SWEET CREATURE [ Ramsay Bolton ]

CHAPTER TWELVE

The carved bark taunts her but she doesn't give it the pleasure of a fitful reaction. Any anger she had once felt towards the Gods has long since faded into a cool indifference. The legends now amuse her rather than infuriate her. So, she bows her head and pretends to pray. It's quiet in the Godswood, peaceful. And it's the last place Ramsay would look to find her.

There's a resounding crunch as feet press into the snow behind her and she smiles. The feet hesitate as he wonders whether to retreat, before he decidedly steps closer. There's no fear left in his heart but he's not yet stupid; he knows to remain cautious.

"Do you pray to the old gods or the new?" Katherine asks softly, her soft voice comforting and misleading. She hasn't turned towards him, she doesn't need to. When her eyes do open, they only peer into the carved wooden eyes before her. The tree stares silently back at her, like it's always done.

"I was raised in the light of the seven," Darren replies warily. It's unnerving to see her in such a vulnerable position, down on her knees in the midst of worship. Or was the action mocking? Was it perhaps a dare for a response she's never received?

"I as well," she reveals and Darren is surprised by her honesty. It's a rare occasion when Katherine reveals such personal information. Darren, her only confidant in the North, still considers her a stranger. "Though there's something about the old gods..." she continues thoughtfully. "They seem much less superficial, wouldn't you say?"

Finally, she turns to peer up at him, eyes wide as she waits for his say. There's snow caught in her hair, in her lashes and the folds of her dress. The Gods really are mischievous, he thinks, to create such a beautiful weapon. The woman could seduce any man in Westeros and kill him within seconds. How unfair it seems... is this how women feel everyday in the company of men? He hates his own vulnerability.

"I don't appreciate their barbarity." Darren sniffs as he disdainfully eyes the Weirwood tree. He was never much of a believer in any god or faith. However, with the arrival of Katherine, Darren can't help but question what other creatures might exist. If monsters such as her walk the earth, is it so impossible to believe in the Gods?

Perhaps so. Darren is still reluctant to pledge fealty to a being he's never seen nor heard. 

Katherine is gliding towards him in that inhuman, fluid way of hers and she reaches him before he has time to pull out of reach. "There's nothing wrong with a little barbarity," she teases and he grimaces. It's clear who she's referring to, the look on her face so easily gives her away.

"For people who apparently hate each other, you two seem eager for the other's company," he notes, still trying to understand the grounds of such an unusual relationship. Nothing about Katherine makes sense. Her motives are skillfully concealed behind teasing eyes and a flirtatious nature.

"I don't hate Ramsay," she says with a huff of laughter, as if the very notion of it is ridiculous. "I hate losing to him. And everyone knows that close proximity is used to establish dominance. Pay close attention Darren, I offer valuable advice."

"So, carrying on in his bedchambers is you..."

"Winning." She grins, looking every bit like the cat that caught the canary.

The wind slows as he looks at her, and it feels as if the world had grown incredibly still. He's confused, and looking down at her as if she's some small strange creature that he's found among the leaves. His gaze doesn't worry her. Her defenses are strong, she prides herself on them, so she doesn't flinch and only raises her head higher.

"Who are you running from, Katherine?" he asks, gaze never wavering. "And why did you run here?" It's a question he's already asked many times before. There's something different in his tone now, something that demands the truth. She respects his bravery.