Chapter Text
“This is the Dreadfort, isn’t it?” Lot twelve blinked blearily at the walls that surrounded them, cinderblocks painted with a thick white coating. He laughed an incredulous sort of laugh and shook his head.
Roose didn’t care for the boy speaking out of turn, but since it was likely his last opportunity to do so without punishment, he let it slide. “This is a training facility. It has no name.”
The slaves and some of the trainers called it the Dreadfort, some curious little nickname they invented all on their own, for as long as Roose could remember. He didn’t mind the term. If it struck dread into the hearts of raw slaves, that was just fine with him. He made little attempt to divest the training facility of the reputation.
“My owners used to threaten to send me to this place,” lot twelve said. “When I was bad. They told me they’d send me here, and now here I am.”
Roose lifted his head from the papers before him, surveying lot twelve for a moment. Both he and Theon Greyjoy were standing before his desk. They had been hooded for the lengthy ride from the Greatjon’s kennels to their new homes, and both of them had messy hair from the black hoods.
Roose himself had taken their collars off, so they were utterly naked. Lot twelve wore his nudity proudly. Theon, less so. He was supposed to be standing with his arms behind his back but instead he was covering himself casually as if Roose would not notice.
“It’s a shame they didn’t send you to me,” Roose said softly, turning his attention to lot twelve and away from Theon’s poor posture. “I’d have treated you better than they did.” He lifted the paper he’d been working on from the desk and held it out. “Go and take this to the trainer outside and tell him that these are your orders.”
Lot twelve reached out and took the paper. He didn’t bother to glance at it. Roose expected he could not read. The slave hesitated and considered speaking again, but the look on Roose’s face gave him the inclination not to so he turned and walked away. He left the office, closing the door behind him as he went.
Chapter Text“This is the Dreadfort, isn’t it?” Lot twelve blinked blearily at the walls that surrounded them, cinderblocks painted with a thick white coating. He laughed an incredulous sort of laugh and shook his head.Roose didn’t care for the boy speaking out of turn, but since it was likely his last opportunity to do so without punishment, he let it slide. “This is a training facility. It has no name.”The slaves and some of the trainers called it the Dreadfort, some curious little nickname they invented all on their own, for as long as Roose could remember. He didn’t mind the term. If it struck dread into the hearts of raw slaves, that was just fine with him. He made little attempt to divest the training facility of the reputation.“My owners used to threaten to send me to this place,” lot twelve said. “When I was bad. They told me they’d send me here, and now here I am.”Roose lifted his head from the papers before him, surveying lot twelve for a moment. Both he and Theon Greyjoy were standing before his desk. They had been hooded for the lengthy ride from the Greatjon’s kennels to their new homes, and both of them had messy hair from the black hoods.Roose himself had taken their collars off, so they were utterly naked. Lot twelve wore his nudity proudly. Theon, less so. He was supposed to be standing with his arms behind his back but instead he was covering himself casually as if Roose would not notice.“It’s a shame they didn’t send you to me,” Roose said softly, turning his attention to lot twelve and away from Theon’s poor posture. “I’d have treated you better than they did.” He lifted the paper he’d been working on from the desk and held it out. “Go and take this to the trainer outside and tell him that these are your orders.”Lot twelve reached out and took the paper. He didn’t bother to glance at it. Roose expected he could not read. The slave hesitated and considered speaking again, but the look on Roose’s face gave him the inclination not to so he turned and walked away. He left the office, closing the door behind him as he went.
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