SWEET CREATURE [ Ramsay Bolton ]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Days pass and, together, they watch as Sansa Stark maneuvers her way through the halls of her childhood home. Katherine can understand why the direwolf is the sigil of the Starks. There's something honorable in the way Sansa moves, so unlike the beasts Ramsay keeps chained in his cages, so unlike Myranda's shameless disposition.

     Katherine sees Sansa. She sees the power hidden behind those guarded eyes. She recognizes the anger there.

     "Do you mean to marry her, Ramsay?" The air in the room grows still at her question, and her fingers smooth over her smiling lips. He's such a funny boy. "It's okay," she says, facing his tense shoulders. "You may speak truthfully. I'm not one to suffer much from jealousy."

     His hands slowly begin their work once more, gently cleaning the blood from the blade in his hands. "Would you kill her like you did the last one?" he asks, still refusing to look at her.

"If she irritates me like the last one." She places her hands on his shoulders, leaning her weight against his seated form. The material of his cloak is cold against her skin, speckled with snow and rain. His hair is just as damp, appearing almost black as the tips stick to his skin. He doesn't flinch when she moves her hand to his neck to feel the hot blood just underneath cooled skin.

"It would be an advantageous match," he finally says, when he can no longer pretend to clean the now spotless blade. "Please," his voice is soft as he roughly pushes her hand away, "don't eat her."

"Since you asked so nicely." Rolling her eyes, she moves passed him, giving up on trying to toy with him when he's in such a foul mood. She averts her attention to the flayed man before them, eyes following the cruel cuts made by her lover. The cold creeps down her spine. "Perhaps the Wardeness will be just as fun as her husband," she murmurs.

"You wouldn't object?" he asks from behind her. He wonders if she'll taste the blood he spilled. He knows how badly she craves it.

     But she turns back towards him, leaving the corpse behind. "Why should I?" she asks as she approaches. There's no teasing in her tone, her dark eyes lack their usual mischief. Perhaps she is serious. "It is crucial that you solidify your family's lasting power. Her father was warden of the North which helps and she will be able to provide you with an heir. She's the perfect choice."

"My Wardnerness and my Keeper." His hand settles on her neck, grip tight as he pulls her to him. "One little, happy family."

     "I have such great plans for us, Ramsay." Her hand falls on his chest, and her eyes open wide as she looks up at him. "For me, you, and Sansa."

. . .

     The smell of fresh blood and the sound of a frantic heart draws her to the horse stalls. The beasts nervously scuff at the ground within their stalls, tossing their heads back as they snort in agitation. A familiar face is there to greet her, but it looks different. It's hardened and cruel. Darren holds his drawn sword tightly, pointed towards the soldier who has fallen before him on the ground. The blade is clean but the soldier's nose is very clearly broken.

"Darren?" Katherine calls out. "Fiona." The girl is standing behind Darren, hands clutching the back of his shirt. It's then that Katherine smells the salt in the air, the tangy smell of tears.

"He hurt her," Darren explained, sounding so unlike the calm man that Katherine is familiar with. His brow quirks as he observes the cowering man. "Or he tried to. I'm administering justice. You may leave us, m'lady." He controls his tone well but there is fury bridled just underneath, slipping along with his composure. Katherine is sure he would take good care of this assaulter.