer expression, “Lady Bailer?” He spoke curiously then, glancing back to Theon.

“She has a letter she needs sent,” Theon offered without further introduction or explanation for their presence.

 

[aintnobaka]

“Unfortunately, she isn’t here any longer, but I will bring someone else up to you.” Roose said. He wasn’t entirely sure if he could risk sending anyone up to her along. There were guards outside, yes, and they were men that were loyal to him and that he trusted. But he absolutely did not trust Moira Farman.

He turned and walked out of the door without another word. Lord Bolton moved fast around the castle ruins, his hands clasped behind his back as he sought out one of the healers. Once deciding on one, he found the older woman, spoke to her, then led her up to the bedroom where their hostage was being held.

As the older woman moved forward to attend to their guest’s arm, Roose lingered by the door to watch, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “How bad is the wound?” He asked the healer, curious to learn the state of the Farman woman. It wasn’t that he cared about her wellbeing, but he cared to know of how much harm had or hadn’t been done to her; to assume whether or not Robb Stark would be upset when he returned.

Oh well, there wasn’t anything the King in the North could do about it now.

~~

Marinah was more than pleased to see Theon’s eyes linger on her for even just a moment, presumably assessing whether her clothing was suitable for hunting. “I’m prepared for most situations, Lord Greyjoy.” She said with a soft smile as she followed him out of the door of her chambers. Perhaps it was an overstatement to say that, as she hadn’t exactly been prepared to find Winterfell captured by Iron Born. But nonetheless, she was surviving.

It relieved her that he didn’t ask to see the contents of the letter. If he had, she surely would have been kept under lock and key, and she wouldn’t have ruled out being hurt by them either.

At the sight of Maester Luwin, Lady Bailer smiled, and she held out the letter. “Could you send this to my father in the Reach, please? He needs to know that I’ve arrived in Winterfell safely.” No indication that there was anything else written in that letter.

But within days, the King in the North would be aware of Theon Greyjoy’s treachery, and hopefully he would soon send forces to free the Stark’s ancestral home.

 

[Lucyfer]

The pretty healer wasn’t there any longer, and Moira did sigh, but had guessed as much. At least Roose was going to get her a healer, and she moved to the bed. ‘Lets me have a bed still.’ Such generosity from a man supposedly so cruel. Perhaps she ought to be on guard about it, but she wasn’t.

Moira used the time with Roose absent to remove the bodice once more, and adjusted the chemise underneath so that the wound was obvious. These movements were careful, slow, but they hurt, and she was starting to notice a numbness in the hand of the wounded arm. ‘Please no.’ Temporary, she hoped. Temporary. She didn’t want the use of her hand to be lost. It was her good arm.

Roose returned with a woman, and she approached without hesitation, inspecting it. Her expression was grim, worrisome. She didn’t look at Roose when he spoke, but did answer, “Might be worse here in a second. Going to have to push the arrowhead through.” Moira dared not wince at the thought, “when I can cut out the shaft I’ll know better how bad. Worse case, she’s going to bleed out once I push it through.” That was when Moira paled, “best case, there’s going to be some damage that will affect her ability to use her arm for a few weeks. And then anything in between.”

“Between death and temporary disability. Sounds fantastic,” the sarcasm was palpable, “Can we avoid the death risk and not push the arrow through?”

“Then it will get infected and your death will be slower.”

~***~

Maester Luwen took the letter from her, nodding shakily as he understood where the letter was to go to. He recalled where her father resided, and he would make sure it reached him. The reason was sound enough, for both the Maester and Theon, “Yes, I will be sure to send it out on a raven today,” he promised her. He looked between the pair, “Is there anything else that you need?” His eyes returned to Theon.

Theon shook his head, “No, not right now. That will be sufficient.” It was on the tip of his tongue to thank the maester, but he refrained. He couldn’t be overly polite. He couldn’t thank them just for doing their job – it was what they should do without gratitude. There was no reason to offer them more than that. He looked to Marinah then, “This way.”

He would not wait, though he heard maester Luwen sigh, and heard him speak to Marinah, “It was pleasant to see you, Lady Bailer,” he indicated, “I hope you are…taking care during your stay here,” he didn’t think she was enjoying it, and his smile was a bit sad, before he would turn into his room, only to get a bit of string, before he would go to the rookery to send the letter on.

Theon would only pause at the end of the hallway to make sure that Marinah was keeping up and was following on her way outside to go to the horses and the hunt.

 

[aintnobaka]

Roose Bolton leaned back against the wall as he listened to the healer discuss the possible outcomes on Moira’s arm. The worst case was that she would bleed out. The King in the North wouldn’t be too impressed with that, but Roose would expertly argue that it was the girl’s fault after all. The young wolf would believe him. He would have to believe him. Only a foolish king would choose an enemy over an ally.

“I’m sure you won’t want to suffer, Lady Farman.” Roose mused but, quite honestly, he didn’t care if the woman suffered. Well, perhaps he cared a little; because he did want her to suffer. “Do you what you have to do.” He said to the healer.

He didn’t move from the wall or from the room – he couldn’t trust Moira Farman alone with the healer. He refused to believe that she wouldn’t try to escape once again, even with the guards stationed outside the door.

~

Marinah tried not to let out a relieved sigh as the letter was firmly in the hands of the Maester and not probed at by Theon, but her shoulders did seem to relax. Before they left, she stopped to listen to Luwen and she smiled at his words. “Thank you, Maester. Oh, before we go…” She cleared her throat and moved away from Theon to speak quietly to Luwen. She kept her voice low at the request for moon tea, even though she was sure the Greyjoy lord could still hear her.

Once the Maester closed his door, Marinah trailed behind Theon, following him outside. “You’ll have to show me how to use a bow when hunting, I’m afraid I’m not quite sure how to wield one. Well, obviously I know the basics, but my father would curse if he ever saw me with a weapon in my hands.” She chuckled.