Chapter 9

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Walda was always up for a chat.

All she did was follow Walda around. Lyarra took notes on what she needed to know about the Dreadfort, all while carrying conversations as if multitasking was the most natural thing in the world to her.

She might not have had access to ravens, but Walda wanted someone who would listen to all the things she knew, and Lyarra was that person. She revealed that King Joffrey had been poisoned at his own wedding and that some thought Prince Oberyn Martell was responsible, given his sister had been raped and murdered by The Mountain on Lannister orders. Then, she'd told her that her sister, Sansa, had fled the Crownlands altogether.

Thus, Lyarra kept herself informed despite how little she was allowed to do. During the first month at the Dreadfort, she did much of the same things. In the mornings, she walked around with Walda after breakfast. In the afternoons, she took her own detour down into the kennels, where the Boltons kept a pack of vicious dogs.

All she had to do was wait for Ramsay and Myranda, the kennel master's daughter, to be occupied before she could go inside to get a moment with the dogs. They liked to hunt in the afternoon, and would take Theon with them (apparently now known as 'Reek' after Ramsay had tortured him), which meant the kennels would be left unguarded.

Walda had unintentionally given her the idea to befriend the dogs when she'd talked about how they only ever ate human flesh. Lyarra had started by slipping ground chamomile into the dogs' water, which was given to them around afternoon when she was present. She hoped they'd smell her each time they were washed over with this calming sensation, so she might eventually work herself up to feeding them directly, and making them think of her whenever they thought of food and satisfaction. Perhaps then, the dogs would answer to her.

The evenings she spent reading, a nice thing she was allowed to do given no one thought her capable of doing any harm with books. In some instances, the Boltons covered less bases than the Ironborn had.

She expected that Locke had arrived to the Wall by the end of that month, about the same time when Joffrey's younger brother, Tommen, was crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms. Soon, Lord Bolton would be sending Ramsay away to take Moat Cailin from the Ironborn. Walda had been told by Lord Bolton that if Ramsay did well in this, he may legitimize him and make him his heir, a gift to all bastards from King Tommen Baratheon– the biggest bastard of them all.

She hadn't had much of an opportunity to speak with Ramsay. It was probably a good thing, considering he seemed so deranged, particularly in Myranda's company. Her biggest worry was that she might not be able to manipulate him– he seemed too set in his own ways, too quick on his feet when it came to changing someone's mind. His father had been furious about how he'd tortured Theon and somehow was calmed when Ramsay showed him how much power he reallyhad over him. Walda had been allowed to see it– Theon Greyjoy was nothing more than a puppet now.

On top of this, it seemed Ramsay was a good fighter with most weapons. Not as good with a sword, but he could wield an ax against any man and would certainly overpower her if she tried anything without first gaining his trust. She had to first learn more about him, what drove him, what sort of things he expected from other people, what methods he used to exert his control. He was different from other men, much crazier than any she'd ever met. This was the sort of man that Maggy had warned her about.

Her first opportunity came sooner than she expected. She was rocking Minisa to sleep with a song when she heard the bells beginning to ring, alerting them of intruders. Down in the kennels she could hear swords clashing together, and she sensed men running in the halls to meet whoever had entered the Dreadfort.

She remained in her chambers, keeping herself and Minisa quiet. Eventually, the noise stopped. She heard the footsteps return, though most passed. Only once did they stop– right outside her door.

Zokla | Theon GreyjoyWhere stories live. Discover now