A morning as cool and crisp as the Northfolk could scarcely bare presented itself the morning of Jon Snow's arrival. It was as if the King himself had brought down the frost from the Wall and marched it to our gate. The Lord, his Father and their council all had the privellege of heavy set fur coats - all hard earned by Ramsey and his bloodhounds. I couldn't fight away the cold as the men did, all swaddled in their capes and coats; encasing their bodies in a deep warmth that fought the chill away. Instead I stood alone in nothing but a small, lace dress - the fabric so thin it did nothing to save my dignity as I stood behind the Lord with the Hounds chained at my feet. All pressed as close to my body as they could get. Whether that was to warm me up or steal the remains of my body heat I did not know nor care, for I could at least pray I would not lose a foot to the frost as I stood quietly in the 6 inches of heavy snow.
The rest of the castle were tucked away behind the stone walls, yet each window were teeming with faces all itching to get a glimpse of the first enounter between the two bastards; even the servants and maids that had been worked to bone before the arrival all peeked out of their crooks and doors as the horn sounded long and true into the dawn - warning of an approach.
The gates opened and in rode the Bastard - with no more than 10 of his men as he had promised. My eyes were met with men of all shapes and sizes as they dismounted their steeds and led them closer to Ramsey and his council. The archers all drew back their bows with a hiss as the man that must of been Jon Snow himself stepped ahead of his men.
"Ramsey. I thank you for allowing this meeting to take place in your home." It were no secret that the man clearly struggled to spit out the words your and home in the same sentence, but it seems Jon Snow was a diplomat if nothing else and he offered out a hand bound in beaten leather to Ramsey, then to his Father and finally to the Captain of his guard - who did nothing but stare at the King in the North with the utmost distaste. As the archers seemed to sense a calming of the non existant threat the real introductions began - each man in Jon's party had a title and a home they once belonged to and I listened curiously to the jumble of words the mismatched group all spewed about themselves. Courtesies of the Lords had never been my forte, a man were a man no matter where he came from - esteemed titles or not. However, Ramsey had been trained and regimented to learn each and every title in the Seven Kingdoms as did any young man raised by a respectable Lord.
I zoned in and out of their conversations and steadied the hounds at my feet as they begged to be let loose on the new arrivals. If I were to unleash the mongrels this meeting would be over before they had gotten past their introductions - but it would declare a war between Ramsey and the King's people and would mean my death for certainty.
I was so lost in keeping a grip on the chains of the hounds and not letting the cold bite into me so much as I would begin to shake that I must of jumped a foot in the air when a voice boomed Ghost across the grounds. My own fright was accompanied by a fierce reaction by the hounds, every one of them snapping their jaws and raising their hackles at the King in the North as he stared at the open gates.
"Silence those hounds or I'll feed you to them before the morn is over." Ramsey did not look at me as he spoke, yet I knew he had his full attention in that second.
I tried my best to calm the hounds, but they became more wild with every second that passed and even began to lunge this way and that in hopes of escaping their chains. I had never seen them become so unruly in front of Ramsey himself and began to trust that whatever had spooked them deserved as much caution as the dogs warned of. It were not until a beast bigger than any wolf or dog I had ever faced bolted through the gates that I fully understood the fear that wrecked the pack. It stood as tall as any man, a huge bulk of muscle that rippled under its winter coat as it padded alongside it's aparant master.
"This is Ghost." The bastard calmly explained the beast was a Direwolf found in the Godswood many years ago and had since been raised by him at the Wall. It were no pet, but it meant no harm unless under threat. It responded to his voice as he spoke, seeming to bow it's head and grow more subdued as Ramsey began a long, slow clap for the dramatic entrance. I don't know whether he envisioned killing the beast or it leading his hunt, but the game had just changed. Ramsey would not rest until he had the beast under his hand, whether that be as a fur coat or his newest bloodchaser. Excitement oozed from those piercing eyes as he seemed to forget the rest of the party were here, lost in a world where the direwolf bowed to only him. It didn't take long for him to compose himself, a slow smile stretching from ear to ear as he turned to face me.
"I don't suppose you'll trade me, Snow? A ghost for a ghost?" The laughter that rippled from Ramsey and his council all cut through me, but the joke was lost on Jon Snow and his men, who only turned to stare at me in utter bewilderment. I assume they had only just noticed the near naked girl with the hounds.
"A ghost for a ghost?" Echoed Jon.
"Yes. You see, I have a pet of my own that shares a name with your impressive beast. Now, I'm afraid she is not as fierce, but I promise you she is as loyal as any hound you could ever wish to own." Ramsey's tone was dripping with amusement as he kicked the dogs away from my feet and lunged. A hand wrestled into my hair and I was brought forward before the standing ovation of 20 men, forced to my knees in inches of snow and laid bare before the bastard and his beast
"Ghost is no name for a woman." Jon didn't seem to understand what was being said, his brows knitting into a deep frown as he stared down at me.
"She is no woman, Snow." Ramsey released my hair and I dipped my head to hide my face, cheeks burning bright enough to melt the snow around us. "I assume you do not want to trade?"
"No." Jon was curt about his answer. "Ghost is not a prize to be bought, unfortunately. However, I would suggest you wrap your own pet in something a little warmer or she won't make it through the winter. And the cut on her face is infected. A maester should of noticed days ago." I looked up to see that the King in the North was now staring at only Ramsey, eyes burning with unspent rage. "Is this how you treat all the women under your leige, my Lord?"
Ramsey continued smiling, thoroughly enjoying the rise he had gotten from his guests. "Only the ones that behave."
Jon Snow broke the growing tension between the two of them and turned back to his horse, retrieving a clad black fur coat, seemingly made for a woman. "It belongs to my sister, but I'm sure she won't mind."
I could feel Ramsey's eyes burning into me; I could feel the rage that he swallowed back only to spit at me later; I could feel the way his chest rose and fell in a meek attempt to calm himself. I could not look at Jon Snow as he wrapped the coat around my shoulders, nor could I even manage to whisper a thank you in the safety of his presence. I was so frightened in that moment I think the lump in my throat turned to clay, choking me for air as much as it did for the words that Jon Snow deserved. I didn't have time to fret over my manners for long, I was up in the air beside my Lord in less than a second, that same strong hand matted in my hair. I didn't cry out, though I know at least a clump had been ripped from my scalp.
"I think that's enough bonding for one day, don't you?" He spoke to only me and I nodded in response as quickly as I could. It was what he wanted to see. I should run from the kindness of others so as not to get used to such treatment. Meanwhile, Jon Snow remained crouching where my body had once been, the same brooding look manipulating his features into a frown once more. Ramsey handed me the chains to the hounds again and jerked his head towards the kennels. "You will stay out of my way for the remainder of the day. If you are not in my bed after supper you will not be sleeping in it again. Are we clear, little Ghost?"
I didn't understand why I was being sent away. I couldn't remember that last time Ramsey had trusted me to leave his side. The thought almost excited me. Almost. Perhaps I had more to thank Jon Snow for than the fur coat that chased away the cold.
It was not until late that night when Ramsey arrived, steaming drunk and full of a rage I had not been subjected to since the battle of the bastards that I wished Jon Snow would leave this place and never return. Or at least leave me to rot in it first. Ramsey beat me harder than he ever had, he fucked me until my body felt as numb and broken on the inside as it did on the out and he spat every cursed word under the sun at me until I truly believed it. I think I asked him to kill me that night. I may have even begged. I would say I could remember but the only image that replayed in my mind was his face, distorted with hatred and alive with adrenaline as he came down on me like a storm at sea. I drowned in his words and swallowed them up until I couldn't breathe anymore. I let every part of his torture wash over me and strip me of anything I had left and I hoped to god this was the final time. I hoped he hit me hard enough I would never wake to endure another nightmare.
"It's a miracle she isn't dead."
"With all due respect, Snow. I have seen victims with injuries far worse."
"Not victims with years worth of old injuries and malnutrition. By all the justice in the seven kingdoms he should die for this."
"I thought you were here to make peace?"
"I cannot make peace with a man that tortures women and feeds them to his dogs. How could I allow that monster to be around my own people?"
"I would lower my voice if I were you, Jon. As it stands, you are still in the Lion's Den and you have a lioness at your feet. Asleep or not, she could relay this to him. You do not know where her loyalties lie."
"I know she does not love him. That is enough."
The voices around me grew faint as I slipped in and out of a subdued state - I could feel the milk of the poppy making my eyes heavier than they needed to be. I wanted to open them and face my audience. 2 men? 3? I couldn't tell. Where was Ramsey? I had never woken without him nearby.
"How old do you think she is, Maester?"
"Not a year past 20." The voice that replied was not my Maester. It was a strangers voice, softer and more forgiving than the man that usually treated me. I didn't know where I was. The fog that had settled over my mind was beginning to send me into a panic - and so I fought it with all my might, struggling to open my eyes and look around me. I began to regain feeling in my body and the pain that accompanied it was enough to catch my breath and send me screaming all at once.
"Shit." A hushed voice accompanied by a warm hand pressed over my mouth hissed into the darkness. My eyes snapped open in a flurry of tears as the pain seared across my body. I caught a glimpse of the faces around me. Jon Snow stood front and center, leaning down with a finger pressed to his lips in hopes of silencing my screams. My hands shot up to grip the strong grip that covered my mouth and I clung to the fingers there desperately. It must have been his hand there because the other body in the room was scrambling at a table of potions and ointments in search of something I assumed would be intended to quieten me.
"Please. Be quiet." Jon Snow's voice was serious, urgent and warned of a nearby danger that
was not far from the dimly lit room we were hovelled up in. I swallowed back the noises that gurgled in my throat and threatened to bubble up at any second. If Ramsey had told me to be quiet, it would have been an easier task. Fear was as good a motivation as any when you had nothing left but desperation.
The man that I assumed were the Maester returned to the bedside with a vile in his hands that he pressed to my lips immediately. "Drink." It was not a command so much as a gentle urging to heed his advice. I did so without thought. It would either kill me or ease the pain. I were lucky enough to be rewarded with the latter. The effects of the potion were almost immediate. Heat radiated across my already burning body and chased away the pain as it went. I felt myself sinking lower and lower into the bed beneath me and wondered briefly if perhaps it was a poison after all. If it were, I was grateful that death swaddled you in a comfortable embrace as it swallowed you whole.
"She will not wake for another few days, my Lord. It's best to let her rest."
There voices were so far away, as muffled as the world became when you dipped your head under water.
"But she will wake, Maester?"
Jon Snow was still close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. I clung to his hands with the last of my strength and hoped he would not leave me here to die alone.
"Most certainly. She is past her hour of need. Now it's just for her body and mind to come back to us properly."
"Do you think he knows she is missing?"
Where they talking about Ramsey now? Was he here? Why would he allow me to be in a room with these strangers?
"No, my Lord. If truth be told, I think the bastard left her there to die with his dogs. And if I have the right to say it, I believe he did this because you were kind to a girl that you owed no 's what meddling with another man's woman does. It gets 'em all hot and bothered and they don't have no where to take that anger out 'cept the very thing that didn't want no part in it."
"I have enough guilt about this to last me a lifetime, Maester. I did not intend to sentence her to death when I offered her that coat."
"Ramsey's a fickle man, my lord. You shamed him once before and once again today in front of a standing ovation. That girl was his to starve to death, or freeze to death, or leave to die with the dogs. You would not allow that to happen. You cheated him that and if discovers she lives under your protection you will have another war on your hands."
I stopped listening to the two men bicker over the worth of my life then. Ramsey had left me to die with the dogs. It was done. I was as good as dead and gone the minute he decided that I were nothing more than dog meat to him. A deep sadness rinsed away the last of the aching in my bones and I allowed sleep to pull me under to escape the reality of what had happened. My savior had abandoned me; I were alone in a world that had never been kind to me; and I was in the hands of new men with new intentions that I knew nothing about. Perhaps if I willed it enough my body would begin to burn and melt away, turning to nothing but dust in the sheets that cocooned my broken bones. Perhaps my hair would turn ash and send flumes of smoke up into the castle. Perhaps that smoke would find Ramsey and his men and choke them in their sleep until all that was left were the hounds and their pups to roam the castle walls. Perhaps.
Or perhaps I would wake in a weeks time and face the world again with new welts and scars to face the break of day. None of it mattered. I only knew how to live in fear of the very man that had left me to die. What was left if not the tragedy of what I once was?
~Would really appreciate any and all feedback on this! Constructive criticism welcome as always.~