Rating: M for violence, abusive relationships, language, and insinuated abuse.

Short ficlet about Sansa's time in Winterfell as Ramsay's husband. Based off of A Game of Thrones, not the book series, A Song of Ice and Fire.

Enjoy!

See Author's Notes at the end.

This was her chance. If she hurried, she could gather a few necessities and be on her way—out of Winterfell, away from the Boltons, away from all of it. Sansa threw open the door to the bedchambers she shared with her newest husband in a hurry and rushed in, but stopped as she saw Ramsay sitting on the edge of the bed, as if he knew she'd be coming. Sansa's blood ran cold at the sneer on his face. He knew. He had to, just by judging by the look on his face. Cautiously, she took a step back from him before he even began to speak.

"Reek told me of your little plan to escape... again." He sighed, rather annoyed with her, as if he was chastising a small child for the same actions for the fiftieth time. "Clever plans, my lady... Paying off the stable boy for one of the lame horses and his silence... very clever. Better than your previous plans, I must admit." He started to laugh as he stood from the bed, slowly making his way toward her, his boots scraping against the floor. With each step Ramsay took, Sansa took two back.

"I-I don't know what you're... what you're referring to, my lord," she stammered, inching closer to the stone wall.

"Oh, I think you do. Enlisting Reek to help you escape was your downfall, I'm afraid. He told me you called him by another name... 'Theon' was it?" The handsome smirk he had been sporting had suddenly been replaced with a look of malice.

"N-No, my lord... I didn't, I didn't," she pleaded, dropping her eyes from his. She let out a small scream as he gripped her upper arms tightly, giving her a rough shake.

"Don't. Lie. To. Me."

"Please, you're hurting me," she wailed, trying to wriggle free of his grip, causing him to squeeze harder. She'd bruise later; she could tell simply by how hard he was holding her.

"Stupid bitch. When will you ever learn? You have no friends here at Winterfell. They are my father's men, my men—loyal to House Bolton. And Reek," he emphasized the name heavily, spitting in her face for effect, "is my man and my man alone. You'd be wise to keep your stupid plans to yourself and not enlist help from anyone within these walls. They'll turn on you quicker than you know, especially if it'll save them from the flaying board. You have no friends here, and the castle is full of eyes and ears. I suggest you watch yourself unless you want to end up like dear Reek."

"But I—," her protests were cut short as Ramsay angrily shoved her against the wall, the back of her head colliding with the cold stone. She felt the skin break where her head collided with the wall, but she didn't dare reach her hand up to survey the damage. That would just cause Ramsay to hurt her even more. Instead, she whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut as tears leaked from under her lids.

Ramsay rolled his eyes and released one hand from around her arm, giving her a hard slap across her cheek with the back of his hand, the silver ring with large black stone his father had given him colliding squarely with her lip, causing it to split open. Sansa sobbed and dropped her face but Ramsay grabbed her roughly by the chin and forced her head up.

"Look at me, bitch."

Sansa obeyed, flinching slightly, as her lip started to bleed while tears cascaded down her cheeks. "Y-Yes, my... my lord."

"You'll do well to remember your place here. You're my wife; you will listen to me and obey my commands and wishes. Do you understand me?"

She nodded in agreement and understanding before being roughly shoved back to the wall, away from Ramsay. She stumbled over her feet and slumped against the wall, holding herself tightly as if to prepare herself for another blow.

"Clean yourself up. I want you decent; tears are a sign of weakness. You're a Bolton now and we are not weak," he spat before turning on his heel and leaving Sansa to gather herself and get cleaned up.

Once Ramsay was gone, she touched the back of her head where it had connected with the wall at Ramsay's shove and her fingers came back sticky and red. Silently, she washed her face, taking care to not touch her busted lip more than necessary, and washed her hair until the water ran clear. Once she was cleaned up, she dressed in something elegant, but comfortable, just in case Ramsay decided to pay her a second visit that day before returning for the night. She knew what would happen then, so she did her best to push those thoughts from her mind.

After sending for one of the maesters to bring her something for the pain, Sansa climbed into bed and pulled the covers to her chin and rolled onto her side, her back to the door. She jumped—she was always rather jumpy now—when the door to the bedchambers opened a short while later, but it was only Reek, carrying a small vial sent from the maesters.

"L-Lady Sansa? You requested something for... for your—,"

"Pain, yes. Pain. Give it here," she grumbled as she pushed herself into a sitting position, hand outstretched for the vial.

After downing the elixir with a grimace, she thrusted the small container back at Reek who looked on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry, my lady... I'm truly sorry for what happened. Please forgive me; I didn't know he'd react like that..."

"Are you really that thick or are you just pretending to be stupid? It's Ramsay. Seven Hells! Of course he's going to react like that! Just... get out. I trusted you, Theon! You were my last hope."

"It's Reek!" he shouted, taking a step back from her quickly. "I'm not Theon, I'm Reek... Reek, Reek, it rhymes with weak! It's Reek, my lady! And I was just trying to save you. I'm truly sorry, Lady Sansa. I was just trying to do the right thing."

Sansa settled back into the pillows silently, her back to Reek, and refused to acknowledge that he had spoken to her. Taking her silence as his cue to leave, Reek did just that, leaving Sansa alone with her thoughts.

"I have no one and nothing left," she whispered quietly to the empty room around her. "I no longer have a home. This is no longer Winterfell. This is literal Hell and I can't get out; this is nothing but a vicious cycle."

The thought made her nauseous and sad, and after a time of silent meditation, she thought to herself: "No. One day I'll get out and I'll be free. I will break this damn cycle if it's the last thing I do and I'll bring everyone down with me if necessary, starting with that bastard. I'll break him just like he's broken me."

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it. As usual, I'd appreciate any feedback you could give me on the story. Constructive criticism, phrased nicely and tactfully will always be taken into account and used for future updates and will not be deleted from the comments section. Any rude or hateful comments will be deleted upon reading them, no exceptions. Thank you for being such loyal readers, raters, and reviewers!