"You will be the sword that drives Jon Snow to his knees before me, my sweet little menace. You will pluck his heart from his ribcage and kneel at my feet as you were born to do as it shrivels and dies in your bloody hands. Together we will feast on the organ. Together we will dance on his grave. Together, little Ghost, we will break the bastard."
I found pleasure in only a select few things in this miserable cesspit we all called life - but one of my favourite pass times was watching the life drain from her face time and time again. This time was no different. Doe eyes gazed up at me with an innocence that had not touched her since long before letting her fester in that pit so many moons ago. I thought it had died entirely with Allys. Perhaps it needed to be stamped out once again.
"My lord, I ca- Jon is a go—"
"Silence." Morality was not something I trained into my creatures. If it became an issue now I could beat it out of her as I had every other useless trait she possessed. A spark of fury made my fingers twitch with at the mention of his name. I restrained. Not for her sake - it simply felt too good to beat her and not fuck her while she still wept. It were too time consuming to become lost in her tears and her sex at the moment. The bruises that crept toward her dark lashes did nothing to dull the azure ocean that swirled amongst the whites of her eyes - no amount of horror ever had. Always her eyes remained defiant even in my darkness. I hated that.
Reluctantly, she pursed her lips and waited for me to continue speaking. I didn't care for reluctance. Besides, that itch to strike her had begun to make my cock swell.
She didn't cry out as I let my open palm strike at her cheek, but the catch of her breath was enough to satisfy my hunger for now.
"Jon Snow has caused you so much pain, little Ghost. And yet still you attempt to defy me in his defence?" The poison rolled of my tongue and poured into susceptible ears with ease. "Are you really so broken that you do not see that you owe this unkindness to him? To me? Actions have consequences. You know that. Jon Snow took actions that led to your consequences." It felt foreign to justify my decisions. I did not care for her feelings about the subject. Jon Snow had been a dead man walking for many years in my ideals - she was just the perfect way to execute him. The reward of my puppeteering felt good to watch. The words began to twist inside her mind - as distant memories were tarred with a bitter brush and starting to warp that bastard Snow from white knight to meddling cunt.
The order wasn't a question so I didn't wait for an answer. I rose from the sheets and stretched lazily above her, taking one last look at her naked and bruised body in my furs.
"Do not sit there and mope like some sulking child," I spat, "Rise. Wash. Dress. Today we share our exciting news with the council."
*
Preposterous.
Ridiculous.
Reckless.
The heart of the council had little faith. I had not asked for their faith nor their permission. A lord does not look to peasants for guidance. I dismissed any and all that mocked the notion of the idea. Some lay dead at my feet, the rest now skittering nervously behind the wooden table - debating whether the oak would keep me barred from their bodies. A dagger wavered carelessly in my finger tips, first pointing to my Father and then to the girl at my feet. She did not flinch. I nicked her cheek for good measure.
"First you insist on bringing that thing to every meeting; now you wish to send her to the enemy with a head full of information that should never have entered her thick skull in the first place!" My Father had never been able to hold his tongue. A firm hand, harsh words and condescending stares had all but raised me as a boy. If anything his outrage felt like home. "You truly believe she will betray Snow for you? You are no better than the deluded whores that waltz into your furs and believe you will love them."
"Father, you have no understanding of the workings of a broken mind. The girl is mine. She will do exactly as I ask. It is unquestionable," I rose from my seat and continued speaking over the scoffs that followed the statement, "do you believe she wishes to kill me like my enemies?"
My Father levelled out; hackles raising as he came to full height with a dangerous look of contempt engraved in his features after many years of raising such an awful bastard. "You are lucky that girl has not slit your throat while you sleep, boy. It is only a matter of time. If you arm an enemy with a blade do not have the audacity to be surprised as it runs through your spleen. You will have no sympathy from me for your foolishness." As he finished his scalding he made his way to the door.
"Do not turn your back on me!"
The room fell silent. Footsteps steadied in the hall. Every man in the room looked hesitantly to one another for guidance as an echo rang out and settled over the ovation.
I stormed towards her with furious intent, fingers flexing at my hips before shooting out and catching a fistful of dark hair. She moved pliantly under my hand. I felt like fucking her in front of these men, perhaps then they would see how truly obedient she was to my touch. That was not going to prove anything to my Lord Father. Our audience remained fixated as
I dropped to my knees before her and thrust the dagger into her shaking hands.
"You think I am so useless Father. You think the girl hates me so. You think I am a boy with too much power and too little sense, yet here I am with a Castle at my feet and a council at my side." I felt the excitement rise in my chest as my Father began to pace back towards the two figures in the middle of the room. I watched as the concern touched the lines that shed his already worn features.
"Ramsay, I do not need to see your throat get cut to belie—"
"Oh, but you do, dear Father!" I grinned at him and took Ghost by the hips, snatching her closer to me. I forced the blade to my throat and tilted my head back in surrender. "Loyal council, my final request is that you see Ghost well in her future. I wish for her to have gold, land and protection for the rest of her days. I do not wish for any action to be taken upon her in my death. It would be a dishonour if you were to deny me a single one of these requests." I inhaled sharply and snapped my eyes back to Ghost. I breathed her in and let all the fear she emitted fill my lungs with the fumes. She had always smelt the best.
"Kill me."
"My Lord, plea—"
"I said kill me! Think of everything I have done to you. Think of every time you have screamed my name and begged for mercy. Think of the life you could have if I hadn't taken it for my own!" I knew hysteria had touched my mind and shuddered in excitement as blood began to boil beneath the surface of my veins. Ghost stared down at me wide eyed and pleading. I met her with a smile born for battle. "Do it," I whispered. "Show them."
The council had all frozen in their seats, each one with a hand reaching out as if willing the blade to drop from her hands. Conflicting emotions swarmed her mind - I imagined the deep ache that disobeying an order must bring her and hummed with delight. The council stared on in horror as I leaned my weight against the metal, near moaning with content as blood trickled down into the collar, staining it with my madness.
Ghost did not move.
Ghost did not speak.
Ghost only stared hopelessly at the knife in her palms as if willing it to turn to ash. So broken.
"Enough of this lunacy!"
My father roared from the sidelines and struck the blade from her fingertips, the disappointing sound of steel to stone ringing out for all the council to hear. A chuckle rumbled from my gut and filled the silence that had fallen so. I forgot about the council and my fathers beady eyes. With steady hands I clasped her face and brought her to her knees before me, rising above like thunder clouds that threatened to pour down with Hell's fury on the earth.
"She is the perfect hunter. Unseen. Unheard. Unforgiving. Jon Snow's atonement will be futile. The bastard will rue the day he ever laid eyes on my pretty little Ghost."
Silence fell across the hall. Once dubious eyes now peered down at my creation with consuming curiosity, worried expressions worn with unspoken questions and queries of my method. I squeezed her cheeks for good measure and released her from my hands, turning to my Father.
"You put your faith in men that kneel before useless gods and swear oaths through lying teeth. Men with wavering intentions that would eat you alive if you stumbled in your reign. I put mine in Ghost; for her loyalty was not born of honour nor pride - it was an intrinsic part of survival. Instinctive and unyielding. Beaten dogs do not bite the hand that feeds them, Father. Even if that hand could one day snap it's neck."
*
The following dawn touched the grounds and chased away the darkness. The path ahead was littered with snow high as the horses knees and debris from the dying plant life scattered amongst the winter carpet. My precious Ghost lie still in a crate hoisted to the wagon that were to set off towards The Wall, shallow breathes puffing out into the winter's embrace and dispersing fumes fading before my eyes - as if she were nothing more than a corpse rotting in the woodwork. Bloodied and broken she slept off her trauma. When she woke she would be with the enemy. I thought briefly about how I would miss my own shadow, but the touch of humanity was lost as soon as it had appeared. Do not disappoint me, Ghost. It would be such a shame to break my favourite toy... Frozen fingers traced her mottled jaw, haphazardly jibing at the bruises in hopes of rousing some whimper from her lips. Still she lie there lifeless. I huffed in annoyance and slapped at her cheek. The palm of my hand now marred with her blood. Useless. I thought bitterly and jumped from the wagon with steady footing even in the ice. After scrounging in my coat for the parchment I tossed it carelessly in her crate and sealed it shut. It saddened me that I would not be there to see her face as she woke freezing in the darkness. I thought about the amusement of watching her writhe and scream for saviour as the walls closed in and her brain scattered in the confined space. Shame.
I turned to the rider.
"See she makes it to the bastard alive. Do not feed her. Do not offer her water. Do not answer to her screams. I need this to look convincing." I smiled and kissed the crate, letting my sword pierce the smallest of holes in the top of the planks. That would suffice.
The horses were silent in their departure, thick snow muffling their hooves as they took away my favourite plaything. I headed back towards the castle in stony silence, soon to fill my free time with the pleasure of cracking open the skull of a whore in my furs . Excitement quickly erased the ache of longing that had crept into my thoughts; casting out infuriating images of the coming days that would end with Jon Snow and my broken girl sharing his furs.
Patience had never been my fortè, but the confidence that Ghost would obey even in my absence made the thought of a long game all the more bearable. Besides, I had all the time in the world to fuck her while Jon Snow's head remain mounted above my mantle.