Hello! I'm so sorry you all had to wait so long to hear from me. College and work have kept me really busy. Luckily, I'm back with what I hope is an enjoyable new chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. I was really overwhelmed and touched by how much of a response I got from you all. Every one of you is amazing and I hope you enjoy this next chapter! Please remember to leave a review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire.

Warning: I've bumped the story rating up to M for a good reason. There is mild swearing and attempted rape in this chapter. If you don't want to read the intense stuff, skip down and start reading after the italics.

Chapter 1: Nightmares

The sun lingered just above the horizon and its golden rays bathed the forest in brilliance as Hazelyn walked towards the tall, menacing, figure of the Dreadfort. All seemed quiet and peaceful in the woods, the silence only disrupted by the distant babbling of the Weeping Water.

She yawned loudly as she made her way to a low ivy-covered wall surrounding the the foundations of the castle. The four and ten year old had not slept at all the night before. She had been nursing the sick younger brother of her friend Darren down in the village. She needed to get back to her chambers before the changing of the guard. Surely, Septa Elena would cover for her if it came down to it, but she could only hold off the new guard for so long. If the man was loyal to her father and reported her missing, both Elena and she would have to answer for it. Hazelyn shivered and shook her head, not wanting to think of what horrid and convoluted punishment he would come up with this time if he found out she had snuck out of the keep again.

She reached the barricade and stared up at the ivy hanging from it. She could attempt to pull herself over, but her limbs ached with exhaustion. Sighing, the young woman propped herself up against the wall and slid down to sit on the forest floor. Marvion, the guard who had escorted her out of the keep and into the village, would follow behind in a few minutes, and he would have the strength to hoist her over.

Hazelyn felt under her skirts for a leather strap on her thigh. She carefully pulled a thin, sharp knife out of it along with a with a tiny pouch. The blade flashed in the light of the rising sun as she positioned it between the fingers of her left hand. She opened the pouch and a small wooden figurine rolled out into the palm of her other hand. Her grey eyes studied the half finished figure of a dragon. She bit her lip in concentration as she brought the knife to the wood and began to scrape away bits and pieces to give the dragon more shape.

Hazelyn had been steadily working on the wooden dragon for several minutes when the sound of crunching leaves caught her attention.

"Marvion, where have you been? I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me," the girl said as she glanced up. Instead of seeing the tall, stoic guard however, she laid eyes upon a young man. He appeared to be no more than a few name days older than herself and was dressed in simple brown garments, patched and threadbare. She could could not recall seeing him before, but something about his mop of dark hair and menacing gray eyes seemed unsettlingly familiar. The way he leered at her and his sinister smile disturbed her as well.

"Who-who are you?"

He gave no answer as he stalked towards her. She stood up, brandishing her knife, and pointed it towards the threatening man. ''Don't come any closer and tell me who you are!" she commanded in a shaky voice. The young man ignored the demand and continued to move towards Hazelyn. She gripped her knife harder, readying to lunge at him. However, when she moved to cut him, he reached out and gripped her wrist, twisting it sharply. She yelped in pain and her fingers involunterily flexed open, causing the knife to fall to the ground. He pushed her roughly up against the wall. She hit the stone barrier with a resounding thud and the breath was knocked out of her.

Hazelyn struggled uselessly against him as he began to grind his body against hers. She felt as if she couldn't breath wedged between his rough body and the hard stone wall. The rocks dug painfully into her back as his course hands groped her hips and chest. He continued to ram her painfully against the wall and his rank breath made her want to vomit. She opened her mouth to scream but he placed a dirty hand firmly across it. His other hand gripped her hip so hard that it would surely leave bruises.

He raised his face from her her dark hair and smiled viciously. His light gray eyes, so distant yet strikingly familiar, shined with sick pleasure.

"You're even prettier than I thought. A true Bolton woman. I really couldn't tell much from a distance, just that you had a nice ass." The hand gripping her hip slid down to give her behind a firm squeeze. She shivered in disgust and struggled vehemently against him. Not knowing what else to do, she acted purely on instinct, opening her mouth quickly and biting down on his hand as hard as she could. The iron taste of blood filled her mouth as the young man shouted and tore his hand away. She let out a shriek of anger as she pushed against him with all her strength. Yet the youth kept her pinned, and now recovered from his pain, simply chuckled darkly at her.

"So you're a fighter, are you? A true Bolton indeed. Should make this all the more fun."

The sick man reached down to pull up her skirts as she wiggled against him. He ran his fingers slowly up her leg. Hazelyn had never felt more disgusting in her life. She closed her eyes tightly as the hand reached he inner thigh, trying to hold in her oncoming tears, when she heard an angry shout. Suddenly the pressure of the man's body was gone. Her legs gave way as she fell to the ground.

Hazelyn awoke with a scream as she sat up straight in bed. She was drenched in sweat and tears streaked her cheeks. She clutched at her chest, feeling as if she couldn't breath. She could not make sense out of the blurred colors and garbled noises around her. She felt strong hands holding her to her bed and a cool sensation on her forehead. As she slowly regained control of her breathing, her vision came into focus to reveal the concerned faces of Septa Elena and her maid Myna.

"Zel! Zel, can you hear me? You're alright. It was just a dream."

"Praise the Gods, she's coming back to us! Sweetling, you're all right! Open your eyes. That's it."

Elena gently stroked damp strands of dark hair from Hazelyn's forehead with a wet cloth while Myna grabbed her shaking hand. Hazelyn's gaze darted around chamber while the maid and septa eased her down onto the pillows.

"What were you dreaming about, Zel?" Myna asked. Her dark brown eyes bored into Hazelyn, compelling her to tell the truth. Myna had an effect on Hazelyn that no one else did. The girl, much like Elena, took no nonsense from anyone and did what she wanted to, damn the consequences. She and Hazelyn had been good friends from the time they were little girls. Myna's mother had served as a hand maid to the late Lady Bethany Bolton and had brought a young Myna along to the castle to keep Hazelyn company. After Lady Bethany's death, Elena had managed to convince Roose to let Hazelyn take Myna on as her own maid.

Hazelyn wanted to tell her friend about her dream, but she just couldn't. No one, not even Elena, could ever know how dirty and disgusting she had truly become. She bit her lip and looked away from her friend, crossing her arms and turning away in her bed.

"I don't remember. I just want to sleep."

Septa Elena's brow pinched into a furious scowl and her lips down turned into a frown. Her voice snapped like the harshest northern wind.

"You will not shut us out after what has just happened! You've been reclusive enough these past few months. You will not be a shut in like your mother became!"

The old septa's wrinkled hands gripped Hazelyn's shoulders and firmly yanked her back towards them. Hazelyn's eyes widened in surprise and she cringed at a sharp, aching pain that shot through her shoulders as the septa jolted them.

"Anyway, we need to change out your bandages. Sit up and raise your arms."

Hazelyn stared at her normally gentle septa with a blank expression as she sat up with Myna's assistance. She tried not wince as her night gown was removed from her body, revealing large white bandages swathed across her back and shoulders. Myna pulled the bandages away and Elena moved in with her rag to clean to wounds. Raised bloody welts and numerous puckered pink scars created by leeches covered Hazelyn's shoulders and back.

"Child, why in the seven hells did you storm into the great hall and then bark at your father? The man may be fowl and deserve it, but you know better than to cross him outright like you did," Septa Elena murmured as she wiped away dried blood.

Hazelyn didn't respond, simply staring at the wall of her chambers with the same blank expression on her face. Elena's brow furrowed monetarily and she gave a small sigh of indignation before her expression softened into one of gentle pity. She reached out and gently stroked the young woman's hair.

"You've been through far too much today for me to be lecturing you child. We will talk more tomorrow. Get some rest, sweetling." She glanced at Myna and murmured "Redress her bandages and then leave her to get some sleep."

Myna gave a small nod and then Elena shuffled warily out of the room. "Zel, are you going to talk to me about what happened?" she inquired carefully as she handled strands of white bandages and began to work on her mistress. Hazelyn shifted her gaze slightly to look at the maid and bit her lip. A steely silence settled into the room as Myna finished fixing the bandages and helped Hazelyn back into her gown.

"You need to talk to someone Zel. Keeping everything to yourself is only going to make you feel worse," Myna said plainly as she sat down on the side of the bed. The two girls of five and ten were caught in a staring match for a long moment before Hazelyn finally gave in.

She stared down at her lap and her hand fisted at the furs draped across her bed. "I told my father what I saw the other day. I followed Domeric down from the keep when he went looking for Father's bastard. I had to make sure he was alright. Father warned us that his bastard was dangerous and that we shouldn't seek him out. For once I actually agreed with him."

Myna quirked an eyebrow. "Why? You two never agree on anything. I would've thought that you'd have gone along with your brother just to spite you dear father." She couldn't help but smirk and gave a small chuckle despite the dark situation.

Hazelyn fixed her friend with a cold glare. "You're not stupid. You know the rumors about my father's bastard better than I do."

The mirth on the maid's face immediately vanished. She frowned again in concern. "I'm sorry, Zel. I was just trying to lighten the mood. It's been a bad couple of days for you."

Hazelyn turned her eyes away and bit her lip as her vision blurred with tears. Myna's frown deepened even more as she reached out to place a comforting hand on the young woman's shoulder. Hazelyn flinched away before she could.

Myna narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Petty rumors never stopped you from doing anything before. I used to think you would rather live in the village with us small folk because you tried to sneak down there so much." Her eyes widened again as she studied her shaken friend with sadness. "You've haven't been acting normally for months, Zel. Something's happened. What is it?"

Hazelyn's eyes hardened as she turned back towards her friend. She sniffed a bit as she used her night gown sleeve to wipe her tears and runny nose. "I haven't been acting normal? Myna, my brother slowly died in my arms yesterday after being murdered my father's fucking bastard. I think I'm permitted to be a bit upset."

The stubborn maid wasn't intimidated by her mistress' dark tone however. "But even before, you-"

"Enough!" Hazelyn snapped. Her eyes eyes shined with tears but flashed like cold stars. "I will not be interrogated my my maid, no matter how good a friend she is. I said I wanted to be left alone and I meant it. Please find my carving knife and place it on my bedside table next to my book. Then you are dismissed until tomorrow. Is that clear?"

Myna stared at her friend in shock. Hazelyn crossed her arms and continued to level her in a chilling stare. The maid pursed her lips into a thin line before slowly sliding off the bed. Wearing a neutral expression, she walked over to the bedside drawer and pulled out the sharp knife. It clinked against the table top as she forcefully set it down. She curtsied to her friend, eyes still filled with concern and hurt."Have a good night m'lady. I'll come back in the morn," she murmured. Hazelyn only responded with a steely gray gaze and a curt nod before she burrowed under her bed furs and turned away.

She heard soft foot steps and a quiet clank followed by complete silence, save for the crackling of the fire in the hearth. She turned slowly on to her back, wincing as her bandages rubbed against her wounds. The young woman then lied still and stared up at the dark stone ceiling, knowing sleep would not come.

The moon hung high in the sky as Hazelyn turned in her bed again. The air in the room was hot and stifling. She couldn't get comfortable and feared falling asleep again. Sighing, she gingerly sat up and pulled herself out of bed, careful not to rub her bandages again.

The young woman walked across the room and studied the small number of books tucked in their shelf in the wall. The fire in the grate had long died, submerging in the room in darkness, but it really didn't bother her. Even as a child Hazelyn had never feared the dark. Growing up at the Dreadfort gave one many other things to fear.

None of the books caught her interest and her head pounded. She needed to escape the stifling room and breath fresh air. Hazelyn quietly slipped her feet into her boots, strapped her knife and pouch to her thigh, and wrapped herself tightly in her dressing gown. She knelt down and pushed aside a rug in the corner of her room. She gripped floorboard and pulled it up, revealing a small compartment. She stuck her hand in and pulled out a small parcel.

Very carefully she approached the door and gently knocked on it. She bit her lip and clutched the parcel tightly to her chest as she waited to see which guard would be standing watch at her door. She smiled slightly when door slung open to reveal a ruddy, lined face with back hair and green eyes.

"M'lady, is there something wrong?" The guard asked, concerned.

Hazelyn let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't one of of her father's men. Bolton men came in two stocks: the gruff, sick bullies like Locke who were loyal to her father and the good men like Marvion who actually had basic human decency. Hazelyn's life became far easier when the second kind was assigned to guard her. They could usually be bribed with some extra food, clothes, or blankets for their families (since Roose made sure most lived in poverty) to let her slip away and have extra freedoms. Marvion, though, didn't even need to be bribed. He was more of a father to her than her real one ever was.

"No. I just want go down to the stables to see Branwen and get some fresh air."

"Are you sure that's a good idea after all that's happened these past days m'lady?" Marvion asked frowning.

Hazelyn sighed and glanced down at the ground. "Please, I can't sleep. I'm restless and I feel sick. I just need to stretch my legs and get a few minutes outside."

"Are nightmares keeping you up again?" The guard looked at her with sympathy and regret.

Hazelyn bit her lip as she gazed up at the guard desperately. "I haven't been able to sleep since then, Marvion. Every time I close my eyes, he attacks me and now with Domeric's death... I know he did it. I saw him with Domeric. It makes me so sick I can hardly..." She covered her mouth as a sob chocked out and a her eyes teared up.

The fatherly guard reached out and gently wrapped his big arm around her shoulders. He had guarded her since she was a little girl and had never seen her in such a state. She had always been quiet, but a tough and stubborn little thing. Constantly sneaking resources from the stores, she spent a great deal of her time making up food rations, clothes, and blankets for the common folk in the village and surrounding homesteads. He and his family had given out more alms to the other small folk than he could count. She had been caught a number of times before and had been chastised quiet thoroughly by Lord Bolton but she had never broken. She had even risked sneaking down to the village one night to help nurse his sick youngest child because they couldn't afford the maester. It was because of his distraction that night that she had been attacked.

After Hazelyn's tears had subsided, she looked up at him pleadingly and he nodded. "Very well m'lady. I'll take you down for a few minutes. Let's go quickly and quietly though. I happen to know the man coming in the morning is one of your father's favorites."

Hazelyn gave a weak smile and squeezed his arm gently. "Thank you," she whispered. She rushed out the door and down the corridor. Marvion followed behind quickly.

Hazelyn jogged out the castle door into the refreshingly crisp night. She paused in the empty courtyard to look up at the silver crescent moon and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes as the cool night air filled her lungs. She hadn't been outside in days. It felt nice to finally to be free of those wretched dark stone walls, if just for a few minutes. She heard heavy foot steps behind her as Marvion caught up.

"M'lady, we should move along to the stables if that's where you want to go. The air has a bitter chill in it tonight and you forgot your cloak. I don't want you to be out for too long."

She shook her head at Marvion's protectivness and let out a tiny chuckle. "I won't catch cold from a cool night. It really isn't that frigid anyway."

"Still m'lady, best not to be gone from your chambers for too long," the man at arms murmured urgently, trying to usher her along.

They hurried quietly across the courtyards towards the outer walls of the keep where the stables were located. Marvion stopped at the entrance and nodded to Hazelyn. "I'll stay out here to make sure no comes this way."

"Thank you, Marvion," Hazelyn whispered, "I won't be long, I promise."

The guard nodded at her as she scurried into the barn. She walked down the long rows of stalls, dimly lit by the occasional torch mounted on the wall. The stables were not clean and they smelled, but they were one of Hazelyn's favorite places to be. They remained her of her mother. Bethany had been an accomplished horse woman and she herself had taught Hazelyn and Domeric to ride starting at a very young age.

Hazelyn smiled wider than she had in weeks as she approached a stall with a black mare in it. She nickered as she quietly opened the stall door and stepped in. The horse looked up and flicked its ears in response. "Hey my pretty girl," Hazelyn whispered, "How are you tonight?" She gently rubbed the mare's snout and giggled when it nudged her hand expectantly. "I'm sorry Branwen. I don't have any treats for you right now."

"I do."

Hazelyn jumped in surprise at the sound of another human voice. She turned around in panic to see a well built youth of ten and seven with black hair and green eyes just like Marvion's.

"Gods Darren, don't scare me like that!" she snapped. "I thought I'd been caught for sure."

The young man opened the stall and stepped in beside Hazelyn, two apples in hand. He gently patted Branwen's flank and then offered an apple to Hazelyn. "Here."

"Thank you," Hazelyn said quietly. She studied Darren as she offered the the treat up to her horse and stroked its snout. "Darren, what are you doing in the stables this late?"

Darren smirked a bit. "My job. I think a stable hand is supposed to take care of horses, Zel." He glanced at the floor as his smirk turned into a frown. "Anyway, I wanted to give Branwen some extra attention since you haven't been down here in the past few days. I couldn't really sleep, and I figured I would be helping you a little bit at least if I looked after her." He looked at Hazelyn with concern and longing. "I heard about your brother and then saw what happened in the hall. I've been really worried about you, Zel." He moved his hand that had been stroking Branwen's coat to cover Hazelyn's. She moved it away before he could reach it.

"Zel-"

"Please Darren, don't."

"You haven't been acting right ever since the night you came down to the village to nurse my little brother. What's wrong?" He placed a gentle hand on Hazelyn's arm, but she flinched away.

"Zel-"

"My brother just died Darren. I can't deal with this right now. Can't you and everyone else just leave me alone?" Hazelyn growled angrily. She stepped away from him and hugged herself tightly.

"You're barely wearing anything and its freezing. Here, you can have my cloak," Darren said, seemingly ignoring what she had said.

"I'm not freezing! I'm just annoyed at you for trying to put your hands all over me and pestering me when I just wanted to visit my horse in peace! I don't need you to look after me!"

Darren stepped back looking at Hazelyn like she had just slapped him in the face. His expression hardened as he set the second apple down into an empty pale with resounding thud. "Very well, m'lady. I'm sorry for your loss and hope you have a good night."

Guilt overwhelmed Hazelyn. She bit her lip as she teared up. "Wait!"

Darren turned around to look at her from the entrance of the stall.

"I-I'm sorry Darren. I'm just scared. My brother just died but I don't-don't think it was just a simple illness. My father's bastard..."

Darren's brow furrowed. "What?"

"I think he killed my brother and..."

Darren walked over and placed a hand on Hazelyn's cheek. She stiffened but tried her best not to flinch away. "What, Hazelyn?"

She wanted to tell him everything. He deserved to know, but she just couldn't. So she only told a partial truth.

"If he killed my brother, whose to say the bastard won't come for me? I told my father, but I don't know how much good that will do," Hazelyn whispered bitterly.

Darren looked at her tenderly and twisted a strand of her hair around his fingers. He leaned in and brought his lips towards hers but she turned her face away so he only kissed her cheek. He looked at her sadly, but gently and let his hand fall to his side. He pursed his lips as he studied the small, devastated girl in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Hazelyn. I'm sure your father won't let that happen. Even a cruel bastard like him wouldn't let anything happen to his one remaining heir, and even if he doesn't care, you still have people who do. You'll make it Zel. You're the strongest girl I know. Come on, let's get you back to my father. Best not keep you out to long on a cold night like this."

He offered an open hand to Hazelyn with a small smile. Darren, he was one of her best friends, and had been from the time they were young children. He had become something just a bit more a couple months ago, but ever since...

She just couldn't handle having anyone close anymore. But her brother had just died, and she couldn't do this alone. She returned his faint smile and took his hand with a tiny squeeze. She offered Branwen the last apple and rubbed her snout before walking out with Darren. It had been a dark night full of terrors but hopefully with the rising sun would come a better day.

How terribly wrong she was.

That's it for now! I promise I will the next update will come sooner than this one did! Until next time, keep being awesome!;)