#erva

“To state it plainly, the Bolton girl was unsettling. Her dull eyes were coloured the same as a gloomy morning in the North, underlined with pronounced bags. Just as like, being looked at by her would elicit a chill as strong as the everpresent winds that swirled around the Dreadfort. Her sickly-toned skin provided strong contrast to the black waves of her hair, and greater shadows highlighted her narrow, hooked nose and small, tensed lips that constantly appeared a flushed red, as though stained by blood. Favoring dark, moody tones of reds, blacks and grays, she dressed in the customary layers of the Northern climate, although she often bared more skin than other women of the region, seemingly unphased by the biting cold. Standing alongside her father, their height disparity was apparent, although none would dare to mention it. She stood several inches higher, and would often stand to his rear to mitigate the difference, though would never do the same for anyone else. Eerily still and ever observant, many would say that to stand before Erva Bolton was to stand before uncertainty and unease, as her face and disposition gave no indication of what was to come. It was said that she unequivocally held her father’s favor after the death of her brother Domeric, often being called the “Lady Leech,” something she held smugly over the head of her half-brother, Ramsay. As maesters tell it, Roose was largely indifferent to his daughter in her early life, though his interest had been peaked when he found her skillfully skinning a large elk in the frosted grass outside of the Dreadfort, no older than one-and-ten, humming to herself. She would turn to face her father, having heard his heavy steps on the hardened ground, and as she looked up at him, her face remained entirely blank, eyes appearing nearly lifeless, though her indifference gave way to a slight upturn of the right corner of her lips. The story goes that from then on, Roose became much more intentional in guiding Erva in the ways of House Bolton, seeing that she possessed more of his traits than her brother Domeric, grooming her to take the lordship should he be unable. After the discovery of her bastard brother, Roose would find it a great deal more complicated as the bastard represented much of the same as Erva, and had the benefit of being a male, but the lord believed that eventually, the children would determine their succession themselves, even if it meant killing each other. An ugly, grim man whose appearance matched his character, Ramsay held a strong, yet unspoken hatred towards Erva, as he saw in her not an equal, but a superior. She was not only just as capable of the Bolton brand of cruelty as he was, but more cunning and respectable, which made her all the better to play the game of thrones that would come to reach all the way to the Dreadfort in which they stayed as wars raged on. Although many found her intimidating, they revered her in equal parts, which could not be said for Ramsay, who was often so reckless and outwardly fearless that Roose believed it would prevent him from ruling House Bolton. Erva never openly contested Ramsay’s intention to inherit the lordship, but those who would find themselves in the company of the family would remark that whenever Ramsay spoke of his future as a lord, Erva would be seen seemingly stifling a laugh as she exchanged glances with her father, which would never fail to elicit a tantrum from her young, bastard-born brother.”