WELL FLAYED [Game Of Thrones: The Boltons]

15. Eating For Two

RAMSAY SNOW RETURNED TO DREADFORT with the Trigon Brothers after his hunting expedition in the White Knife forest.

They hunted a young woman named Raena whom they discreetly captured from one of the brothels of Wintertown. Ramsay was about to practice the banned Bolton tradition which was flaying, but decided to hunt for an antelope to devour first. By doing so, Ramsay didn't expect that he would stumble upon the royal guards and the young prince of King's Landing himself.

Ramsay was entertained as the young prince struggled with his demons in his head when he tempted him to do some atrocious acts - the shooting of the whore.

Joffrey was too young to witness such gore, but Ramsay knew, he opened something in the prince's mind that would soon change him. He could see how the prince's eyes gleamed when he saw the first drop of blood. Ramsay knew that look. He had known it since his first kill when he was seven.

Elated that he had influence his greatness to the prince himself, Ramsay hummed a cheerful song all the way to his chamber. Although, he hesitated to come in once a pungent scent caressed his senses when he opened the door. It smelled of rotten iron, something he usually smelled in the dungeon.

Though, he didn't need to try to look where it came from. His bed presented all the answers. There on the blood soaked cushion, was the head of his biggest hound - Kaos. Its neck covered in black fur was cut clean, revealing a huge hole that led up to its jaws. Its long tongue was hanging by the side of its mouth, while its blank obsidian eyes glared at him.

Kaos had always been Ramsay's favorite. He nursed the motherless pup with the milky teats of his maidservants, and made sure it would eat carcasses of plump people when it grew up - and Kaos grew up to be strong and big, a size that could almost equal a direwolf.

Ramsay saw Kaos as his kin, and whoever killed Kaos would need the gods' mercy, because he would not give one.

Although, he didn't have to search thoroughly who had done it. He already knew who it was.

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LADY NISHA WAS HOLDING MIR'S FEATHER while she sat on her vanity table. She missed dearly her owl that was like a child to her. All that she could remember her by was her single silvery white feather plucked from her wing before Violet buried her in the godswood.

Mir did not deserve her tragic fate. Ramsay's senseless killing just to keep her inside his walls was unreasonable. He was making it easy for her to abandon her remaining love for him and form a blade-gripping grudge.

The door of her quarters suddenly burst open, and the one that she dreaded the most emerged. She turned from the mirror of her vanity table to face him, brown eyes were challenging and unwavering.

"Husband? Did you finally miss me?"

Ramsay did not say anything. He trudged toward her, then gripped her collar, and pulled her up. He stared into her, almost digging graves through his icy eyes, and then... his huge hand made contact with her rosy cheek.

Lady Nisha was thrown to the ground, her gray dress gracefully waved with gravity. She then looked up at him, her hand comforting the stinging pain she felt on her flesh. But she did not see any remorse from him.

Ramsay bent down then straddled her. His hands now came for her neck. He gripped her there, choking her, until her veins slowly became visible, and her eyes formed tears, and skin turned purple.

She felt deja vu under his violent touch. All her memory from her wedding night came flooding back to her, waking up old traumas and old wounds. 

At that same position on the ground, she thought she saw death, but it was just Ramsay Snow.