Hey guys, you know I won't abandon you. For this chapter, I've put extra "warnings" on it. I'm rolling with it in true Bolton fashion, so good luck. I've been gone for a while due to life and stuff. I'm also working on updating other fanfics and writing new ones for LOTR and Harry Potter. I've been obsessed with Professor Lupin recently and really want to write a story for him since he's a good-guy and I want to write wholesome fluff so bad (I need to cleanse my soul after writing this story haha). Anyway, buckle up as best you can and enjoy.
WARNING WARNING WARNING: This fan fiction contains mature language and mature subject matter including violence, blood, emotionally triggering situations, and sexual situations. Do not read if you are easily disturbed by mature subject matter.
Chapter 14- Defiler's Kiss
The surrounding world narrowed, the corners of Eve's vision black and hazy as she numbly followed the limping Greyjoy through snowy dirt paths and dim stone corridors towards Ramsay's bedchambers. Nerves drowned out her senses and left her body with the sensation of floating forward on a path against her will. Turn back. Turn back now. Her mind chanted frantically, but her legs betrayed such thoughts as they obediently carried her onward towards the certain slaughter of her heart.
"I-I'll b-be o-outside," Theon's shaking words met her ears as he stopped before an imposing set of large wooden doors, knocking with reluctance. Those three knocks seemed to seal her fate. She stopped as well, her body wavering back and forth in the urge to run away, fear the only hostile force keeping her feet firmly planted.
"Enter."
There it was—the muffled, wicked invitation that sounded from within, laced with promises of unknown pain and much, much worse.
In abrupt desperation, Eve silently grasped Theon's arms as he made to open to door. Her grip grew strong as she trembled, her eyes meeting his in a silent plea as she mouthed the word in tears: No.
Theon watched the crying young girl before him in pity, truly looking in her eyes for the first time since Ramsay had…had broken him. Shining eyes begged him, filled with such terror they reflected his own like a harrowing mirror. Short nails dug into the scarred flesh of his arm, their owner frenzied and desperate not to be delivered through those doors. He shook with the guilty realization, his head jerking painfully as his crumpled limbs throbbed and deep scars burned. His entire body screamed with the reminder of his place and he sobbed at his utter helplessness.
"S-sorry…I'm…so—s—sorry," Was all he could muster in response. An apology for his cowardice. His eyes grew rampant with fear as he clumsily opened the latch, jerking his attention away from the innocent girl as her feminine sobs pierced the empty hall upon his denial to help. In the end, he was nothing more than a cowardly creature—a disgusting, pitiful beast. He was Reek.
With that, he ruefully pushed her in like a lamb to slaughter, turning back quickly to retreat and save himself the pain as he caught a glimpse of Sansa standing anxiously within the chambers in her clean white wedding dress. She was truly beautiful. His master was sure to ruin it. He could not bear to witness that.
Ramsay gazed at the jumbled little blonde stumbling into his bedchambers with her head cast down nearly to her toes. Well, this certainly was not how he imagined his perfect wedding night; at the foot of his bed stood a rather grim Stark and at his door a fragmented Greyjoy with his lady love looking like someone had just stolen her cake. It was far from the ideal picture—he had at least hoped for a little more sobbing and screaming. Of course, pleading was also welcome. His grin grew wide as he relished in the uneasy silence—that would soon be amended.
"Oh no no no…You stay here Reek. You watch," He ordered as his servant retreated into the open doorway. Ramsay beckoned Eve further into the chambers by her wrist as he granted her a wide smile—an eerie contrast to the snarl he'd reserved for the craven creature she'd arrived with. Eve could sense Ramsay's cruel exhilaration and nervously glanced back at Theon, the man rigidly sealing the door with his eyes cast aside. Now they were all trapped—at the mercy of Ramsay. A chipper "good" resounded from the Bolton before his attention transitioned to the red-haired Stark near the bed. He fixed her with a severe frown, and Eve reluctantly looked forward only to meet Lady Stark's eyes. She flinched. That gaze remained steadfast in its proudness, but Eve could sense the resignation behind it, for she felt much the same. Eve looked away quickly, instead focusing her attention on Ramsay's broad shoulders which were clad in black leather. There was nothing that could be done now.
"Do not make me ask twice," The lithe and graceful lady of Winterfell blinked solemnly at his menacing smile, her lips pressed in a tight line before she inhaled shakily and dutifully began to unbutton her crisp outer sleeves. Despite the presence of others in the room, she felt utterly alone. A stupid girl blinded by sentiment and a gutless traitor could not put a stop to anything.
Eve's eyes searched between Ramsay and over the corners of the dark chambers in confusion as the lady of Winterfell reluctantly unbuttoned her wedding garment. Ramsay's fingers brushed softly across her hand and the blonde jumped in fright at the unexpected sensation, her gaze shooting up to meet his face. Blue eyes paid her no attention, but instead focused pointedly on the hunched figure at the sealed entrance.
"Reek, I told you to watch. You've known Sansa since she was a girl. Tonight, you will watch her become a woman," Stone walls trapped the taunting command within the room as Reek forced his body to turn. Eve heaved silently upon hearing this, knowing well that Ramsay's word was final, and he always meant every word. If he was to take Lady Stark that night, then her own presence there was no good sign.
She bit back a sob, cursing the existence of weddings—as far as she knew, they were where people went to die. In that moment, she wished to be nothing more than a bug in the dirt. Above all, she yearned to return to their juvenile days where Ramsay would simply avoid her presence. How she wished she were a pudgy little girl once more, running around the Dreadfort with long braids and not a single care. Only in her thoughts, she would not trail after Ramsay. Perhaps that had been her fatal mistake all along. Or perhaps existing in the wrong place had been her inborn fault.
Those grave thoughts were broken as Ramsay cleared his throat with impatience. Eve's attention departed to the hunched figure near the door. Shaking, the Greyjoy man forced himself to look up in obedience at his master's demand.
"Good, you wouldn't want to miss this."
All at once Ramsay's touch moved away from Eve's hand, and the clothed Stark bride was shoved back harshly. Her legs crumpled over the side of the bed as it met her stomach. A pathetic sob escaped the girl as she rose in a desperate attempt to correct herself, only to be met with a true kick to the spine which promptly knocked her face-down onto the firm mattress once more. The dirty imprint of Ramsay's boot now marred the back of her pristine wedding dress. Injured, Sansa sobbed into the furs beneath her and made no further attempts to rise from the bed. I am a Stark of Winterfell. She repeated those words within her mind like a prayer as she lay motionless, her backbones throbbing in pain from the forceful kick. Her dignified visage was ruined, and she now cried freely into very familiar furs. They had been her mother and father's. Now they were both dead. That awareness was even worse than anything previous, and she grasped them tight with a guttural sob.
"Getting bashful on our wedding night, are we?" Ramsay snickered at the novel scene before him—a proud Stark of Winterfell, pathetically lying and absolutely weeping in his bed! Now that was one way to get a girl wet. Facing Eve in excitement, he gently pulled her forward in his grasp.
"Come, now…" With a twirl and a cackle, he maneuvered her into a light embrace. Hands delicately moved a stray curl away from her face which rested in his cold grasp as warm lips met her dewy forehead. She hiccupped under the force of her sobs as the sight of the bed loomed ominously from behind Ramsay, appearing closer and closer as he dragged her towards it. The soles of her flimsy boots slid against the stone floor as her legs cramped up in an attempt to back away.
"Hush…" It was futile, that secure grip continued to tug her forward until her captor stopped at the foot of the bed, blocking the unpleasant view of the whimpering daughter of Eddard Stark. Turning her head, Eve's eyes met the downturned head of Theon, who backed further into his shadowy corner as if he could hear her internal pleas. His head twitched, two dull eyes trapped in their sunken sockets flickering away from her as if to say a sad 'no'. Her jaw clenched shut in acceptance; this was it, whatever Ramsay wanted was going to happen. Her body tensed, large hands wrapping around her waist before slowly skimming up to jerk the buttons apart on her frock.
"Be good for me…" He whispered softly.
The fabric was pulled away from her body, and she stood as rigid as the stone walls surrounding them. It happened so swiftly that she was too stunned to cover her modesty when Ramsay stepped to the side, twirling her around with an elated hum and shoving her half naked body backwards, her dress fully ripping away as he tugged it off her tumbling form. Ramsay cackled as he held the ruined dress, tossing it aside as the stunned girl landed.
"Ouufff!" Sansa cried out breathlessly as Eve's unclothed body crashed down onto her spine. Scrambling to get up, Eve tried her best not to crush the slender back of Lady Stark.
"Ah-ah, not so fast," Ramsay stepped forward, a hard palm spreading out to push down Eve's bare chest. She now lay precariously on top of the downturned Lady of Winterfell who breathed shallowly under the burdensome weight.
"Please, Ramsay…She can't breathe…" Eve squirmed uneasily, shivering as his palm trailed down her breasts to rest at her naked stomach. With a smirk, he quickly pushed down, knocking more air out of the gasping girl beneath her.
"That sounded like a breath to me, silly girl," He leaned down to place an affectionate kiss at her lips, feral blue eyes searching her confused face in amused interest, "Such a tender-hearted thing, aren't you?" He mused before bursting into a fit of abrasive laughter.
"I'm about to fuck Lady Sansa…" Eve winced at the harsh words before Ramsay tutted at her, his fingers swiftly drawing forward like a viper to teasingly pinch one of her nipples. He rolled his eyes as the girl yelped, chuckling at her reaction despite his annoyance. "Air will be the least of Lady Sansa's worries tonight," With a wicked laugh, he wrapped his hands around Eve's waist, forcing more of her weight onto the Stark girl before lifting her ever so slightly. As soon as a relieved gasp escaped his white-clad bride, he pushed Eve down once more, reveling in the sound of the Stark bitch's starved lungs and the delicious sight of Eve's ample breasts bouncing as he manipulated her body. Euphoric, he leaned forward with a mad grin and rumbling snicker to rest his head on her heaving chest, rubbing his cheek against her soft warmth before inhaling, a long blissful sigh escaping through his sharp smile. Sansa continued to gasp for air beneath them, unable to see what was happening.
Eve peered behind Ramsay's black hair as his head nestled against her chest to look at the sealed door in the distance. She could not see Theon past Ramsay, but she knew he was still there. A sliver of foolish hope remained within her; this could all end if he would only help. She looked back down, gasping at the tantalizing blue gaze now fixated on her. Those intense eyes seemed to take control of her very soul. They teasingly beckoned her to touch him. To love him. Traitorous, her hands reached up to stroke the warm head of soft black curls at her bosom. Much to her wonder, a hum escaped the man and his mouth grew into the most brilliant smile she had ever witnessed. All at once she grew confused and mortified, the delight blooming within her betraying everything she should have felt. Shame washed over her as Lady Stark's struggling form shifted beneath her own, prompting her to return to the gruesome reality of it all. This is not happening, this cannot be happening.
"Ram-say," Her voice broke into another sob, and she tore her hands away from his head guiltily. Why was she so stupid?
Another sigh escaped the young Bolton lord, this one far from pleased. Blondes and redheads never mixed well in his bed. It would seem his Eve was no different. His eyes tersely focused past her to scowl down at Lady Stark before he huffed out in irritation.
"Have it your way…" The blue glower softened, a different sort of smile replacing the previously contented one. He gently caressed Eve's face, taking in her softness and wonderfully distressed features. He paused at the hopeful glimmer in her muted green eyes, and scowled within at his weakness for that moony look of hers. "I'll make this quick then, for you my sweet…" His tone was gentle, but Eve could sense the underlying aggravation hidden in his features despite the mellow touch.
"Thank you," She sighed, hoping Ramsay would let her get off of the Lady Stark.
Ramsay smiled at her stupid naivety and gratitude, tapping her pink nose quickly to complete their promise. Well, he'd try to keep his word anyway…He didn't want to see his Eve cry. At least not too much.
Mirthful eyes never abandoning her own, Ramsay reached underneath her naked frame, arms mockingly brushing against her curved hips as he made to tug at Lady Stark's white skirts. Eve gasped in shock as he harshly pulled the dress up, leaving it bundled beneath her exposed bottom like a strange pillow. She yelped, feeling herself sliding backwards at the new angle, hard hands catching her from behind spread knees to secure her in place. With a smirk, Ramsay hauled her towards him, dragging both her and a suffocating Sansa to the very edge of the bed. He rose at the foot of the bed, Eve flushing as her spread legs straddled his upper torso. His hands firmly held her there, and satisfied eyes glanced down to watch where her bare womanhood stroked his clothed frame. He barked out a laugh, turning his head to the corner where Reek stood.
"You won't want to miss this," The words echoed through the room, a viciously provocative threat disguised by a grin as he leisurely unbuckled his pants.
Reek watched on, utterly helpless as his master freed himself and pulled the two stacked girls closer. Sansa's grating cries for air silenced when the Bolton lined himself up with her from behind. Reek shook, watching the scene play out like a nightmare.
"Theo-" Sansa cried out at last, unable to finish as a strangled scream ripped through her throat. Ramsay had thrust his hips forward, forcing himself inside her downturned body. Staring feebly, Reek covered his ears, drowning out the pained sobs.
Eve gasped as Sansa's scream pierced her ears. Feeling betrayed, she glanced up to meet Ramsay's shameless gaze. He had promised. He grinned wildly as he leaned forward to devour her lips in a ravenous kiss. The thrusts continued, as did the terrible shrieks of the bride beneath her, and Eve clung to Ramsay's shoulders as each push jostled her body back and forth. Hands wrapped around her hips, pulling her naked flesh flush against him as he simultaneously fulfilled his wedding duty. Burning tears broke the threshold of Eve's eyelashes as she blinked up to meet blue eyes. He watched her with that animalistic grin, picking up his relentless pace with a knowing chuckle.
"Look at you, participating," He laughed, burying himself in the stiff Stark bitch as Eve clung to him, mouth agape and expression tormented by confusion and horror at the redhead's plight. He continued to fuck his bride, enjoying the way Eve's limbs grew more carefree in his grip with each thrust as she surrendered. Good girl. He beamed down at her in approval. He watched her cheeks redden as she wrapped her pliable legs around his torso with an aroused sigh. Fast learner—at least in a bed.
He laughed crookedly at the visceral blonde and increased his pace before releasing her legs, giving them a quick pat of encouragement and warning. They'd been wrapped so tight against him she could have easily cracked his ribcage in her blind pleasure. As much as he took delight in that prospect, he would have to save that fun for another time. Tonight, he had to be a good husband and squirt an heir into Lady Sansa's womb. He could not deny, however, that this wedding night was turning into a surprising treat. His hands now freely roamed the expanse of Eve's smooth flesh as she writhed and rubbed against the fabric on his midsection, eliciting dulcet mewls all on her own. Ramsay imagined what sounds she would make if it were her maidenhead he was impaling with his hard cock. Would she scream as loud as Lady Sansa? Or would she whine in pleasure through the bloody act?
"Ramsay…" That frustrated whimper was his undoing.
Eve jolted when Ramsay suddenly hoisted her quivering body up off of Lady Stark. He crushed his lips against her own, snarling as he nipped at them to allow his tongue inside. She obliged, and his tongue explored the grooves of her teeth before delving further into her mouth. She gagged at the harsh appendage but couldn't help herself as she tightened her legs around him and ground her hips against his solid body, hoping to relieve the hot sensation blossoming in her lower region. She no longer cared how wrong everything felt. The pressure of his mouth on hers was bruising, but everything become foggy as she focused on the pressure between her legs. Her womanhood slipped wetly against the rough leather of his chest and she felt bliss. Whatever Ramsay's kiss had done to her, she never wanted it to end.
Sansa inhaled deeply, her lungs filling with much needed air as the weight was lifted from her back. A cry wracked through her sore frame as the Bolton man gave a few more vicious thrusts before harshly burying himself within her, a hot rush of fluid staining her insides as he finished with a shudder and growl. Her knuckles grew white as she clutched the furs beneath her, tears staining her raw face. Those furs taunted her as she waited for it all to end, quaking in disgust and humiliation. I am a Stark of Winterfell. She grimaced through the pleasure-filled moans of Ramsay's whore, unsure whether to feel sorry for herself or the girl writhing at the touch of that monster.
Gold hair, red hair, black hair. The screams and moans had faded as Theon watched, bound by the gruesome scene until it came to a petrifying crescendo. White dress, white skin, red blood. Gods forgive me, Gods forgive me. He fell to his bony knees, unsteadily observing the final moments of the dreadful wedding night. The most chilling sight was not the trembling form of Sansa, who was now left abandoned at the foot of the bed with a red-stained wedding gown and crimson thighs, but the bare yet unsullied figure with a golden haze of hair which clung so willingly to Ramsay Bolton. His empty stomach heaved at the guiltless smile which spread across the girl's face as she carelessly returned his merciless master's kiss.
Welcome to the safe zone. If you've made it this far, congrats! What did you originally expect to happen? Joking aside, I wrote this chapter without obvious transitions between POV because I wanted it to be a big messy confusing emotional-feast. You guys probably don't know whose side Eve's going to end up on do you? Will Eve, Reek, and Sansa make a grand escape? Will she become a monster like Ramsay? Will Ramsay ever actually take Eve's virginity?! That's for future chapters…Anyway, I really want to go work on my Remus Lupin fanfiction now because I need a wholesome cuddly breath of fresh air (haha, sorry Sansa). I'll also be writing some more creeper-modern-Baelish soon if you catch my drift. Idk, use reviews or message me to vent your frustrations/feelings or tell me what you want to see in a Harry Potter fanfiction. I really want to write a Fred Weasley/OFC fiction too…I take on too many projects. Also, let us not forget a tarnished soul this day: poor Theon. Let him catch a break (hopefully not a literal break). Side note: I listened to a lot of Imogen Heap/Frou Frou writing this chapter. Namely the songs "Psychobabble" and "Let Go" Also, Theon's comical song for this chapter is "Sway" by NexXthursday ft. Quavo and Lil Yachty. (I love poking fun at poor Theon).