SWEET CREATURE [ Ramsay Bolton ]

CHAPTER SIX

Katherine is alone, wandering the grounds of the fortress, when she hears the sound of fast approaching footsteps. Ignoring the intruder of her privacy, Katherine refuses to alter her pace or even acknowledge the presence of another, and continues trailing her fingers over the rough stone wall. So rarely was she allowed her privacy, with Boltons and whores trailing after her everywhere she goes. Sometimes, she seeks peace in the wintery cold, outside the smoky halls and dark passages of the castle.

     "I know you." The soft voice of another woman breaks the silence. It's a familiar sound, one that turns Katherine's head. Dropping the hood of her cape, she faces the girl she had first met in the nearby village. The smell of Ramsay Snow lingers on the peasant girl's skin. She must have recently left his bed.

     It's a marvel that she has any recollection of Katherine at all who has always made quite sure to cover any tracks she'd left behind. Next time, Katherine will have to do better with the memories she tampers with. Such instances mustn't become a common occurrence.

"Do you?" Katherine questions, playing naive. She looks unimpressed as she observes the girl; she wasn't someone that a person of Katherine's social status would naturally be involved with. Her clothes are in tatters and, under Ramsay's familiar musk, she smells of the streets. "I only recall meeting one Sally in the Dreadfort," Katherine continues dismissively. "She certainly left a lasting impression."

     The girl's face grows increasingly red with shame and embarrassment but she ignores the cruel comment.

"I was seeking your company." Her breath catches in her throat; Katherine can hear the hitch. "That's why I came to this place at all. And now it's why I can't leave."

"I stand before you now." Raising her chin, Katherine grants the attention that was asked of her. She can't deny that she's impressed with the village wench; it was bold of her to approach the dreadfort in search of a woman who had previously wiped her memory. Quite bold indeed. "What is your name?"

"Fiona..." Her head dips and, as if she suddenly remembers who she's talking to, she hastily finishes with, "m'lady."

"Fiona," Katherine whispers. She grips her skirts as she walks towards Fiona, observing every jumping pulse that thrums under the skin of her neck. For all her bravery, she was quite terrified. "Why have you so fervently found your way to me?" It was clear that some part of Fiona's mind remembered the lady from the terrible night in the village. Some obscure memory just refused to be laid to rest.

"I don't know." Suddenly flustered, she drops her gaze and studies her fiddling thumbs. "I was curious."

What a pity, Katherine thinks. Such curiosity had lead Fiona to the destructive dreadfort and into Ramsay's bed. It's a familiar story but one that she's sure will end much differently. Perhaps that is why Fiona had come to her; she understands more than either of them perhaps realize.

"Why do you insist on staying in a place that so obviously unsettles you," Katherine questions, growing increasingly more curious. "Do you mean to say you're forbidden to return to your home? Do you fear him?"

"Everyone does. Except for you." Once again, the cub finds her courage. Her eyes are searching, puzzled as she asks, "How is that?"

     From the very beginning, Fiona had sensed something different about the lady who seemed completely unaware of the cruel environment around her. She walks, untouched by the darkness and ghouls that haunt the Dreadfort. She's unblemished beauty and warm smiles, not a drop of blood blemishing the light she radiates.