Her green eyes met their exact replicas when she awoke after a dozen mornings, and Callidora shot out of her bed in an instant, her hands slipping under her daughter as carefully as she could not to frighten the child. She couldn't believe her eyes and they brewed tears of happiness within them that then trickled down her still pale cheeks.
The little girl in her trembling arms gave something akin to a gurgling squeal in response, butting her raven haired head into the hollow of her throat. She just melted backwards into the thick pelts that lined the bed around her, cradling Esma to her chest as though she would vanish once more and never be seen again. The little girl was just content enough to lay there and cuddle, indicating she'd missed her as well.
Ramsay didn't return until late that night, and she still held that precious little bundle to her chest, Esma having long gone to sleep once she'd been fed by the nurse, someone Callidora wasn't sure if she liked or not. He eyed mother and child before pulling his heavy fur cloak off, the removal of it releasing the little flurries of snow that'd been trapped in its heavy folds. "I had a conversation with Wolkan."
Her green eyes moved from the sleeping baby to where he stood, and she wondered why on earth he would be talking with the timid Maester who shook at the mere sound of his voice. "What about?" She asked quietly, and he smirked, walking over and taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside her, his ice blue eyes moving between she and Esma, the little girl unaware of the evil beside her.
Ramsay looked back at Callidora. "He seems to think we should keep," those ice blue eyes shone with a certain slyness she couldn't place, "fucking, for according to a recent series of letters exchanged with another Maester, it appears to ensure an easier pregnancy as compared to one who hasn't fucked during when the woman is with child."
Her eyed widened in, well she wasn't sure whether it was horror or downright shock at the fact that he had actually managed to have this conversation with a Maester who couldn't look him completely in the eyes when they talked, on the rare time they did.
Callidora tried to suppress the bubbling nausea. "I'm sure I'll be just fine without fucking," she retorted, the vulgar word unfamiliar on her tongue. He grinned that grin that made her anxious without fail, and he chuckled. "Your loss." She raised a brow. Her loss? Don't think so. He turned to face her. "Oh, and I wasn't suggesting it either. Wolkan seems to think it'll stop this child being born earlier than it should be, like the last one was, for instance. If there is a chance that I might get my son, this time, then we'll do everything that cowardly man says to ensure it all goes as smoothly as possible. I want that son." The pleasant, somewhat pleasant, façade dropped and she, having no idea where such courage came from, answered back. "And what if I were to refuse such?"
A sharp smirk was directed towards her. "Then think about who'd suffer the most, should she not see her mother until the said woman accepted that this was not a debate, and opened her legs. And no fighting, this time. I want something from you in return if I'm to play my part in ensuring this all goes much more easily for you, as after all, you're the one carrying it."
Callidora glanced at Esma, not a fool as to what he was insinuating. She swallowed her pride, or what was left of it that was, and nodded, albeit reluctantly, and he grinned. "Glad you're starting to see things my way at last." He added as a final taunt, and she withheld her tears. What was her life coming to?
She wasn't surprised when a letter appeared but a day later, and while the bastard hadn't touched her yet like he said he was going to, she knew if she didn't give it to him and he found it himself, things would be far worse and greatly more painful when he came to doing do. She handed it to him when he returned from hunting animals, unopened, and went back to caring for Esma like nothing had happened. The bastard just watched her with a smirk before he opened it for himself, read it with dangerous, ice blue eyes, and then without further ado, burned it in the roaring flames of the fireplace. He glanced at her after he was sure it was completely gone. "You're learning, I see." He began and she shrugged, holding the precious, dozing ebony haired girl with those enchanting green eyes to her chest as she looked out into the cold, swirling snow storm. "Anything I do that displeases you either comes back onto myself," she whispered, feeling him walking up behind her, those pain inflicting hands coming to rest on the tops of her arms. "Or on Esma," she finished, her eyes watering as she scoffed. "What is the point of this anymore?" She wondered out loud. "I resist, you beat me down in the worst ways imaginable, raping me over and over again until I fall with child again, like now, or you withhold my daughter from me, the only ray of light I have in this cold place. My brothers say they'll rescue me, and yet, where are they? I've been failed, in more ways than one by them. It should never have gotten to this point if they truly wanted to save me from your evil clutches." She said solemnly, her green eyes looking at that little baby who was just content to lay there in her arms, oblivious to the severity of the conversation going on around her little raven haired head.
Those hands on her shoulders felt like chains, and when he spoke, she could hear the smirk in his voice as he did so. "Well, won't you be pleased to know that your brothers have abandoned you then." She whirled around, green eyes brewing with tears at his words. "What?" She gasped out through beginning sobs and he nodded, that smirk still on his face as he clasped his hands behind his back. "Well, when news of your predicament reached them, they practically disowned you, my dear Callidora. It was in the letter I just burned. Yes, they said they can't let a son be born, so they'll kill it before it is, and what do you think that means?"
Tears of betrayal trickled down her pale, clammy cheeks. "Kill me." She whispered, her heart shattering at the thought of those she loved wanting to kill her, just so she couldn't give birth. There were many ways to kill the infant that didn't result in the death of the mother, and yet, they'd decided to kill both her and the unborn child. She dashed away her tears angrily. "How do I know you aren't lying?" She demanded and he chuckled, taking a seat at the small table she typically ate her meals at. "They said they'd be withdrawing their forces, and burning your name off of their monument that they have at the castle you once called home." He stated and she withheld her wail of despair, her facial expression betraying her as it twisted into something that could only be described as complete and utter grief. The burning of someone's name from the monument was a secret kept within the house of Marcellus, and from that statement alone, she knew he was telling the horrific truth.
She tightened her hold on Esma before looking at him straight on, wiping her tears away once again. "I want them all gone." She stated with a look in her eyes that he'd not seen before. "I will do whatever you want, and I mean anything, just kill them." She finished, swallowing the tatters of her pride in exchange for revenge, and she wasn't surprised when he smirked smugly. "Anything? You got a deal."
She cried herself to sleep that night while he talked with his father, undoubtedly about how he'd gotten her to come over to their side amid her brothers betrayal.
He returned when she was sleeping, the tears streaks still wet upon her face causing him to smirk as it showed just how she'd fallen asleep. Now was the time for games, under the cover of darkness, a game only adults could play. He could hear movement in the adjoining room, letting him know that his daughters nurse was in there with the child, and wasting no time at all, he slipped into the thick warm pelts that covered the bed, and Callidora, his hands going for the tie in her nightdress immediately. She made a sound in her sleep, green eyes blinking softly before her head turned and those green irises focussed on himself. He gave her a look, challenging her to refuse, and was a little more than surprised when she merely reached for the strings that held her nightdress shut, pulling them open and pushing the said garment down her changing body, the clothing becoming lost between the numerous pelts above them.
He took a second to look at her, at the changes he could see in the dim light that came from the one candle he'd brought with him into the room. The changes from this latest pregnancy were apparent almost immediately -her stomach, normally flat from the times he'd seen during brutal sessions under both darkness and light, had a slight rounding to it, definitely not from becoming fat like that Frey bitch. Her breasts had changed too since they were no longer required to sustain the child in the next room, and yet they seemed larger than ever, the rings around the nipples a dark colour, different than before she'd had her daughter.
Callidora swallowed, fear building up inside. What was he doing, playing with her so she feared his every little move? She already did, but was he trying to made it worse or something?
She remembered his words about how it could come back to Esma, something she feared more than anything, and keeping that thought in the front of her mind, she reached up, violently shaking hands reaching for the thick, leather jacket he always wore, and she tugged it off, her still trembling hands going for his shirt next, and then she heard the movement in the adjoining room, this time much closer to the door than its owner should be, and he looked back at it. "So father sent a spy, did he?" He hissed, and she quivered underneath him, not sure what his next reaction would be, other than rage, more likely that being followed by blood spillage of the nurse who she knew she'd had a bad vibe about.
He smirked a dangerous, unstable smirk. "Well then, let's give him something to be told." He spat, hands fumbling at his belt before he pulled himself out and spearing into her in the same movement, an action so violent, a groaning moan choked itself out of her before she could stop its exit. He wasn't gentle, instead intent in seemingly bruising her inner thighs just to prove a point, or so it seemed. He moved quickly, giving her no time to recover her stolen oxygen as he delivered thrust after thrust after thrust into her bewildered body. He glared down at her, and she wasn't sure then if he was angry at her for some reason, or at the individual who was still at the door from the shadow she could see under it.
His ice blue eyes were burning, and after another quick glance at the door, he seemed to get angrier almost, for he resumed his actions, this time setting up an almost brutal speed that made her legs and insides shake against her control, and when his hand trailed down to a place that buzzed, she lost control, a loud sound echoing from her mouth that she was sure it would wake up the sleeping infant in the next room. It was beyond her control now, and for some reason, she didn't care. She made numerous noises, each one spurring him on just that little bit more. Her back arched, and she shook in his grasp, something wet and warm spreading inside of her when he gave a loud and heavy grunt just above her left ear. That wet feeling sparked her own euphoria, a feeling out of her control, and an unwillingly released moan choked out, her limbs shaking.
He pushed himself off of her harshly while she still shook, her senses coming back to her as she tried to grasp what the hell had just happened. The shadow under the door retreated, seemingly satisfied, and he adjusted himself, cold blue eyes fixed on the ceiling up above. She was almost afraid to move, wondering what he would do next now they didn't have to play to an audience, so to speak. He didn't do anything though, just stared up at the ceiling before getting up to blow the candle out. "Consider that as part of your 'anything'," he said in a dealthy, angry voice before rolling over, leaving her to think.