Fan Casting Roose Bolton in Literature

Eyes paler than stone, darker than milk, ghost grey, some men called the shade, but in truth his eyes were all but colorless, like two chips of dirty ice, small, close-set, and queerly pale. His face was clean-shaved, smooth-skinned, ordinary, not handsome but not quite plain. Though Roose had been in battles, he bore no scars. Though well past forty, he was as yet unwrinkled, with scarce a line to tell of the passage of time. His lips were so thin that when he pressed them together they seemed to vanish altogether, and his voice was spider soft. There was an agelessness about him, a stillness; on Roose Bolton’s face, rage and joy looked much the same.