"Come on on love, draw your swords, shoot me to the ground. You are mine, I am yours, let's not fuck around." Laryss Clatton, wed to the Warden of the North, Ramsay Bolton. A bastard in her eyes, only a man through his cursed, wretched sins. Unforgiving and solid as ice, Ramsay hopes to melt the sharp Clatton. Though, he may not fare successful, for it will not be a battle of swords. At least, not entirely. "It's your turn to bleed." "Our blades our sharp." Game of Thrones fanfiction. OC insert. Television series based. Not really a love story.