Fianna Bua, Lady of House Bua, never thought that she'd be riding off to war for the liege lord she hadn't even met.
But oaths are oaths, the Buas have fought alongside the Starks for centuries and she wasn't about to be hailed an oath breaker.
So w...
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Roose
Whatever brief satisfaction Roose Bolton felt when his son had arrived carrying the Greyjoy banners was distinguished the second he had gotten word of what happened at the Dreadfort.
He could place blame on himself for taking the majority of the Bolton men with him to Winterfell. He could blame himself for allowing Ramsay to take another significant portion to Moat Cailin. He could blame himself for not killing Robb and Fianna Stark when he had the chance. But alas, he chose to direct his anger at his bastard son. As he usually did.
"When that wench Fianna Stark escaped I had assumed she would be dead on the side of the road within a week. But no, not only did she make it home, she managed to sire half the North and be named the Queen of it," he erupted in rage, angrily gripping the wooden map board and flipping it off the table.
"The North already don't trust us," he continued his rant, "now they have a rebel queen to get behind, one who didn't bloody betray the king."
Ramsay stayed silent, not daring to speak up while Roose was in the mood that he was in. The elder man sat down then, running his hands over his balding head and down his thinned face. The war had aged him, it was easy to see.
"What's our options then?" Garrett dared to speak, albeit in a low enough voice. "War?"
"War?" Roose breathed a laugh in sarcastic amusement, "we have to assume that every Northern family that didn't come to pledge fealty to us are at her back. I heard she has an army of three thousand gathered. If we march, we're marching to our deaths. Not to mention the Umbers, Karstarks and Flints could betray us at any second to join them. It's suicide."
"This is ridiculous, Fianna Stark is a girl. And a Bua one at that. Once we get Sansa Stark they'll have no option but to pledge fealty to us," Ramsay sounded out, his lip twitching when he spoke of the Bua traitor. He had spent months working on Robb Stark's psyche, it was safe to assume that she probably got her hands on him the second she took over the Dreadfort.
"If you wed Sansa Stark, your children will be the heirs to the North," Roose agreed, raising his eyebrows as he thought more about it. Out of nowhere, coming to a realisation, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Unless Fianna Bua already has the heir."
The rest of the men in the room looked on in confusion, waiting for their Lord to elaborate.
"If Fianna survived the escape and reached Baelfort, who's to say the babe she was carrying didn't survive too?"
"That would explain her outpouring of support..." Garrett agreed, his eyebrows raising in realisation.
"Attacking her directly won't work. Having you wed Sansa Stark won't work," Roose mused, rubbing his chin.
