Game of Thrones one shots / preferences

Roose Bolton X Reader - (Home Again)

"It will mean you can regain Winterfell. Don't you want to go home?" The smooth voice whispered in your ear. You didn't trust Littlefinger, but you truly did yearn to be back in the North.
"Yes, but... he is a monster." You reply, suppressing a shudder at the thought of the man.
You knew what kind of man Roose Bolton was, you'd heard the stories and listened to the songs. Yet you knew you had no choice.

"Either you marry him, or Sansa does." Lord Baelish states firmly.
Nodding, you say. "Fine." Resigning yourself to your fate.

Your horses trotted up to the gates of your old home and you felt yourself gag at the sight of skinless corpses hanging from the walls of the battlements. Your heart was racing, partly through fear, partly from anger at the desecration of your ancestral home. You were glad that Sansa wasn't here to see this.

"Lady Stark, a pleasure." The tall man said, helping you from your horse. He must be your new betrothed.

"Lord Bolton." You couldn't find any other words to say to the man who killed your brother, killed your mother, ruined your family.

"I have had your old chambers prepared. Once you've settled in, I hope you will join me for dinner." Slightly taken aback by his warm smile, you simply nod in response. Your old chambers. It'll be nice to be in them again.

After washing and bathing you dress for dinner, the maid braiding your crimson hair. You wore a deep blue, almost black, gown which had a high neck and long wide sleeves. Silver earrings complimented the small silver stars around the edges of the dress.
Walking down the familiar steps to the dining hall, you reminisce. Sure, the structure was the same. But the feeling was different. As though all the life was sucked from the halls, all the joy and happiness and laughter were gone, replaced with coldness and dark.

Entering the room, you were surprised to see your soon to be husband sitting at the table alone. You greet him and sit down opposite him. "My Lord."

"Please, y/n. Call me Roose. We are to be wed, after all." He says, pouring you a cup of wine. You pick it up and take a deep drink, hoping to calm your anger and nerves.

"I trust your chambers are satisfactory?" He asks, an almost apologetic look in his eyes.

"Yes. Thank you. They always were." You seethe. You avoided his gaze; you never were the best at controlling your anger.

The two of you ate in silence, Roose attempting to make small talk but you shutting him down with short responses. After the meal you sat by the fire, again in silence, when you finally snap. Staring at his, admittedly handsome, face you begin to spit.
"I cannot do this. I cannot marry a man who destroyed my family."

He sighed, staring into your pale eyes. "I know. I know it must be hard." He paused for a moment, breaking the eye contact. "All I ask is that you take my name and bear me true born heirs. You can have other lovers, dine alone, ignore my very presence if it pleases you. Whatever else you may wish to do, I shan't stop you. Just have my heirs and be my wife, even if only in name."

You stare at the man. He clearly wanted to cement his claim as Warden of The North, to gain favour with the remaining loyalists of your house. But it was the best offer you had.

"I will wed you. But only because the Starks belong at Winterfell." You stand and walk to the door before turning and saying, "And please remove those flayed bodies from the walls, we're not savages. Well, I'm not at least." before slamming the door and going to bed.