You kick the long, tattered edges of your onyx dress as you walk along the dimly lit path, covered in snow. The wet and heavy ends of your dress slightly weigh the dress down, causing you to aggressively push the material forward with your feet in order to move at a decent pace, which you need to do immediately. You swing your basket back and forth.
The moon is full and bright enough to guide you in a general path, but with darkness comes terrible things. Wolves. Thieves. Worse.
You were sent by your innkeeper to retrieve more cloves from a local herb dealer, but it took longer than you anticipated, thus the darkness now encompassing your figure. You know you shouldn't be out here, alone, especially as a woman, but you had no choice. The herb dealer was sketchy as it was, and it was more of a risk to stay than head out. You have no money, and you refuse to sleep with some patron or owner of an inn or bar to earn yourself a roof to sleep under. You must go back to your inn, where the cruel man who owns it will at least give you a space to sleep. Maybe not if you make this delivery late.
You hear a cracking of a stick which draws your attention. You quickly jerk your head in the direction it came from only to see a young man holding a sword in his hand. It is fancy and slightly jagged, glistening in the moonlight. He has a scar on his face, roughly tracing the outline of his left cheekbone. He wears all black, has black hair, and an evil look on his face. You recognize his face, unfortunately, from a wanted poster posted in the inn. He's Vol Morton, a leader of a band of robbers and murderers that came from the Bolton's service and hunt anything for sport. He's even wearing his flayed man sigil. They kill for anything. You immediately drop your wicker basket as you are struck with fear, and watch as your brown clove buds scatter across the snow.
You begin to move your feet backwards and slightly take small steps back before a sinister voice behind you taunts, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
You turn quickly to see a red headed man in all black with a bow and arrow about three feet away from you, the tip of the arrow aimed directly at your quickly beating heart. Behind him stands two men, both with brown hair and plain faces. They also hold swords out towards you. A woman with dark, kinky black hair and a sadistic smiles strides forward confidently with a small knife in her hand, gently twirling it between her fingers in play. You've seen her before on a wanted poster as well, Bella Tricston, Vol's partner in crime and in love. She likes to torture people before she kills them.
You unintentionally gulp loudly as you asses the situation at hand. You have no money, no weapon, and no help.
The woman makes a mocking tick noise with her mouth as she feigns an apologetic and pitiful look. She takes small steps as she circled around you, analyzing you like prey. You shiver under her heavy scrutiny and constantly keep your eyes locked on her location.
"Darling, how old are you?" She sweetly asks, her voice filled with a false motherly touch.
At first you do not answer, refusing to play into their little game. You shake, partly from the cold as well as your fear.
"We aren't going to hurt you..." the woman coos as she approaches you and gently caresses your partly exposed clavicle as you turn away. "Now, how old are you?"
"Twenty." You answer with your face to the ground, eyes trained on the snow beneath you.
"There... you see? That wasn't so bad was it?" She softly murmured, this time moving her hand to touch a loose strand of hair by your cheek. "Why are you so frightened, love?"
"It's frightening to travel alone... and you scared me..." you softly whisper, your breath coming out in short rasps forming fog from your breath.
"I do suppose we did surprise you, didn't we?" The black haired man approached the woman and he skimmed his arm around her waist.
You try your best to put on a friendly smile and giggle softly. "Well, no harm done! Now if you will excuse me, I must be get-"
Just as you are about to take a step around the pair, the man holds his sword up in front of your face, merely an inch from you.
"Now, what did we say about trying to move away from us?" The man chimed as a smile grew on his face.
"I... I thought you were letting me go home..." you stumble over your words with both confusion and terror.
"Now, why would be let some little girl tell the whole town that we're here?" The woman happily chimed in.
"I'm sorry, what? I'm confused. Who are you?" You attempt to act confused, but they don't buy it.
"Please, we've seen the signs plastered around this shithole little town, don't you dare try and take us for idiots." The man interrupts your facade angrily.
You're caught.
"I won't... I won't tell anyone..." you whisper sheepishly, looking to them in desperation as they all laugh.
"Darling, you really think we believe that?" The woman says as she twirls her knife in her hand.
You look from the man to the woman once before you try to bust out running again, only to feel a strong set of arms quickly wrap around you as you kick and scream in fear while the man and woman walk to face you once again.
"Bring her down, I can't play with her when she's that high up!" The girl practically sings as she plays with her knife.
"What do you think? Tie her to a tree so she won't struggle? Tie her up on the ground?" The man holding you asks.
"Hmmmmmm, what about tying her hands together and stringing them up there!" The woman nods over to a large oak tree dusted in snow a few feet away.
"Darling, your ideas are phenomenal." The man praises as he begins to kiss the woman deeply while the red headed man holds you tightly as the other men tie your hand in front of you and throw the rope over an ice covered branch. You can feel your arms suddenly being jerked out of your control and forwards as you are dragged towards the tree. The quick movement throws you off balance and causes you to trip, tumbling forward into a bank of snow, your already freezing clothes becoming soaked with the cold wetness on the ground, partly a muddy sludge at your feet. Your face is now a bright red from hitting the freezing ground, and you can feel your lip bleeding as you whimper. It now is starting to flurry relentlessly, heavy snowflakes biting at your cheeks and exposed skin. You release a low grunt as you can feel your body being dragged as the three men pull the rope, sending you flying across the ground. You sniffle gently, trying not to cry at the pain of your body being tossed around purposefully and your imminent death, a painful one at that.
You finally release a sob of pain as your body is lifted into the air completely, your arms held above your head by the rope while your small body dangles slightly above the ground. You swing gently, twirling ungracefully as you try to loosen the ropes or escape, causing them to laugh.
"She's ready for you both!" The red haired man calls out.
Your body turns and you look to see them smiling as they approach you, the woman clearly eager to continue her work on a fresh canvas.
"This one's pretty... such a waste..." the woman coos as she brings her hand to caress your soft face. You turn your head away quickly and she laughs.
"Well, she's a feisty one, that's going to be fun at least." The man says as he brings his hand to touch the outline of your chest, caressing the soft lace outline of your corset and attempting to dip his hand inside.
That's it.
Before you can think twice about what you're doing, your foot is deeply rooted in his most precious place, causing him to whine and fall to his knees.
The woman looks to him in shock and then you feel your cheek burn as she lands a slap to your face. You jerk your head to the side from the force, and feel more blood spill from your already bleeding lip. Now, your nose is bleeding as well. You turn back to the woman to see her comforting her man, and he shoves her away as he turns back to you.
"Now you've earned it, bitch." The man angrily mutters as he begins to untie his breeches. The woman slightly pushes him backwards in anger as the man looks at her in surprise.
"You can't fuck her." She seethes.
"Why? You saw what she did!" He spits back.
"Because I'm yours now, and I'm only yours. You can't fuck this whore because you're angry!"
Just as you are about to object to her name calling, you hear a trotting of hooves in the distance, but they are too busy fighting to hear or focus on it.
"Just because you're mine now doesn't mean I can't teach wenches like this a lesson."
"You only share your bed with me, you know that! We're married now!"
"I can fuck whoever I want, Bella! If you don't like it, then fuck off." He says as he attempts to touch your breasts once again.
Before either you or Bella can stop him, he lurches forward awkwardly and has an odd expression on his face. Suddenly, he coughs on you, where a red, sticky liquid lands.
Bella screams loudly as Vol falls to the ground, an arrow sticking from his back. She grabs her knife and attempts to slash your throat until an arrow flies through hers when she's almost killed you. You could feel the slight cut and a rush of liquid on your throat but you are too focused to notice. She falls to the ground as well and you look towards the men holding your rope up. They seem just as confused until an arrow hits on in the head while the others scatter, leaving you falling to the wet earth. You land in a patch of red snow and scramble to get away from the bodies as you can now see the horses riding towards you. There are about seven of them total. You back against the tree suddenly in fear, until you hear a woman's gentle voice calling out to you from a horse, "It's alright, they won't hurt you."
They are nearly all a few feet in front of you when the red headed woman dismounts from her horse eagerly, going towards you. A tall blonde woman desperately shouts, "Lady Sansa, wait!"; however, the girl is already at your side when the woman is drawing her sword. You scoot backwards in fear when you see the sword being drawn and the other dismounting with their weapons.
"Don't! Can't you see she's frightened?" The girl calls out desperately as she attempts to approach you. She suddenly sees the man's sigil of the house of Bolton, and she gains a serious look on her face.
"They didn't... hurt you... did they?" She whispers sadly to you.
"No, no my lady. You all arrived just in time. If you had been one minute later I don't think I'd be alive to tell you that." You praise. She smiles at that, until the blonde woman interrupts you both.
"You're bleeding." She states as she rips a piece of cloth from the dead woman in front of you both and presses it to your chin. You didn't even think about injuries. Bella must have nicked you when she tried to slash your throat. Your adrenaline must have taken the pain from your thoughts.
"Oh it's nothing!" You attempt to squash their worries before you feel light headed and hold onto the tree for support as you stumble.
"We have to take her back to Winterfell." The girl commands to the small group of men on horseback.
A man with shoulder length black hair and tans facial hair looks to the girl with concern. "Sansa, we don't know anything about her. What if sh-"
"No, Jon. Those were Bolton's men. You know as well as I do what they do to innocent people, good people. He was probably going to..." she looks into space with sorrowful features as her sentence trails into nothingness.
The man sighs and looks towards you with sad eyes. "Are you one of them?"
"No! I was just trying to go back to work at the inn! I had to get clove for my maste- oh no! Where is it?!?" You look around desperately and spot your basket in the distance. You sprint towards it, the small caravan following you.
You release a cry as you look at the remnants of your survival. The cloves are completely muddy and ruined, the wicket basket broken. It's ruined. When he sees this...
You fail to your knees and lay your head in your hands as you begin to sob.
You feel a hand on your back and turn to see a large red headed man rubbing your back comfortingly.
"There, there, beauty. It's going to be alright." He whispers soothingly as he kneels with you.
"No! No! No! He's going to kill me! He's going to kill me! Or worse! He'll throw me out! He'll brand me again! He'll... do terrible, terrible things." You whimper as you sob into your hands and lean into the hug that the man offers you.
"Jon, leaving her will be a death sentence. If she goes to her innkeeper, he's going to kill her, if we leave her here, she'll bleed to death. We cannot let her die." You hear the familiar voice of the red headed girl again as she kneels beside you.
"Lady Sansa is right." You hear the deep voice of the other woman as well as a grunt of approval from the man holding you and the other riders.
"She can stay, but you will take responsibility of her." Jon states.
"I will look after her with the utmost care." She states as she brushes a loose piece of hair from your face.
"What is your name?" The girl asks.
"(Y/n)".
"Alright, (y/n), we're going home. You'll be safe here." She chirps happily as she takes your hand.
