I know no one likes ocs, but I got this idea stuck in my head. Skip to chapter two if you wish to get to a Ramsay POV sooner. He'll have more and longer ones as the story progresses.
Luciya sat in front of the large fireplace in the great hall, watching the flames rise and the wood crack. It could be quite mesmerizing. She often times wanted to reach out and touch it, to feel the flames. But she was well beyond the years of a foolish child. She was the eldest daughter of House Blackthorn. And as such, she had to compose herself as a lady. They were a minor house, but she would still be a lady one day. Best not to forget herself. She stood, straighten her skirts, and began adding another log to the fire.
"My lord we need the Starks help-"
"Need nothing. We no longer serve the Starks. The Boltons are the wardens of the North now."
Startled, Luciya turned to see her father enter along with his castellan Aryck. They were arguing, as was usual now a days. Since the beginning of the war those two had not seemed to agree on anything. And it was only getting worse. Times were harsh for everyone, but they were growing darker for the Blackthorns. They were close to an all-out war with another house. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she didn't know if their house would still be standing if it came down to that.
"This is a conversation for my office. Not where the small folk can hear." He father gritted the last part through his teeth. He had slowly started coming unhinged in the last months. She was honestly worried for him.
"Father, is there anything I could do to help? You're rather tense." Hearing that he stopped in his tracks and turned towards her. He must not even have realized she was there.
"No. no I'll ask enough of you in due time.", he smiled sadly. "Just…make sure your brothers are getting along." With that he turned away, likely heading towards his office. He seemed distracted, more distracted than usual. Something was wrong. Maybe she could question him at dinner.
She took a step outside into the brisk air. It had gotten colder as well over the months. Now, making sure her brother were getting along was a task within itself. She needn't worry herself with Braydon, as the oldest of the siblings he was training to be lord. He was more than likely training in the court yard. The youngest was a young baby girl, Gwen, not much trouble she could get into. Her two younger brothers, Tarviss and Damian, on the other hand…well, if they weren't arguing with each other they were creating mischief together.
The yard was filled with people, all going about doing their duties. She could hear the clash of steel from the soldiers and guards as they trained. The servants and small folk scurried about fixing buildings, carrying supplies. And she could smell the bread from the ovens in the kitchen. It was sad to think that this could all be taken away, if not by war then by winter, if they didn't get help soon.
But there was no need in worrying with that quite yet. She had her brothers to find. Gods help her.
Lucyia looked down the long dinner table, eyeing the two boys in front of her. Her brothers had scrapes and scratches from head to toe. She had found them climbing the weirwood tree of all things! She had given them such a berating. Now it seems as though they were mad, blaming each other for the others misfortune. They barely said a word, just poked at their venison, and occasionally each other. In fact, the whole table was quiet. Though that was possibly a reaction from father's tense mood. Now was as good a time to ask as any.
"Father is something troubling you? You aren't acting well." That question was probably a bit presumptuous but she needed to know. She couldn't have her family falling apart at a time like this.
He let out a long sigh as he put his fork down, rubbing his forehead with the other hand. "Earlier today, I received news that may help us."
"Oh Corren, that's lovely news." Her mother clasped her hand over his. Her slight, smooth hand was a stark difference from his large and rough one. Her father was a stout and burly man. Her mother was tall and delicate. To look upon, they were an odd match. But their love was always evident. "Why all this fretting then?"
He looked from her mother and then down to her. His face was solemn and it was making her anxious. "I wrote to Lord Bolton for help. As the warden of the north it would be his duty."
"And he agreed to aid us" her mother smiled.
"Not quite" her father continued. "Times are troubling. He said he'd need something in return. I offered Lucyia's hand."
So that was it. She was to be married off. This had always been expected of her. The idea of being married to Roose Bolton was not a pleasant one but she was sure she could manage. In time they may grow fond of one another. And this would make her part of a major house. The amount of help that could bring her family was far more important to her.
"Corren, Roose Bolton is recently married. To Walda Frey I believe." Her mother added.
"I know. That's why I offered her to Ramsay"
No no no no no no no. Seven hells! She chided herself on cursing later.
"The bastard?!" her mother's voice raised to a volume Lucyia had not heard from her in a long time.
"He is legitimized now Martha! It would do you good to remember that. Gods help us if you say that in front of him."
Lucyia could feel herself shaking, she just knew the color had drained from her face. How could father do this? Didn't he know what that man was like? Oh her stomach was in knots. It wasn't bad enough that the Bolton's flayed and torture people, it was said that Ramsay fully enjoyed it. The things he did to women he laid with was immoral. The thought was revolting. To be married to some monster…..it might as well be a death sentence.
"She won't do it" her mother protested. "I'm not sending my daughter to that..that..thing!"
"Calm yourself." he reached for her mother's hand but she quickly pulled away. "Nothing's final yet. They want Lucyia to travel to their keep so Ramsay can spend time with her. Should he approve, only then would they be wed."
And with that her mother was truly outraged. Her brow furrowed and her lips sneered together in a tight line. "Oh! So, they have to judge if she's good enough for that demon of a-"
"Father, really is this necessary I'm sure-" Braydon started and then everyone started talking at once. Mother was yelling at father. Braydon was trying come up with another plan. Aryck was trying to reason with mother. And Tarviss and Damien began yelling, for no other reason than because they could apparently.
Lucyia's head was swimming. She couldn't even discern her own thoughts through all this noise. Though, it was reassuring to know others in her family liked this plan as little as she did.
One of the few things she could make out through all the noise was Braydon saying "-hear he hunts women with his dogs-" And that was enough to send her father over the edge.
"Enough!" he shouted with the slam of a fist. The room quickly grew quite though no one looked pleased. "The only words I want to hear are from Lucyia." He turned his head towards her, with a look of hope mixed with sadness. "I know this is a lot to ask of you. I know the stories you've heard. But please consider this. For the House. For your family."
And that's what it all came down to. What she was willing to do to protect her people, protect her family. She looked back at her father, at a face that had shown her nothing but love growing up. She could remember a time when that face was always smiling and making others smile as well. That comparison to now was grim. She had never seen Ramsay, but if he looked anything like his father the thought was chilling. They were a very stern, very vengeful looking people. What was she supposed to do if, no when he hit her. She had heard he liked whores. Maybe he'd just stick to those. Visit her a few times and be bored of her.
Everyone was looking at her for an answer. They expected something. She straighten the braid in her hair hanging near her face, more to settle her own nerves then to approve appearances. She looked back at the grim faces, the concerned evident on all of them. She knew her answer and she delivered it as best she could. She smiled, the brightest smile she could manage in the moment, "I would be happy to serve our house."
Her father let out a breath she didn't know he'd been holding. Brayden muttered something under his breath that she couldn't manage to make out, arms folded tightly across his chest. And her mother….her poor mother. It was all Lucyia could do not to cry. It would do them no good if both of them were crying. The water was welling up in the older woman's eyes as she gave Lucyia a small smile, "You've always been such a good girl" she managed to get out half broken between small sobs. But no quicker than that had the smile faded. She looked at her hands, apparently no longer wanting to look her husband in the eye. Shaking her head the whole time she threatened "I swear Corren, if he lays one hand on her I'll-I'll never forgive you."