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Post by Gandalf on Jun 15, 2020 11:04:53 GMT -5
Bolton said nothing. He stank of warm death, and was still delirious with fever, though still lucid and more aware of his surroundings than he should have been for one in such a state. Pale eyes stared at Jon, filled with nothing but detachment. His ghostly lips stretched out into a slight smile. Walda took Snow’s hand out the carriage, waddling her way past the Wildlings into the Dreadfort.
”If you are to kill me, Snow, get it over with.”
Bolton finally whispered, like a breath on the wind. His wounds were weeping, the dressings stained with pale blood.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 15, 2020 11:17:15 GMT -5
Bolton said nothing. He stank of warm death, and was still delirious with fever, though still lucid and more aware of his surroundings than he should have been for one in such a state. Pale eyes stared at Jon, filled with nothing but detachment. His ghostly lips stretched out into a slight smile. Walda took Snow’s hand out the carriage, waddling her way past the Wildlings into the Dreadfort. ”If you are to kill me, Snow, get it over with.”Bolton finally whispered, like a breath on the wind. His wounds were weeping, the dressings stained with pale blood. He nodded and with the help of a wildling pulled him from the carriage. Another two men grabbed Bolton's legs and carried him to the godswood, where they left him on the ground, before the weirwood, the godstree's face witnessing everything. That and a large crow, perched on a branch, one that looked at Bolton with intelligent beady eyes. The lord was unceremoniously placed on his knees, a trunk of wood brought to place his head on. Jon waited, both hands on the crossguard of the unsheathed Valyrian sword with wolven pommel.
"In the name of the North and my House, I, Jon Snow, son of Ned Stark, late Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, condem you, Lord Roose Bolton, to death. For your many crimes, including your abhorrent participation in the slaughter at the Crossing, betraying your liege -my brother Robb Stark- and plotting his death alongside his mother, Lady Catelyn"He left the words sink. "I grant you peace of mind, if a man like you would ever find solace in something like this: you child and wife shall not be harmed. Any last words? "
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 15, 2020 11:54:34 GMT -5
Bolton said no words, merely exhaling deeply and placing his head on the block. The game had ended, and there was nothing left for him to do except die. Grimly, he went to his appointed fate, with no regrets or emotion. His pale eyes stared up at Jon, merely waiting for the sword to be swung.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 15, 2020 12:02:26 GMT -5
Bolton said no words, merely exhaling deeply and placing his head on the block. The game had ended, and there was nothing left for him to do except die. Grimly, he went to his appointed fate, with no regrets or emotion. His pale eyes stared up at Jon, merely waiting for the sword to be swung. He raised the sword over his head and with one mighty swing ended Lord Bolton's storied and infamous career. All that remained of his was a babe in a woman's belly. "He didn't give my brother and his mother a fair burial, but, I'm not a monster like he was. Let his body join his kin at the crypts"Said Jon, cleaning the Longclaw with snow. The body was dragged alongside the head. Jon then went to see Lady Bolton to settle a few matters, he hoped the woman wouldn't be having a fit or was being molested by anyone. Lady Walda was to remain the castle's lady, in the name of her welp. It would be a long minority. If there was a future.
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 15, 2020 12:16:31 GMT -5
Walda sat in her chambers, crying. The Fat Frey was somewhat overwhelmed by the course of events, and feared greatly the hairy Wildmen that now filled her husband's castle.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 15, 2020 12:25:05 GMT -5
Walda sat in her chambers, crying. The Fat Frey was somewhat overwhelmed by the course of events, and feared greatly the hairy Wildmen that now filled her husband's castle. Jon arrived, unarmed and closed the door before Ghost could enter.
"My Lady, my condolences, even if I sound rather hypocrite currently"He was simpathetic to her plight and he sits next to her. "I did what I had to, there was no other way"The young man looks at her with a faint smile. She was so very young, probably Jon's age. She didn't diserve that, Walda wasn't guilty of being Walder's granddaughter and Roose's wife. "I wish you to remain Lady of the Dreadfort, you have my word that no harm shall befall you or your babe. Soon we shall leave"He tries to look at her eyes. "Is there any man you trust, Lady Walda? Is there anything you need or want?"
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Post by Gandalf on Jun 15, 2020 18:39:07 GMT -5
Walda continued crying, her high pitched sobbing filling her husband's empty halls. She took little comfort from Lord Snow's words, being utterly hysterical.
"I want... To be.. left alone."
Walda sobbed, surrounded by savages and strangers with not a friendly face in sight.
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Post by oznerol on Jun 15, 2020 18:54:14 GMT -5
Walda continued crying, her high pitched sobbing filling her husband's empty halls. She took little comfort from Lord Snow's words, being utterly hysterical. "I want... To be.. left alone." Walda sobbed, surrounded by savages and strangers with not a friendly face in sight. Jon got up from the bed and left her there. The servants that remained at the castle were told to attend Lady Walda, just like the maester was said to calm her down, if possible.
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