Robb read the letter the raven had brought him, the grotesque words hitting him hard. He continued to read through them, doing his best not to sound utterly and completely repulsed by them. There was no escaping the fact that matters were worse than he had initially thought. He sat in his chamber in the Twins, giggling women moving down the corridor, their noises audible from behind his wooden door.

He was set to marry a Frey in the next coming days. The guilt inside of him was clear. Robb wanted nothing more than to place the letter in his pocket and go after Isabelle. That would make him feel so much better. But his mother continuously reminded him that he had a duty to perform. He had a war to win and the war did not revolve around Isabelle.

"Robb," his mother's voice came from the door. "The ceremony is being discussed. Have you changed yet?"

Sighing, Robb remained sat at the desk and picked out a piece of parchment he had demanded a maid bring to him. He ignored his mother and refused to unlock the door as she continued to knock gently, obviously not wanting to make a scene.

"Robb, you are my son and I know what is going through your mind," she promised him. "I know that you are more than likely sat in there reading through that damn letter. I know that you are hurting and this marriage will do nothing to ease your pain."

Robb picked up the quill and looked down to the parchment. What words could he write? Could he write them without having them intercepted by Ramsay? The chances were that he would read everything Isabelle received. There truly was no way to get to her.

...

"Are you trying to hurt me more than you already have?" Isabelle wondered from Ramsay the following morning as he dressed in front of her. She remained seated in the bed, clutching the sheets which covered her body to her chest. Ramsay looked to his wife, her blonde curls matted around her hair and her eyes were drooping downwards.

"And why would I wish to do that, my love?" Ramsay wondered. "I was gentle with you last night, was I not? Has that not proven my loyalty towards being kind to you?"

He was right about one part. Ramsay had taken her the previous night, but he had not been rough. This time he had decided on slow and cruel torture, taking his time to have her. Isabelle didn't know which part was worse. She didn't know whether she preferred his pretence at kindness, or his true and harsh self.

"Our attendance at this wedding is not needed and you know that," Isabelle spat out, truly disgusted with Ramsay and his plan.

"That is where you are wrong," Ramsay replied and sat back down on her side of the bed once he had laced his breeches. He moved his hand to her cheek, his fingers tickling down the side of her skin before they came to the top of the sheet which sat against her chest. "The marriage of a King is important and my father thought it polite if we attended. Now, we ride to Winterfell this morning to root out Theon Greyjoy and then once he has been captured...well...we ride for the Twins."

"I don't want to go," Isabelle complained to him and Ramsay arched a mocking brow at her.

"You don't want to go?" he taunted. "Why? Is it because you're scared you'll have Robb Stark between your legs again; that you will become his whore?"

Keeping quiet, Isabelle looked over Ramsay's shoulder as he bent down to kiss her on her plump lips, ravishing the taste of her as she felt his hand move to grope at her breast. He did his best to get a response from her, but she knew he was wasting his time. He seemed to know it too as he pulled back and looked her in the eye.

"Get ready and pack a trunk," he demanded from her. "We leave as soon as possible."

...

Ramsay had not been foolish enough to give Isabelle her own horse. He knew better than to do that. He kept her with him and he had refused her request to bring her handmaiden along on the journey. No, Ramsay kept his wife sat in front of him on his horse, Blood, and he kept his arms securely around her. It was only when night fell did he slip from the creature and turn his head over his shoulder to look at the men who had been following him.

The Boltons were a strong House. Ramsay knew that and he knew that the majority of men behind him would take Winterfell against the lack of ironborn men. It would be an easy feat. The only question then was what he did with the one they called Theon Greyjoy. Robb Stark had demanded his return, but Ramsay had his own thoughs.

He always had done.

"I have four men who will stand guard to watch over you whilst I attend to business," Ramsay informed his wife, slipping down from the horse and offering her his hand. She took hold of it and he grabbed her waist, depositing her on the floor. "You can try to get some sleep whilst I am gone. We ride for the Twins as soon as possible."

"What are you going to do to Theon?" Isabelle suddenly asked him and he arched a brow, wondering why she was so concerned. Truth be known, Isabelle didn't know why she had bothered to ask. She had never particularly liked Theon, but she almost failed to believe he would do something so cruel as to take Robb's home from him.

"Why do you care?" Ramsay wondered back. "Don't tell me you have fucked him too."

Isabelle slipped her leather gloves from her fingers and wandered away from Ramsay; "Believe it or not, you are the only who has fucked me and that is enough to repulse me for the rest of my life."

Ramsay looked at her with a stern gaze, preparing to walk after her and teach her another lesson. He gained no chance as his men wandered over to him, one of them calling for his attention.

"My Lord!"

Ramsay watched Isabelle lean against a tree and fold her arms over her waist. He smirked at the sight of and then began to converse with his men, choosing the four best ones to sit with her and make sure she did nothing to wrong him.

"We round up the ironborn scum!" Ramsay yelled out to the mass behind him. "And then we kill them as only we know how."

Wincing at his words, Isabelle looked away from him as he moved past her, his eyes gleaming with joy. He would enjoy this all too much and she knew it.

...

The shock on Robb's face was evident when he saw her again. Even he could not hide it from his features. He knew that his mother had noticed and his bride to be must have spotted it. Roslin Frey was a pretty girl, Robb could not deny that. She had wide eyes and a pale complexion, everything about her looked innocent. She spoke with pleasantries to him and smiled when it was required of her. She would be sweet and kind, but Robb knew that he would never want her.

His mother had assured her that time would pass and he would grow fond of her, but Robb doubted that. He doubted it even more as he stood in the Grand Hall of the Twins and greeted the Lord and Ladies who had travelled for his wedding.

Walder Frey sat behind the betrothed couple, Catelyn to his side as pleasantries were exchanged.

Robb had grown bored of greeting everyone, his eyes constantly scanning around the room. That was before he saw her. She was stood with her arm dangling off a tall and broad man. Robb's eyes narrowed and he did his best not to appear too shocked.

Isabelle was stood at the back of the Grand Hall, waiting for people to move and greet the lucky couple. Roose Bolton had sauntered over to his son and had inclined his head whilst Ramsay stood tall, his head held high and his arm squeezing tightly around Isabelle's arm.

"Father," he greeted Roose.

"Ramsay," Roose responded. "I trust you did as I had asked you at Winterfell."

Isabelle closed her eyes, knowing that Robb would be infuriated when he found out that Ramsay had burnt down Winterfell. He had refused to tell her what he had done with the Greyjoy boy, but he had failed to find the Stark brothers and the rest of the ironborn men had been slaughtered.

"I did as you asked and had no other option but to kill the ironborn. They refused to surrender," Ramsay lied and Roose regarded him coldly. Isabelle could almost cut the tension between the two men as Roose turned his gaze to her and studied her with the same look of discontent he did his son.

"Lady Eleanor," he drawled out. "How nice it is to see you again."

"Yes, my Lord," Isabelle replied as Roose took hold of her hand and dryly kissed the back of it.

"Doesn't she look ravishing?" Ramsay checked, his arm swooping from her arm to loop around her waist, his lips kissing her forehead forcefully.

Isabelle had changed from her riding gown into a red gown decorated with fine golden thread in the shape of flowers. She had managed to comb through her hair and it hung limply down her back in curls. She was pale, but that was due to nerves. She had not dared look to the front of the room, knowing full well that Robb would be stood there and it would ruin her. She could already feel her heart beating in her chest, the noise occupying her ears and drowning out every other background noise.

"Aye, she does," Roose said. "Every Lord and Lady is here and there have been rumours about the Lady Eleanor's return to you. I thought it important that you make a public appearance and show people that it is true."

"And I cannot think of a better place to do this," Ramsay said, his eyes glancing over to Robb Stark.

The King in the North was an attractive man; there could be no denying that. He was tall and lean, dressed in finery with a mess of curls on top of his head. A beard grew on his chin and he had clear orbs which Ramsay suspected could pierce straight through him if he let it.

"You should go and greet the King in the North and his sweet bride," Roose declared. "We shall speak further at the feast tonight."

"Yes," Ramsay agreed and he took hold of Isabelle's hand and rested it on top of his arm. "Come along, my wife."

Isabelle's fingers gripped Ramsay's arm tightly as they wandered down the middle of the benches in the Hall, until they came to the steps up to the upper platform. It was only then when Isabelle looked up and her eyes met Robb's eyes. She felt her breath hitch in her throat and her eyes instantly begin to water. Robb looked at her with pity and longing and that was enough for Ramsay to begin to speak, a sinister smile on his face as he stepped forwards and held Isabelle's hand forwards.

"My king," Ramsay said and Robb could not even begin to explain how much he detested the sight and sound of Ramsay already. He looked over to Ramsay, both men locking eyes. Robb remained stoic and Ramsay remained entertained.

"May I present to you my wife, Lady Eleanor," Ramsay drawled and then looked to Robb's bride. She was also a very fine looking woman; no doubt an innocent girl like Isabelle had been.

Isabelle remained still, not too sure what she should do. Ramsay glanced back to Isabelle and urged her softly;

"Curtsey to your king, my love," Ramsay urged her and Catelyn stepped forwards, knowing that something was going to happen.

Isabelle picked her skirt up with shaking hands and then dipped into a curtsey and Robb closed his eyes, looking away as he did his best not to draw his sword.

"My lord," Catelyn called out, looking to Ramsay. "I trust that you are Lord Bolton's son?"

"Yes, my lady," Ramsay spoke. "My father thought that it would be honourable to attend this wedding."

Robb didn't take his eyes from Isabelle and she did not take her eyes from him. Both of them pretended that no one else existed in the Hall. It was just them and that was enough. Catelyn placed her hand on her son's shoulder, trying to gain his attention and Roslin remained mute, trying to understand why her betrothed had changed in his demeanour.

"And it is lovely that you attended," Catelyn tried to keep the peace. "Perhaps you can have a servant show you to your chamber? You and your wife must be tired from the long journey. Your father told of us what happened in Winterfell before you arrived."

"Yes," Ramsay said. "Hopefully...well...nothing I can say can take your pain away."

"No," Catelyn agreed with a brief nod.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my king," Ramsay spoke with a smile on his face. "Come along, my wife, we have time to rest before the feast tonight."

Ramsay tried to take Isabelle, but she remained stood where she was. It was difficult for her to remain stood when all she wanted was to wrap her arms around Robb. All she wanted was to hold him to her and he wanted the same thing. Ramsay looked down to Isabelle, his hand turning her chin back to him.

"Eleanor," he whispered her name. "Come along."

She did as he had asked this time, taking his arm and pulling her eyes from Robb as he wrapped his arm around her waist and wandered back from the Hall. He moved his hand to her backside, groping at it for Robb to see.

"Robb," Catelyn whispered to her son and Robb continued to glower at the retreating couple, wishing for nothing more than to take her son into her arms and hold him.

"Is everything alright, your grace?" Roslin asked and Robb looked down to her and shook his head.

"If you'll excuse me, my lady," Robb said and shook his mother's hand from him before rushing from the Hall, leaving everyone gaping after him.

...

A/N: Thanks to anyone reading and please do review to let me know what you think!