Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book four

The lone she wolf - Part 2 - Roose x Reader

(Y/n) looked out of the window. Her sad eyes scanning what was left of the only home that she had ever known. The great castle had once been filled with the happy sounds of her family. With life and love. With her mother and father. With Robb. Yet now, her mother, father and older brother were dead. The castle more like a grave. The sounds of disembodied voices whispering from the dark. The lone she wolf knowing that she would give anything to be able to turn around and see her whole family again. To see her mother and father holding one another's hands, as they watched over the goings on. To be able to chuckle to herself, as she saw Robb, Jon and even Theon wrestle and argue like they would. To be able to sit with Arya, Bran and Rickon. Yet she knew that that was an impossible dream. That all she had at this moment was Sansa. And (Y/n) would do everything she could to protect her from the Bolton bastard. To not let her sister, suffer any more than she already had.

"(Y/n)!?" A soft voice said. The lone she wolf fearing for one moment, that it was the sound of one of the ghosts that seemed to haunt the shadows. A small sad smile coming to her lips as her name was called once again. The oldest of Ned's still living children, realising that Sansa had made her way into the room.

"Is everything alright?" Sansa asked, as she came up behind (Y/n). The younger she wolf laying her head on her sister's shoulder.

"Everything is fine, Sansa. There is no need to worry. I know what I have to do. And I am sure that given our current predicament, father and Robb would approve." (Y/n) replied calmly. Moving so that she could wrap her arm around her sibling's shoulder.

"(Y/n) please don't. You have been through enough with your time in the dungeons. With all that happened to you..........."

"Yes, Sansa. You are right. And given that, being in the bed of a Bolton will seem like nothing. I have learnt to separate myself from the pain. To send my mind to more wonderful places. And that is what I will do. We will get you away from here. Somehow get you to Jon. Then we will take back our home. Take back Winterfell and bring down the House of Bolton. We will have our revenge for all that has been done to us. For all that has been taken for us. The wolves will rise again. Winter will always return." (Y/n) interrupted. Her finger combing through Sansa's hair as the two young women looked out over the world beyond their confines.

"How fortunate to find you both together." A calm deep voice interjected. Sansa spinning around, as the male tone suddenly split the otherwise silent air. (Y/n) not needing to turn her gaze from the tumbled down castle, to know who had just entered the room.

"We have some good news for you." Roose continued. His eyes set firmly on the back of the woman that still refused to turn.

"And pray tell, Lord Bolton. What is this good news?" (Y/n) enquired coldly. The lone she wolf still refusing to look at their jailer.

"There is to be a celebration in Winterfell. But not for your sister. For you, (Y/n). The marriage of the oldest child of Ned Stark to the new Lord of the north. The combination of two great houses. The cementing of our alliance. The............"

"I noticed that you said, new "Lord" of the North, my lord. Forgive me, but I believed that the marriage would be between myself and your son here. Not between myself and you. I am sure that your dear wife would have something to say about that. Or was it merely a slip of the tongue? Wishful thinking perhaps?" (Y/n) interrupted. The she wolf finally turning and glaring at the Lord of the Dreadfort. Roose not sure at that very moment, whether he wanted to slap or kiss the beautiful woman, as she moved to stand before him.

"I of course meant my son." Roose affirmed. Despite knowing that, in truth, making his son happy was the furthest thing from his mind. That the only one that he really wanted the she wolf to be with, was him.

"You may force me to marry your bastard, Roose. But that does not mean that the people will accept you. And I can assure you, that there will only ever be one great House in Winterfell. And it most certainly isn't yours." (Y/n) hissed. The lone she wolf suddenly finding her body slammed up against the wall. Ramsay, Sansa and Baelish not sure what to do, as the sounds of (Y/n) gasping for breath filled the room.

"You should watch your tongue, (Y/n). Your father and brother are dead. Your father's bastard not here to protect you. We are all you have now. You can either make things hard for yourself and your sister. Or you can make them easy. Do you understand?" Roose growled into (Y/n)'s ear. The Lord of the Dreadfort finally removing his hand from her throat, as she struggled to nod.

"Now listen to me. You will be seen to marry my son. You will take the Bolton name and give our rule in the north, its legitimacy. Yet Ramsay will not be the only one that you take to your bed. You will bear the men of House Bolton, sons, (Y/n). And Winterfell will be ruled by my House for generations to come." Roose whispered, as he pushed his body up against hers.

"And if I refuse to let you, as well as your son have me?" (Y/n) enquired hoarsely. The she wolf carefully rubbing at her throat.

"Then I think that you will find that your sister will become one of the new whores in Baelish's brothels. And I will make sure that she pleasures only the worst of his customers. Do you understand, (Y/n)?" Roose explained. He and (Y/n) looking over to where Baelish was preventing Sansa from rushing to her sister's aid.

"I understand all too well, my lord." (Y/n) replied. Smiling softly to herself, as the Lord of the Dreadfort left her. Returning to the others in the room. Roose informing his son that he would have his bride. No one in the room having any idea, that the murderer of her brother had just played right into the lone she wolf's hands.