Irenya felt her very blood boil with rage and shock, watching Jon through the corner of her eye. She knew him, he wouldn't truly show how he felt until the time came where it was too much to contain, however she knew the signs. He straightened within his seat as his jaw clenched behind closed lips, he released a quiet sigh as Lord Langate rambled on.
"I apologize, my lord but... Lady Irenya is not going to marry." His tone, forced to appear polite begun to waver at the confirmed suspicions.
"...May I ask as to why?" Irenya frowned as Jon rose slowly from his seat in cautious silence as the Lord slowly approached the large oaken door to the great hall and slid the bolt in place, sealing the door from the inside. Irenya became aware of Jon's sword Longclaw upon the table behind jon's seat, against the stone wall, glancing at it before turning her attention back towards Jon as he walked about the table, stopping in front of it. His umber eyes watched Lord Langate fiercely. "...She's yours, isn't she?" Langate lifted his eyes his eyes from the floor to Jon before turning a fervid stare to Irenya. "I cannot say you aren't lucky. She has a burning spirit though an innocent face. Not to mention an ample bust which I am sure you have noticed upon taking." A bitterly grin spread upon his face at his venomous words.
"Enough." The anger Jon had hidden was now clear to see on his face.
"Though I suppose you're used to taking, just as your family is. This was the home of someone dear to me and you took it, didn't you? Bastard. Last I had heard, Winterfell was the home of the Boltons. Roose Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the north! Succeeded by Ramsey Bolton, my friend. My only friend since we were boys. He taught me how to treat traitors and how to make sure people don't step out of line. He became the last of his house and now due to your fucking battle as am I. You killed him, you destroyed all he had and you killed him. So, I decided, maybe Ramsey would be happy if I did the same. When I saw your pretty bed warmer, I was hoping she would've been a whore like your sister was for Ramsey but she wasn't so I decided something else was in order." Taking out his sword slowly as he spoke. Irenya etched gently towards Longclaw, never taking her eyes away from Langate as she took the scabbard in hand.
"Roose and Ramsey...murdered his family, took his home and Ramsey murdered his brother. He was a vicious, savage bastard. He needed to die." Irenya spoke slow and lowly, watching stone faced as anger burned upon Langate's face.
"Innocent face, venomous toungue. It won't be when I cut it out and fucking feed it to you." His steps became deliberate towards Jon, Irenya's eyes widened as she tossed Longclaw towards him who swiftly spun from the path of the sword that swung towards him, releasing the sword from the sheath and deflecting the strikes Langate took. Irenya looked past the duel towards her target, her breathing quickened as she swiftly charged forward. Her steps beat the stones of the floor, almost reaching the bolted door but was hauled back. Her eyes scowled towards Langate, his hand grasped harshly about her arm. Her gaze flickered past him to Jon rising from the floor as her hand clenched into a fist and swung it towards his face, smashing upon his cheek, the lord stumbled backward and growled from the pain in his quickly swelling cheek bring his sword in a swift slash towards her. Irenya arched backward, spinning and continuing her charge towards the as the lord clashed blade with Jon once again. Grasping the bolt and releasing it, the clashing of swords ringing out as she tore open the door allowing all within the courtyard to hear. Fear riddled her once she turned back, the lord had Jon against the table, their swords scraping as Jon strained to stop the blade slicing his throat. Irenya scanned about in panic, her survey fell onto a heavy iron candlestick upon a small table. Her fingers gently wrapped onto it, a determined scowl pressed her brow as her silent steps were unheard. Gripping the candlestick until her knuckles turned white, she lifted her hand. A harsh thus called out, echoing about the stones. Blood trickled from the Lord's head as he turned, slightly dazed towards her, removing the blade that inched closely to Jon's throat. Fear upon Irenya's face was short lived as he stumbled towards her, her lips parting and eyes widening before grimacing in rage as she struck Lord Langate again and again until his body lay still upon floor, blood flowing from his corpse. The rage Irenya felt faded as shock of what she had done flowed in, staring wide eyed at the blood upon her hands, it was then she saw Tormund's large frame within the door. Her eyes connected with Jon who stared, lips parted in silence. Irenya rose, her eyes refusing to make contact with all in the large hall until Jon silently placed his fingertips in her palm. A soft release of breath escaped her parted lips at the gesture he knew she knew well.
"We have to burn the body." Jon softly murmured.
The snow fell heavy as the flames engulfed the pyre and no word was said. Irenya stared coldly however unknown to all present but Jon her shaken mind. Though she knew killing well, always gave a suitable and perhaps honourable death to those who didn't deserve it, scum who deserve to suffer, she had never killed that way and as she watched the flames she remembered the flashes of killing and savagery of her homeland appeared before her eyes with strike to the lord's bursting head. Her breathing quickened, noticed by Jon who softly placed his hand in hers. Irenya silently glanced towards him before turning back towards the flames of precaution, the reminder of all they can do is wait for 'he who brings the winter' to arrive.
