Isabelle felt numb as she continued to sit on Ramsay's lap, his arms still around her body as he held her to him. Merika had been dragged away and sent back to her mother. Ramsay had not been bothered to move, the smell of blood still lingering in the air as he ran his hands down his wife's side as if it soothed her.

She remained silent, her hands shaking in her lap as Merika's sobs continued to echo within her ears. She did her best not to allow the bile to rise up her throat, knowing that it would come soon enough. The time would come when she was physically sick because Ramsay had done something. Bowing her head, Ramsay moved his chin and rested it on her head.

"Do you know now, Eleanor?" he whispered to her. "Do you know that it will be easier for you if you simply do as I say?"

Isabelle shook her head back and forth, knowing full well that it would not get easier. Being with Ramsay never got easier. She often wondered why he was what he was. How had he become so cruel? Since when did he turn into such a sadistic human? Isabelle didn't know.

"Will it?" she wondered from him, trying to push herself from his lap. "You said that to me before all of this and it never became easy...none of it is easy...and you know that, Ramsay," Isabelle complained to him. "Just...please...let me go..."

Ramsay's grip on her increased, his fingers digging into her flesh uncomfortably. She withered in pain whilst Ramsay looked to her, shaking his head back and forth as a sigh escaped his lips, the hot breath hitting Isabelle on her cheek.

"My father sent me a message," Ramsay suddenly told her, ignoring her pleas. "I didn't want it to distract from the fun we were going to have down here. He told me of your time in Winterfell...your time with the one they call Lord Stark nowadays..."

Her spine stiffened as Ramsay trailed his finger down her cheek, wiping away a tear which had left its mark there. She sniffed loudly as Ramsay looked to the ceiling and chuckled.

"Did you honestly think that he loved you? Was that it, Eleanor? You ran away and fell for the first man who gave you a little bit of attention?"

"No!" Isabelle snapped at him, her hands balling into fists as she smacked at his chest. "You need to leave Robb out of this, Ramsay. He didn't know who I was...he didn't know anything..."

"Sh," Ramsay urged her, taking her fists into his grip and holding them against his chest. She remained mute for a few moments, her mind returning to Robb for a few seconds. She remembered how he...well...everything...she remembered everything about him and she suspected that was the part which hurt the most.

"Robb Stark," Ramsay spoke his name in a slow drawl, pressing his lips to the back of Isabelle's hands, the motion too tender to be Ramsay expressing any care for her. She knew how this worked. "Do you think that he misses you? Do you think that he would risk everything he has to come and save you from the Dreadfort?"

Isabelle shook her head, but held her head high, looking Ramsay in the eye for once. "Robb knows what to do, and if this war ever ends then he will come for me."

"And will he have an army to back him up?" Ramsay wondered, sliding Isabelle from his lap.

She stood tall and moved away from Ramsay, doing her best to stay as far away from the cross of wood as possible. Ramsay moved over to it, his hand running down the surface as he looked at it, recalling the time he had his wife strapped to it. There was not a part of him which regretted that decision. It had been the right one.

He only wished that Isabelle would show him some respect like a wife should. Perhaps then he would not treat her as badly.

"You are mine. You sword to the Seven that you would be mine for the rest of time," Ramsay reminded her and she gulped loudly as he turned to lean against the cross, folding his arms across his chest.

Isabelle knew that he spoke sense. "His men know what is right and if he even tries to take you from me...well...he can fully expect to find himself down here..."

Isabelle slowly ran her hand down her arm, the bare skin prickling as nerves took over her. She knew that Ramsay didn't jest about his playroom. He was sadistic and sarcastic, but he usually meant what he said. She nodded slowly as Ramsay continued to stare at her.

"I take it you understand?" Ramsay checked.

"What is there not to understand?" Isabelle blandly replied.

"Excellent," Ramsay clapped his hands together and moved from the cross, his hand moving to take hold of Isabelle's hand. "Now, we will go for dinner. I think there is some rabbit for tonight."

...

Catelyn Stark had never seen her son look so worried. She had never seen him as anxious as he was at that moment in time. Robb was pacing up and down inside of his tent, waiting for his mother to deliver the terms which would allow him to cross the Twins. The support of Walder Frey was not something which Robb wanted, but he knew that he needed it.

But it was when his mother had delivered the terms when Robb felt as though the Old Gods and the New had turned against him. He had never felt so deflated. What more bad luck could come his way? It was when Catelyn delivered the final blow when he felt himself grow lightheaded;

"And you are to marry one of his daughters."

Roose Bolton had been stood to the side, doing his best to remain inconspicuous. He didn't particularly want to converse with Lord Robb. The young wolf was jumped up and full of his own self confidence. Roose knew that it would be his downfall. That and the girl he was currently lusting after. But he could scarcely concern his smirk as he heard Catelyn speak and saw Robb storm from the tent.

"Robb!" Catelyn called after her son, running from the tent to see Robb storming through the encampment. She wondered where he was heading to as she continued to yell his name. She ignored him as he came into the open area of woods, the darkness of the night engulfing him. It wasn't until she heard his sword hitting against wood did she moved over to him, narrowing her eyes for a better view in the dark.

"Robb," she spoke his name again in a softer tone. "Stop this...it will do no good..."

"No," Robb yelled back, "nothing will do any good! She has gone! She has been taken from me and I am powerless to stop it...and now...now you tell me that I have to marry a Frey!"

"You only have to marry if you want to pass."

"And I have to pass," Robb snapped back, his blade hitting the trunk of the sword. "I have to pass to save father and the girls, don't I? That is my duty...it is my duty to marry one of them...I've known for years that I could never be with Isabelle...we both knew it, but not for once did I think that she would be of noble birth...and married to Ramsay Snow..."

Catelyn sighed, the noise soft whilst she saw her son slip his sword into the ground beneath them. His hand remained on the hilt of the weapon, his head bowed and it was only then when she saw him begin to cry. She didn't think that she had ever seen him look so scared or worried. She moved closer to him, her hand running down his back before she hugged him tightly.

"I cannot promise you that it will get easier with time," Catelyn whispered to her son. "I cannot make that promise to you...but you need to know that it could happen. She may be the woman who you truly love-"

"-This isn't about marrying her," Robb interrupted, stepping out of his mother's arms. "This is about her being stuck with Ramsay Snow where I know she isn't safe."

Catelyn shook his head as he heard him speak and then she held him again as he began to allow tears to roll down his eyes one more time.

...

Sleeping besides Ramsay brought her no comfort like it had done with Robb. Her nightgown covered her body whilst Ramsay's arm draped over her waist and his snores echoed around the room. Her eyes remained open wide, set on the only candle inside of the room. Its light flickered and something about it transfixed Isabelle.

It wasn't until there was a loud knock on the door did Ramsay stir from his sleep.

"My Lord!"

Isabelle remained where she was whilst Ramsay sat up, dressed in his breeches whilst his chest remained bare. He ignored Isabelle as she pushed herself to her elbows, turning her eyes to the side so that she could look to him. Ramsay opened the door, doing his best to shake himself from the sleepy state he found himself in.

"What?" Ramsay snarled.

"We found twelve men trying to sneak into the Dreadfort," the man said and Isabelle's brows furrowed as Ramsay held the door open and then narrowed his eyes. "Six are dead but the other six are in the dungeons now."

"Who are they?"

"Stark men. We caught one who had crippled himself during the battle," the guard continued and Isabelle stood up from the bed, her feet cold against the stone floor. She held onto the bedpost, waiting for Ramsay to turn back into the room. "He gave up his identity before we stabbed him in the chest. What would you have us do with the men in the dungeon?"

"Leave them there for the night," Ramsay spoke and Isabelle could sense the glee on his face. "I will punish them in the morning."

"And do you wish for us to send word to Lord Bolton?"

"No!" Isabelle snapped out.

Her word lingered in the air before Ramsay turned his head over his shoulder, looking at Isabelle as she stood there. He couldn't help but smirk at the sight of her. She looked like the innocent virgin dressed in her white nightgown with her blonde hair falling down her face. Her eyes were wide and he could see her bottom lip quivering.

"I shall deal with that," Ramsay promised his guard and slammed the door in his face, locking it again.

Isabelle remained still whilst Ramsay turned back to look at her. "And you would have me let Robb Stark get away with this treatment?" Ramsay checked. "I assume he sent men to bring you back to him...to take what is mine, Eleanor."

"I know," Isabelle replied, "but you know what would happen if you told your father. He would withdraw his support from Robb."

"It is more than he deserves," Ramsay replied, smirking and wondering how he could have some fun with Isabelle about this. He would find a way to torture her even further. "And if the men had succeeded-"

"-I would not have gone," Isabelle interjected, not entirely knowing if she was being honest with herself. "I know that you would have killed Merika...I would not have done it, Ramsay."

Looking unconvinced, Ramsay moved closer towards her and placed his hands on her cheeks, his thumb roaming the skin around her cheekbones slowly. She closed her eyes for a few moments, wondering how Robb could have been so foolish as to send men to the Dreadfort. Did he not know what they said about it?

"And what would you do?" Ramsay whispered. "How badly do you wish to keep Robb Stark alive?"

"I will do anything," Isabelle said without a moment of hesitation and Ramsay couldn't help but wonder why she never offered him the same kind of dedication. "Please...Ramsay..."

Nodding, Ramsay took hold of her hand inside of his; "You will write a letter to Robb Stark and demand that he leave you alone. You are mine, Eleanor. Make sure he knows that."

She was deeply aware that Robb would not believe anything she wrote, especially words declaring her true devotion to Ramsay.

"Yes," Isabelle said and tried to move away, only for Ramsay to grab her wrist with his other hand.

He shook his head back and forth, a sinister smile on his face as he did so. He bent down to kiss her quickly on the lips, the motion harsh and he moved her hand down his body. She remained silent as Ramsay pulled away from her and watched as he moved her hand down to his crotch.

"Did you think that it would be that easy?" Ramsay wondered. "Robb Stark has committed a crime, Eleanor. Did you think that a letter would be enough? Honestly?"

"What do you want?" Isabelle responded as his hands went to her nightgown, tugging at the sleeves on her shoulders. He pulled the material down, watching as it pooled to her waist and then to her feet, revealing her bare form to him.

"I want an heir," Ramsay told her. "I may be a bastard, but my father will soon realise that I am his only living heir. I want an heir to succeed me and it is your duty as a wife to provide me with that."

Isabelle kept quiet as Ramsay tucked her hair behind her ear, his eyes moving down her naked body and he felt himself grow with need of her. It was something that he used to feel every time he saw her. Isabelle nodded at him, realising that she had to do anything he said to keep Robb's forces from abandoning him.

"I want your legs open whenever I demand it," Ramsay told her, the back of his hand moving down her hair. "I want you to obey my every command. I want you not to question me."

"You already demanded that when I saw you flay Merika," Isabelle reminded him and Ramsay squeezed her chin tightly, his teeth bared as he smiled at her.

"Then consider this a second warning," Ramsay replied. "Now lay on the bed like a good little wife."

...

A/N: So thank you to all the followers of this story! And to Steffh6 for reviewing! Not many people seem to be reviewing, but I won't let that stop me from writing the story but a few reviews would be nice to be honest!