A Need to Suffer

Unveil

Yay! I made it in time for a season 7 encore! Hope you enjoy the new chapter, and as always, if you like what you're reading, drop me a comment to let me know! =D

Audio Chapter:

https://app.box.com/s/3ynzfr2eau0e0qeojc8hdglxx4qjnvck

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Unveil

Ramsay's head bobbed up and down atop Sansa's rising chest. She'd fallen asleep some time ago far more exhausted from her day than Ramsay had been. Propped upon her heaving breast, Ramsay could see over the footboard of the bed and watched the once raging fire dwindle into softly glowing embers. The rest of the keep had long since fallen asleep, but slumber eluded Ramsay as thoughts of all that he and Sansa had been through in the space of one night populated his mind. Ramsay ruminated now on how completely shell-shocked at every turn he felt, so much between them had changed in such a short amount of time. It was staggering to digest the contrast of what their relationship had been to what it had become, but as confused as he was by the rapidity of what was happening to and with him, Ramsay knew that he welcomed the transformation.

Life was getting better for him Ramsay had to admit, even if there were still many aspects of Sansa's choices concerning him that he wasn't very fond of. What Sansa did give him offered more of a connection with another person than he'd ever had in many respects, so it was easier to look past the other not-so-pleasant facets and be happy enough for the good tidings he received. Ramsay still couldn't help but silently hope that Sansa would continue to give him more freedoms soon though as living under such stricture was suffocating to his wanderlust nature to roam and his predilections to be free to do as he pleased. As it was though, he was content to be resting in Sansa's embrace while she slept knowing how much she had grown to trust him. Thinking on these sentiments filled him with an inward glow of bliss, and Ramsay found himself reflexively squeezing Sansa needing affirmation that this shared moment was in fact real. Sansa made him feel complete in a way Ramsay had never fathomed was possible, and he was grateful that he could be so lucky as to have found forgiveness and a second chance from her. He wanted to make Sansa proud of him; it was the last thing his thoughts correlated before Ramsay's reflections began to drift into a haze of serenity to eventually succumb to the folds of unconsciousness that incessantly ebbed at his waking mind.

***…***

Tormund took a deep pull on his mug settling back in his chair as he shook his head in obvious disbelief, "You Starks," he let go a humorless laugh, "With your sister requesting I carve a wooden cock for her," his broad grin spread to encompass a lecherous nod, "I get why she's keeping him around!" Tormund's mood shifted to a state of confusion as he continued, "But you, I half expected you'd have sent the cocky prick's head rolling from his shoulders by the time we'd returned. I sure as fuck didn't see you asking me to keep my people from taking a go at him." Glancing at the seriousness held in Jon's expression, the burly man shrugged nonchalantly, "I can tell them he's off limits, but I can't say they'll take much heed to the warning; you know well that we freefolk don't follow the same codes you tart-arses do."

Jon's countenance remained severe as he responded with concern lacing his words, "That's not good enough; I need more reassurance from you." Out of all the people in his keep, the Wildling army was in no way under Jon's command, and with the hostilities he'd witnessed just from the walk he and Ramsay had gone on, Jon felt it was best to address the matter sooner rather than later.

Tormund sighed in annoyance waving dismissively at Jon's worry, "Alright; for you and your sister's sake, I'll express a personal interest that the little shit comes to no harm. From what goes around the campfires, most are satisfied the cunt's getting somewhat what he had coming to him for his worthless threats," The grizzly man's countenance shifted revealing a jovial smirk in Jon's direction as he rose from the hearth with a swagger that denoted weariness, "For those not happy about it, I reckon they can be convinced one way or another." Not waiting for a response, Tormund saluted a farewell toast with his mug before turning to lumber back out into the courtyard where most of the Wildlings had taken up residence in the Stark keep.