A Need to Suffer

Illumination

Chapter Sixteen

Illumination

The next few hours saw to Ramsay tapping his fingers and staring heatedly at the parchment before him feeling both shamed by the fact he was having to work to come up with ideas of contrition for crimes he had felt vindicated committing and waiting for the inevitable return of the Stark bastard who would then judge his labors to inform Ramsay whether or not his endeavors were worthy enough to reduce, or if at all possible, eliminate a predetermined punishment to come. It was a good thing that he’d had a second quill as in his seething frustration, Ramsay had impulsively crushed his first quill with an irritated fist snapping the brittle implement easily. Realizing what he’d done, Ramsay carried the rage out further and violently threw the fragments onto the stone floor before calming and snatching up the second quill to continue his work.

One of the first suggestions he’d scrawled onto the page was the thought of using his archery skills to teach one of these ingrates the ability to hunt, of course the things that Myranda had taught him when it came to training hounds was invaluable, so he jotted this down as well. Upon rereading them to himself, Ramsay had realized that these two suggestions would likely only rile Jon further because he’d killed his brother with his archery and had threatened to feed Jon and his companions to his man-eating dogs, Ramsay quickly blotted them out. The last thing he wanted to do now was to upset Jon more than his procrastination already had. He wanted to work his way out of getting disciplined rather than earning himself more of Jon’s annoyance. Ramsay was more than sure any half-assed attempts as a note to give either sibling lip service would also be met with punishment, so Ramsay sighed, irritably folding his arms to rest his chin on them, as he began to seriously ponder what he could actually offer those he’d hurt to make a real attempt to compensate them.

Ramsay didn’t really have much in the ways of skills to offer; his father, Roose had given his mother enough protection to keep her mill and fend off her dead husband’s brother’s greedy attempts to take it from her (earning the man a cut off tongue for his troubles to ensure Roose’s help was not disclosed), and his mother’s servants tended the fields in order to live on her acquired lands leaving Ramsay to traipse about with Reek doing as he pleased until he’d come to live at the Dreadfort.

His half-brother, Domeric had been trained to do so many things that Ramsay wasn’t good at. Ramsay had envied him so much; Domeric had everything given to him, the training of a knight, riding lessons to make him a master horse rider, a noble’s education, an heir to all the Bolton lands, and most of all their father’s approving eye. Even after Ramsay had had Reek slip the drought of herbs he’d taken from the Maester’s quarters, meant to poison vermin, into Domeric’s food, and his brother had fallen ill and eventually breathed his last breath leaving Ramsay as Roose’s only living heir, Roose still would only regard Ramsay with no more than a cold disdain.

Roose had never accused Ramsay of being responsible for Domeric’s death (he couldn’t prove it), but Ramsay was almost positive that his father had known what he’d done and perhaps blamed himself for allowing Domeric to talk him into bringing Ramsay to the Dreadfort to begin with. Either way, Ramsay had been his only living heir after so many other attempts prior to Domeric had led to a still born or death before the babe had ever left the cradle. No, Ramsay would have to do if Roose were to leave any legacy at all, even a tainted one with blood so bad that leeching did nothing to stave off the growing depravity that lurked within the bastard of Bolton. Ramsay hadn’t cared though because he was heir to the Bolton estate, and he was just happy to be his father’s only son now.

Ramsay had felt nothing for Domeric back then other than animosity for taking everything from Ramsay that he’d felt he’d always deserved, but now, as his thoughts drifted over his past to try and ferret out what he could actually offer to do for others, some small part of him realized that his brother might have actually wanted him for more than just an entourage piece. Domeric had spoken of him being his squire which only spoke to Ramsay as being Domeric’s servant as a second son; Ramsay was tired of being second best.