A narrow beam of sunlight broke through the leaves of the treetops above and hit his face, warming it. Ramsay opened his eyes sleepily and closed them again. The sound of chirping birds in a nearby tree reminded him of his newly achieved freedom from the Winterfell captivity. He stretched, giving off a contented yawn. Savouring the warmth on his skin and singing of the dawn chorus his consciousness ebbed out once again.
"Seven blessings" A man's hoarse voice rang out above his head. Ramsay's eyes flew wide open and every strand of hair on his body stood at attention at the startling announcement too close to him. Two men stood bent over his frame watching him with keen interest. They were Stark soldiers, carrying the direwolf sigil on their chest plates and swords hung sheathed on their hips. Realising the immediate threat, Ramsay quickly collected himself. "Ahh, yes…err...you startled me," he let out a small grin, "and seven blessings to you, Ser". He rose to his feet but started swaying, his weary legs making him almost tip over. The men took a step back leaving a little space between themselves and Ramsay. While taking measure of the soldiers he gave them an innocent look.Both men were much larger than himself and could easily overpower him if given a reason to do so.
"Where are we going friend?", one soldier inquired. He had a finely cropped black hair with specks of grey in it and was a little shorter than the other one, a brutish looking blonde who had his nose broken recently; the snuffer being still swollen and blackish-blue around the edges added perfectly to his almost comical gruff appearance. The blonde did not look as though Ramsay´s charm was getting through to him, in fact he looked like a man who was far from won over.
Ramsay's face froze in a wide-eyed expression as his cover story had suddenly dismissed itself from his memory. "Long Lake", he almost blurted it out when the lie finally popped back into his brain, "My family live in the area. I came up from South of here…Barrowton." He smiled. "I've been traveling for a few days and if the gods will it, I will be reunited with my dear kin before darkness settles."
The dark haired man wearing a deadpan expression gave him a small nod. "Might I enquire as to what two fine Stark men like yourselves are doing this far north?" The blonde soldier narrowed his eyes at him; his scepticism was written all over his face. "Just passing through...keeping an eye out for anything unusual". Ramsay felt his stomach clench in alarm at the man's word stress. Doing his very best to hide his growing nervousness, he pointed to the sack containing his provisions. "Well, I myself have not come across such a thing but...perhaps I can offer you some meat and bread to make up for my lack of attention? I have met no-one since I left town, and to be honest it is starting to get a little lonely on the road." "You've travelled this way before?" The man asked, ignoring his offer. Ramsay did not care for their annoying inquiries. They weren't softening up to him like they were supposed to and this was going nowhere good. Ramsay prepared himself to strike first. It was the only chance he had of coming out of a brawl with these men victoriously. "Oh yeah, loads of times. Like I said, my fam…"
"What's your name?" the blonde brute interrupted him harshly. Ramsay's mouth felt dry and he had to fight the urge not to lick his lips for moisture. "Robin", he managed to croak, before his throat tightened and he let out a small cough. "Well, Robin", The soldier tilted his head, looking down into Ramsay's eyes. "It is freezing out here...so why haven´t you build a fire to keep you warm during the night? That does seem very unusualto me". He was ready to jump him, his hand creeping towards the sword on his hip. Ramsay could have tried to talk his way out of it, but if he failed to do so he would have lost his only leverage: a surprise attack.
Ramsay sprang forward, and with all his strength he kneed the blonde in the groin making him roar out and fall to his knees, cupping himself. Swiftly, he reached under his cloak and pulled out the dagger. The other soldier, already unsheathing his sword, had reacted promptly when he saw his partner go down, but given the head start and his lack of heavy clothing, Ramsay was quicker than him. Before the man could get his weapon fully out of the sheath and swing it, Ramsay had rammed the dagger into the side of his throat, pulled it out and rammed it back in again. Blood came pouring out of the wounds in long, pulsating squirts, some of it spraying onto Ramsay´s face like misty rain. The soldier's eyes bulged and his mouth opened and closed resembling a fish out of water. Ramsay pulled out his dagger and the dying man crashed face first into the dirt.
He was about to turn around when he felt a strong hand grab a hold of his shin. "You little shit!", the blonde roared, and Ramsay lost his balance as the man pulled him forcefully downwards, sending him tumbling to the ground. Immediately, the soldier was on top of him wrenching the dagger out of his hand. The beast had at least sixty pounds on him and was immensely stronger. A hand closed tight around Ramsay's throat, and he kicked and squirmed under the heavy body threatening to crush the last breath out of his lungs. To his great horror, he felt his grip on the weapon loosen. Fuck, was all he had time to think before the man had pulled back his fist and punched him square in the face, sending his world into a spin.
The soldier lifted himself of Ramsay, grabbed him by the hair and yanked him to his feet. "Get the fuck up here!" He sneered through clenched teeth and hammered his fist into Ramsay's gut who as a result bent forward, letting out a breathless gasp. "I thought, it looked like you, bastard." Ramsay opened his mouth to return the insult but only a guttural sound, half choked in blood and spittle came out. "My lady will be pleased. A lot of gold has been promised to the one who brings you back to her alive, and I intend to collect her reward but before I do…."
Still holding him by the hair with one hand the blonde grabbed Ramsay's face with the other, his thumb and fingers digging into the hollow of his cheeks. His beady little eyes were bloodshot and furious, and Ramsay could smell his sour breath as he spat in his face. "...I´ll make you regret you were ever pulled from your whore mother's twat". Ramsay's lips curled into a smile, the blood trickling from his nose and down his chin blending with the man's spittle gave him the appearance of a joyous lunatic.
The soldier's rage-filled expression morphed into one of sadistic amusement. "You. Little. Cunt" He sneered into his face and commenced applying pressure to the grip around Ramsay's jaw. The bone made a grinding noise inside his skull, and Ramsay squirmed in the man's clutch. With a quick move he swept his feet from under him with one clean sweep, and Ramsay hit the ground once again, this time landing flat on his stomach. Instantly on top of him with a knee in the back, Ramsay's attacker started tearing at his clothes. Confused, he lay thrashing for a moment before the man's intentions dawned on him and turned what had begun as frantic struggling into a panicked frenzy instead. He bucked and fought desperately as the soldier started pulling down his breeches. No! No! NO!
"Shut up!" The blonde grabbed a fistful of Ramsay's hair and slammed his head down into the frozen ground making his body go limp at impact. The world was spinning again. He could hear his attacker uttering vulgare, lewd comments about what he was going to do to him. Ramsay could feel him breathing on his neck, his weight was crushing the air out of his lungs. All strength seemed to have left his body and he could no longer see straight as the second blow to his head had nearly rendered him unconscious. Behind him the soldier tore at his clothes like a wild animal to get to his flesh. As he felt rough hands groping his bare skin, a desperate idea entered his mind. Rapidly, he slammed his head backwards, hitting the swine on the bridge of his nose with great force. The man hollered and fell of Ramsay´s back, blood gushing from his face.
Swift on his feet, Ramsay dove for the dagger. Seizing it, he turned to face the blonde man now on his knees, holding a hand to his nose and glaring at him with promise of murder in his eyes. Blood was cascading down his face and chest, colouring the direwolf on his attire a dark red. "You fuckin´ bastar…" His sentence was cut off as Ramsay hurled the dagger into his skull, fastening the blade where the broken nose used to be. The soldier's body fell to the ground with a thunk!
Ramsay swayed for a second, then collapsed next to the still jittering corpse. His breeches were pulled halfway down over his rear and he hauled them back up with trembling hands. For the first time in a long time he felt truly shaken to the core. He sat for a second trying to comprehend what had nearly happened to him. His anger started welling to the surface, alongside it a feeling of disgust and humiliation followed. Ramsay had to blink away a couple of tears that formed in the corner of his eyes. Cannot linger here, his thoughts were slowly becoming coherent again, need to get as far north as I can, and fast.
He got up with a small, agonized growl. The blow to his abdomen were still hurting his gut. Ramsay limped over to the blonde, placed a boot on his shoulder and pulled the dagger free from the man's skull. A crunching sound could be heard as the metal twisted and broke free from bone. The body sank back with a dull thud. Ramsay spat in the dead man´s mangled face, then he stabbed him again - and again.
The similarity between the incident he had just now survived and the ordeal he had put Theon Greyjoy through under his so-called escape attempt from the Dreadfort made Ramsay shudder. The irony was not entirely lost on him. When informing his soldiers of the intended punishment for the eloping Prince, some had been more compliant than others to carry out the orders. It had all been a game of course. He never intended for Theon to be ravished by his men, only building some trust and gratitude towards the servant boy who had saved him from such a horrible, humiliating violation. The soldiers themselves were also a part of his little game, and it had been an immense delight to put an arrow through each one of them once they had finally realized their Lord's betrayal.
He stood for a second contemplating to hide the bodies of the men but thought better of it. Both bastards were too heavy and covering them up would take too much of his precious time. He gathered his belongings still laying in a heap next to the oak-tree, and followed the soldiers tracks a few hundred feet into a small cluster of bushes where they had secured their steeds, two half-starved mares.
Ramsay picked the healthiest-looking animal and slit the other´s throat with his dagger. It fell squealing to the ground, bleeding out. He mounted the remaining horse and looked around, his brow furling as he listened to the surroundings intently. The forest had gone quiet again. It was still morning, and he wanted to get as much distance between himself and Winterfell before nightfall. Ramsay snapped the reins and kicked the mare's sides, sending her into a gallop.