To Germany11, thank you for your interesting analysis.
And to jazu10501 and to MadDog Bolton for your reviews, I hope you'll like this chapter too.
Annalys woke up startled, she jumped in her uncomfortable bed, pulling the itchy furs to her barely clothed body.
She kept hearing a great commotion and by the sounds of it, it seemed that a thousand men were right behind her doorstep.
The lady sat at the end of her bed, confused, she looked at her right, where her only window was situated, the sun had just risen; she wobbled to her wooden door, her bare feet in contact with the cold stones making her body shiver.
With hesitation she opened the way too heavy doorstep, stuck her head outside and, much to her surprise, no one was there.
Even more confused, she closed the door and then rushed to her window that looked down on the courtyard. That's when she saw them.
Men were prepping horses, others were helping each other wearing their mail armors, she furrowed her brows in confusion, sweat starting to form all over her body.
Almost all of the soldiers had joined Robb in his quest for the South so she figured that if all the remaining men were getting ready, then it had to be for something of a great matter.
Many thoughts ran through her head as, from her high window she caught a glimpse of Ramsay, all dressed up in armor, ordering people around, she scanned him, his posture and, squinting her eyes, she also noticed his expression.
He was calm, didn't look fazed nor scared, even if she doubted he could ever be, even the other men looked relaxed. She took a deep breath, realizing they weren't under attack.
Once fear was gone, the feeling got replaced by irritation, she crossed her arms on her chest in anger, like a child, annoyed that she hadn't been informed of the situation.
She stared at everyone, slightly hanging out of the window with her head to see better, her bothered expression gracing her usually kind face.
She locked eyes with a soldier for a second, and as she saw him run to the bastard to talk, she got ready to flaunt her annoyed expression.
He never looked up, her plan to intimidate him failing miserably as he called one of his men, whispered something in his ear and then walked off.
Annalys turned around, her back facing the opened window, her body rested on the windowsill, she had never felt more confused and outraged in her entire life.
A knock on the door woke her from their thoughts.
"Come in" she shouted, not moving from her place, a cocky smile gracing her lips, she expected to see Ramsay and she was ready to throw a scene, she prepared to scream at him and demand for apologies.
"My lady" said Reila, Annalys' smile fading into a frown "Lord Bolton said that you should go back to sleep".
"He's not a Bolton" she spat, raising herself from the windowsill "And I'm not going back to sleep 'till I know what's going on".
Reila grimaced, playing with her hair, Annalys walked up to her, her hatred towards the man growing more and more.
"I wish I knew too, my lady" she said, sincerely "All this aggressive men going around really scared me".
"Get me my dress" she ordered, not listening to her handmaiden "I need to talk to him".
"You can't, my lady" she pleaded, Annalys raised an eyebrow, puzzled "He ordered that you were to stay here for the morning".
"It's not going to happen" said the lady, walking to her closet and taking out a random dress herself.
"Please" whispered Reila "He will punish me if you don't do what I say, please, my lady".
Her handmaiden's voice cracked, turning into a terrified murmur that shook Annalys, not being able to find something to reply she just nodded and sat back on her bed, her hands still grasping the dress.
"At least" she stated after a while, defeated "If I can't really get out" a sigh "You need to go and find out what's going on".
Reila nodded, ready to rush out of the door, her braided red hair swinging behind her back.
"Find out where they are going, why and if any of my men are joining them" she shouted at her, watching her figure run out.
Annalys threw the dress on her bed, and walked back to the window.
Feeling trapped, she stared at the great number of men jumping on their horses, Ramsay in the lead of them all. Seeing his silhouette trotting on his horse made her blood boil.
She felt helpless and betrayed, angry at the Dreadfort's bastard, she had had finally convinced him to leave the damned place for the Woodsteep only a day before, she started screaming without even realizing it, her hands grabbing the bedcovers with force, swinging off the bed.
Annalys realized that Ramsay had only bluffed, after weeks of begging him she thought he would cave in, but all she got was games and lies.
The young lady wandered through the fort, a frustrated look persistent on her face.
The Dreadfort was half empty, she would find herself in corridors completely clear of people, she would knock on those doors, always receiving no answer.
Ultimately she had found her men's corridor, it also looked, to her dismay, empty. She shook her head in disbelief, anger seeping through her.
Her men, her own men, had left without asking her permission, she was furious, she felt disrespected.
Blinded by her rage she threw herself on the first door of the corridor, banging her right fist on it, hoping that someone would answer.
The last door in the corridor opened, the farthest one from her and her fury, then another door, and then also another. A few of her men were staring at her from their doorframes, confused.
She looked at them and mentally counted them, less than ten men stood in the corridor, other ten missing.
She grabbed her skirt in her fingers, her right hand hurting from her frenzy, and marched to them.
"Where are all of the others?" she demanded, her voice sounding way too harsh than she intended to.
Her men looked at each other's faces, a guilty expression seeping through them.
"My lady" said Ser Olivar, walking up to her, his wrinkled face smiling calmly, something that would always remind her of her late father "Let's have a talk" he guided her to his room, Annalys followed him, shooting dirty looks at her other men that retreated to their rooms.
"What's going on, Ser Olivar?" she exploded, once in the room, it was way smaller than hers, with the tiniest of windows and a small uncomfortable-looking bed. The man took a small breath, before talking.
"My lady, Ramsay Snow is handling some troubles in the north, there's no need to get so worked up about it" she folded her arms across her chest and stared at him in an intimidating manner, her head raised high, eyes shooting daggers at him, he had always treated her with condescendence, but she had always ignored it before this day.
"You may want to rephrase this sentence, Ser Olivar Flint".
"I'm sorry, my lady, but it's the truth, he's handling some matters for King Robb and some of our men decided to join him" she scoffed at the mention of Robb, annoyed at the fact that he hadn't contacted her, instead. She shook her head at him.
"Ser Olivar, may I remind you that you don't get to choose where to go or what to do, you are all sworn to my house, I get the last word in every situation" she spoke in a composed and soothing voice, her fake smile and angry eyes actually giving away her true feelings.
"But he's you husband-to-be" he argued, his voice getting more faint as Annalys got more pissed off.
"I am your lady" she screamed, slamming her foot on the floor, the noise echoing in the room "I will always have the last word".
"I'm regretful and I'm sure all of the others are, it will never happen again" he said, defeated, not daring to look her in the eyes, he was a grown men getting scolded by a girl. He felt ashamed.
She felt bad, treating her most trusted knight in such a poor way and she knew that she was using him as a stress relief since she couldn't scream at the real source of her anger.
"It sure won't, Ser Royland" she exclaimed, cocky "Now tell me what's going on".
"My condolences, my lady" Annalys half-curtsied in front of a servant that had approached her in the courtyard.
"Thank you" she said, not meaning it, a fake smile plastered on her face "I appreciate it".
Her rage had subsided, she had spent hours screaming in the woods, howling like a wounded beast. Her light grey and green dress was now covered in mud, and her eyes were red and puffy, she felt all of the peasant's eyes on her.
"My lady" one of the few Bolton's soldiers left had walked up to her, joining the woman "I'm so sorry for your loss".
She smiled kindly at him, trying to mask her resentment for everyone, her blue eyes giving her away, piercing a hole in his soul. The two retreated leaving her.
She felt numb.
"Thank you" she shouted at the man walking away "I appreciate it".
Annalys rushed inside the fort, all she wanted to be was alone. Her heart was aching, her eyes were puffy, tears constantly welling up in her eyes, she had just found out about the death of the two Stark children and she was suffering like they were her own.
She was grieving for them but she was also grieving for Theon, one of her closest friends whom, she was sure, would have been executed for his crimes.
Maybe Ramsay will execute him, she thought to herself while climbing the stairs, or maybe he will be sent to Robb. She was plagued by a strong, persistent pain in her heart. Her life was crumbling before her eyes.
The lady opened the heavy door to her room, finding her two maidens looking at her with concern. She took a small step inside, her calm façade she had worn in the courtyard shattering instantly.
Annalys stared at her hands, a single, salty tear rolled down her left cheek, she looked up, helpless, her eyes getting even glossier by the second.
Their two faces kept popping up in her brain, their happy, carefree faces.
She pictured her younger self, holding Rickon in her arms when he was only a month old.
She remembered her and Bran's snow castles and their awful renditions of Winterfell.
She recollected the first time she taught Rickon to ride her grey horse, his laugh when her mare started to run in circles.
If she closed her eyes she could still see them laughing, them hugging her.
Annalys regretted their last conversation, her heart aching, little needles stabbing it, she had just told them a simple hello, too busy handling grownup stuff to give them the attention they wanted.
Her vision went blurry by the amount of tears welling up in her eyes.
She shakily sat down on the cold stone floor, her two handmaidens rushing to her.
She stood in the center of the courtyard, her bright grey dress was all clean and clung to her curves perfectly, her dark brown hair had been styled in an intricate manner, the usual lock that would always fall on her eyes had been tucked into a braid on the crown of her head.
She held her hands together, waiting in utter silence, her few men stood behind her, alongside other Bolton men.
From her position she could spot her two handmaidens, standing near some peasant girls, Reila was chatting to the kennel master's daughter.
She took a deep breath, forcing a small smile on her face.
"They're here" shouted a soldier, all chatter died down, Annalys stood straighter.
The heavy wooden doors opened slowly, the brunette instantly locking eyes with Ramsay.
The party of soldiers entered the courtyard right behind the bastard, men were holding Bolton's banners proudly, in the back she could also spot her house's banner, she rolled her eyes.
"Welcome back my lord" she exclaimed, curtsying in front of Ramsay, he smirked, pleased, his eyes travelling up and down her body, clearly appreciating her dress choice.
"I'm glad to be back, my lady" he bowed to her, but Annalys' attention was elsewhere.
On one of the last horses that had entered the courtyard she could see the unconscious body of Theon Greyjoy, his face dirty and covered in dried up blood, his body was contorted on the horse, the only thing keeping him from falling was the soldier behind him and the ropes that covered his entire body.
He looked lifeless with his eyes shut and his pale body, she gulped, her hands starting to shake.
Anger and sadness started whirling around in her, the two emotions fighting, one trying to win against the other. She wanted revenge, to see him executed for the death of her two boys, but, on the other hand, she still felt love for one of her closest friends.
Annalys grabbed her gown with both hands in an embarrassing attempt at hiding her shaking, her knuckles turned white from her strong grip, the fabric creasing. She tried to focus her attention elsewhere, but she couldn't bring herself to detach her eyes from the body.
Ramsay smiled, amused at her reaction, he knew the situation would surely entertain him, he skillfully hid his delighted expression, turning it into a concerned one.
"My dear" he lightly grabbed her hand, fully aware that all of the eyes were on them "Don't worry about him, I'll take care of him".
Annalys turned her weary eyes to him, from his words she evinced that Theon wasn't dead.
"I will never let him hurt you" he exclaimed, his hands caressing her cheek, his nails skimming her skin almost roughly, making her flinch.
I'm back!
This chapter was a bitch to write, I really don't like it.
But don't worry because this was only a filler chapter and I think you know what Theon's arrival in the story means…. Or maybe not?
As last time, let's place our bets: what do you think will happen between our Annalys and Theon?
Tell me if you found some mistakes.
Love you,
Nicole.