#bran starveling

[heromonty]

[selkiewife]

theon weirwood

Come vibe with me about Theon and weirwood imagery and the weir walker theory!

Awhile ago, I did a deep dive into David Lightbringer's videos and I truly enjoyed his theory about the origin of the Others linked here: Symbolism of the Others: Weir Walkers. In brief, his theory is that the Others were the original spirits of the Weirwoods. They were a form of Sidhe (fae) who were violently evicted from their weirwood homes. He has a lot of theories as to how that happened- some of which involves the sacrificing of children or children of the forest- but the basic idea is that the weirwood trees were once green trees that were corrupted and transformed into the red and white trees we see in the series through the eviction of the Others:

The emptied-out white weirwood trees then became wight trees, like corpses with most of their minds and souls removed… and in fact that’s exactly what the weirwood trees look like, with their bleeding, anguished faces, bone-white bark, and leaves like blood hands. They look like dead people; like zombie trees, like wight trees. These hollowed out zombie trees have since become a home for a new hivemind of greenseers – many of whom are humans like Bloodraven and Bran... (David Lightbringer.)

What I find touching about this theory in regards to Theon is how his life seems to be mirroring that of the weirwood trees. Like the trees, he's evicted or stolen from his original home, the Iron Islands. But through Ramsay’s torture, his very identity and essence is also stolen, leaving him a shell of what he once was. Weirwoods are skinchanged in the novels and in a symbolic sense, so is Theon. Theon’s actual skin is removed through flaying and amputation and he is starved and beaten. This horrific torture forces Theon to accept the persona of Reek into his body (like a skinchanger entering a weirwood) and reject Theon. After the torture, Theon's physical form as "Reek" even starts to resemble a Heart Tree. He transitions from the "lean, dark youth of nineteen who found everything amusing," in AGOT to the "white haired starveling" of ADWD. This is the most evident when we first meet him again in Reek I in ADWD:

When he raised a hand, he was shocked to see how white it was, how fleshless. Skin and bones, he thought. I have an old man’s hands. (ADWD) “His hair’s gone white and he is three stone thinner, aye, but this is no serving man. Have you forgotten?” The crookback lord looked again and gave a sudden snort. “Him? Can it be? Stark’s ward. Smiling, always smiling.” “He smiles less often now,” Lord Ramsay confessed. “I may have broken some of his pretty white teeth.” (ADWD) “There’s blood on your mouth,” Ramsay observed. “Have you been chewing on your fingers again, Reek?” (ADWD)

So he goes from a dark youth- a "green" boy- like the original green of the weirwood leaves and the green of the sea to a corpse like figure with white hair and white bony hands. He has just eaten the rat so he has blood on his mouth, as Ramsay remarks. Ramsay also asks him if he has been chewing on his fingers again, indicating that there may still be blood on his hands from the rat. But the question makes us imagine bloody, flayed fingers as well.

Theon also has metaphorical blood on his hands because of the murders he committed or allowed- particularly those of the miller's children- which connects with the idea of sacrificial children playing a part in making the Others or evicting them from the trees. It is even more layered when you remember that Theon himself was brought to Winterfell as a potential child sacrifice.

Ramsay also mentions that he broke Theon's teeth, which calls to mind a bleeding mouth- like the bleeding CARVED mouth of the heart tree. Ramsay has essentially carved Theon into Reek with his flaying knife.

During Theon's godswood scene in the A Ghost in Winterfell chapter of ADWD, a red weirwood leaf falls onto Theon’s head, completing the imagery of Theon as a Heart Tree and giving him the "weirwood stigmata," which a lot of other characters share at different times in the novel such as Arya, Catelyn, Dany, Jon, etc. It is also so interesting that Theon thinks of himself as a ghost in this chapter- Theon is like a ghost who use to live inside his tortured and abused body just as the Others are like ghosts that used to live inside the corrupted Weirwood Trees.

I've always loved Theon's godswood scene, but I've also always wondered why the weirwood trees are so intrinsically connected to Theon (at least in my mind.) I mean, it does make sense that they would be- he did grow up in Winterfell and many important things happen to him in the godswood throughout his life. And obviously, there is also the connection with Bran who may be reaching out to him through the Heart Tree. But these two connections to the weirwoods- growing up at Winterfell and Bran- didn't completely encapsulate the incredible, almost empathetic? bond I feel Theon has with the weirwoods and "the old gods."

But then this theory- that the Others came from the trees- did seem to be the last piece that made that scene as powerful as it is to me. It's beautiful to think of Theon- who has been othered (Othered) all his life and who has essentially become a wighted version of himself- is standing in front of these wighted corpse trees praying to be Theon again. And he feels so recognized- so understood by these trees that are also seeking to have their spirits returned to them.

They know me. They know my name. (ADWD)

It makes it all the more moving and beautiful to me.

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Reek III (Theon III) [Chapter 32]

The dogs were fond of Reek; he slept with them oft as not, and sometimes Ben Bones let him share their supper. 

[...]

Red Jeyne slammed into his chest and knocked him off his feet. She was lean, hard muscle, where Reek was loose, grey skin and brittle bones, a white-haired starveling.

[...]

The dogs enjoyed the run of the hall, however, and provided the night's best entertainment, when Maude and Grey Jeyne tore into one of Lord Stout's hounds over an especially meaty bone that Will Short had tossed them.

I'm starting to think that's an important name!

+.+.+

Ramsay Bolton was attired as befit the lord of the Hornwood and heir to the Dreadfort. His mantle was stitched together from wolfskins and clasped against the autumn chill by the yellowed teeth of the wolf's head on his right shoulder. On one hip he wore a falchion, its blade as thick and heavy as a cleaver; on the other a long dagger and a small curved flaying knife with a hooked point and a razor-sharp edge. 

I think I'm going to pay attention to that dagger.

I am completely unfazed by Ramsay wearing wolfskins. Doesn't trouble me in the slightest.

The queen regarded him coolly. "I had not thought you so niggardly. The king I'd thought to wed would have laid a wolfskin across my bed before the sun went down." - Eddard III, AGOT

x

"Dogs," the big bald man said contemptuously. "Yet I'm told there's nothing like a wolfskin cloak to warm a man by night." He made a sharp gesture. "Take them." - Bran V, AGOT

x

"He'll set his wolf on you, cousin," warned Big Walder.

"Let him. I always wanted a wolfskin cloak." - Bran II, ACOK

x

"Come first light, I mean to bring them back." He hooked his thumbs through his swordbelt. "I need huntsmen. Who wants a nice warm wolfskin to see them through the winter? Gage?" - Theon IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Little Walder swung down from the saddle. "You can see to my horse too, Reek. And to my little cousin's."

"I can see to my own horse," said Big Walder. Little Walder had become Lord Ramsay's best boy and grew more like him every day, but the smaller Frey was made of different stuff and seldom took part in his cousin's games and cruelties.

I think I figured it out.

Little Walder is like Ramsay.

Big Walder is like Roose.

+.+.+

Big Walder pulled the saddle off his grey. "An old man we met on the road, is all. He was driving an old nanny goat and four kids."

"His lordship slew him for his goats?"

"His lordship slew him for calling him Lord Snow. The goats were good, though. We milked the mother and roasted up the kids."

Lord Snow. Reek nodded, his chains clinking as he wrestled with Blood's saddle straps. By any name, Ramsay's no man to be around when he is in a rage. 

We already know he rages at this, but it's an important reminder for later on.

+.+.+

"Did you find your cousins, my lord?"

"No. I never thought we would. They're dead. Lord Wyman had them killed. That's what I would have done if I was him."

Under what other circumstances would you kill a Frey?

Wyman's three Frey guests have gone missing. My heart breaks.

+.+.+

The dogs enjoyed the run of the hall, however, and provided the night's best entertainment, when Maude and Grey Jeyne tore into one of Lord Stout's hounds over an especially meaty bone that Will Short had tossed them.

The fight did not end until their host's dog was dead. Stout's old hound never stood a mummer's chance. He had been one against two, and Ramsay's bitches were young, strong, and savage. 

Shaggydog can take two hounds.

I'm not worried. I'm not concerned.

+.+.+

Ben Bones, who liked the dogs better than their master, had told Reek they were all named after peasant girls Ramsay had hunted, raped, and killed back when he'd still been a bastard, running with the first Reek. "The ones who give him good sport, anywise. The ones who weep and beg and won't run don't get to come back as bitches." 

Sometimes the dead come back to haunt you, Ramsay.

+.+.+

"He's trained 'em to kill wolves as well," Ben Bones had confided. Reek said nothing. He knew which wolves the girls were meant to kill, but he had no wish to watch the girls fighting over his severed toe.

I am unbothered. I am indifferent.

Most people are aware of the note that George included in The Lion and The Rose script.

[N.B. A note for future reference. A season or two down the line Ramsay’s pack of wolfhounds are going to be sent against the Stark direwolves, so we should build up the dogs as much as possible in this and subsequent episodes.]

I can't see Nymeria or Summer participating in these events, so it has to be Shaggydog and Ghost.

+.+.+

The Lord of the Dreadfort glanced idly at the remnants of the feast, at the dead dog, at the hangings on the walls, at Reek in his chains and fetters. "Out," he told the feasters, in a voice as soft as a murmur. "Now. The lot of you."

Somehow Roose is more terrifying than Ramsay.

+.+.+

Roose Bolton shrugged. "Lord Wyman's litter moves at a snail's pace … and of course his lordship's health and girth do not permit him to travel more than a few hours a day, with frequent stops for meals. The Freys were anxious to reach Barrowton and be reunited with their kin. Can you blame them for riding on ahead?"

"If that's what they did. Do you believe Manderly?"

His father's pale eyes glittered. "Did I give you that impression? Still. His lordship is most distraught."

Mr. Manderly, you are on thin ice.

+.+.+

"What I noticed was that he brought no hostages."

"I noticed that as well."

"What do you mean to do about it?"

"It is a quandary."

Bolton has sent forth ravens, summoning all the lords of the north to Barrowton. He demands homage and hostages … and witnesses to the wedding of Arya Stark and his bastard Ramsay Snow, by which match the Boltons mean to lay claim to Winterfell. - Davos IV, ADWD

Very very thin ice.

+.+.+

"Barrow Hall and its kitchens are not mine to dispose of," his father said mildly. "I am only a guest there. The castle and the town belong to Lady Dustin, and she cannot abide you."

Ramsay's face darkened. "If I cut off her teats and feed them to my girls, will she abide me then? Will she abide me if I strip off her skin to make myself a pair of boots?"

"Unlikely. And those boots would come dear. They would cost us Barrowton, House Dustin, and the Ryswells." Roose Bolton seated himself across the table from his son. "Barbrey Dustin is my second wife's younger sister, Rodrik Ryswell's daughter, sister to Roger, Rickard, and mine own namesake, Roose, cousin to the other Ryswells. She was fond of my late son and suspects you of having some part in his demise. Lady Barbrey is a woman who knows how to nurse a grievance. Be grateful for that. Barrowton is staunch for Bolton largely because she still holds Ned Stark to blame for her husband's death."

This Barbrey woman sounds important.

I couldn't be happier that Ramsay wants to kill her.

+.+.+

"Stark's little wolflings are dead," said Ramsay, sloshing some more ale into his cup, "and they'll stay dead. Let them show their ugly faces, and my girls will rip those wolves of theirs to pieces. The sooner they turn up, the sooner I kill them again."

The elder Bolton sighed. "Again? Surely you misspeak. You never slew Lord Eddard's sons, those two sweet boys we loved so well. That was Theon Turncloak's work, remember?

He keeps making this mistake.

+.+.+

How many of our grudging friends do you imagine we'd retain if the truth were known? Only Lady Barbrey, whom you would turn into a pair of boots … inferior boots. Human skin is not as tough as cowhide and will not wear as well. By the king's decree you are now a Bolton. Try and act like one. Tales are told of you, Ramsay. I hear them everywhere. People fear you."

"Good."

Yeah Roose, that's the problem with boots made of human skin. They're inferior to cowhide.

Weirdo.

+.+.+

"You are mistaken. It is not good. No tales were ever told of me. Do you think I would be sitting here if it were otherwise? Your amusements are your own, I will not chide you on that count, but you must be more discreet. A peaceful land, a quiet people. That has always been my rule. Make it yours."

"Is this why you left Lady Dustin and your fat pig wife? So you could come down here and tell me to be quiet?"

Normal relationship these two have.

Your amusements are your own, I will not chide you on that count

What the fuck dude.

+.+.+

"Now is the time to smash him [Stannis Baratheon]. Let me march on Deepwood."

"After you are wed."

Ramsay slammed down his cup, and the dregs of his ale erupted across the tablecloth. "I'm sick of waiting. We have a girl, we have a tree, and we have lords enough to witness. I'll wed her on the morrow, plant a son between her legs, and march before her maiden's blood has dried."

Ramsay is a lot more reckless and impulsive than his show version. What a disaster it would be if Roose were to die.

+.+.+

"You will plant a son in her," Roose Bolton said, "but not here. I've decided you shall wed the girl at Winterfell."

That prospect did not appear to please Lord Ramsay. "I laid waste to Winterfell, or had you forgotten?"

"No, but it appears you have … the ironmen laid waste to Winterfell, and butchered all its people. Theon Turncloak."

I wonder if Ramsay will make this mistake in front of the wrong person.

+.+.+

"Even ruined and broken, Winterfell remains Lady Arya's home. What better place to wed her, bed her, and stake your claim? That is only half of it, however. We would be fools to march on Stannis. Let Stannis march on us. He is too cautious to come to Barrowton … but he must come to Winterfell. His clansmen will not abandon the daughter of their precious Ned to such as you. Stannis must march or lose them … and being the careful commander that he is, he will summon all his friends and allies when he marches. He will summon Arnolf Karstark."

Arnolf Karstark is no friend of Stannis Baratheon's.

Stannis is too cautious to go to Barrowton, but he'll have to go to Winterfell. . . the more formidable castle. Okay George, sure.

+.+.+

The Lord of the Dreadfort glanced at Reek. "Oh, and unchain your pet. I am taking him."

"Taking him? Where? He's mine. You cannot have him."

Roose seemed amused by that. "All you have I gave you. You would do well to remember that, bastard. As for this … Reek … if you have not ruined him beyond redemption, he may yet be of some use to us. Get the keys and remove those chains from him, before you make me rue the day I raped your mother."

Reek saw the way Ramsay's mouth twisted, the spittle glistening between his lips. He feared he might leap the table with his dagger in his hand. Instead he flushed red, turned his pale eyes from his father's paler ones, and went to find the keys. 

Dagger!

+.+.+

But as he knelt to unlock the fetters around Reek's wrists and ankles, he leaned close and whispered, "Tell him nothing and remember every word he says. I'll have you back, no matter what that Dustin bitch may tell you. Who are you?"

I don't remember Theon sharing anything with Ramsay. Do we assume it happened?

+.+.+

Ramsay slapped his face. "Take him," he told his father. "He's not even a man. The way he smells disgusts me."

. . .

+.+.+

He did not understand. "My lord? I said—"

"—my lord, when you should have said m'lord. Your tongue betrays your birth with every word you say. If you want to sound a proper peasant, say it as if you had mud in your mouth, or were too stupid to realize it was two words, not just one."

Roose is bringing Theon to Barbrey Dustin. He will be introduced to Barbrey Dustin as Theon Greyjoy. Everyone knows he's Theon Greyjoy.

I don't understand why he has to use m'lord.

+.+.+

"I knew the first Reek. He stank, though not for want of washing. I have never known a cleaner creature, truth be told. He bathed thrice a day and wore flowers in his hair as if he were a maiden. Once, when my second wife was still alive, he was caught stealing scent from her bedchamber. I had him whipped for that, a dozen lashes. Even his blood smelled wrong. The next year he tried it again. This time he drank the perfume and almost died of it. It made no matter. The smell was something he was born with. A curse, the smallfolk said. The gods had made him stink so that men would know his soul was rotting. My old maester insisted it was a sign of sickness, yet the boy was otherwise as strong as a young bull. No one could stand to be near him, so he slept with the pigs … until the day that Ramsay's mother appeared at my gates to demand that I provide a servant for my bastard, who was growing up wild and unruly. I gave her Reek. It was meant to be amusing, but he and Ramsay became inseparable. I do wonder, though … was it Ramsay who corrupted Reek, or Reek Ramsay?"

Trimethylaminuria.

That moment you realize Ramsay keeps Theon smelly because he's being sentimental.

+.+.+

His lordship glanced at the new Reek with eyes as pale and strange as two white moons. "What was he whispering whilst he unchained you?"

"He … he said …" He said to tell you nothing. The words caught in his throat, and he began to cough and choke.

"Breathe deep. I know what he said. You're to spy on me and keep his secrets." Bolton chuckled. "As if he had secrets. Sour Alyn, Luton, Skinner, and the rest, where does he think they came from? Can he truly believe they are his men?"

I'm not sure why you would volunteer that information to someone you know is spying on you, but okay.

+.+.+

"Smitten?" Bolton laughed. "Did he use that word? Why, the boy has a singer's soul … though if you believe that song, you may well be dimmer than the first Reek. Even the riding part is wrong. I was hunting a fox along the Weeping Water when I chanced upon a mill and saw a young woman washing clothes in the stream. The old miller had gotten himself a new young wife, a girl not half his age. She was a tall, willowy creature, very healthy-looking. Long legs and small firm breasts, like two ripe plums. Pretty, in a common sort of way. The moment that I set eyes on her I wanted her. Such was my due. The maesters will tell you that King Jaehaerys abolished the lord's right to the first night to appease his shrewish queen, but where the old gods rule, old customs linger. The Umbers keep the first night too, deny it as they may. Certain of the mountain clans as well, and on Skagos … well, only heart trees ever see half of what they do on Skagos.

"This miller's marriage had been performed without my leave or knowledge. The man had cheated me. So I had him hanged, and claimed my rights beneath the tree where he was swaying. If truth be told, the wench was hardly worth the rope. The fox escaped as well, and on our way back to the Dreadfort my favorite courser came up lame, so all in all it was a dismal day.

where the old gods rule, old customs linger.

Like what? Blood sacrifice?

+.+.+

"The woman disobeyed me, though. You see what Ramsay is. She made him, her and Reek, always whispering in his ear about his rights. He should have been content to grind corn. Does he truly think that he can ever rule the north?"

He slipped! Get it together, Roose.

+.+.+

"He's not afraid of anyone, m'lord."

"He should be. Fear is what keeps a man alive in this world of treachery and deceit. Even here in Barrowton the crows are circling, waiting to feast upon our flesh. The Cerwyns and the Tallharts are not to be relied on, my fat friend Lord Wyman plots betrayal, and Whoresbane … the Umbers may seem simple, but they are not without a certain low cunning. Ramsay should fear them all, as I do. The next time you see him, tell him that."

All of these names go to Team Stark.

+.+.+

"He is your only son."

"For the moment. I had another, once. Domeric. A quiet boy, but most accomplished. He served four years as Lady Dustin's page, and three in the Vale as a squire to Lord Redfort. He played the high harp, read histories, and rode like the wind. Horses … the boy was mad for horses, Lady Dustin will tell you. Not even Lord Rickard's daughter could outrace him, and that one was half a horse herself. Redfort said he showed great promise in the lists. A great jouster must be a great horseman first."

I was not expecting to find more Knight of the Laughing Tree evidence in a Theon ADWD chapter.

+.+.+

"Ramsay killed him. A sickness of the bowels, Maester Uthor says, but I say poison. In the Vale, Domeric had enjoyed the company of Redfort's sons. He wanted a brother by his side, so he rode up the Weeping Water to seek my bastard out. I forbade it, but Domeric was a man grown and thought that he knew better than his father. Now his bones lie beneath the Dreadfort with the bones of his brothers, who died still in the cradle, and I am left with Ramsay. Tell me, my lord … if the kinslayer is accursed, what is a father to do when one son slays another?"

Anything other than whatever it is you're doing.

+.+.+

He could be wrong. Brothers die sometimes, it does not mean that they were killed. My brothers died, and I never killed them. 

Which brothers?

The old gods, he thought. They know me. They know my name. I was Theon of House Greyjoy. I was a ward of Eddard Stark, a friend and brother to his children. - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

+.+.+

"My lord has a new wife to give him sons."

"And won't my bastard love that? Lady Walda is a Frey, and she has a fertile feel to her. I have become oddly fond of my fat little wife. The two before her never made a sound in bed, but this one squeals and shudders. I find that quite endearing. If she pops out sons the way she pops in tarts, the Dreadfort will soon be overrun with Boltons. Ramsay will kill them all, of course. That's for the best. I will not live long enough to see new sons to manhood, and boy lords are the bane of any House. Walda will grieve to see them die, though."

He's lying to the spy. What's the point of marrying a fertile woman if you don't care if your sons survive?

Too bad he already goofed.

Does he truly think that he can ever rule the north?

+.+.+

"M'lord. If I might ask … why did you want me? I'm no use to anyone, I'm not even a man, I'm broken, and … the smell …"

. . .

+.+.+

"A bath and change of clothes will make you smell sweeter."

"A bath?" Reek felt a clenching in his guts. "I … I would sooner not, m'lord. Please. I have … wounds, I … and these clothes, Lord Ramsay gave them to me, he … he said that I was never to take them off, save at his command …"

"You are wearing rags," Lord Bolton said, quite patiently. "Filthy things, torn and stained and stinking of blood and urine. And thin. You must be cold. We'll put you in lambswool, soft and warm. Perhaps a fur-lined cloak. Would you like that?"

"No." He could not let them take the clothes Lord Ramsay gave him. He could not let them see him.

Why don't you want to be naked?

+.+.+

Some part of him was screaming, This is a trap, he is playing with you, the son is just the shadow of the father. Lord Ramsay played with his hopes all the time. "What … what do you owe me, m'lord?"

"The north. The Starks were done and doomed the night that you took Winterfell." He waved a pale hand, dismissive. "All this is only squabbling over spoils."

Thanks for that, Theon.

+.+.+

As he climbed a wide flight of wooden steps to the hall, Reek's legs began to shake. He had to stop to steady them, staring up at the grassy slopes of the Great Barrow. Some claimed it was the grave of the First King, who had led the First Men to Westeros. Others argued that it must be some King of the Giants who was buried there, to account for its size. A few had even been known to say it was no barrow, just a hill, but if so it was a lonely hill, for most of the barrowlands were flat and windswept.

Is this worldbuilding or important?

+.+.+

"He has been with Ramsay. Lady Barbrey, allow me to present the rightful Lord of the Iron Islands, Theon of House Greyjoy."

[...]

"What did your bastard do to him?"

"Removed some skin, I would imagine. A few small parts. Nothing too essential."

I wouldn't be too sure of that.

+.+.+

"Is he mad?"

"He may be. Does it matter?"

Reek could hear no more. "Please, m'lord, m'lady, there's been some mistake." He fell to his knees, trembling like a leaf in a winter storm, tears streaming down his ravaged cheeks. "I'm not him, I'm not the turncloak, he died at Winterfell. My name is Reek." He had to remember his name. "It rhymes with freak."

Seems like it.

Final thoughts:

TEAM HOUSE STARK

House Cerwyn & House Tallhart

The Cerwyns and the Tallharts are not to be relied on - Reek III, ADWD

House Glover

Lord Stannis has taken Deepwood Motte from the ironmen and restored it to House Glover. - Reek III, ADWD

First Flints, Wull, Norrey, Liddle, Burleys, Harclays, Knotts

"How many clans are you speaking of?"

"Two score, small and large. Flint, Wull, Norrey, Liddle … win Old Flint and Big Bucket, the rest will follow." - Jon IV, ADWD

House Locke

"The maid tells it true," declared a stocky man in white and purple, whose cloak was fastened with a pair of crossed bronze keys. "Roose Bolton's cold and cunning, aye, but a man can deal with Roose. We've all known worse. But this bastard son of his … they say he's mad and cruel, a monster." - Davos III, ADWD

x

Farther down the table Wyman Manderly sat wolfing down sausages and boiled eggs, whilst old Lord Locke beside him spooned gruel into his toothless mouth. - Theon I, ADWD

House Manderly

The north remembers, Lord Davos. The north remembers, and the mummer's farce is almost done.  - Davos IV, ADWD

House Mormont

Stannis read from the letter. "Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is STARK. A girl of ten, you say, and she presumes to scold her lawful king." - Jon I, ADWD

House Reed

We don't need evidence.

House Umber

"A fine plan if what you want is every hand in the north raised against you. Half is more than none. The Umbers have no love for the Boltons. If Whoresbane has joined the Bastard, it can only be because the Lannisters hold the Greatjon captive." - Jon IV, ADWD

x

The Cerwyns and the Tallharts are not to be relied on, my fat friend Lord Wyman plots betrayal, and Whoresbane … the Umbers may seem simple, but they are not without a certain low cunning. - Reek III, ADWD

Alys Karstark & House Thenn

TEAM HOUSE BOLTON

House Karstark

Because Arnolf Karstark awaits only a sign from Lord Bolton before he turns his cloak, thought Theon, as other lords began to shout out counsel. - The Prince of Winterfell, ADWD

House Ryswell

"The Ryswells and Dustins are tied to House Bolton by marriage," Jon informed him. - Jon IV, ADWD

House Hornwood

House Lannister

House Frey

X FACTOR

Queen in the North Barbrey Dustin of House Dustin

"Unlikely. And those boots would come dear. They would cost us Barrowton, House Dustin, and the Ryswells." Roose Bolton seated himself across the table from his son. "Barbrey Dustin is my second wife's younger sister, Rodrik Ryswell's daughter, sister to Roger, Rickard, and mine own namesake, Roose, cousin to the other Ryswells. She was fond of my late son and suspects you of having some part in his demise. Lady Barbrey is a woman who knows how to nurse a grievance. Be grateful for that. Barrowton is staunch for Bolton largely because she still holds Ned Stark to blame for her husband's death." - Reek III, ADWD

I will continue to update as we go.

Expect me to change my mind on Queen in the North Barbrey Dustin half a dozen times.

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