[SOVEREIGN BOND ACCOMPLISHED]
Objective: Seal the Sovereign Bond with 'Roslin Frey'.
Status: COMPLETE.
Bond Established: Level 1 (Roslin Frey).
Affection/Loyalty: 82/100 (Submission).
Effect: Genetic Siphon Initiated—Frey bloodline successfully harvested.
[REWARDS GRANTED]
Monarch Point Gain: +3,000 MP.
Reward: Necklace of Vigor, Summoning Options +, Disharmony Gauntlet
Current Balance: 7,674 MP.
[4,782 points before, after spending 108 points on rations, lubricant, cleaning, and bedding, and then adding 3,000 points at the end, final total is 7,674 MP.]
...
The first light of dawn wasn't gold or bright. It was a heavy, bruised violet that faded into a flat, cold grey. The wind had died down to a low whistle, cutting through the cracks in the stone.
Alaric's eyes snapped open. He hadn't woken up naturally; it was a sound that did it. The sound of someone crying.
He sat up slowly and looked over. There was Roslin. She was huddled against the stone, wrapped in his massive cloak. It was far too big for her, making her look even smaller. Her face was buried in her knees, her shoulders shaking.
Alaric watched her for a moment. In the corner of his vision, the gold-rimmed System notification for his successful "bond" still flickered like a dying ember. The System was good at numbers, but it didn't account for the sound of a girl's spirit breaking.
The sobbing was muffled by the thick wool. To Alaric, she looked like a discarded doll. Even the clean scent of lavender from the System felt wrong out here.
Alaric stood up, his joints popping in the freezing air. Sensing him move, the two black wolves emerged from the trees. Rivy walked over first, her head low. She sniffed the air near Roslin and let out a soft, huffing breath.
Roslin's head snapped up. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, her pale face streaked with tears. When she saw Alaric, terror flashed in her eyes for a second before being replaced by a hollow, empty look of defeat.
"My Lord," she whispered, her voice cracking. She tried to stand, but her legs shook so hard she almost fell back into the dirt. She gripped the cloak tight around her neck, her knuckles white. "I... I didn't mean to wake you. I'm sorry."
Alaric walked through the grey light, his boots silent on the frosted ground. He saw her shrink away, trying to disappear into the oversized furs. The "Perfect Lady" of the Twins was gone. In her place was a girl who felt she had lost the only thing she ever owned: her innocence.
He reached her side and sat down on the cold stone. He stayed close enough for her to feel his warmth, but he didn't look at her yet. He just watched the mist rolling over the trees.
"Roslin," he said. His voice wasn't a command this time. It was just a low, steady rasp.
She flinched at her name, choking back a sob.
"I took something from you last night," Alaric said, staring at the horizon. "I didn't ask. I wasn't gentle, and I didn't care about your station. I wanted something, and I took it."
Roslin stayed frozen, her face still buried in her knees. Hearing those words from him—a man who commanded monsters and lived like a shadow of death—felt impossible. She didn't know how to handle a predator showing a heart.
Alaric slowly reached out, his palm facing up. "We've crossed a line we can't go back over. To the rest of the world, you aren't a daughter of the Twins anymore. But to me..." He paused, his dark eyes finally finding hers.
"Since we've already shared a bed, I won't have you living as a prize or a servant. Stay with me. Not as a girl I saved, but as my partner. And when the time comes... as my wife."
The silence that followed was heavy. Roslin slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were red and wide with a shock so deep it seemed to stop her heart. The tears didn't stop; they came faster, spilling over in a fresh wave.
"Did I say something wrong?" Alaric asked, his brow furrowing. He was genuinely confused. The System showed her loyalty at 82%, but it hadn't prepared him for this kind of breakdown.
Roslin didn't use words. With a choked, desperate cry, she threw herself at him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close with a strength that actually surprised him. She buried her face in his shoulder, her entire body shaking with violent sobs.
"I thought..." she wailed, the words tumbling out in a frantic, broken mess. "I thought I was just... a thing to you. I thought once we got to Winterfell, you'd just leave me at the gates. I thought you'd throw me away because I'm a Frey... because I'm ruined now..."
She clung to him like he was the only thing keeping her from drowning, her fingers digging into his leather gear. "I've been sitting here for hours... thinking you only took me to use me. I thought I'd be left alone in the snow the second you got bored of me."
Alaric's face softened. A rare look of real empathy touched his hard features. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her small, shivering body firmly against his chest. He could feel her tears soaking into his clothes, but for the first time, he didn't mind the mess.
Alaric didn't offer a flurry of words or hollow promises. Instead, he let his actions ground her. He moved his hand in slow, steady circles against the small of her back, his palm pressing through the heavy wool of the cloak. The simple, repetitive motion seemed to pull her back from the edge of her panic.
He leaned down, tilting her face up just enough to press a soft kiss to her forehead. There was no demand in it this time—just a silent seal on the vow he had made.
Gradually, the shaking slowed down. Her jagged sobs turned into long, shaky breaths until she finally went limp against him. She didn't pull away. She stayed draped over him, her head on his shoulder and her arms locked around his neck as if letting go would mean falling back into the dark.
The silence of the clearing returned, except for the sound of the morning frost melting under the rising sun. Alaric felt her heart rate finally start to level out.
"Better?" he asked quietly.
Roslin gave a tiny, muffled nod against his neck. Her grip loosened just a bit, but she stayed tucked firmly against his side.
"You need your strength," Alaric said, his voice low and steady. "Would you like to eat? The... silver-wrapped thing?"
Roslin pulled back slightly. Her eyes were still red and puffy, but a flicker of life returned to her face at the mention of the treat. She gave a more definite nod, letting out one last sniffle.
Alaric reached into his jerkin, the System's inventory flashing in his mind. This time, he didn't just bring out one. With a faint, unseen shimmer, he pulled out three of the high-calorie chocolate bars.
He pressed them into her small hands. Seeing the three silver packages—more luxury than she'd seen since leaving the Twins—brought a fragile light to her face. For a girl who had spent hours thinking she was just a discarded scrap of silk, this extra bit of kindness felt like a huge gesture.
"Three?" she whispered, her voice still thick from crying.
"I told you," Alaric muttered, pulling her securely under his arm so her head rested on his shoulder. "You aren't a fugitive anymore. You're with me."
Roslin settled into him. Between the enchanted heat of the blanket and the man beside her, the world finally felt solid again.
She started to open the first wrapper, her fingers much steadier now. As the sweetness hit her tongue, she let out a long, contented sigh, leaning all her weight into Alaric while the two wolves watched over them in the morning light.
///
Point Update
Current Balance: 7,524MP
[Roslin Frey]