Lord Rodner Bolton sat front and center at the Dreadfort's main hall as he awaited the arrival of his younger sister. He had called for an urgent family meeting after receiving a letter of confirmation from House Stark to go through with his now deceased father, Rogar's, final strategy. The Red King Rogar has been a cruel man in his lifetime, known for committing countless atrocities. However, when his beloved Wife Loraena passed alongside a stillborn child, his madness was replaced by regret. The guilt of her loss struck a change in him that caused the downfall of House Bolton. Now young Rodner was left to pick up the pieces.
"Have Grennan and Freya not arrived yet?" Rodner's wife, Mariya questioned as she waltzed into the room with a small smile.
"Not yet." Rodner said as he tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair. "What could possibly be taking them so long?"
"Do not fret, my love." Mariya playfully cooed. "I'm sure the two are in tow as we speak."
Just then, the doors to the main hall opened and Freya, Lord Rodner's seventeen-year-old sister, stepped into the room.
"My apologies, brother." Freya said as she approached him. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting."
Lord Rodner gave her a nod of acknowledgment while his wife flashed a smile. "What were you up to, dear sister?" He asked with a tilt of his head.
Freya took a seat and raised an eyebrow, did it matter what she was up to? She was here, wasn't she? And before Grennan too. "I just returned from a ride, and I am rather tired so if Grennan could hurry up and get here, that would be lovely."
"As if you haven't kept me waiting before, sister." Grennan remarked as he strode towards them. The brown haired young man looked quite disheveled. Almost as if he had been in a rush to get dressed and out of the door.
Mariya noticed this right away, and while she knew exactly what he had been up to, she said not a word.
"Yes, well no one cares if you're kept waiting, bastard." Freya said snidely, tossing her curly black hair over her shoulder.
Grennan's playful expression darkened as he approached his seat. His mouth opened to make a snide remark but Lord Rodner interrupted. "Enough of that. Both of you." He commanded.
Freya shot Grennan a smirk, then turned her attention to Rodner, "Why exactly have you summoned us here?" She questioned.
"I'm glad you ask, sister." Lord Rodner replied, palms folding over the table. "It seems that our father's final ploy to make amends with the Starks has gone through."
"I have to marry Bronden Stark?" Freya questioned, a hint of anger in her voice. She had never thought the marriage would go through, and had been counting on the Starks saying no.
Lord Rodner nodded. "Yes. The Starks have agreed and it was our father's final wish." He replied.
"So…" Grennan interjected. "What you mean to say is that the glorious Bronden Stark has yet to find a match after all of these years?" The bastard chuckled out.
Freya crossed her arms, she was not pleased about the match, the Starks were their enemies, she had been upset enough when their father had bent the knee and now she was being forced to marry into their family? It was a ridiculous notion...
"Enough, we are not here to make jokes." Lord Rodner reminded his brother, although a proud smile threatened to form on his lips the moment his wife took his hand. Once upon a time, Mariya Ryswell was the jewel of the north. Everyone wanted the sharp beauty to marry into their ranks. House Stark and House Bolton were no exception. However, when the time came Mariya chose Rodner as her suitor to the dismay of all. Even to this day.
"And when am I to marry him?" Freya questioned, glancing at Rodner with a raised brow. She hoped it wasn't anytime soon, but knew she would have no say in the matter.
"Within a fortnight." Lord Rodner informed her. "We will set out tomorrow to meet with them, and from then on you shall be their ward until the day of your marriage."
Freya scowled, but nodded, it would do no good to protest this, she knew she would have to go through with the arrangement.
"I suggest you get some rest. We ride at dawn tomorrow." Lord Rodner added. "Grennan, you will tend to the Dreadfort while Mariya and I accompany Freya to Winterfell."
"Nothing would please me more." Grennan said with a grin.
Freya stood and left the room without so much as another word. I can't believe he went through with it, she thought, trying to figure a way out of her current predicament.
Mariya followed behind her sister-in-law. While the two weren't exactly the best of friends, she hoped to provide some solace as she knew exactly what it was like to be in her position. "Freya, wait." She called.
Freya stopped and turned on her heel, "What is it?" She questioned, rather harshly.
"I know that this all may seem quite overwhelming," Mariya began. "But I hope you know that Rodner would never throw you in with wolves if he believed you to be at risk."
An amused smile played on Freya's lips, "I know I'm not at risk, I'm sure Bronden is as honorable as the rest of the Starks, the simple fact is that I do not wish to marry him."
Mariya folded her arms in front of herself, taking note of each and every change in Freya's tone. "Why not?" The sleek haired woman questioned. "Surely knowing that you'll become the eventual Queen of the North must be of some appeal to you."
"Yes, being Queen does sound rather nice, but that throne should be my brother's, not the Starks." Freya retorted.
Mariya smiled in amusement. "Perhaps one day it shall be." She chimed. "For the moment, just make sure you play your part and play your part well."
Freya scowled, she hated being told what to do, "I know." She said sharply. "Was that all you wanted?"
Mariya stared at Freya for a moment in calculation before shaking her head. "You are free to go." With that the woman turned on her heel and made her way back to her husband.
"What did you and Freya discuss?" Lord Rodner asked as his wife returned to the room.
"Nothing of importance, my love." Mariya replied as she took his hand.
"And how is she taking the news?" Grennan asked, reaching for his cup of wine.
"As well as any other young woman in her situation would." Mariya nonchalantly stated. "It might help if we go easy on her for the night."
"Give her space and time to rest, she'll be fine, it's what she was raised for." Rodner said, without a hint of concern in his voice.
Mariya and Grennan both nodded as the room fell silent.
Freya awoke the next morning to her curtains being drawn and the morning light shining on her face. She yawned as she stretched and sat up in bed. Her handmaiden curtsied to her and Freya scowled. She was dreading this morning and hadn't slept well the previous night.
"Good morning, my lady." her handmaiden said.
"There is nothing good about this morning." Freya said bitterly.
"Right. Of course, my lady" The handmaiden replied with a dip of her head. "My apologies, my lady. Should I have a bath drawn for you?"
"Obviously." Freya snapped. "Don't you know how to do your job? Must I remind you every morning?""
The handmaiden shook her head. "N-no, my lady. I will get to it, my lady." She said with fear, shaking her voice.
Freya sighed as she stepped out of bed and approached her window. She glanced outside as she waited for her bath to be prepared. She wasn't ready to leave her home just yet, but knew she had to. It was hardly fair, but there was no point in dwelling on it.
Moments later her usual handmaiden returned with her bath with the assistance of another. "Your bath, my lady."
"About time." Freya said as her handmaidens helped her out of her nightgown. She stepped into the bath and got settled. She watched closely as her handmaidens scrubbed her body, ready to pounce on them for any little mistake. The handmaidens' hands shook as they scrubbed Freya's body, knowing well of the atrocities she was capable of when dissatisfied. Once they were finished they dried Freya off and dressed her in a long black dress with a leather corset like lining around her waist. They then tossed a dark brown fur cape over her shoulders that we held together by a pin with the Bolton crest on it. Freya glanced at herself in the mirror, looking for anything out of place and sighed when she found everything acceptable. There was a knock at the door and one of her handmaidens opened it to reveal her elder brother, Lord Rodner.
"Brother." Freya greeted coldly.
"Are you ready? The carriage is prepared for our departure." Lord Rodner asked.
"Yes." Freya said tersely, she would have preferred to ride on horseback, but knew her brother wouldn't want to risk her getting dirty.
Lord Rodner nodded in approval. "Very good. Let us be on our way then, sister. Mariya awaits us."
Freya nodded and followed her brother out of the room with a scowl on her face.
Before long the two made it to the outside of the Dreadfort, where Mariya greeted them with a smile.
"You look lovely, Freya." Mariya complimented before taking her husband's arm.
"Thank you." Freya said.
"I have no doubt that you will be the talk of all of Winterfell." Mariya added before her husband helped her into the carriage.
Freya took her brother's hand as she stepped into the carriage. She took her seat across from Mariya and peeked out the window, taking one last glance at the Dreadfort before she would most likely never see it again.
A.N. Welcome one and all! This is my first writing comeback in quite sometime so please bear with me as I get back into the swing of things. Carry Your Throne is a GoT prequel project cowritten with Ava Nava. If you enjoyed this first chapter, please feel free to follow, fave, and/or review as it serves as great motivation. :)