Flayer

4.Ramsay

I brought the Stark child inside, calling for the servants to tell the kitchen it was time for supper. She looked around the half-burnt castle, drying the tears from her face.

And as she avoided looking at me, I couldn't get my eyes off of her. She was younger than me, I'd heard her age was eighteen. That made her five years younger than me. Her skin was rosy-pale and her hair as red as fresh blood. Her grey eyes were stormy and wandering, though currently red with sorrow, and she had several freckles on her nose and cheeks.

She was, smaller smaller than me. She was like a helpless little flower with a soul much too pure for my own. And she was afraid.

This girl is to be my wife, I reminded myself, and to make her obedient I must make her trust me... At least at first.

"Come with me," I insisted, putting my arm around her "You will share your parent's former chambers with me when we wed, but for now you will reside in the broken tower"

She swallowed her tears and replied "You are too kind, my lord"

"Ramsay, my love," I corrected, flashing her a smile "You may call me Ramsay...if I may call you Edda?"

Though I did not know exactly why, she still was afraid of me. And my acts of kindness only made everything worse. She stayed silent as I led her to the tower.

...

Edda did not want to go in. Quite simply she stood frozen at the door, looking up at a window above her. I had to almost push her inside.

"This whole tower had been changed to suit you. The first floor is your diner. The second, your library. The third the rooms of your two hand maidens. The fourth the chamber pot and bath. And the last is your own chambers, with a nice chimney in every room"

We went inside, and I walked her all the way to the fifth floor. "A fine, soft, big bed for our Stark heiress. Knittings and tapestries as well"

"Thank you, my lord-" she paused, correcting herself "Forgive me... Ramsay. You are too kind"

I smiled, getting on my knees. She gave me a confused look. Her eyes emulated hesitance and curiosity.

I placed my hands on her shaky wrists and cleared my throat "My sweet bride. Speak to me, what is troubling you? Is it me? Nostalgia? A servant? I can get rid of anyone who troubles you..."

She didn't answer, tightening her lips even. This made me angry, and my patience started to wear thin.

"Edda," I said, a little harshly this time, "I am to be your husband. I will never hurt you, I swear it. You'll be treated better than her grace the Queen, and respected more than the High Septon himself. As long as you listen to me, and do as I say, I will make you the happiest lady in all of Westeros. Do you understand?"

Her face softened, and she nodded. "Yes, Ramsay"

I smiled, planting a small peck on her lips before leaving her.