𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞 : A Game of Thrones Story

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

Back at the Dreadfort, Lady Mariya awoke to find her husband was nowhere in sight. The woman was a notoriously light sleeper. Hence, for Rodner to have slipped out without her noticing it had to be intentional. What is he up to? She thought to herself as she rose from their shared bed. Throwing a thick robe over her shoulders, she walked straight to the Bolton heir's study. Just as she had predicted, her husband sat there with Grennan by his side.

"Good morning, my love." Lady Mariya greeted with a smile.

"Good morning, dear." Lord Rodner greeted as he stood, he placed a kiss a top her head and took her hand. "We didn't wake you, did we?"

Mariya shook her head. "Not at all." She replied, eyes discreetly scanning the room. "What are you two discussing so early in the morning?"

"I was just filling in Grennan here on how things went at Winterfell." Lord Rodner replied as he took his seat, still holding onto his wife's hand.

"I see." Mariya hummed as her glance drifted towards Grennan. "There is actually something I wish to discuss with you as well." She whispered to her husband.

Rodner nodded and turned his attention to Grenan, "Leave us." he commanded.

"As you wish, brother." Grennan said as he stood. He gave Mariya a pat on the shoulder on his way out of the room.

"What's on your mind?" Lord Rodner asked his wife once Grennan was out of earshot.

Lady Mariya took a breath then met his gaze. "Do you truly trust that this truce with the Starks will follow through?" She questioned, paying close attention to his physical reactions. "It's clear they don't entirely trust us, nor do we entirely trust them. The Boltons have already agreed to dissolve their traditions for the greater good. Your father even offered your sister's hand. What if that is not enough?"

Rodner exhaled a sigh, "What are you getting at, Mariya?" he questioned. He doubted very much that his sister could pull off her end of the alliance, she was probably trying to scheme her way out of it at the moment.

"If war strikes all over again—if the worst occurs and you pass on, can you truly trust Grennan to carry on your family's legacy?" Mariya asked, icy eyes staring into his.

Rodner shook his head, "Grennan is not made to rule, even I admit Freya would be better suited for it. But, if I know what you're getting at, I agree, it's time we produce an heir."

A smile crept on Mariya's thin lips and she leaned in to pepper sweet kisses over his pale face. "I knew you would understand."

Rodner smiled and wrapped his arms around Mariya, "We could start right now." He whispered in her ear.

Mariya giggled and cupped his face. "Where your brother or anyone else could step in at any given moment?"

"Let's take this back to our quarters." Rodner said as he stood. He grabbed Mariya's hand and led her away. If all went as Mariya had planned the two would produce an heir in no time, securing her spot for at least one more generation.

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Morning, once again, came too early for Freya. She awoke to the sound of her handmaidens entering her room and groaned when they opened the curtains of her room and she scowled as sunlight shone through. She stretched in bed and slowly sat up. She ordered her handmaidens to prepare her for the day and once they were done there was a knock at the door. One of the handmaidens opened the door to reveal Prince Bronden.

"Good morning." Freya greeted, rather coldly. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Sensing the tension, Bronden offered a small smile. "May I speak to you?" He asked, giving the handmaidens a look. "Alone."

Freya dismissed her handmaidens with a snap of her fingers. They succuried out of the room as Freya sat on her bed, "What is it? I'm surprised you haven't brought back up, since us Boltons are so dangerous."

Prince Bronden sighed as he took a few steps closer. "I'm sorry." He told her with sincerity in his tone. "What happened yesterday was a mistake."

Freya tilted her head to the side, "Was it? Because it sure didn't seem like one to me."

"I did not mean to offend you." Bronden insisted. "I supposed seeing you all here brought up old wounds that I hadn't allowed to fully heal..."

"You accused my brother of harming his wife." Freya said as she crossed her arms. "Rodner would never harm a woman, he doesn't have it in him, he's not a true Bolton."

"Can you really blame me though?" Prince Bronden began in his defense. "All my life I have heard horrid tales about the Boltons and their atrocities. How was I or anyone to know Rodner would be any different?"

"If we're so horrible..." Freya trailed off as she stood. She approached Bronden and trailed a finger down his cheek. "Then why are you marrying me?"

"You know why." Prince Bronden replied, eyes locked on her's. "I do not fear you Boltons, I merely feared what could've been done to the person I once loved."

"You still love her, Bronden." Freya said. "There's no sense in denying it."

Prince Bronden's russet curls bounced as he shook his head. "No. I have love for her but I cannot continue to be in love with someone who abandoned me in favor of my enemy."

Freya smirked, "So we're enemies now? And here I thought we had made peace." She teased as she twirled her hair between her fingers.

The prince sighed again. "You know what I mean." He began, falling silent for a moment before continuing. "Have you never been in love?"

Freya mused it over for a moment, "Yes, once." She simply replied as she stepped away from Bronden, she made her way towards the window and glanced outside. "My brother found us out and brought us before my father who killed him on the spot."

"I..." Prince Bronden trailed, taken aback and at a loss for words. "I'm sorry that happened to you." He finally said. "The loss of one's first love maims the heart forever."

"It was my fault, really, I should have been more discreet." Freya said with a shrug, as if it didn't bother her.

"His death is not your fault, Freya. Your father took his life, not you." Bronden reassured her.

"Perhaps, but still I knew what my father was capable of." Freya mused.

"That still doesn't make you the blame." Prince Bronden replied.

Freya shrugged her shoulders, she had always blamed herself for what had transpired, and one little conversation with Bronden Stark wasn't going to change how she felt about her previous affair.

A brief moment of silence passed before Prince Bronden cleared his throat. "Perhaps the two of us could start over?" He offered with a simper.

Freya nodded her assent, she didn't want to, but her instructions from her brother were clear, she had to make this farce of a betrothal work, at least until she was actually married to the Stark heir.

"Splendid." Bronden said, offering her his arm. "Shall I escort you to breakfast?"

Freya nodded again, as she took his arm. She forced herself to smile at him, and hated every moment of playing nice with the soft Stark prince.