The Bastard of the North

The Ride

After everything was set and ready to go, Ramsay helped Kyrin up onto his horse with him like gentlemen. Though they'd spent almost a month together at King's Landing, she still was skeptical of the blue-eyed Bolton who'd come to take her hand in marriage. One question had been in the back of her head the day they arrived. Why is it that they needed Kyrin to marry him? The Boltons hold the North, they'd need a Northern girl like the little redhaired Stark who'd been sent here to marry Joffrey in the first place. Kyrin hated secrets, but she was, ironically enough, good at keeping them.

The Baratheon girl kept her hands in her lap as they rode for Winterfell. It wasn't like they were going at full speed, so she didn't think there was a need to cling to her betrothed as if she were afraid of falling. Which she wasn't, Kyrin never was afraid of getting hurt. It had always irritated Joffrey when his threats never faze his half sister. Of course Kyrin has her fears; if she didn't, she wouldn't be human.

"I bet it'll be much different for you in the North." Ramsay spoke up, tearing Kyrin from her thoughts.

"I've been to Winterfell before when my father made Lord Eddard Stark his Hand." The brunette replied, looking at the scenery around them and mentally saying goodbye to her warm home.

"Ah, yes. Lord Eddard Stark was an honorable man." Ramsay kept his horse steady, keeping up with his house. "I never had a chance to meet him, but I heard many stories of him. It's tragic that he died."

Ky nodded, despite the fact he could not see her. "I was there when my brother gave the orders." Her voice softened a bit as her mind replayed the terrible image over again. It was still a vivid memory. The true Baratheon had been furious that day at her bastard brother.

-
"I am the king I can do as I please." He'd declared, his crown tilted on his head.

"You're destroying this kingdom already, killing Ned Stark is the most idiotic thing you have done and ever will do." Her piercing blue eyes were wide with anger, they never left his same blue eyes.

"He tried to take my throne from me! He was useless to me!" Now they were both yelling at each other.

"And you think you were special to him?" Kyrin scoffed, squeezing the top of her nose between her eyes with her index and thumb in frustration. "Who are you?"

Joffrey was dumbfounded by her question. "Joffrey Baratheon." He hesitated.

"No," she retorted. "You are not just Joffrey Baratheon. You are Joffrey of Houses Baratheon and Lannister, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. You are the king," Kyrin paused, taking a step closer to her brother. "Act like the king."
-

"That must've been terribly difficult to deal with." Ramsay sympathized. "Tell me, my lady, does blood frighten you?"

Kyrin almost let out a disrespectful scoff, but she refrained. "One would be lead to believe, my lord."

Ramsay seemed intrigued by her answer as well as excited by being called a lord. She began to think he'd be easy to manipulate, she would just have to tell him what he wanted to hear. It seemed easy enough. However, her investigating was not over. She still had to figure out who this Ramsay Bolton really was.

They stayed silent the rest of the way to Winterfell. Occasionally, Lady Bolton would make small talk with Kyrin, but they never discussed anything of importance. Though, by the way Walda seemed to be on edge, Kyrin could tell she wanted to say something, but held her tongue. The Baratheon girl decided to leave it. Obviously it wasn't the time to say what Lady Walda needed to say.

As the rode up to Winterfell, Kyrin's heart dropped at the sight. Everything was destroyed. She saw men working, building the castle back up again. The men stared at the newcomer, smirks forming as they looked at each other. Kyrin gulped.

Dark, gloomy skies loomed over Winterfell in a haunting way. The black horse stopped, and Bolton men immediately began to help Ky down, smug smiles still plastered on their faces. The brunette didn't look at them, trying to avoid any contact towards them. Ramsay got down from the horse after his betrothed.

"Welcome to Winterfell, Lady Baratheon. We hope your stay is as cozy as the Capitol." One of the men who'd helped her down said, grabbing her attention. Her pale blue eyes stared at them, but she played along.

"Thank you," Kyrin turned to Ramsay who was talking to his father. "I hope so, too." She mumbled, walking over to Ramsay, but getting cut off short by a little brunette.

"Hello, Lady Baratheon." The girl bowed lightly before looking at her once more. "It's a pleasure to meet you. May I show you to your room?"

"Yes, see her to her room." Roose spoke up before Kyrin could object. The brown eyed girl gently placed her hand on the Baratheon's upper arm, leading her away.

"You're more beautiful than I thought." The brunette said, a hint of envy in her voice. Kyrin furrowed her eyebrows, but decided to ignore her statement.

"Who are you?" Kyrin questioned, looking around at the scenery around them.

"Myranda, my lady." Her voice was soft and timid, but Ky didn't buy it. She never confronted her about it, though.

The girl nodded as they approached a large wooden door.

"Here we are," Myranda gestured to the room. Lady Kyrin opened the door to see a simple little room. Different from her room in King's Landing, but she wasn't complaining. The bed was covered with soft-looking fur making her want to jump into the warmth. The South was much warmer than the North, and she found that she hated the cold.

Myranda closed the door as she left the girl to her room. Kyrin got ready for bed and slid under the warm furs. The warmth immediately cooed her to sleep.