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This story deserves to be available for readers to read. This Story was removed, it deserved to be available, Original Author is Blackwolf2019 as i don't own this story or its work.

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Chapter 8: The Whispering of an Old Woman

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Ben Bones

Ben was sick of her. The Old Woman that had been brought to the Dreadfort had been driving him mad. He was usually a Kennel Master but with the majority of the forces at Winterfell, including the bastard's dogs, he'd become a guard. The old hag had spoken to him every time he had to go into the cells to guard the prisoners. Of all the other prisoners, who were silent, who knew better, she kept rattling on. Always Mocking. Always taunting. Every time he entered, every time a guard told her to stop telling stories to the prisoners.

"The North Remembers little man."

"Winter is Coming for you dog boy."

"Have I ever told you the tale of the Rat Cook?"

"The tales of the Dreadfort always speak of it as such a terrifying place. Maybe it will be for you when the North decides to march on you."

"I wonder what story they'll tell about a dog master felled by wolves?"

"I dreamt of a wolf as big as a horse, with fur as black as night, and yellow eyes as piercing as the sun. I saw it tear your throat out. I look forward to seeing my little Prince again."

The woman was either mad or the most resistant woman in the Dreadfort, loyal to a bunch of dead Starks. He'd struck her once, expecting a hit on an old woman would have stopped her, she just spat in his face and made another comment with that almost toothless smile. Ben would have killed her if the bastard and Lord Bolton hadn't ordered the garrison to keep them alive. They were to be playthings for Roose or Ramsay. That gave him some comfort. Knowing what would happen to her. Women didn't survive the Dreadfort. Not even this old bitch. Regardless of that, the bitch had gotten under his skin, listening to her remarks. It was vexing having to listen until the Boltons returned to play with them.Maybe she'll shut up if I have my way with that Cassel girl.

Ben knew that the Castellan and Maesters hadn't received any ravens since news of Stannis' defeat. They knew very little of what was going on in the North. But then again, that was a norm for the Dreadfort. Not many truly wanted to contact them. He knew his Lords enjoyed that isolation. He quite enjoyed it truthfully. Even a kennel Master of the Dreadfort had power over the smallfolk.

The Dreadfort in the night was probably when it was at his most terrifying. Flayed banners dimly lit by torches. Small statues of flayed men on the tower walls. The penetrating blackness of the walls. It was a true castle to fear. It always emphasised screams. And that was what he heard on this night. It wasn't uncommon to hear screams in the Dreadfort. But those screams came from the dungeons, or Lord Bolton's private chambers. This time they were coming from the walls on the South Side of the fortress. Ben had hoped it was just some of the guards taking liberties with the servants in the night, as he walked towards the screaming. Ben knew it wasn't the moment he saw a large number of torches on the walls, and coming through the walls. Ben was looking at an army. And they'd managed to sneak into the Dreadfort and open the gates. It was a horde of soldiers screaming as they slaughtered the Bolton guards. He could see the banners of the Flints of Widow's Watch, the Hornwoods and House Locke up on the walls. There were banners he didn't recognise as well. Held by men and women that didn't dress like the regular soldiers. He could see a lot of pelts and furs covering their leather armours. And at the front was the banner of House Stark.

Fuck.Ben went white with dread. The Starks were dead, yet the banner was flying. He didn't believe it. Ben knew better than to fight this battle. They'd climbed the walls and gotten through the gates. It was a lost battle. Ben did the only sensible thing and ran, straight to the dungeons.I need a hostage.It was the only good move. To secure that'd he'd live. Ben knew well enough that Bolton men had a noose around their neck if Northmen still flew the banner of Stark.

Ben ran as fast as he could as he heard the growing screams of Bolton soldiers being cut down. They were swarming the castle. The noise didn't lessen as he made his way into the dungeons. The dungeons had become loud too, with a laugh.

"He's coming!"

"He's Coming!"

"A wild wolf returns!"

"Damn Hag Bitch!" Ben cursed as he ran down the stairs, sword unsheathed.I'll kill her then take another of the women as a hostage.The thought made him smile. He'd listened to her speak for too long, just like the other guards. As he walked past each cell, he could hear her laugh even more.

When he finally reached her cell, he could see the old hag in hysterics. She looked happy. Nobody was supposed to look that happy in the Dreadfort.

Ben had finally had enough, "I'll finally kill you hag! I've had enough!"

The old woman stopped laughing at him and just smiled, "Oh the Kennel Master comes to kill me. He knows he's no match for the wolves so comes to kill an old woman!"

She started to laugh again. Ben went to open the cell so he could kill her. A howl stopped him dead in his tracks. It wasn't the howl of a dog, Ben knew that sound too well. It wasn't the sound of a regular wolf either. It was too powerful. Ben slowly turned his head to face the howl. He'd heard stories of Robb Stark's Direwolf.The tales don't do them justice.The thing was massive, almost as big as a horse. Its fur was almost as black as the walls. Ben could see blood in its mouth, dripping on its teeth. The beast was snarling at him with solid yellow eyes looking straight at him.Those eyes are intelligent.He had no chance against this. He was stuck in his place. The Old woman was still laughing.How is she not afraid of this?

"The Kennel Master of the Dreadfort and the Direwolf. I look forward to telling the tale!" the Old woman cackled.

Ben wasn't truly listening as the Direwolf slowly moved down the halls.If I'm lucky I can stab it.

Luck wasn't on Ben's side. He barely saw it cover the distance as if it had taken a step, putting all of its weight on him, sending him to the floor with his sword fallen to the ground. He screamed as the Direwolf tore into him. He screamed until the wolf went for his throat. His eyes slowly darkened, but out of the corner he could see the old woman watching.

"My Little Prince has returned."

Bit of a short chapter which is why it is up so quick. Rickon was at the back of the army because he's 8 but he's a warg so he was partially in shaggy at the time. Thought Old Nan would be tougher than the dreadfort. In the books, theon thinks she's probably dead. I reckon she'd live out of spite and knowledge that the Starks weren't dead. Implied that she has the greensight in this story. This has also happened shortly before Jon takes Torrhen's square so Rickon and the Skagosi are too far away tae fight at winterfell, felt that had tae be solely jon's battle.