Summary: In reward for his role in the Red Wedding, Lord Bolton was given the North but he was also given something else from the Lannisters: Sansa Stark.
A.N: This was inspired by another Roose and Sansa fanfiction that made me ship these two.
Lord Bolton and Walda Frey did not marry in this. Instead, the Lannisters promised Sansa to Lord Bolton if he went through with the Red Wedding.
The sun gently streamed through the gap in the curtains casting flecks of gold across the room causing Sansa to slowly rouse from her slumber. Sighing, she turned over in an attempt to drift back to sleep. It wasn't to be though as Shae hastily entered the room, walked over to the window and opened the curtains allowing even more sunlight to filter into the room. Sansa sighed again before opening her eyes.
"I'm sorry, my lady… some men arrived this morning… and Her Grace wishes to see you…"
"Which men?" Sansa asked, climbing out of the bed and pulling on her robe.
"They had the sigil of the flayed man… which house is that again?" Sansa snapped her head to face Shae. Why would Lord Bolton have sent men to Kings Landing when he was aiding Robb in his fight against the Lannisters? Unless they were here to offer Robb's surrender and the war would finally be over.
"Are you sure you saw Lord Bolton's men?"
"Quite sure…" She confirmed picking up Sansa's dress
"How strange…" Sansa replied. It was very strange.
Before long, Sansa had washed, dressed and eaten and was walking through the Red Keep to the Queen Regent's chambers. Apprehension took hold of her. What could the Cersei possibly want with her at this hour? Unless Robb had surrendered and Cersei wanted to gloat. But if Robb had surrendered why wasn't he here? Why hadn't he come to ask to be pardoned by Joffrey, not that Sansa trusted Joffrey to do so. It didn't make any sense. Unless Robb didn't want to be pardoned by Joffrey. But then why would Lord Bolton's men and possibly Lord Bolton be here? She was so confused. Sighing, she stopped outside of Cersei's door. The guard knocked and announced her before opening to door to Cersei's solar. Hesitantly, Sansa walked in.
"Little Dove, take a seat…" The Queen Regent said gesturing to the seat opposite her. Sansa did as she was told. "You must be wondering why I asked to see you…"
"Yes, your grace…" she swallowed.
"I have some news for you…" Sansa looked up to meet the woman's gaze suddenly overcome with a sense of dread. "Well two pieces really…" Again, Sansa swallowed. "We have some guests… from Lord Bolton…" She frowned. So Lord Bolton himself wasn't here. "They brought a letter from Lord Bolton…" Sansa's heart was thumping in her chest, she was sweating. Cersei was going to tell her that Robb had surrendered. "It seems there was an attack on your brother, mother and brother's men at the twins where they were attending your uncle's wedding."
"An attack?"
"Yes, your mother and brother are dead… killed by Lord Bolton and Lord Frey." The words began playing on repeat in Sansa's head. They were dead. Lord Bolton had betrayed her brother, his king. Inside she was screaming, every fibre of her being hurting. But she didn't react.
"They were traitors." She stated and Cersei blinked at her in shock. The girl had just been told that the final members of her family had been killed and there was no display of emotion from her, none at all. "The other news, your grace?" Sansa asked not wanting to think about Robb and her mother, if she thought about it, her mask would slip.
"Ah yes… you might like this…" Cersei began. "You're returning to the North…"
Sansa frowned. "I am?"
"Yes. Lord Frey and Lord Bolton broke guest right on my father's orders and in return, Lord Frey will get the Riverlands. Lord Bolton gets Winterfell and is the new warden of the north." Sansa's mouth dropped. "To strengthen his claim… Lord Bolton also gets you. That's why his men are here, to take you to him." Cersei gloated. It took all of Sansa's strength to not react to Cersei's words.
"When… when are we to leave?" She asked, not really caring for the answer but not knowing what else to say.
"As soon as your things are packed. I hear Lord Bolton wants to be married as soon as possible. Congratulations Little Dove, you are finally going home…"
Sansa smiled. "Thank you, Your Grace. I'm looking forward to it. Perhaps you might excuse me so I can oversee my packing."
"Certainly… I think Lord Bolton's men want to depart after the mid-day meal." Sansa nodded, stood up and left the room. It wasn't until she got back to her own room that she finally allowed herself to feel, allowed herself to grieve. And grieve she did. As soon as the door closed behind her, she collapsed in a heap on the floor, the built up tears flowing freely. They were all gone, she was the only one left. The last Stark of Winterfell. Well, for now anyways. They had taken everything from her: her pride, her dignity, her freedom and before long, they would take her name too. The honourable Stark would be replaced with the traitorous Bolton. He had killed her brother and now she had to marry him. Yet again she was a mere pawn in the great game.
Oh gods, she would have to share a bed with him. A sob escaped her lips at the thought. How was she supposed to marry the man that had betrayed her family and killed her brother?
You will do it because it is your duty. The voice of her mother echoed around the room. The tears stopped and her body went numb. Duty? She laughed. It was duty that got her into this situation. It was her father's duty to his king that found her betrothed to Joffrey. It was duty to her Joffrey that resulted in her father's death which started the war that resulted into her brother and mother's death. And now it was duty that would see her married to the traitor and murderer that was Lord Bolton. Duty that would see her carry his children. She felt sick. There had to be a way out. She could escape once they were on the road, couldn't she?
Shae returned to the room sometime later to find Sansa still sat on the floor.
"My lady, what is it? Is it your marriage? They sent me to pack your things… I'm sure it won't be that bad… and you get to go home…away from Joffrey."
"My mother and brother are dead, murdered by my future husband… well my brother anyway, I don't know who killed my mother."
"My lady, I'm so sorry for your loss." She took Sansa's hand and pulled her to her feet. "But for now, you need to bury your grief somewhere deep within. You will avenge their deaths and all the wrongs that have been done to you but for now, you need to get ready to leave Kings Landing." Sansa nodded, Shae was right, she would avenge their deaths. "At least you're going home…" That was also true. Sansa had for so long now wished to return to Winterfell and now she would as Lady Bolton, Lady of the Dreadfort and Wardeness of the North. She was going home.
When Sansa finally made her way out into the courtyard, she was greeted by a whole host of men, fifty perhaps. When Cersei had told her that Lord Bolton had sent men for her, she was expecting a dozen or so, not anywhere near as many as there was standing in front of her. Could this be a sign that he wanted to keep her safe? No, he just wanted to make sure she was delivered to him and not lost or kidnapped somewhere along the Kings Road. Fifty men would make it very difficult to escape if she was still going through with that plan. She hadn't quite decided either way so for now, she was doing what was expected of her.
"My lady, I'm Ser Banefort... Captain of the Guard. Lord Bolton sent us to escort you to him at the Dreadfort." The man at the front of the host informed her. He had a stern face and spoke with conviction. Beside him, Sansa noticed was a horse without a rider. Did they expect her to ride all the way to the Dreadfort? She was not that confident of a rider, no that was Arya's area of expertise she mused. On the other side was Tyrion, he smiled at her.
"The Dreadfort? Forgive me sir but I thought we would be going to Winterfell."
"No, not yet. It is still being rebuilt under Lord Bolton's instructions." So the Winterfell she would return to, was her not home after all. She sighed. Well at least she was leaving Kings Landing.
"Good luck Little Dove..." Cersei said from behind Sansa. Her, Joffrey and some of the court had come to say farewell to the last Stark as she returned to the North, no less a prisoner than she had been in the capital. "Remember what I taught you."
Sansa nodded. "Goodbye your grace." Next it was Joffrey's turn.
"It is fitting that you should marry the man who killed your brother... there's something quite beautiful about it."
"Goodbye your grace." She repeated, her words void of emotion. Then she turned her back and aided by the stable hand mounted the horse provided for her. With one last look at her captors, Sansa Stark departed the Red Keep and Kings Landing.
It was a hard ride and Sansa struggled to keep up with the pace of Ser Banefort at the front of the men. Instead, more often than not she found herself in the middle next to Shae and Lord Tyrion. They too were finding it difficult.
"Boy these men are fun..." Tyrion remarked and Sansa giggled.
"What do you expect they are Lord Bolton's men, he's not exactly a man associated with fun." Shae replied before her eyes fell upon Sansa and she realised her mistake. "Forgive me, my lady."
"Why? You were being honest." Sansa shrugged. "There's no point pretending that my future husband is something he isn't."
They rode in silence for a little while before Sansa spoke again. "Lord Tyrion, why are you here?"
"I'm delivering a message from my sister…"
"So you're not responsible for me?"
"No, that is the job of the men your betrothed sent."
"So… if I was to escape, it would not be your job to find me?"
"Lady Sansa whilst it would not be my job, I must advise against it. These men would find you and would have to inform Lord Bolton. I can't imagine he would take kindly to his bride trying to run away." Tyrion answered. "I know he killed your brother, I know that the thought of marrying him makes you feel sick and you will never forgive him for what he did but my lady, it could be worse. It could be the King." Tyrion was right but that still didn't stop her from considering it. Besides if Lord Bolton knew he had an unwilling bride perhaps he would put a stop to the whole thing. That was if they found her of course. If she escaped once night had fallen, it would be first light before they realised that she was missing, she would be quite far by then. Lord Bolton's men would have horses, she reasoned but if she travelled on foot all night, it would be some time before they caught up with her. Jon was at Castle Black, if she stayed on the Kings Road, she would end up there. He would protect her, wouldn't he? And so it was decided. She would attempt it. What did she have to lose? She had already lost her family and her freedom and after what Joffrey had done to her, she could take any punishment Lord Bolton inflicted on her if she was found.
They stopped just before nightfall and set up camp. Sansa was given her own tent which was guarded by Ser Banefort and another man who she had not be introduced to. Sometime after supper, Tyrion entered her tent, poured himself a glass of wine and took a seat opposite her.
"Here's what we are going to do…" He said and Sansa frowned. "I will spook the horses and let a few go free. In the time that your tent is unguarded, you will run. Shae will get into bed and pretend to be you. She will then, in the morning enter your tent 'discover' you missing and report it."
"Why are you helping me?" Sansa asked.
"Because I was reminded of all the pain my family has put you through and I don't think it is fair for that to continue." Tyrion confessed without a trace of dishonesty.
"Thank you."
"Right, I will do it now, make sure the tent is unguarded and run!" He stood up and walked to the flap of the tent before wishing her a goodnight. Sansa smiled, touched by his helping.
Suddenly, there was a loud bang followed by the neighing of horses and the shouts of men. Sansa peered out the tent. There was no-one in sight. Without thinking, she pulled her cloak around her shoulders and ran. She kept running until her legs would go no further and then she stopped. She sat down against a tree, closed her eyes and slept.
It was nearly first light when Sansa heard the sound of horses' hooves in the distance. They had discovered her missing earlier than Tyrion had planned. Frantically, she stood up and ran. She didn't know where she was going nor did she care, she just had to get away. Sansa could hear the horses closer now and the sound of men talking. Her heart was thumping. What should she do? She wasn't so how much further she could run before her legs gave in. She could hide. Rapidly, Sansa climbed into the hedgerow. Then she waited.
"We can't return to the Dreadfort without her…" Ser Banefort said after someone had commented that it was pointless. "Lord Bolton will flay us all." Sansa held her breath. She closed her eyes and prayed silently. The horses went past. She let out the held breath and opened her eyes. Tyrion was directly in her vision, shaking her head, mouthing at her to stay where she was. She nodded.
"Perhaps we should accept that we've lost her?" He suggested to the men in front of him. Suddenly, a branch snapped. It wasn't Sansa but she froze anyway as did Tyrion. There noise hadn't come from near Sansa but as the men looked around to see where it had come from, one of them noticed Sansa. He rode up to Tyrion to was the closer man to him and whispered "I've found her."
"You've found her?" Tyrion exclaimed loudly. "Where?" but it was no use. Sansa was surrounded, she couldn't escape now. The rest of the men were now aware of her hiding place and proceeded to dismount. Tyrion stopped them.
"Let me, she might come of her own accord that way." Ser Banefort agreed. Tyrion dismounted, climbed into the hedgerow and sat beside Sansa.
"I'm sorry, my lady. They checked on you early than I thought they would."
"What happens now?" Sansa asked.
"You have to return willingly or they will use force. I will make sure that they don't tell Lord Bolton."
"Thank you." She said and stood up before making her way out of her hiding place. Tyrion followed her. Once again. Sansa was back in the hands of her captors.
The rest of the journey consisted of fast riding over difficult terrain. Ser Banefort was determined to not arrive at the Dreadfort later than expected. Especially when Tyrion had persuaded the men not to tell their lord about Sansa's escape attempt; he had told them that Lord Bolton would blame them for it and he did not want to be in their shoes when Lord Bolton found out. That had been enough to swear them to secrecy much to Sansa's annoyance initially. Then she realised that Lord Bolton would probably go through with the wedding regardless of her approval or consent and she did not want to be punished for trying to escape.
On the fifteen day since leaving Kings Landing, the travelling party came into view of the Dreadfort. Sansa shivered. In the days following her attempted escape she had forced herself to forget about Lord Bolton and her impending marriage but now that the Dreadfort was in sight, the reality of it all washed over her. She felt sick.
"My lady perhaps, you should go to the front?" Tyrion suggested and she nodded weakly.
"I've sent a rider on ahead to let Lord Bolton know that we are here…" Ser Banefort informed her as she joined him at the front of the host. She nodded in response, not sure of what she was supposed to say to him.
Before long, they were riding through the gates of the Dreadfort. Sansa's mouth was dry and her hands were shaking. Ser Banefort led her through into the courtyard. She saw him. Lord Bolton. The traitor and murderer.