Hey guys, sorry for the long wait. I have not abandoned any of my stories, but I have had less time for working on all of my projects in between work and my third year in college. Worry not, I will continue to update this story and others as I get more free time this summer. Enjoy!

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 12 - Run from Innocence

"It will grow back, my dear," Ramsay teased for nearly the tenth time that morning. He had to admit, despite being quite the patient man, he was growing ever so aggravated with all of Eve's wasted fussing. It wasn't as if she had to worry over appearances. Her body was his to do with as he pleased, and it was currently in no need of her girlish attempts at preservation. He rolled his eyes in spite as she failed to respond to his taunt, staring in silent shock at her reflection. Of all the things that had happened to her, she was worrying over a matter so trivial. Women. Ramsay scoffed before turning his back and retreating to the table at the far end of the bedchambers, temporarily leaving the girl to her vexing behaviors in peace.

Eve frowned at the reflection in the mirror. A bruised and scratched face stared back at her with a bewildered expression as her hands shakily rose to touch her newly cut hair. It was shorter than it had ever been in her entire life, the curls sitting awkwardly above her collarbone. It felt lighter, freer—scarier. All these years Ramsay had not once let her cut or even braid the long locks and now that the burdensome length was suddenly gone she felt free and terribly exposed all at once. The wound on her patched-up ankle remained in terrible pain, yet she could not help but discount it, twisting and turning her head in awe at the short-haired young woman in the mirror. The curls bounced with every shift of her head, causing a small smile to tug at her previously downturned lips. Perhaps she would not grow her hair back to its former length. Eve continued to turn her head to each side, watching with a smile as the flaxen locks freely swished back and forth.

Ramsay watched on in mild amusement as Eve entertained herself with her newly chopped locks. The blonde quickly swished her curly mop of hair back and forth, much like a hound would after an encounter with water. In that moment, he wondered if the girl had also taken a blow to the head in the forest as well. At least she was smiling instead of bursting into tears over the less than ideal change…Although he wouldn't mind the latter—he loved hearing the distinct notes of all her noises. Standing from his chair, he approached the smiling young girl, his ominous figure appearing in the mirror behind her, blue eyes locking onto hers in the reflection.

"You seem happy," He stated simply with a pleased smirk of his own. Eve snorted under her breath as Ramsay gently pulled at a curl before releasing it, causing it to recoil playfully. She bit her lip before her eyes wandered to her lap. She frowned as her eyes met the deep scratches that traced her arms before exhaling shakily.

"I would like to keep it this length…" She slowly glanced up at Ramsay's reflection in the mirror, nervously awaiting his response. She froze, watching as his hands furtively moved to her neck in the mirror. His warm fingers traced the beginnings of her spine and she shivered at the deep chuckle which rumbled from behind her.

"I rather like it," A single finger trailed down the exposed flesh at the nape of her neck, sending another jolt through her frame. Eve flinched away from the unsettling sensation, wondering whether Ramsay was being earnest or merely teasing.

"Really?" She clenched the fabric of her dress, praying that Ramsay's wandering hand would retreat. She desperately wanted to rise from her seat and flee the room, but fear and a small spark of dark curiosity kept her tethered in place, almost excitedly awaiting Ramsay's next move.

"Really," Ramsay whispered playfully, hot breath tickling the nape of her neck before he withdrew with a dark chuckle. She sighed in relief, not possessing the strength to deal with Ramsay's spontaneous advances. An unexpected feeling of disappointment stirred within her chest despite the relief. Did she truly want Ramsay to have his wicked way? After years of avoiding it and praying that she would escape such acts, did she really want Ramsay to have her body? She grit her teeth in silence, not knowing what was left in life under such circumstances.

"It suits you well, my darling girl," His hands gently rested on her shoulders with an unexpected innocence. They were strangely warm and reassuring, and Eve's eyes fluttered shut as her tense body relaxed under Ramsay's touch. Perhaps Ramsay was capable of more than cruelly playing with and hurting people. The thought was cut short as those unassuming hands slowly snaked under the hem of her dress.

"Ramsay!" Eve choked out, attempting to shuffle away from the man's sudden intrusion into her garments. The nerve of him! She watched the mirror's reflection as Ramsay rolled his eyes in slight annoyance and smirked before his hands further disappeared beneath her dress. Another warm breath caressed her ear as Ramsay leaned beside her neck with a toothy grin.

"My patience would put a Maester to shame…" He whispered with a low chuckle. Eve jumped from her seated position when Ramsay's fingers suddenly grasped a bare breast from beneath the fabric of her gown. His grip was firm yet gentle and he buried his nose into the crook of her neck before he inhaled deeply.

"But I will have you," He hissed out, turning Eve around, the sudden movement nearly knocking her into his chest. She came face to face with the man, his eyes wild.

Ramsay leaned forward, warm lips dusting against her cheeks, a smile escaping her despite the lingering awareness of his less than innocent intentions. She felt his lips curve before they moved down to gently caress the faint dimples which rose from either end of her smile. Such a display was conflicting; Ramsay's fleeting gentleness made her believe there was something more to him than his monstrous cruelty. He could be so utterly gentle and caring when it suited him...but such nature in Ramsay was like the flicker of a candle, so faint you could miss it if your eyes were not carefully watching the dangerous flames.

"Shall I kiss your cheeks more often, my dear?" His voice teased lowly, Eve attempting to hide her growing smile at Ramsay's cheeky tone. She was well aware of the situation—she should not have been smiling at the brewing excitement which emanated from Ramsay's predatory form. She should have been running away, shrieking to all of the Northern houses for help at the top of her lungs...Yet she could not bring herself to do so when her eyes met Ramsay's. They were endlessly cold, blue and hostile and absolutely seething with violent passion...Yet they also burned with a love so merciless that his very gaze threatened to further corrupt her heart.

It was then that a loud boom from the chamber's door broke Eve from the mesmerizing blue of the young Bolton's gaze. Ramsay hissed in annoyance before turning towards the closed door.

"Leave," He barked out in the direction of the knocking. How courteous of the sorry wretch outside to disturb his painstaking progress. At this pace, he would be a name on a tombstone without ever having taken the conquest of his lifetime to bed. He had the girl's heart, but he had been waiting seven whore-filled years to properly seal the deal and claim her pretty little maidenhead.

Some shuffling sounded from the outer hallway before a reluctant voice spoke from the other side of the thick wooden door.

"Lord Bolton calls for you at the gates...Lady Stark makes way for Winterfell," Ramsay abruptly froze at those words, clenching his teeth before pulling away from Eve. It was as he said—he was a patient man indeed.

"I have matters that require my attention," At once his tone had become serious. And with that, the devilish hands drifted from the confines of her dress as he left her sitting alone before the mirror, shamefully missing the warmth of his touch. Eve shivered at the chilling and wicked smile which Ramsay had worn in the glass reflection of the mirror before he left her alone in the chambers. It was a very familiar smile—one which spread on the man's face before blood was shed. Eve frowned. One of the Starks had returned to Winterfell...and Eve prayed to all the Gods above that this Lady Stark in question would move on before more blood was shed within the solemn walls of Winterfell…

Ramsay stood eagerly at the front gates of Winterfell, his father and all the Bolton men lined up to greet the incoming Stark bitch and her party. From the corner of his eye, he watched in amusement as his father gave him a stern look—a silent warning to be on his best behavior. He grinned at his father's lack of faith in him. As if he would give himself away before he was wed to the girl. No, he would wait until the wedding night to truly play his games. Until then, he would play the role of charming young lord his father clearly did not expect him to be.

Ramsay grinned—entertaining the pampered Stark girl would hardly be a challenging feat. Protecting Eve, however, would not be such a simple task. He met his father's worn countenance with a false smile. Ramsay knew the old man thought of his toy as a pest with the impending marriage. Regardless of marriage, Ramsay would sooner kill his "beloved" father before being denied the company he desired. He was far too gone to be parted from the girl now, for he had grown too fond of her company throughout their years together. As for Roose Bolton...it was certainly high time a better name seized control of the North...

The deceitful smile spread further across Ramsay's face as his father's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"May I introduce my son, Ramsay Bolton," His father moved aside to reveal the stony countenance of Lady Sansa Stark. She looked so anxious, already worn down by the hateful world as she rubbed her hands together and donned an empty smile. He rather liked that sorry look. Yet there was a glimmer of hope in her crystalline eyes—a strange flame of fighting courage that obstinately remained in her stony gaze. He would truly enjoy finishing the world's job and burying any flicker of hope left alive in the foolish Stark girl.

"It's an honor to meet you, my Lady," Ramsay greeted, reaching down with a wide smile to kiss the back of her cold hand. He could only imagine the pleasure he would derive in ruining the girl. Yes—he would give her the warmest of Bolton welcomes.

Perhaps if Ramsay had not returned to the bedchambers in such an elated state, Eve would not have been thrust into the current situation. Perhaps if Winterfell had never been taken by the Boltons in the first place, Eve would not currently be filling Lady Sansa's wine glass as Ramsay sat smirking happily in his seat at the grim dining table. Eve poured the dark red liquid shakily into Lady Sansa's glass, her eyes welling with unshed tears at the act of being so cruelly paraded in front of Ramsay's intended.

Ramsay had appointed her as Lady Sansa's personal servant under the false pretense that she was merely a handmaiden and nothing more. Eve was beyond livid at Ramsay for doing such a heartless thing. She knew he found some sick joy in seeing her serve the young woman who would soon be his bride—she had come to expect as much from Ramsay. But what truly hurt was that Lady Sansa was a genuine beauty to behold. Eve found herself jealous of the Lady before her. Lady Sansa had noble blood along with a refined state of grace and beauty…

Lady Sansa had everything she did not possess. To make matters worse, soon Lady Sansa would also be bound to Ramsay by the vows of marriage. She hoped Ramsay choked on his wedding vows. She felt wretched for having such thoughts towards an entirely innocent woman over such a monstrous man...But that monstrous man was all she had in the world.

A small tear managed to escape the corner of her eye and she furiously lifted her hand to wipe away its shining presence. She refused to be caught crying before Ramsay and his family as she helped Theon—or Reek, as Ramsay hatefully insisted—serve their meal. In that moment, she wanted to strangle Ramsay, but that would likely widen the detestable smirk upon his pleased face. He made her so hateful...and she currently despised him for it.

Ramsay comfortably leaned back in his chair, glancing over at Eve as he casually sipped his wine. He watched in mild amusement as his darling blonde ungracefully poured the Stark beauty some wine. Perhaps they could all be friendly together in a nice, warm bed? A hidden smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth from behind his wineglass when he noted how large the pitcher of wine looked in her struggling arms. She was so soft and so weak. He should have hated such weakness, but he loved her and her gentle nature alone. It made him want to tease her all the more. With a quick glance to his father, he briefly lowered his glass from curved lips.

"Reek, more wine please! It would seem Lady Sansa's new servant cannot accommodate the size of such a...large pitcher," He beckoned with a smug look as the trembling Greyjoy man rounded the corner into the dining room carrying a fresh pitcher of wine. How Eve wanted to toss the pitcher at Ramsay and curse him for bringing attention to her. His taunting and dismissive tone only furthered her painstaking humiliation. Certainly, he was putting on a show before his father and the Lady Sansa, but that did not justify his pleased smirk. She angrily moved away from the dining table with her large pitcher, favoring the view of the dull grey floor.

Ramsay stole a quick glance at the brooding blonde, hiding his smirk at her obvious discomfort. Surely his father would not believe he gave the girl special treatment after this display? He shrugged the thought away momentarily as his eyes landed on the form of his quivering man-servant. His presence in Winterfell made the arranged marriage to the Stark girl all the more sweet. He could use the creature to further torment the noble Lady Stark.

"I heard you two had been...reunited. A fitting place for it," Ramsay's words cut through the heavy silence as Reek dutifully filled the wine glasses. Lady Sansa's jaw seemed to tighten at his words, but she maintained her stoic silence. Clever girl. But clever was such a bore.

"Are you still angry with him after he…" Ramsay momentarily feigned distraught, his eyes betraying any sympathy in their intrigued brightness, "What he did?"

The room grew more tense as Lord Bolton and Lady Walda looked toward Lady Sansa for her response. The red-headed Northerner seemed almost detached from the inquiry as she stared down at the dining utensils. Her silence was almost as unnerving as Ramsay's cruel presentation of the subject. Ramsay grit his teeth, not receiving the tearful response he had wanted from the Stark girl. He smiled once more, pushing further at the silent redhead beside him.

"Not to worry, I punished him for it...He's a new man...Aren't you, Reek?" He looked towards the shaking man who remained still beside the table with the fresh pitcher of wine, failing to notice Eve look up from her spot in the corner of the dining room. She now watched the scene before her with watering eyes, remembering just how Ramsay had broken the proud young Kraken at the Dreadfort and the gruesome scene she had been forced to witness that day.

"Yes, master," The weakened words spilled from the mouth of the Greyjoy as he trembled in fear under Ramsay's gaze. Not even Lord Bolton cut into his meal as he watched his son torment the unfortunate creature before his bride to be and company.

"Why are you doing this?" Lady Sansa finally spoke up, clear distaste in her sharp words as she glared over at the young Bolton man. Eve felt a jolt of hope as the young woman stood up to Ramsay's unsavory games. Perhaps the wedding would not take place and nobody would be hurt...and her heart would not be further broken.

"Because Reek has something to say, don't you Reek? Apologize to Lady Sansa for what you did...Apologize for murdering her two brothers…" Ramsay ruthlessly lied, relishing the pained look on the Stark bitch's face at the mention of her younger siblings. He never quite understood the fuss about siblings— if you weren't supposed to harm or fuck them, then what purpose did they serve other than being threats to the eldest heir? Perhaps the Lannisters had the right idea.

"I-I'm sorry," Head bowed and quivering fiercely, the former young Lord of the Iron Islands twitched out a terrified apology. It was music to Ramsay's ears.

"I have a wonderful idea! Reek, you will give away the bride. What better person?" he exclaimed before directing his gaze towards the opposite end of the table. How fitting it would be for a traitorous mongrel to give away the Northern wolf-bitch.

"Good?" He met his father's stern gaze, his smile growing at the older man's clear disapproval of his behavior.

"Yes, yes, very good. Walda and I have some good news as well…since we're all together," Ramsay's smile died as his father gestured to the portly woman beside him. She smiled with a light blush.

"We're going to have a baby," She announced shyly, maternal excitement lacing her voice. Ramsay's jaw clenched.

Eve watched on anxiously, the table more silent than a graveyard as everyone awaited his response. Although Ramsay's smile had faded, there was no immediate reaction, and it was like watching a fire slowly roar to life from unassuming embers.

"I'm very happy for you," Lady Sansa turned her nervous gaze from Ramsay and politely congratulated them. Eve shivered, noticing Ramsay grip his wineglass tightly, his knuckles white from the pressure.

"From the way she's carrying, Maester Wolkan says it looks like a boy," Lord Bolton fanned the invisible embers, addressing Ramsay with a triumphant smirk of his own.

It was Lady Sansa's turn to smile faintly as Lord Bolton's words shut Ramsay down, the man numbly taking a large sip of his wine. Eve and Reek shook from their corner of the dining room, knowing well that the embers were slowly roaring into a fire within the vengeful man. Winterfell would soon be met with the sight of more bloodshed…

"Fucking old fuck!" Ramsay ran his arm across the table, violently sending various metal platters and assortments across the bedchambers. They harshly hit the stone walls and floor, clattering as the man raved and rampaged like a mad dog. Eve cowered in the bed on the other side, hugging her knees to herself in a meager attempt to escape the enraged attention of Ramsay. She did not want to share the same fate as those platters which were now sadly scattered across the floor.

"How is it that old cunt even managed to get it up, much less in that Frey bitch?" His pacing halted as he clutched the sides of the now barren table.

"Fuck them all!" In a fraction of a second the table was laying sideways, left flipped by Ramsay as he moved on to destroy what little furnishings remained of the already ruined chambers.

Terrified by Ramsay's foul temper, Eve carefully pulled the bed furs over herself, trying to keep out of sight and hopefully out of the rampant storm that was the furious young Bolton. Another loud crash sounded, and she closed her eyes in her hiding place as she shakily listened to Ramsay's heavy boots pacing across the floor in search of more things to knock around. Her heart beat with every step, sweat forming on her brow when she heard them approaching the bed. Please don't notice me...She held in a whimper as she heard the steps close in at the end of the bed, slowing as they came nearer and nearer.

And then the pacing of boots stopped all together, leaving the bedchambers in utter silence. Eve held her breath, hoping that it would deter Ramsay from noticing her beneath the somewhat safe covers of the bed. Please just go away, go away…

"Let's play a game," The voice was nothing more than a spiteful hiss, but it was enough to make Eve squeak in terror as the man behind it tore the furs from the bed to reveal her balled up form. To make matters worse, said man was smiling ear to ear at the foot of the bed, the surrounding ruins of his previous tantrum enough evidence to warrant her fear upon seeing such an excited expression. Ramsay was far too riled up...and she wanted no part in whatever games he was so fervently suggesting.

"No," She glared at Ramsay, hugging her knees tighter in an attempt to demonstrate her obstinance. The dark look which flashed in Ramsay's blue gaze upon her denial told her that she was walking a very fine line between entertaining the man and becoming the one to fulfill his blood-lust.

"No…?" Blue eyes tested her with slight intrigue.

"No."

With a sigh, Ramsay took a step closer to the foot of the bed, his predatory gaze locked onto her. Eve watched him warily as she tightened her grip on her knees, balling up as far from his potential reach as possible. A depraved grin spread across his face at her amusingly defensive reaction.

"Not even a fun game?" He took another step forward, his knee bending as he rested it on the edge of the bed. Eve shook her head fiercely, not sure if staying put and denying him was the best option. Ramsay looked ready to shift towards her at any given moment, and she now cursed her poor judgement.

Ramsay watched the blonde before him with mild interest. She had blatantly refused him despite his obvious...mood. Had she grown balls beneath that dress of hers, or did she actually sustain some damage to her head from her little excursion in the forest? Or perhaps she was flowering? He snickered, breaking the silence before moving himself across the mattress towards the girl.

"I think someone is having her blood," Without warning, he lifted the hem of her dress to peek beneath. He frowned, not able to see anything over her legs or scraped knees.

Eve's eyes nearly flew out of her head as Ramsay invaded her space, his hands unsuccessful in their attempts at lifting her skirts and prying her legs apart.

"What are you doing?" She wanted to sound fierce, but her throat was tight, leaving her question nothing more than an accusatory gasp. His warm palms spread across her kneecaps as he gave them a pat.

"Spreading your legs," He commented plainly, growing impatient with her newfound defiance. Eve looked at him in disbelief. He had humiliated her in the dining chambers and had done nothing but ignore her since Lady Sansa had arrived in Winterfell. What games was he playing? Against her better judgement, she scowled harder at the man, slapping his hands away from her before she shot up from the bed.

"Go spread the legs of your intended," The thoughtless words escaped in a hiss as she dashed over to the door. Her hands clasped the metal handle and pulled, the door hardly budging as her mistake slowly sank in. The door was locked. She was trapped.

Turning from the cursed door, she saw Ramsay merely remained perched on the edge of the bed as he watched her with interest. He burst into a spine-chilling chuckle, but made no move to stand from his seated position. With a furrowed brow, she nervously watched him wipe faint tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes as he took pleasure in the sight of her self-wrought predicament. She tested the door again, reaching behind her in another desperate attempt to escape the bedchambers. Ramsay heard the door tremor with her continuous effort, and he settled down from his fit of amusement to watch her once more.

"Come back here, you silly girl," Ramsay's smile remained, but his eyes held a more sinister assertion.

Eve shakily sighed in defeat, knowing that the door would not open merely because she so desperately wished it. She took a step forward, her head stubbornly lowered as she looked at anything but Ramsay. Seeing his expression would only further inspire fear in her already trembling heart. This must have been what a cornered animal felt like when caught.

"Faster now, before I decide to slit your pretty little throat," Ramsay laughed as the threat left his lips, knowing he would never follow through, but absolutely relishing in the terrified pitter-patter of Eve's feet against the stone floor as she hastened her pace at his command. Despite her irritating defiance earlier, he was more than happy with the girl. She was infernally snapping at him regardless of fear because of jealousy—sweet, vulnerable jealousy. He grinned at the thought. Perhaps an envious Eve would be more...open-minded? He twitched in excitement at the sight of her standing before him, her head cast down.

Reaching out, he gripped her sides, pulling her trembling body towards his on the bedside. His hands slid down to meet her fleshy bottom as he hoisted her onto his lap. Eve looked up at Ramsay, the urge to spew out a series of apologies apparent in her parted lips and worried eyes. Ramsay hushed her before she could speak.

"I know how sorry you are...show me..." His hands lightly trailed up her sides as his smile grew, his eyes lazily roving over her body.

"Show me how much you love me..." He whispered, his hands traveling down to rub her thighs which now shook at the sides of his lap. With one final look of encouragement, he lay back on the bed, a flushed Eve now sitting atop him with an uncertain expression. He gazed up at her, his hands further rubbing at the soft flesh of her exposed thighs.

Eve paused, looking down at Ramsay as he patiently waited for her to do something. But what was she supposed to do? She wanted to impress him somehow, to show him that she was better than Lady Sansa. Unsure, she did the only thing she could think of. Leaning down, she chastely pressed her lips against Ramsay's. She felt his lips turn up at her kiss and she pulled away, searching his eyes to see if she was doing it right.

"Good. But you could do better than that…" He teased with a bored look, waiting for the impressionable girl to take the bait. And take the bait she did...

Fury burned within Eve as she leaned forward once more, this time viciously biting down on Ramsay's bottom lip. Ramsay hissed in pleasure, his lip stinging as the scorned girl drew blood. He groaned, his cock pulsing as she shifted in his lap.

Eve paused at the sound, looking down at Ramsay's contorted face and wide blue eyes. In her mind, she decided she quite liked the unguarded expression on the man. She gave one experimental bounce on his lap, feeling his lower region grow even harder against her inner thighs as his teeth grit against his own bleeding lip with another low hiss. Growing confident with Ramsay's reactions, she curiously rolled her hips to gently grind on the hardness beneath her, enjoying the way Ramsay's hands flew up to grip her sides as he thrust up to meet the warmth between her legs. Pleased with her success, she continued to move her hips, blushing as she enjoyed the view of Ramsay writhing beneath her, his lips red with blood and his wild blue eyes closed. Marriage vows or not, surely Lady Sansa could never do that.

"Fuck," Ramsay cursed in a shiver as the bouncing blonde stopped moving. The heat between her legs seethed through the fabric of his clothes like a pyre—and how he craved to be burned within it. A growl escaped his throat, and he gripped her hips hard, driving their clothed lower bodies together once more. Eve yelped in shock as Ramsay moved her on his own before he slammed her hips down a final time, his body heaving and eyes shut tight as he hissed and sucked in his breath. Eve watched in morbid fascination, feeling warm and strange between her legs but too intrigued with Ramsay's pleasantly twisted face to think anything of it. She had done that to him.

His eyes opened to see the girl hovering above him, her cheeks dusted pink and mossy eyes wide as she chewed her bottom lip in an attempt to contain a proud smile.

Without uttering a single word, the girl leaned down to plant another chaste kiss on Ramsay's lips. She pulled away, licking away the blood which had transferred onto her own pout with the most endearing of smiles.

"That is how much I love you, Ramsay…" And with a look of realization, the warm and soft blonde flew off of him and into the adjacent bath chambers in an embarrassed retreat, leaving Ramsay laying on the bed alone with a white hot mess in his trousers.

The shock quickly faded and he lifted himself up with a wide grin. Blue eyes burned with a new-found enthusiasm. Eve had sealed her fate the moment she gave him more than a kiss—the moment she let her innocence slip through her virtuous grasp. She ran away from the inevitable, but he loved a good chase. Ramsay's mouth spread into a wild grin—he would happily be the vile sin nipping at her heels.

Whew, I don't really feel sorry for Ramsay for still having to wait to finally bed Eve...as much as I wish he wasn't, he's plays with many people, and I'm still waiting for the right moment to scare you guys with it...Not going to lie, I'm kind of scared of Ramsay as a character too(especially in the books), but my attraction to the character's actor just twists that...On a related note, some of you have asked me who my favorite Game of Thrones guy is...it's Jon Snow, the complete opposite of Ramsay Bolton. I feel like my heart sings for the well-meaning and tragic character of Jon Snow. If any of you read this, feel free to respond with your favorite GOT man (I won't judge even if you say Walder Frey). Feel free to message me or comment if you have written any GOT or Ramsay fanfictions! I love reading Game of Thrones fanfictions, especially with OC characters. Thank you so much, guys! The next chapter will include a much anticipated wedding. I also can't wait to include Reek and Sansa some more in future chapters. On a side note, this chapter's title and themes were mainly based on the songs "Girls Your Age" by transviolet and "Calling Me" by Aquilo.