Flayer

47.Edda

I stood near the Gates of Winterfell with my daughter in my arms. Lady Arena stood beside me holding Willard's hand. The baby had been struggling to walk, yet he still tried.

We were seeing the Bolton Army off. My husband was leading them to protect the Dreadfort, which would be under attack soon.

I wore our banner over my shoulders as I had during the Battle of Winterfell. Holding my direwolf by the leash I kept my chin high so that my men saw my strength.

My lord husband approached me with a box in his hand. He knelt before me, offering it. "For my lady."

Unboxing it I realized it was an extravagant ruby necklace. I gasped at the sight of it. "M-my lord-"

He gave me a peck on the lips as he stood up. "My lady deserves the best," after he place the necklace around my neck he gazed down at Erika. Stroking her newborn skin he kissed her little nose. "Farewell, my princess."

With a light nod at the Lord Commander, Ramsay held out his had for Lya's leash. He was to take her with him in order to show his dominance over Winterfell.

I gave my direwolf to him, watching the huge animal being led to his horse's side and tied to the saddle.

As our men started to ride out Ramsay gasped, almost forgetting to tell me one thing:

"This man who stands near you will protect you while you are here," he gestured to him. He was an old, bearded man who wielded a simple sword.

I looked him up and down. "Who may you be?"

"Lord Crasterly, your grace," he bowed before me. "I will not let any harm come to ye."

"You better not, my lord, for she is more precious than the Dreadfort to me," Ramsay warned before galloping out.

...

The strange Lord Crastely knocked on my doors that night while my handmaidens bathed the children.

"May I come in?" He asked.

I was hesitant. Should I trust this man?

His overall nature was good hearted and good willed, something I did not see often with Bolton men. His presence was calming in a way. I felt as if I did not have to validate myself always when around him.

"Yer chambers are quite elegant, Lady Stark," he complimented before gesturing the chair "May I?"

I cleared my throat, "Yes. And, Lord Crastely... It's Lady Bolton." I sat in front of him. "Would you like to drink?"

"It's not very wise to see me drink as a first impression, I'm afraid," he confessed.

"Smart man." I nodded, smiling lightly. "I thank you for your services. What you are doing is a great deal for the Warden of the North."

"Forgive me, but aren't you the Wardeness of the North... You are a Stark, afterall, and he is a Bolton" He tilted his head.

I bit my tongue. How was I to respond?

"The husband of a Wardeness is a Ward, my good lord." I responded.

"So your brother was the Young Wolf then?" He asked, "Are you the Young-er Wolf?"

"Are you mocking me?" I asked quite threateningly.

Lord Crastely raised his eyebrow at me.

"I am the Heir of Winterfell." I explained to him, getting uncomfortable, "You're lucky you ever get to speak to me. Have you heard of the Code?"

"The Boltonic Code?" He laughed, "That thing hanging on the walls won't unite the North against your sister, and it won't keep you safe from Ramsay. You know that."

After hesitating momentarily, shocked that this man would speak to me like this, I shot up from my chair furiously, pulling open my doors so that my guards could get this idiot out of my chambers "GUARDS!"

But as soon as I opened the door...

The bodies of at least five of my men lay at the foot of the door.

Before I could scream Lord Crastely covered my mouth and nose with his hand, holding up a foul-stenched handcloth as a group of hooded figures appeared from the darkness.

"Lady Edda Stark," he explained to me what was happening. "My name is Davos Seaworth and I was sent by the orders of your sister Sansa Stark to retrieve you from Winterfell."

The sleeping poison in the handcloth made me fall into a deep slumber.