The Maiden and the Savage

III: The Wolf Bites Back

Sansa Stark

The cold northern winds blew strongly, ruffling up both of our hairs to the side, giving even more room for our eyes to meet each other. The crisp winds blew, working against the heat of my body and yet, the heat of his breath still lingered against the nape of my neck. My body shuddered and the paleness of my skin could not stop the faint rouge now creeping its way onto my cheeks. Whether my body responded to the cold's harsh bite against my skin or the words which he whispered to me, I was unsure of; but regardless, I managed to keep a calm expression on my face. 

Ramsay stared down at me with the wild, hungry glint of a predator looking down upon his prey. His smile held a lethal charm of it's own, yet it never reached his eyes. His demeanor proved to be inviting yet an uneasiness settled in the pit of my stomach the more I stared into the depths of his eyes - this man was not who he claims to be but nevertheless, the wickedly mysterious aspect of his beauty should soon reveal itself within time.

"So, shall we, my Lady?" he repeated again, this time with more of a gentle pinch to his voice, breaking me from my thoughts. His strikingly blue eyes bore down onto mine as he awaited my response. I was first reluctant to carry on alone with a man, but if I was to bring justice to my family name then this was the first step - I was to do far more things later on that would sooner or later, require me to abandon my lady-like courtesy.

"Of course. As you wish my Lord." I said, feigning complete obedience. I took a step forward and tucked my arm into his arm. I scoffed inwardly as I felt the warmth of his body radiate through the several layers of clothing he was wearing- his body was not made for the North. But still, I hated to admit that I felt a sense of security and comfort from the way the small frame of my arm was supported by his lean build.

The crowd slowly divided into two in order to allow us a pathway into the castle. I could feel the intensity of his alluring gaze still fastened on me but I did not meet his eyes on purpose - my eyes were too caught up noticing the somber atmosphere sweeping over the crowd. A melancholy silence hushed over each and every single soul. Pity and despair was etched in the eyes of both commoners and Lords upon meeting their eyes, and each of them bowed down as we passed. Resentment welled up within me towards the gods; for when they cursed death upon the Starks, they lead the North to it's downfall as well. The Boltons ruled over Winterfell with injustice, gaining no respect from the people - this much was said on the miserable faces of both the villagers and the Lords. 

As my eyes were scanning the crowd, my gaze fell upon a particular set of brown eyes. He looked to be no younger than I was, with a kind face that made him look out of place standing behind a line of Bolton knights who sported ruthless and insensitive frowns. I tried to ruffle through my memories to put a name to this young man's face, but it seems my brain only has a penchant for sparing the names and faces of those who had brought ruin upon my life. He must have been a good soul I suppose, for me to have forgotten him so easily. By the time I gave up trying to recall his identity he was gone, blended amidst the vast numbers of villagers and Lords gathered in the square. I tried to look around hoping to meet his kind eyes again, but all I saw were blurs of greys, greens, and blues.

"Has something caught your eye, my Lady?" Ramsay suddenly inquired with an overly curious tone that almost sounded sarcastic. "A handsome lad, I suppose? I hope I wouldn't have to fight for your attention. That wouldn't be...pleasant." A cold glint twinkled within his blue orbs when he turned his head to make sure I was looking at him. At last, he was beginning to show his true colors.

A shiver ran down through my spine once more although this time, I was certain that it was out of fear and not from the fierceness of the cold's winds; for I sensed the underlying threat under his words despite the humor with which he tried to mask it with.