The Fall of the Boltons

Boltons Fall 

Two days after the battle, Harry was sitting in the high chair in the middle of the Dreadfort, desperately trying to keep his headache from getting any worse through pure willpower. He kept his face impassive however, knowing it was needed when he was in the company of all the Lords who marched with him. This was a time when he couldn’t afford to show anything but strength. Not when things were so delicate as they were. 

The last few moons had been a mess.  Too much has happened in the North too quickly. He originally planned to have the Children and Giants swear fealty to him before spending a few months getting them settled. He would take his time to make sure that they had a proper place in the North. He would make sure they would be able to interact with the Lords and slowly integrate with the current power balance so that the Lords would not only accept them, but come to see them as a fixture of the North itself over the next few years. 

Instead, the Faith Militant launched an attack. Before he even had time to start dealing with all the politics solving that mess would involve, he was forced to go to war with House Bolton while trying to juggle integrating the Children and the Giants with different Lords while on the march. Balancing different lords egos was already a difficult prospect during war, adding two mythical species that some Lords werent too sure about only added to the issues.  

He sincerely wishes that the end of the war would allow him to finally start getting ahead and making progress on his current projects without any more problems. Unfortunately, knowing his luck, that wasn't likely. 

He took a sip of water while waiting for his uncle to begin his report on all they were able to learn after taking the castle from Roose.  

Standing in the middle of the hall, Ned Stark looked how he felt. There were visible bags under his eyes and he had a slight slump in his posture marking his exhaustion. For Ned Stark, who always had a face that was carved from ice in official meetings with the lords, it said a lot about his uncle's state. He would have to remember to give him some time to rest after this meeting. 

He wasn't one to shirk from duty however and quickly decided to begin his report under the eager eyes of the Lords who had a vested interest in seeing just how much the Boltons fucked up. Ned opened a scroll and began reading. “The final counts are in for the men. Our army lost three thousand four hundred and twelve men taking the castle.  Two hundred and six of those men were from the Northern Army. No Giants and Children were killed, although there were some injuries. There were over four thousand injuries among the men but most of them should make a full recovery in some time. “ 

The Lords quickly broke out into excited whispers among themselves. Despite himself, Harry couldn't help but feel pleased by those numbers as well. No matter how much such a thought simultaneously made himself feel disgusted. It was a good number considering how formidable the Dreadfort is as a castle and the terrible tactics Roose employed.  

Before he could get too much into that thought his uncle continued. “The losses among the Boltons soldiers were total after Lord Stark ordered for there to be no survivors.”  

There were cheers around the hall. Harry saw Lord Umber drain a whole mug of ale after toasting in celebration. 

He saw his uncle hesitate slighlty. “Among the smallfolk we fought, out of fifteen thousand of them, there are over four thousand dead with twice that number injured.” Harry clenched his jaw to fight the burst of rage and guilt he felt. He could have saved them if he accepted Boltons terms. 

The hall remained silent 

Ned swallowed. “Of the children kept in the dungeons, there were originally four thousand of them. They were kept in extremely bad conditions. There was not nearly enough space for all of them, even with the large number of dungeons in the Dreadfort. They were lying on top of each other when we finished counting them. Over a thousand were dead. Most that remain are ill and have been moved away from our men. I expect many more will die in the coming days.” 

The roar of outrage that came across the room shook Harry to his bones. 

Lord Umber threw his chair against the wall when he stood up. Smashing it to splinters. 

“Fucking Boltons! Not a single shred of honour! He took them hostage and didn't even treat them properly!” 

He wasn't the only Lord that reacted badly. Lord Manderly looked green and Lord Karstark was cursing their entire heritage. His grandfather, Lord Ryswell was probably the worst though. The man was bone white, gripping his cup with so much strength his hands were shaking. His eyes were staring into the distance. He probably just realized what type of monster he married his daughter to. 

Harry closed his eyes. He heard about how bad the conditions in the dungeons were from his uncle, but he hadn't had a chance to visit them himself. Hearing about the number of dead children though, that was something else. 

Harry let the screaming go on for a minute before he opened his eyes again.  

The hall was still filled with the sounds of screaming with no signs of the Lords calming down anytime soon. 

Harry gestured to the Giant standing on his right. Mar Mog was a Giant that opted to join his Winterguard when he defeated the Boltons, once he knew what the role consisted of. After winning such a decisive battle, the Giants were impressed with him and insisted on guarding him. Even if he didn't fight himself. 

Harry had taught the Giant what a few of his gestures meant and the Giant was a quick learner. Without any further instruction he lifted the massive stave he was holding before banging it on the floor.  

It was very loud. The room instantly quieted. Harry looked back at his uncle. “Continue.” 

All the Lords stared at Ned with a focused intensity. Except for Lord Umber who was receiving a new chair from a servant. 

His uncle took a breath. “The castle was searched for any more secret passages as you ordered. Yesterday, a few men found one in the dungeons. It was a torture chamber. Inside there are a few corpses a few weeks to a few moons old. Each of them seems to have been flayed.”  

Harry sighed. He wasn't even surprised anymore. 

Some of the Lords looked as if they were ready to go on another rant, but a sharp glance from Harry stopped that. He looked back at his uncle and silently gestured for him to speak. 

His uncle hesitated for a moment before he spoke. “There were some skins on the wall from previous Starks.” 

There were sharp intakes of air from all over the hall, but mercifully none of the Lords interrupted this time. 

Harry gritted his teeth for a moment before speaking. “How do you know they were from Starks?” 

With a tight voice, Ned answered. “There were signs next to them stating who they were from.” 

Everyone in the hall was watching Harry with bated breath to see how he would react. For his part, Harry was using his occlumency training to keep his face as blank as he could. As he had been doing since the start of this horrid report began. He was struggling at this point though. 

Harry decided to switch topics at this stage, lest he really lose his composure. “Tell me about the ravens he received. Anything important?” 

Ned nodded. “We have confirmation he was in talks with someone to the South involved with the Faith. He let the Faith Militant land unopposed. There are no names though, so we don't know who he was speaking to.” 

Harry nodded as calmly as he could. He couldn't stop his fist from clenching his goblet though. “I see.” His voice sounded monotone even to his own ears.  

Harry took a few moments to calm his thoughts before he looked back over the hall. Every lord seemed to be on the edge of their seats waiting to see what he would say.  

Harry had a few more things he wished to know about first. He looked at Leaf. “Has there been any luck finding his bastard son?” 

The Child of the Forest stood. She looked a little ill but was remarkably composed compared to everyone else. Harry guessed that was probably due to all the things she had seen in her long life. After a glance around the hall she began to speak. “My sisters and Lord Dustin found him this morning. He was attempting to make his way South. They are dragging him back to the Dreadfort as we speak.” 

Harry nodded slowly. “Good. I sent a letter to Domeric when we were at Winterfell, commanding him to come North. I asked one of your sisters to watch him. The letter should have arrived a while ago. What happened there?” 

Slowly the Child of the Forest shook her head. “He decided to leave for Essos my Lord. Lord Royce caught him though and sent him North with some of his men. They should arrive in White Harbour in the next fortnight.” 

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. Oh, Domeric.... 

After a few moments of grief for his cousin, he opened his eyes and hardened himself. 

He looked over the Lords and spoke. “Roose Bolton will be executed. Ramsey Snow will be executed. Domeric Bolton will be sentenced to the Nights Watch, if only because I won't be a kinslayer. House Bolton will cease to exist, and this cursed castle will be torn down. What happens to the land will be decided in the next few moons once I have had time to think of the matter in Winterfell.” 

With that Harry stood and walked out of the hall. It was times like this he wished he was old enough to get drunk without damaging his body.  

Harry ignored the cheering that happened in the hall when the doors closed. 

Line Break 

A few days later Harry was in front of the castle with all his Lords lined up behind him.  

In front of him, there were thousands of smallfolk. All of them looking angry and hungry for blood. Blood that they would soon have, as he decided the Boltons would be executed in front of the people they wronged so much. The least Harry could do was provide these people some closure. 

Roose Bolton and Ramsey Snow were each held in shackles with gags in their mouths. After all the shit they caused Harry wanted to avoid dealing with them as much as possible. Today would be the first time he saw Roose since he took the Dreadfort. It was also the first time he ever laid eyes on Ramsey. 

After his guards got the smallfolk to quieten down, Harry took a deep breath and started to speak as loudly and clearly as he could. “Citizens of the Dreadfort. You have gone through some hard times. Terrible times. You have been betrayed by your liege Lord. By the man that was supposed to be your protector. Roose Bolton spent your lives cheaply and without regard. For this you have my deepest sympathies. House Bolton has been a stain on the North for thousands of years. They have rebelled before. Caused wars before. Betrayed their oaths and their honour before. Always, House Stark has been lenient. We have given them second, and even third chances. That ends today. I know many of you have lost loved ones. Others have been tortured or starved. Nothing I say or do can ease the pain many of you might feel. I only hope that you can gain some small measure of closure from watching justice be done.” 

There was some mumbling among the smallfolk, but overall, they remained mostly silent.  

Seeing this, Harry gestured to the guards to bring forth Ramsey Snow.  

The bastard boy struggled as he was dragged in front of Hadrian and his uncle. Kicking his legs and screaming into his gag the entire time, with a wild look in his eyes. Seeing how young he was, only a few years older than Harry himself, brought some guilt.  There was nothing linking the boy to his father's actions. His uncle Eddard even tried to talk Hadrian out of his verdict when he stated that Ramsey Bolton had to die. For a minute, he even contemplated changing his mind due to Eddards pleads. 

Yet, in the end he remained unmoved. Harry had to remember that this wasn't Earth. Things were more brutal in this second life he had. He had to be more brutal himself. Besides, he wasn't going to allow a single Bolton to escape and become a problem for his descendants. Not after they had already betrayed the Starks generosity multiple times. Not after all their crimes. 

Harry gave another gesture and Ramseys gag was removed. The screaming started immediately. “You can't do this to me! You can't kill me just to please these animals! I'm a Bolton! You can't! My blood is worth more than theirs! You can't-” Just like that, his guilt vanished. Harry watched the boy rant and rave for a few more seconds and concluded that Ramsey Snow might be mad.  The wild look in his eyes and the ranting about how special his bloodline was, actually made Harry consider that he might be doing a good dead by executing him. 

“I'll kill you! I'll flay you alive! Ill-” 

“Do you have any last words?” Harry interrupted. 

All at once, the energy seemed to drain from Ramsey. He visibly sagged, only being held up by the guards escorting him.  

The Bolton bastard looked at him. “Please! I'll take the Black! I swear! I can be a good brother of the watch! Please!”  

Harry ignored him. He nodded to the guards who pushed his head down over a block of stone. He almost immediately set off again. Fighting and struggling to remain on his feet. “No! Let me go! Let me go! I'll kill you! Ill- “ He was interrupted when one of the guards punched him in the stomach, knocking the air out of him and allowing them to force him down.  

“I, Hadrian Stark, Warden of the North and the Lord of Winterfell, sentence you to die.” 

He gave a nod to the Greatjon who was acting as the executioner today. Due to the fact that Hadrian was still physically not old enough or strong enough to perform the deed cleanly and he didn't want to force his uncle to execute the boy he tried to save. 

“Let me go! Let me-” Ramsey who had started ranting as soon as his breath came back was cut off as Jon Umber swung his greatsword down through his neck.  

The body immediately slumped. 

The smallfolk immediately started cheering.  

Harry turned towards Roose as the guards started dragging the corpse away. The Lord of the Dreadfort was completely different from his bastard son. His face remained impassive and cold. He looked like he felt nothing at his son's death. Harry was beginning to suspect he didn't.  

He nodded to the guards on the sides of the Lord to bring him up next. That turned out to be unneeded, as the Lord of the Dreadfort walked calmly up to the block. With a nod to the guards, his gag was removed. 

Lord Bolton was quick to take advantage of that fact. “Stark.” He stated. “Truly more pragmatic than your ancestors.” 

Harry was in no mood to entertain the soon to be dead man. “Any last words?” 

His reply was simple. “I played the game. I lost.” With that he bent over the block.  

Despite himself, Harry felt some respect grow for the Lord from how fearless he was in the face of death.  

“I, Hadrian Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence you to die.” Lord Umber was quick to swing his sword and his head joined that of his sons on the ground. 

The cheers this time were absolutely deafening. Thousands started celebrating the man's death.  Screaming at the top of their lungs. Most looked satisfied with the way Bolton died, but Harry could see a few faces who broke out into tears and others who still wore looks of anger and dissatisfaction. He knew those men and women wished he killed Roose in a slower, more painful fashion. Unfortunately, Harry could do nothing for them. He had lost a lot of morals he once had, but he would still try and make a death clean if he could help it. If for no other reason than to set an example for future generations.  

He gave the people a few more minutes to calm themselves. When it seemed like it wasn't going to happen, he held up his hand. Those who noticed immediately quietened down and the others were quick to follow.  

Once there was silence, he spoke again. “An old Noble family is no longer ruling this part of the North. A family that has ruled for thousands of years. This means there will be many changes happening for all of you over the next few years. What those will be, I cannot be completely sure yet. But there are a few things that I have decided. The Dreadfort will be torn down. It was a place of suffering. A place of betrayal. A cursed place. A new lord will be placed in charge of some of the Bolton lands. While other pieces of land will be given to lords who have shown loyalty to Winterfell. “ 

Harry took a breath before continuing. “Justice has been done. Roose Bolton is dead. Ramsey Snow is dead and Domeric Bolton will soon be joining the Nights Watch. I pray to the Old Gods for the innocents lost. May they be in a better place.” 

With that, Harry turned and started walking back into the castle. He wanted to start preparing to leave as soon as possible. The sooner he was back in Winterfell, the better. There were a lot of different things that Harry had to juggle for the future prosperity of the North and a few of them had fallen to the wayside in the last few moons. He needed time to get everything sorted out. 

At least he can be satisfied that one major obstacle in his path was removed today. He just hopes that Domeric would accept taking the Black. It was really the only thing he could do to protect his cousin when practically all his lords are calling for an end to House Bolton. 

The next morning, when Leaf informed Harry that thirty men started making their way towards The Wall with whispered plans of vengeance, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. 

 Little bit of a shorter chapter. Next chapter Hadrian is back in Winterfell deciding the next steps the North should take.