Ours is the Fury | Game of Thrones OC

39

Several nights passed, I slept on the cold wet floor with nothing but a moth eaten blanket that one of the soldiers tossed me after my teeth chattering supposedly kept him awake.

They kept one man awake at any one time and another to watch me sleep which I found quite distasteful.

One night, the man who was watching me decided he couldn't stay awake much longer and when he began to snore, I woke with a fright.

Slowly, I shifted my weight until I was far enough away in order to sit up without stirring the soldier. Then I took the blanket from the floor and wrapped it around my shoulders, climbing to my feet and stepping calmly over the sleeping men.

Once free of them, I raced as quickly as I could away from them.

Then I felt a cold feeling rush through me, I had lost sight of the soldier that was watching the border, I continued to step away from the others until I could no longer see the lanterns they kept.

I began to think that I might be free of them when an elbow landed in the centre of my back and sent me sprawling into the snow. A cry flew out of me and I tried to crawl away but the awake soldier grabbed my hair and pulled me to my feet. He shoved my face against the nearest tree then brought his lips to my ear.

"Nice try" He growled then hauled me off towards the camp, I had felt the bark of the tree scratch my face and when my hands were free, the lantern light showed blood on my fingers. I groaned but the soldier was already on me, tying my wrists together then to a tree where I was stuck for the rest of the evening.

So much for my great escape.

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"Don't do that again" The leader must've got wind when he woke to find me tied to a tree because he slapped me hard when I grimaced.

So we continued our journey to Winterfell where I would find my fate on a silver platter, a bunch of grumpy soldiers that would take me back to the capital.

I would also meet the new Warden of the North, Lord Bolton, I shouldn't think the Starks and their allies would be too pleased about the change. However, I would have to be civil as to stay alive, who knows how prickly the Boltons would be.

"What are they like?" I asked the quietest and youngest soldier who looked up suddenly.

"Who?" He grumbled as I hung back to talk to him quietly.

"The Boltons" I added, rolling my eyes.

"Why do you care?" He scowled and I was taken aback by his tone, I thought he was kind.

"I was curious as to my captors" I verified and he snorted loudly, a couple of the others cast him a glance.

"Knowing more about them isn't going to help" the man hissed, storming ahead of me while the other jabbed me in the back to keep moving.

I tried all of them and none of them would give me anything except vague answers like their leader told me he was paid well. Being in his position, I could've assumed that much already but nevertheless I now knew it to be true.

The days of walking seemed to be never ending and I willed myself to attempt an escape every night but the bruise in the centre of my back was a reminder to not even think about it anymore.

It was merely weeks before we saw the towers of Winterfell and something quite warm erupted in my stomach. It was dashed by the stories I had heard of Robb and his mothers death, then of Sansa in Kings Landing and even the death of their dear father. The place brought pain to me and I could hardly bare to stare at it any longer.