WELL FLAYED [Game Of Thrones: The Boltons]

4. In The Serpent's Eyes

THERE WAS A TIME WHEN Lady Nisha was the shining sun to Ramsay Snow. Her radiance, her beauty, her warmth were such an ecstatic concoction he found addicting. She was his sunflower, always turning towards him, always drawing him in with her bright and irresistible grace.

He longed for her, yearned for her, until such time when he finally got his hands on her - gripping her, capturing her, leashing her. In all honesty, he eventually became bored to all of it: her kindness, her gentleness, her purity, her naiveness. The only thing that had kept him going was the urge to break her good girl facade for his own amusement, and then perhaps throw her to his hounds when he's done with her. It had always been like that to Ramsay - a routine, or a cycle, or a bad habit he couldn't get rid of. He seized women he fancied, and when the thrill died after the chase, so would the woman. There was no permanence when it came to him; his mind was unpredictable and twisted that way.

Although, just when he thought he'd kill Nisha after giving birth, or even after their child's death, she proved herself worthy of his fancy again when she made a bloody show in the great hall. He couldn't admit it outloud, but her creativeness to something brutal impressed him. Her bloodthirst was natural - a capable killer might he add; and with a proper guidance she'd have her true potential, something that kept the Boltons' reputation alive: being a Bane of the North. She was a Southerner, but she proved herself worthy to be one of them, and Ramsay couldn't agree more. All that he wanted now was to see her by his side - flourishing.

Ramsay glanced at Nisha's sleeping naked form close to him. They were lying on his fur cloak on the floor before the altar of their dead child. Their daughter was resting peacefully in her golden urn, while her mother was being haunted with nightmares in her sleep. It was apparent on Nisha's face that the demons of her past still disturbed her, making her unable to move on; and this left Ramsay Snow derailed.

If only he could slay all her demons and flay them into nothing but bones, then maybe the gods would be challenged not to curse her any further with predicaments.

No one should play with her demise, not even the gods themselves... except him.

"There's only me." He silently whispered, then lightly traced her lips. "...and you."

His soft touch awakened her. Nisha's lashes batted as she opened her eyes slowly. It showed fully the brownness of her orbs. However, it beheld a certain sting. "What are you doing, so close to me??"

"I have no idea." Ramsay blinked back, masking innocence. "We were just talking last night and sharing insults. And now we're naked together? Good gods, what happened?"

Nisha pulled herself up to sit, moving away from his caress on the floor. "Shut up. I don't have the time for your sardonic retorts. It's early morn. I have duties to attend to." Then, she started to get dressed.

"Must you be so bitter in the morning?" Ramsay smiled mischievously as he lied on his elbows, revealing his naked robust torso. "Come lie with me a little longer. Castle duties can wait."

"My time with you has expired, Lord Snow. Perhaps your whores can see to it?"

"My whores?" He was incredulous.

"Don't feign surprise, my lord. It's not a secret that you warm your bed with harlots in my absence. I am not one of them, so my time doesn't exceed with that degradation."

"To think that spending time with me is a degradation..." He shook his head in disbelief. "Why do you think so lowly of your husband?"

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Why are you talking to me like you care? Do not act like you didn't choke me near to death, kill my owl, torture my friend, and drown me while I was with child."