Game of Thrones - One Shots

Ramsay Bolton - Naughty Dog

Some people will say training is the most important part of working with dogs, others will tell you that there is nothing more crucial than taking care of them, petting the animal; truth is, none of these persons are right... However, feeding them is imperative. How do you want a dog to concentrate on its training if it hasn't been fed? How can you expect a dog to accept your love with an empty stomach? Out of all the activities you could possibly set your mind to, feeding the dogs was your favourite; because no dog will ever betray its feeder if it wants to live. Since you had met Ramsay Snow, your passion for the canines had only grown! And so did the one you felt for the bastard...

Today was no different, you had woken up pretty early and went to the kitchens to get some meat for the dogs; as you were a resident of the castle Ramsay lived in, the access to the kitchen was authorised to you in the morning, and anybody who would prevent you from doing so would have to face your friend's wrath... Once you arrived at the kennels, you opened the gates -with difficulty as one hand was holding the buckett full of fresh food, which was pretty heavy. As you entered, you could hear the dogs waking up to the sent of their meal, not one of them barked as they were used to your early visits. You gave all the dogs a large and juicy piece of meat and petted them, one by one. When you stood before the last cage, you knew something was wrong. New dogs always had one of two different reactions, or they wagged their tails to the sent of food, or they barked at you, a stranger. Although it usually was the former -as the dogs were basically trained before being transported here- both had happened to you and there was nothing very shocking about this. What was, indeed, strange, was that the last dog you had to feed was not wagging its tail nor was it growling at you. It was still dark outside and you couldn't see the dog properly, maybe its former owner had cut its tail -after all, you had seen many injured animals in the past. You crouched and looked into the beast's eyes only to be met with fury. You stood up and fetched meat in the buckett, you threw it into the cage, not wanting your hand to get too close to the animal's mouth but the dog got a hold of you anyway. Ramsay who was walking by heard your scream of pain, followed by the sound of the iron container smashing on the floor. He ran to your side and, when he saw the dog's fangs buried into your lower right arm, he rapidly punched the monster on its snout who did let go of your arm, going to the back of its cage, wincing in soreness.

"Oh gods! (Y/N), let me take a look at your arm." You holded out your injured limb to him who inspected it as quickly as he could due to the lack of lightening.

"Ho-How b-bad is it-t?" You stuttered out, breathing shakily. Ramsay's head shot up, worry still written on his features but greatly lessened.

"You will be fine if the wound is being taken care of right now." He spoke urgently, "Go back to your room, I'll send an healer." He held you in his arms and took your head in his hands, kissing your soft hair. "Now go."

"W-what about y-you?" Ramsay shook his head while laughing; the deep sound of his low chuckle instantly lessened the sharp burn that you could feel where the dog's fangs had been imprinted.

"Somebody has to take care of this naughty boy, doesn't he?" He replied, a grin you knew so well the meaning of plastered on his face.

*~Time Skip~*

A silk bandage was wrapped around your arm tightly; you were trying to brush your hair but your aching muscles made it hard for you to clutch the brush. Once you felt like it was good enough you put it back on your dresser and began reading a book. You were a couple chapters in when a knock on your door interrupted your reading. As much as you hated when people made you come back to reality abruptly, the sight of Ramsay at the doorway made you put your book aside so fast, it was as if it had not been your hands at all. Although, the bastard had noticed the book.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, My Lady." Even though you weren't a high-born, he loved when he heard you call him 'Lord' the first you met so he thought it was only good manners to call you that. "But I have a gift for you." His smile stretched a bit and he stepped aside, letting two men from the kitchens enter, holding a silver plate with a hood hiding the gift. You got up and walked to the tray, glancing at Ramsay whose expecting eyes looked at your gift, and back at you; he seemed as excited as a little kid on their name day. You placed your hand on the handle of the hood, using your safe arm, and lifted it to reveal the head of the dog who had bitten you. You held back the urge to regurgitate your breakfast and smiled at Ramsay who looked like the happiest person alive; then he chased the servants. Once only the two of you were left in the room, you jumped into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you for being there for me Ramsay." You whispered in his hear, playing with the hair at the back of his neck. He pulled back and kissed your cheek.

"Anything for My Lady." He said just a little bit louder than you, gazing lovingly into your eyes. You both leaned in and your lips were soon enough attached in a pleasing embrace.