Ours is the Fury | Game of Thrones OC

42

My third day at Winterfell was spent on the walls, watching the landscape, the snowy white blanket covering the land was beautiful but had a feeling with it.

So much world but I was trapped in these walls with nowhere to go but south, when all I wanted to do was go further north, go where no one could force me to go anywhere. Go somewhere where I was truly free.

"We should go inside, your grace" Nyla murmured, taking my arm but I shrugged her off.

"I like the fresh air" I insisted, leaning my elbows against the stone wall.

"You will be leaving for the south at nightfall" She reminded me, "Perhpas you would like some rest before you set off?"

"I am resting" I told her, "I'm probably going to sit in my room for the rest of my life, I want to see the sky while I can"

"But your brother is the king, isn't he?" Nyla questioned, wringing her hands then releasing them, then picking her fingernails.

"He is, but I'm sure there is someone behind him" I sighed, "Lord Bolton told me last night that he has a queen, the Tyrell girl"

"I hear she is popular with the people" Nyla added and I chuckled.

"She's a snake" I grumbled, "I met her several times in the past, all she wanted was power, like everyone else. She's using my brother"

"What if he's happy?" She wondered aloud.

"I'm sure he thinks he is" I scoffed, "Maybe it's a good thing that I'm going back, I can save him from himself, god knows he needs it"

"Will you not be free when you return?" She asked and I looked down calmly.

"No" Was all I said and she seemed to see the conversation was over and stepped away, keeping me in her sights but far enough away to give me my space.

The snow began to fall slowly, settling on the already padded floor and flecking my dark hair with white. Nyla had tried to braid it or even brush it but I dismissed her, she wasn't my maid she was my jailer and I didn't want either of us to get confused. Instead, it floated in its messy waves, the cold winter wind blowing it this way and that.

The fresh snow felt so new and I adored the feeling, it was wonderful to have something so fresh and clean, untainted.

I took a long deep breath then released it.

"Let us go inside, Nyla" I announced and she jumped, shivering slightly.

"Of course, your grace!" She flew forward to take my arm and drew me indoors and I sat in front of my fire while she prepared my travelling clothes and droned on about how much she wished to see the south. Apparently, she was born and raised in the north, was brought to Winterfell shortly after the Starks left and the Boltons set her to work as a lady's maid, chambermaid, scullery maid and any other jobs they needed. I couldn't care less but I just listened and absorbed to pass the time.

"Take this" She lay the fur cloak on my lap and I touched the collar lightly, I had pushed it away everytime she offered it but this time, I simply nodded.

Then I put on the thick cotton travelling dress, letting her lace the back tightly, and then the boots until she finally fitted the furs to my shoulders. My hair still sitting loose made her frown but she didn't insist on braiding it.

"We should go down" She finally murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face, "It's getting dark"

"I know" I sighed, pushing her hand away.

Together, we exited the guest quarters and descended the steps into the empty courtyard which was now lit by lanterns instead of sunlight.

Lord Bolton and Ramsay stood over us on the balcony, both in full northern attire. Roose wore a plain expression, neither excited nor disappointed while Ramsay seemed conniving and ready for a surprise with that sickening grin.

There were five men waiting with horses, three were southerners and two were northern. Three were going home then, two were leaving home, I wondered when they would be able to return.

The horse waiting for me was purely grey, beautiful but unique, there was a saddle waiting and Nyla fitted my single bag to it, all that was inside was a blanket and a thinner dress. She was kind but not honest, I knew she agreed with the Boltons and supported them. What was worse is it wasn't by choice, she believed their lies and manipulations, when you're told something and told to believe it? You believe it.

"Goodbye, your grace" She curtseyed slightly, smiling softly at me and I nodded in return, acknowledging her false kindness.

"Come here" One of the men took my arm and walked me to my horse which I swung onto easily, I was a princess after all, I knew how to ride a horse. My skirts were wide and longer than necessary, hence the travelling dress, so they covered my legs up until my boots began, thankfully. I didn't want five bored men staring my flesh for weeks on end.

Once I was comfortable, the same man grabbed my wrist and I tried to pull away but he simply clamped a metal cuff around it, the same to my other. Then I was attached to the saddle, unable to jump off and unable to run away unless I wished to be shackled to a ton of leather for the rest of my life.

"Is this necessary?" I grumbled under my breath, no one heard me of course, no one was listening.

The first man mounted his own horse and disappeared out the open gate, two more followed and then I was pushed to go.

Once I was out the gate, I heard something.

"Lya!" A girl called out and I craned my neck to find the source, a girl with auburn hair had joined the two Boltons at the balcony. She was gaunt and sad looking but her red locks were not mistaken.

It was Sansa.

"Sansa?" I called out, wrestling with my horse, "SANSA!", I shrieked but I was pushed on and soon I watched as she was ushered back inside.

My heart was aching at the thought of leaving her there, how could this happen?

Sansa was Ramsay's wife? She was the woman he locked away and didn't let anyone see? She was the empty place at the table?

The entire time I was in that place, so was she? When I thought she was safe, safe enough, in Kings Landing with my brother, she was here. She was suffering at the hands of a sadistic maniac.

Poor girl. Poor, defenceless girl. I couldn't imagine the pain ad suffering she had been through since leaving the capital.

When had she left? Did she know what happened to my brother?

I tried to push the thoughts away, we were both trapped, I couldn't help her and she was in no position to help me.

It was a game. Ramsay was playing a game with me the entire time I was under his roof. He hid her away until he knew it would affect me the most, when I was already gone.

He was a bastard, literally and insultingly.