His laughter was spreading across the room, drowning out the clinking of wine cups, mumbling of guests and the whistle of flutes. It was the kind of laugh that made many brave men shiver and silently pray, but he was used to the amused cackling and he could say that sometimes he enjoyed the sound of the vulgar mirth. But now he frowned in the direction it was coming from, for he could not hear the music that was spectacular this evening. But the man on the other side of the table didn't notice his scowl and continued in telling stories he found funny to his loyal friend, Reek.
Reek had to be sat at the back of the room, otherwise father would freak out, in the calm, terrifying kind of way he always did. He inherited this behavior from his father, unlike his brother Ramsay he was circumspect, intelligent, and he didn't believe in violence. But just because he didn't believe in boundless power of violence, he enjoyed causing it. The shriek of pain was almost as satisfying as the music the hall was filled with. He took another sip from his wine cup and looked across the room with his cold, piercing eyes. Half of the Northern nobility was sitting, drinking or dancing in the room, enjoying themselves all thanks to his father, who was sitting at the head of the table, surrounded with other high lords and ladies, from time to time conversing with them and accepting thanks for throwing such a glorious feast.
He did not fully understand why his father wanted to host them on such a flamboyant event, but he could not say that he didn't enjoy it. The wine was tasteful, the music was pleasant, and as Ramsay and him noted, the highborns brought with them beautiful young handmaidens, which were only asking to be violated and disturbed for the rest of their lives. Well, if there was any life ahead them.
As the evening went on, some of the guests left the feast to get some sleep, some of the lords passed out under the table and some ladies got lost in beds of men who weren't their husbands. His father looked contented and his brother was drunk as always. The remaining guests were dancing, but mainly drinking and shouting. He was annoyed by the screaming and he got a headache, so he was only pleasantly surprised, when he felt someone's hand on his shoulder.
"Time to rape some bitches, aye?" His brother laughed, his eyes already dazed with the amount of alcohol.
"I'm sure our father would find it inappropriate if we left the feast so early." The words were not easily escaping his mouth, for he wanted to leave the damn noise and clear his head with some wench.
"Oh come on, lil' brother! Their cunts await you!" He shouted too loudly so some people looked at him with their eyes widened.
"Fine." He sighed. "But it better be worth it, or I'll fucking rape you."
In the yards of Dreadfort was a quiet, warm night. He could still hear the sounds of the ongoing feast from the inside, but much louder was the howling of wolves in the woods and barking of the Ramsay's dogs. They were wild, but loyal animals, but he never liked them as much as his older brother did. He liked dangerous animals and he always insisted on his father buying him one of the snakes from Dorne.
His brother walked around the yard and looked around. The place was empty, but he knew it wouldn't last for long. With so many guests in the castle, there was no chance they wouldn't catch out some of the handmaidens. He was hoping that Ramsay would stay out if his most violent bestialities, because unlike Ramsay he realized what a scandal like that might cause. He didn't care if it would make his father angry, but he didn't want to destroy his family politically. Peaceful land, quiet people. That was what his father liked to say and he couldn't agree more. Peaceful land, quiet people, a bit of the old ultraviolence.
He heard footsteps and quiet laughter. He looked at his brother and smirked.
"Ladies!" Ramsay cried out with his filthy voice. The girl suddenly stopped and started staring at them. They were young, not older than he was himself, pretty for plain servants. They were carrying pitchers, filled with wine, as he guessed. He hesitated, wondering if his brother has any idea what he was going to do, but he supposed that Ramsay was too drunk to think of anything creative.
"Who do you serve, if I may ask?" He said in a playful tone to them. One of them opened her mouth and quietly whispered that they served Lady Ryswell.
"Oh, my dear, dear Barbrey?" Ramsay laughed out loud and snorted.
"What a noble house these Ryswells are," he said with a calm voice. He was just rambling, but he felt satisfied when he saw how he made the girls shiver.
"I heard that the Ryswell women lie with their horses," he raised his eyebrows, amused with himself. Ramsay bursted into laughter.
"Really? Fucking hells!"
"Well, if you look at the Ryswell men, you can't be really surprised," he smirked and looked at the girls with his cold eyes. They remained silent, gazing at him with their eyes full of fear.
"Is it true?" When they did not reply, he stepped closer to them and looked right into face of one of the girls. "Is it true?!" He did not raise his voice, but you could hear the urge and cruelty in his voice. One of them shook her head.
"I take your silence as agreement," he said and looked at Ramsay. "I have never seen anyone fuck a horse. Did you, brother?"
Ramsay's eyes were shining as he slowly shook his head.
"I am certain it would be a marvelous thing to see, wouldn't you agree?" He raised his eyebrows at Ramsay. His brother only nodded with a cruel smirk on his lips.
"My ladies, would you mind accompanying me to the stables?" He offered them his arm. The girls only stood there, not moving or making a sound. He narrowed his eyes.
"It was an order."
"My lord... please. Lady Ryswell is awaiting us. Please, please, let us go," one of the girls whimpered. He looked at Ramsay.
"I don't know. Shall we let them go, brother of mine?"
Ramsay grabbed one of the girls' hand roughly. "Shut your fucking mouth, wench, and do what your lord commands." The girl shrieked and was pulled towards the stables by his brother's beefy hand. The other girl followed obediently and started sobbing.
When they reached the stables, both of the girls were already quietly whimpering and Ramsay started to laugh madly. This was the time when he recognized his brother the best. Bestial, wicked and rotten.
"Hmm... Which horse?" He murmured and looked around. "Do you think that our lord father's horse needs some old in out, in out as well?"
Ramsay laughed and roughly tore off the dress of one of the girls. She fell down on the mud and started crying.
"Go on, wench. Show us how you do it in the Rills!" Ramsay shouted and kicked her with his boot.
"Please, my lord. Please!" The girl cried out. He was just watching the show, not doing anything and waiting what his brother would do. After all, they had all night for this.
"How dare you disobey me, you whore?" Ramsay kicked the girl again and leaned over her. "You will do as you're fucking told or I will cut you to pieces and feed you to the dogs!"
The girl just lied there, sobbing and shaking with fear. Ramsay started untying his breeches and breathing heavily.
The dogs were howling and over the sounds of the feast you could hear echoing of a girl's screams and a man's laughter.
