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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Sansa
Edd had apologised to Sansa for the food she was served, claiming the Night's Watch were not known for having the most extravagant dishes.
Little did he know, this was probably the best meal Sansa had in years - made especially sweeter by the fact she wasn't at all anxious about whether or not it was poisoned.
A man burst through the door and disrupted the quiet meal, holding up a small scroll and marching towards Jon.
"A letter for you, Lord Commander," he greeted him, handing over the scroll. Jon looked particularly peeved by this, she noticed. The words felt foreign to her ears, she had been so accustomed to hearing people call him 'bastard' or simply 'Jon'.
"I'm not Lord Commander, any more," he retorted in a rough voice, turning back to the table with the letter in hand. Jon's eyes gazed over the Bolton seal, and a newfound tension came over the table and it's inhabitants.
Frustratedly, he broke it open and unrolled the letter, beginning to read it aloud.
"To the traitor and bastard Jon Snow," it began. "You allowed thousands of wildlings south of the wall. You have betrayed your own kind, you have betrayed the North. Winterfell is mine, bastard, come and see. Fianna Stark has killed the Frey family," Jon stopped to meet Sansa's eyes, the two's breath hitching, "while she is in the South with the entire Northern army, there will be nothing stopping me from reaching Castle Black. I want my bride-to-be back, send her to me - bastard, and I will not trouble you or your wildling lovers. Keep her from me, and I will slaughter every wildling man, woman and babe living under your protection. You will watch as I skin them living, you-" he broke off, his eyes skimming over the next line. Decidedly, he knew better than to read it, and folded up the scroll again.
"Go on," Sansa demanded.
"It's just more of the same," he refused, prompting her to snatch the letter from his hands and continue to read it.
"You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister. Then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see. Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."
She placed the letter back down on the table dejectedly, clearly shaken from its contents, looking to Jon for a reaction.
"Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North?" He echoed, his shoulders tense with anger.
"His father's dead. Fianna sent a man undercover to kill him, although I'm still not so sure it wasn't Ramsay. And now she's gone South for the gods know how long-"
