Hey guys, sorry it took so long to update! I've been home for the summer for about a month now and I'm taking three online courses. I've also been trying to catch up with the new GOT season. I'm following the show's Ramsay in this fiction with some book inspiration, and now that there's some Ramsay stuff going on in the new season of the show, I have some more plot changes to consider! Anyhow, I'll try to have the next chapter up sooner since some very exciting and fun-to-write Ramsay-smutty-action may very well (definitely) be coming up!

Quick side-side note about the Wattpad user posting my story- You did not get the okay from me, but I don't really mind since you provided the proper credit. I have known about this for a while now, but I have put off posting it on Wattpad myself and I really don't want to confuse the Wattpad followers by making you take it down. As long as credit is given where it is due, keep up the good work! I am a bit bummed I wasn't consulted, but it's fan fiction-it should be shared and appreciated (with proper credit because I go out of my way to write these recreationally). I will be posting the original fiction with all specific grammar under the fanfiction category in Wattpad. I do have a Wattpad which I am planning on posting all of my fan fictions on that site with my official Wattpad Username: GoodyGum

WARNING: This fan fiction contains mature language and mature subject matter including violence, blood, and sexual situations. Do not read if you are easily disturbed by such mature subject matter.


Chapter 9 - The Blue Kiss


The sound of heavy wood creaking was the first thing Eve awoke to when she regained consciousness. Head filled with pain, she slowly opened her eyes with a wince to find herself in complete darkness. All around her, she could hear nothing but what seemed to be the groaning of wood. Slowly lifting herself up in panic, she stumbled as the floor beneath her feet seemed to shift. Where am I? With a pause, she fell over as the floor shifted beneath her once more. She cried out in shock as she hit a wooden surface with a loud crash. It was impossible to discern her surroundings in the darkness, and she flinched in fear at every unexpected creak and groan of surrounding wood. Ramsay…She wept quietly as thumps sounded from above her. The Greyjoys had taken her…and she knew that wherever she was, it was likely not safe.

White light suddenly infiltrated the dark vicinity as a latch menacingly opened from above. Squinting at the abrupt brightness, Eve looked up to see a silhouette standing in the light above. Her eyes burned, but she could make out that the figure was the same Greyjoy woman she had seen near the shores of the Dreadfort. The woman began to descend a ladder and Eve tensed as a familiar figure followed—one of the sick Greyjoy men that had chased her that night. As the two figures stepped down, she shuffled back instinctively. A snort of ridicule sounded from the brutish man.

"You're on our ship now, you bitch. Nowhere to hide…" He growled viciously as he stepped forward. The Greyjoy woman scowled and blocked him angrily. Eve furrowed her brow. A ship? She had only ever heard of ships—vessels that carried men across vast bodies of salted water. Her heart sank as she came to a harrowing realization; she was trapped—surrounded by water in a Greyjoy ship.

"No one touches her. That is an order," The Greyjoy woman gave a severe look and the man stood down as he cursed in frustration and malice.

"That fucking cunt killed one of our men! Crazy bitch tore into his wrist like a dog. We should muzzle the bitch," He snarled from behind the woman.

"I give the orders. You men will keep your pathetic fucking cocks to yourselves. If I don't like her, then she's all yours. Until then, I'm ordering you all to go fuck yourselves," She hissed. Eve expected the man to angrily refuse, but surprisingly, he chuckled darkly. A sick grin spread across his grimy face and Eve shivered in repulsion as his dark eyes roamed over her body before he turned and ascended the ladder, leaving her and the commanding Greyjoy woman alone in the dim chamber. The woman stared down at her with a grim expression as she muttered under her breath.

"I swear…more trouble than you're worth…" The woman wiped her sweaty brow before meeting Eve's cautious gaze with a glare.

"You'd better have something worth saying, girl. Up," The woman stepped forward, grabbing her firmly by the arm and raising her. The woman released her arm and sent a look of warning.

"You will tell me everything you know about the Boltons…What is your name, girl?" Eve froze and contemplated what had been said. If this woman did not deem her useful or worthy of mercy, she would be thrown to the clutches of an angry party of Greyjoy men…

Thinking quickly, she bit her lip and tried to remember everything she had learned about twisting the truth from her many years with Ramsay. They needed information—and she would give them the complete opposite…

"I don't have a name…" She lied, knowing it would not be convincing. All she needed to do was twist the truth a bit…Ramsay was a monster…to the rest of the world. And she loved that monster. If the Greyjoys discovered the truth behind her interactions with Ramsay, she would be shown no mercy…But if they deemed her a victim

"H-He called me his pet…I was locked away…" She finished with a small convincing shudder. It was true, after all. While Ramsay called her by an abundance of names including her own, he did deem her a "pet". And he did lock her in his bedchambers most of the time...She furrowed her brow in realization. Being locked away by Ramsay was less terrifying than it should have been. Nervously, she watched as the woman's mouth settled into a thin line as she clenched her fists.

"You were his pet," The woman gave an amused laugh before shaking her head. "That crazy fucking bastard…" She muttered to herself bitterly before meeting Eve's gaze.

"I like you, girl..." The woman crouched down with a hard expression.

"Don't give me a reason not to."


Ramsay internally fumed at the sight of his father riding into the Dreadfort. He watched hatefully as his father dismounted his horse, an immensely fat bitch stumbling around as she followed close behind. As they approached, he gave a welcoming nod.

"Father, welcome home," He clenched his fists to hide his anger. He did not have the time to deal with all of these formalities…he needed to follow the Greyjoys that had taken Eve…and he needed to slit every last throat of iron blood he could get his hands on. He had already sent some Bolton men to follow the Greyjoy ship. They had set off to the coast near Moat Cailin…He had not doubt they would take Eve there. In the mean time, he knew Eve was not entirely daft… she would not have divulged any information that would get her killed or raped on the spot. But he couldn't count on the Greyjoy cunts not to rape her raw and throw her overboard for the fun of it. Fucking Greyjoys

"Walda, this is Ramsay Snow, my Bastard," Roose introduced, ignoring his son's welcome. Ramsay donned a false smile and stepped forward to kindly touch her chubby shoulder.

"A pleasure, mother," He leaned forward with a fake grin to kiss the Frey fatty on her pink cheek before pulling away, his pleasant façade still at full force as he nodded enthusiastically. Walda gave a shy smile and blushed as she let out a pleased "hello". A twitch in his eye went unnoticed as the fat young woman reminded him somewhat of Eve as a child…all chubby and pink. His jaw clenched tighter, his teeth grinding together—he needed to get to Moat Cailin now. He smiled impatiently as a servant took his father's new bride away before eyeing him seriously.

"Father—" Roose cut him off before he could finish.

"Your prize is secure?" Roose looked at Ramsay coldly as he waited for a response. Ramsay drew coppery blood as he bit down on his cheek and smiled.

"It's with the hounds," He nearly hissed as he scornfully eyed his father. The man gestured forward and Ramsay walked alongside him towards the castle.

"I trust everything is secure," Roose stated as he observed the blood stained paths throughout the castle. His father knew about the Greyjoy infiltration. He needed to go after them, but his father would not permit him to do so on the mere desire to take Eve back. Surely his father would trust him with the task of securing Moat Cailin though.

"Yes father, but we must pursue them. They invaded our land, they drew their swords…we will look weak if we do not—" Roose stopped in his tracks and gave him a severe look.

"We will not look weak. You're not a Bolton; you're a Snow," Crazed blue eyes twitched as he stared at his father. The older man gave him an unamused look.

"You will not complicate our affairs with the Greyjoys on the recreational urge to spill blood and prove a point. That whorish plaything of yours is food for the sharks by now. You will find a new one—better, unbroken," His father looked at him with cold eyes as Ramsay seethed in silent rage. Eve was not a whorish plaything. His father sighed in displeasure and continued forward.

"I will hear no more of this. We will see this prize of yours now," He stepped into his quarters and Ramsay followed close behind, clenching his fists as he resisted the urge to plant a long knife through his father's skull. One of their men entered with Theon, shoving the quivering man forward as Roose stepped up to silently inspect him. A tense silence settled in the room.

"What did you do to him?" His voice was low with quiet anger.

"I trained him. He was a slow learner…But he learned," Ramsay stated, eyeing his father in his own silent anger.

"You flayed him."

"Peeled a few bits…Removed a few others," He smirked as he glanced around in false innocence. Surely his father did not need all of the Greyjoy man intact. Not like I need all of Eve returned to me in one piece. He could tell his father was immensely displeased…Not as displeased as I am.

"This was Balon Greyjoy's son and heir," His father's jaw grew tense as he stared down in growing discontent. Ramsay remained silent as he watched his father walk towards a map on the side of the room.

"Tywin Lannister has given me the North, but he won't lift a finger to help me take it. As long as the Iron-Born hold Moat Cailin, our armies are trapped south of the neck. Theon was a valuable hostage, not your plaything. I wanted to trade him for Moat Cailin," Roose pointed to the map as he turned and crossly awaited Ramsay's explanation.

"I already asked. Lord Greyjoy refused—"

"You sent terms to Balon Greyjoy without my consent?" His father nearly whispered in resentment. Ramsay wanted to roll his eyes and charge out of the room. He had done as he was ordered—he had even gone out of his way to make Theon far more valuable an asset. And here he was, explaining himself when he should have been patted on the back and released to take care of the Greyjoys that had invaded their home and taken his Eve. Perhaps the virtues of having Reek over Theon Greyjoy were not yet realized by his father.

"Theon was our enemy. But Reek…Reek will never betray us," Ramsay's cold blue gaze met his father's stony eyes as the man silently shook his head at his son.

"I placed far too much trust in you…"

Ramsay's nostrils flared in fury as he watched his father turn away from him. He looked to the ground, his icy gaze scanning quickly as he heatedly planned to prove that his father's trust was not misplaced.

"Reek? How could you let me stand before my father in shame? It's disrespectful…" Ramsay spoke lowly as Theon cowered in apology.

Ramsay suddenly stormed over to a chair near a silver plated water-bowl and made himself comfortable.

"Reek…Fetch the razor," Ramsay stated nonchalantly before splashing water onto his unshaven jaw. His father turned in tense observation, his eyes darting between Ramsay and Theon as the meek man retrieved a deathly sharp razor blade from the table and approached the chair to stand behind his son.

"Go on Reek…A nice, close shave," Ramsay leaned back to expose his neck. He would prove himself worthy to his father. The Greyjoy man followed his order, meticulously spreading the shaving cream along Ramsay's neck and jawline like a well-trained dog. With concentrated care, he brought the razor up the side of Ramsay's jaw, a crisp scrape sounding as it smoothly swiped away the first section of stubble. Roose watched on in silence as the Greyjoy man pulled the blade away before he thoughtfully angled it to shave the next section. Ramsay's voice cut through the silence.

"Reek, tell father…where are Bran and Rickon Stark? Theon's hand shook as he paused, the blade close to Ramsay's neck as it trembled in his hand.

"I don't know, my lord," He continued to shave jerkily yet carefully. Ramsay's father stepped forward.

"You murdered them. And displayed their corpses at Winterfell," Roose stated as he watched the scene unfold in growing interest.

"Reek…Did you murder the Stark boys?" Ramsay asked as he closed his eyes calmly.

"No, my lord. Just two farm boys," Reek answered with a broken voice. Ramsay raised his head to face his father briefly.

"The Starks have always ruled the North. If Bran and Rickon are alive, the country will rally to their side…" He lowered himself once more, leaning his head back as Theon stood behind him, the razor's sharp blade slowly rising up his neck once more. Ramsay's eyes remained peacefully closed before he finished evilly, "…Now that Robb Stark is gone..."

The blade abruptly paused on the base of Ramsay's neck as the Greyjoy man stared down, his entire body quivering. Cold blue eyes opened as they stared evenly into the face of the broken man above.

"Oh, that's right, Reek. Robb Stark is dead…Sorry, I know he was like a brother to you, but my father put a knife through his heart," Ramsay taunted with wide blue eyes.

"...How do you feel about that...?" His cold gaze focused on Reek as the man's shaking increased, almost inaudible moans of misery fighting to escape him. The room was silent before the razor continued on its path, the crisp sound of the sharp blade meeting stubble cutting through the intense silence. Ramsay smiled as Reek finished with the shave, lifting himself to clean his face with a cloth before facing his father with a dark smirk.

"I train my pets very well," Ramsay stated pointedly as he approached his father. With a brief look of contemplation, Roose nodded.

"You want to prove yourself a Bolton, gather whatever men you can and ride to Moat Cailin. Take the moat for the family…for our family..."

Ramsay grinned before nodding, "I will not fail you, father."

Hastily, Ramsay exited the quarters, ordering Reek to follow. He had gotten exactly what he needed— not only would he take Moat Cailin for his family, but he would take back his most precious possession.


The air was stale and putrid—the dirt-ridden grounds of Moat Cailin were stinking of rotting flesh from the piles of men that had died from starvation and the severe cold of the Northern air. Eve's body shook in a deep shiver as she tried to keep warm in the small empty room she had recently been confined to. After sailing on the Greyjoy ship for what seemed to be days, they stopped abruptly on an unfamiliar shore. The Greyjoy woman had released her with a trusted party of her men to head inland for what had been called Moat Cailin. The Greyjoy woman had explicitly ordered that she arrive unharmed and untouched…and Eve had been thankful for what seemed to be mercy at the time…but it had truly been a death sentence.

After two days of silent and unnervingly uneventful travel from the shore, here she had arrived, in a forsaken fortress of fading men that were undoubtedly too sick and too drained to notice or care about her presence. No guards had been placed on her—perhaps they were so few in numbers that they did not dare waste such resources or attention on her…Eve let out a shaky breath, contemplating what would happen if she simply attempted to walk out in the open and straight out of the fortress. She cringed at the idea—could she really take such a chance without knowing what lay beyond? It was a crude plan…but she couldn't stay in this empty stone room forever.

Standing, her empty stomach groaned in hunger as her legs quivered beneath her. Taking a small step forward, she braced herself against the cold grey stones of the wall before her weak knees gave away, sending her to the dirt ground below. She had not filled her stomach since being taken from the Dreadfort…While on the Greyjoy ship, she had been provided a small amount of bread and water that seemed to churn in her stomach with every jostle of the large vessel. Any attempt at eating had resulted in consequences that left her throat burning with the sting of vomit and her mouth with its unpleasant taste. She had heard of the nasty tales of sea-sickness as a girl, but such an ailment was far more horrendous when experienced first-hand.

Her lip quivered as she sat in the cold dirt. She was starving and freezing—but she could not help but focus on the thought of Ramsay. Will I ever see him again? All of the pain she felt seemed to fade into the background as she imagined running her hands against his stubbly jaw and feeling his warm hands on her cheeks once more. Her vision was hazy and the room felt like it was rocking back and forth like the Greyjoy ship against the waves. I am going to die here alone…Ramsay…

No lack of food or warmth compared to being apart from Ramsay…He was the only pain she knew, the only fear…and the only cure. Slowly, she lowered her matted head onto a small patch of mossy dirt, closing her stinging eyes as she imagined Ramsay's hands. It felt so very real as a hand seemed to gently shake her shoulder before she fell into an exhausted sleep…


"R-Reek," The trembling man stuttered as he tried to wake his master's girl. He brought his hand to her shoulder, shaking it lightly before pulling away quickly in fear despite her motionless state.

He fell over and brought his hands up to cover his ears as the clashing of swords sounded from outside. Master had claimed he would let the men return home…but his men were slaughtering them all instead. Blades and blood and bloody blades….Reek muttered his name to himself before rocking lightly at the horrific sights and pain he had experienced. The places where his flesh had been flayed had never healed properly, and they throbbed as he remembered the curve of the blade that had caused the pain. His warped hands and feet ached as he looked down in panic, repetitively counting the fingers and crying out in agony as he remembered just how he had lost the ones where mere stumps protruded…

His frantic eyes met the still figure of the pale girl and his violent fit settled into a calmer series of shakes and tics. Grey-blue eyes darted over her features as he took in the knotted and muddied blonde curls that framed her colorless face. The girl…the girl…she belonged to his master.

"Master's girl…" He mumbled to himself before scooting closer, hovering over her unmoving body. So pretty…

It was then that he remembered the mutilated space between his legs and the ghost of a missing appendage. He remembered once more just who had taken it and why. He violently shuffled away from the girl's still body and slammed into the stone wall across from her before moaning hysterically at the ghost of agony in his lower half.

"No! Reek, no! R-Reek! Reek! My name…Reek!" He yelled out, the pain disappearing as he cried out to himself. He would not touch his master's girl…He would not…

Chancing another look at the girl's pallid face, he twitched at the harrowing sight of her lips—chapped and tinged a deep blue from the harsh bite of the icy air. Quickly, he scrambled to tug his cape off, placing it over her body and flinching as his hand accidentally brushed her cheek. She was like ice…

Leaning forward carefully, he lingered over her face, searching her erratically before fearfully breathing hot air onto her face. When she did not move, his mouth twitched fretfully as he let out another shaky breath, his head slowly moving towards her blue lips. His eyes remained transfixed on her mouth as his face hesitantly jerked closer and closer. He opened his mouth wider as he stopped just before hers, breathing once more before quickly brushing his trembling tongue across her bottom lip. He flinched away at their lack of heat before nervously brushing his tongue against them once more, this time planting his mouth onto hers.

"Mmmm," He whimpered as his lips moved across her cold ones.

He pulled away to gaze at her pretty face unsteadily before an immense pain fell across his back, throwing him down to the dirt.

"R-Reek! Reeeek!" He moaned out in pain, his weak arms shielding his head as a series of ruthless blows met his ribcage. Grey-blue eyes looked up pleadingly as they met a furious and all-too familiar pair of coldblooded blue.

"Enjoying yourself?"


Hurrah! I had to go back and rewatch some episodes from season 4 to get the Moat Cailin situation down. I had Yara dump Eve off to the Greyjoys of Cailin because it is technically a death sentence to be left in a failing soon-to-be abandoned fortress. In a way, it is Yara's revenge for Theon. I had Theon (Reek) creep a little bit towards the end…But he was kind of trying to help…minus the creeping tongue. I kept thinking of Drunk in Love while I wrote that part for some reason. No idea why…Now I keep picturing Reek as some strange Westeros Beyoncé. Reek just wants in on the action…I've been thinking of writing him his own romance fiction since he gets neglected by some writers. We'll see how our favorite "crazy" Bastard deals with "creeping Reek" in the next chapter!