The morning had been bleak upon the rising. With a heavy head and heart my body protested at the dreary sunlight streaming through the cracks in the window; accompanied by a draught that caught the bedsheets and had them rustling in the cold, damp room. The basin from the night before no longer looked inviting, lavender having sunk to the bottom and dissolving into nothing more than fleks of purple that made the once inviting water look more like a horse's trough. The stables came flooding back to me at that thought and I clutched my temple in an attempt to push it back down and swallow away the anxiety that pumped my body full of adrenaline and made my already sore head pound harder. Now was not the time for self pity.
I rose tenderly from the now empty sheets, thankful that Jon had already begun his morning without waiting to watch me regret my behaviour from the eve before. Stupid girl... Ramsey's voice echoed in my mind, haunting my thoughts for the remainder of a very tender morning of licking my wounds and preparing for the dawn. I knew Ramsey would be hot on Jon's tail until I were dead - full of a burning rage and evergrowing bloodlust for the chase that lie ahead. Jon Snow was no longer a safe bet - he could not outrun my hunter, nor could he predict the lengths I knew my former Master would truly go to in the attempt to carry out my death sentence. However, if he continued on the road ahead he could buy me time. Precious time. Foolish or not I would not ask Jon's permission; the man were too honourable to agree letting me walk the wilderness. Besides, if he did know and Ramsey got a noose around his neck I refused to believe he would have hold his tongue for the sake of a gutter rat. Either way, I could not lie down and wait to be caught by the beast that hid in the shadows.
It was time to run.
Four days. That was how long I had suffered the bitter winter and the endless downpour after disbanding from the King in the North. I had crept away and sunk into the background of the forest to the east and kept moving until my legs turned to lead and gave out beneath me. Even then, body burning and the deep snow seeming more inviting by the hour I could not fall into it's icy embrace; the distant sounds of Ramsey's hounds pushing me forward even in my desolate state. A fever had taken me after the first day, sickness had followed the next and the hounds had soon caught wind of my near demise, no doubt catching scent of their foul prey and storming ahead with excited chatter and hungry jowls raking through the forest in my wake. Tears had rolled profusely down my cheeks throughout the journey, burning the withered and torn skin that the frost had already beaten raw.
Hindsight slapped me harder than any man could have. Ramsey had known he would spook me out of the bars of safety Jon had provided simply by visiting the Inn - looking back I doubt he had even left the side of the road, simply waiting like a fox at a rabbit hole for it to dare poke its head into the light. Stupid whore.. His voice boomed somewhere deep in my subconscience, carving the words deep into both skin and bone - finally pressing the last of my resolve into the earth beneath and burying it alive. Numb fingertips clawed at the snow, but my body no longer listened to the screaming urgency of the trailing pack, inching closer as the world grew dark and trees faded to nothing more than shadows of looming giants threatening to swoop down on me with wooden limbs in a thorn-filled embrace. I sank below the surface of the snow and let it begin to melt and wrap itself around my frame, taking me more gently than I had expected as I relaxed wearily into its hold. A self made coffin of debris and frost clung tight to my already sodden clothes as howls turned to snarls and once distant sounds became a cry as loud as a babe in the night. Perhaps if I stay still enough they will simply run over my body and trample me into the warm earth that promised to swallow me up if I could just sink a little lower.
"Did you really think death would be this easy, Ghost?"
Perhaps not. A hand snaked it's way into my winter blanket and dragged me from it's comfort, forcing me to face the darkness ahead. Yet now, amongst that darkness stood men, horses, dogs and torches all lighting the way like a golden lit path to sacrifice a lamb to gods. The bustling group of man and dog did nothing to drown him out, like a moth to flame I could still only stare lifelessly at that same hateful face that had tortured my days and haunted my dreams for so many moons now. That same face leaned in without any emotion plastered on it, teasingly slow to ensure my stomach knotted itself a thousand times over to try and keep back the bile rising from it. I hated it when he was calm. Anger was manageable - I would prefer Ramsey erupt at the seams, to beat me til I'm bloody all the while spewing out every spit and curse that could send me to the seven hells before ever going as eerily calm as he looked in that moment. It felt as if the wind held its breathe when he began to speak and I mimicked it effortlessly, my lungs seeming to forget their one purpose as they too listened to his bitter, bitter words.
"Our journey together has just begun, my sweet. You will truly know what it means to wish for death at the will of my hand and my hand alone when I am through with your meaningless existence, you cunt!" He spat the word viciously, lunging and letting his teeth sink deep into my cheek. A wretched scream erupted from my throat only to fall on deaf ears, but with sharp teeth still resting against my skin and a pool of blood wetting his chapped lips I caught dead eyes glaze over into a new darkness. Calm once more.
"There are many, many games I wish to play with you before the hunt is truly over, little Ghost."
Those same lips pressed a kiss to my temple and I closed my eyes, imagining somewhere far away where I could end my life in peace and let the ravens make scraps of my carcass. If only it could be that easy.
Orders were made and men began to move. Dogs began to chatter amongst themselves as the troop set of and suddenly I was clinging to the back of a man that I had so briefly evaded. As opposed to a breath of fresh air it were as if the world outside of my already dismal existence had poisoned what little privilege I had left - the one man that had kept me alive for so long intended to string me up and watch me die. If Death were a man, I pray he take me now and could only hope he was kinder than the fate that awaited me if I made it back to Winterfell.