A Lion Still Has Claws

Part 3

The heat grew the more they traveled, slowly shifting into unbearable weather. The whores brought to the camp wore fewer clothes, Rhaenyra caught accidental glimpses. The Bolton party refused to tell her where their destination lay. But she was not a simpleton, the horde was taking her South. Rhaenyra longed to be ignorant of the fact, her assumption being correct ensued irrational fears and fictitious occurrences that plagued her at the latest hours.

A week into their travels, she was given the privilege of leaving the carriage. Her father seemed to gain sympathy for his grandchildren and offered her to escort around the camp's grounds. Rhaenyra refused, naturally. She found comfort in the horde's large crowd and the ability to hide within. She and her sons would walk beside the horses in the heat of the day, Bella loyally at their side. At sunset, Rhaenyra would retreat back to her safe carriage to save herself from the men's remarks. 

Her first free walk was months ago, it shifted from a privilege to a mandatory activity. Pressed against her chest was Robb in his sling made from the curtains of the carriage. The baby did not mind for he was soothed with every step she took. Rhaenyra placed a hand to his back to ensure his security. He hummed into her chest as she continued walking. She lifted her hand to the back of his head, pushing her fingers through his growing hair. He was growing fast, too quickly for her liking. 

Her eldest sons stood in before her separating the men and riders. The two easily ignored them. Her sons were on a mission to find the perfect rocks. Domeric would shout for his mother, Henry echoing, it was an attempt to gift her with their best find. One would rush back to her and present her with their treasure, it was a continuous pattern. Rhaenyra would laugh and thank them, pocketing the rock in her dress. The two stopped after several miles, Henry moved to hold her hand while Domeric freely walked. 

Domeric raised his hand to his eyes, a small attempt to shield himself from the sun. His face shifted to a bright red as he whined, "It is too hot!" He dropped his hand to his forehead, whipping the sweat. "Where are we going? We have been walking forever!" 

Rhaenyra laughed at her son's dramatics and placed her free hand against his curls. "If I knew, I would tell you." Her hand fell from his head as they continued their walk. Henry whined beside her, not used to walking at his age. She pursed her lips and searched for Bella. Henry continued to pull against her hand as she searched the crowd for the young maid was not in proximity.

"Are we going South?" Domeric questioned.

His mother shrugged, eyes still searching "I think so." Henry yanked against her, she sighed and flexed her arm to lift him slightly off the ground. He shrieked as he rose. "But I do not know how far South."

"Everyone says it is hot in the South."

Rhaenyra smiled, "And who is everyone?"

Domeric was interrupted by Bella rushing beside his brother. She pulled him off his mother's arm and muttered quick apologizes. The young maid retreated back to the carriage with him. Rhaenyra smiled as Henry fell into her embrace, relaxed from his walk.

"Mum!"

"What," she paused, "Yes love."

"I didn't answer your question its rude to leave no answer."

Rhaenyra nodded, "Alright. Who told you it was hotter in the South?" 

Domeric was once again interrupted. Silence erupted around them, the horse trots stalled and the men's sentences halted. Roose Bolton walked to Rhaenyra and her children. His icy blue eyes appeared more lifeless, no remorse shone through the arrogant glare. He stood proudly amongst the North's disloyal men. Rhaenyra's gaze met his instantly, she refused to cower away.

Rhaenyra's hate boiled at the sight of Roose. She had not seen him since the wedding. His clothes remained bloodstained, for a brief moment she wondered whose blood he adorned so proudly.

"Go to the carriage I will be there soon." Her heart quickened at the sound of her son's running. He would be safe. Rhaenyra's hate boiled at the sight of Roose. She had

She reached to her pocket feeling the cool stones that rested within. Her fingers wrapped around a single one. In a swift motion, she threw it at Roose. Rhaenyra's breathing shallowed as she reached for another rock, her other hand rested against Robb. The poor babe began to cry against her. 

"Rhaenyra!" Roose screamed, an annoyed expression upon his face. Rhaenyra rushed to him, a protective hand remaining upon her son. Her eyes darkened as she reached for the sword at his side. She hurriedly kicked at his feet, causing him to lose focus on her actions. Rhaenyra hit him with the hilt of the sword. He fell back to the ground. She easily pressed the blade against his neck.

"Give me a single reason." She tilted the blade to raise his head. Their eyes met, "Any reason why I should not gut you in front of the traitors you call men." Rhaenyra felt the eyes on her, the lingering judgment from the Bolton men had lost its meaning.

She felt powerful, a rightful decider over her father's life. Rhaenyra saw the fear in his eyes. Roose Bolton had no fears, but there he was scared of his mournful daughter. She knew the control she held. It enticed her as well as the ability to elicit such things. Rhaenyra knew she must kill him, for vengeance and closure. But the thought drifted away as her son's cries loudened. 

Roose spoke, "You won't kill me." She pressed the sword further into his neck as her hand began to shake. He calmly pushed it away. "I am your father, your liege lord." He delicately reached for the sword from his place on the ground. Rhaenyra rose it to her side out of his reach. Her violet eyes bore into his as he continued, "I only wished to give you the courtesy of telling you where we were headed."

Rhaenyra scoffed, "South." 

"Yes, but the destination is the Capital." Roose began to stand, his daughter gave him a questioning look. He held his hands behind his back as he offered his rationale. "You are my pawn once more. The Lannisters have offered a handsome engagement for you and Ser Jaime." He smiled as if giving fine news.

Rhaenyra's heart raced. She swung the sword at him, he jumped back. "You are not," she missed. "I am not going to remarry!" Rhaenyra lifted her weapon once more, finally knicking his arm. "My husband has just died!" She was ready to strike his neck when arms pulled the blade away. Both her arms were pinned to her side by an unknown person, she continued to scream. "I am not a mare to be sold any longer. I am the Queen in the North." Robb's cries continued as she thrashed out of the aggressive embrace. She freed herself to rush back to Roose. "I am the Pretty Wolf! How dare you try to sell me off again." Her shouts echoed, her face reddened from anger.

Roose's eyes fell to his bleeding shoulder. "You were, daughter." He turned to her, his features contrasting her angry visage. "As you were the Pretty Wolf. You are once again a Bolton." He walked smoothly to her. Rhaenyra's hands protectively went to her crying child. "The only Starks in Westeros are your children." Roose turned to leave, arm dripping onto the dirt. "But soon they will lose the respect they earned as children of the North. The respect that was given to them through the wolven birthright."  

Rhaenyra watched as he walked away, back into the protection of his men. She let out a deep sob, falling to her knees as it ripped through her person. Her hands gripped Robb, he soothed back into a calm state at her touch. She envied him.