Chapter Nine
While You Were Away
The first thing Ramsay did upon Sansa's exit was to dress himself. She hadn't forbid him from doing so in this case, after all, and having to sit nakedly upon the bed as she had grilled him for information while the guardsman Eroc had watched on had made him feel more vulnerable than he would have liked to have admit.
The wait for Sansa's return was turning into a really boring event by Ramsay's estimation. He paced the floor back a forth for a while initially, still occupied with the nervous energy the recent conversation with Sansa had filled him with, and then he had sat and tried to strike up a conversation with Eroc, who only grunted disdainfully at him.
Abandoning his attempts to communicate for leisure with someone who clearly didn't like him and additionally wasn't at all abashed about knocking Ramsay around for fun and sport, he went back to sitting in silence with nothing but his own circular thoughts to keep him company. Circular, because he still couldn't pin who might be out to kill him specifically.
Glancing around the room vainly as he had so very many times since his first imprisonment within the master chambers of the Stark's abode, his eye traversed their way along the familiar cracks of the place as he dolefully dwelled on his return to being a pet and slave of the Lady Sansa. He sighed, wondering if it might have been better to be assassinated.
At least then he could have died in a somewhat interesting fashion, and maybe the oddness of his murder in Stark custody would even help to erase or at least cover over some of the awful smear Sansa's actions had laid across his name. He shook his head before resting his chin miserably on his hand, the elbow of which rested on his knee.
No, he highly doubted that even something as scandalous as his untimely execution would probably only end up painting his memory forever in the eye of the populous of the seven kingdoms as a man even more miserably pathetic than he was certain they all saw him now. Ramsay grimaced at how those outside must see him.
Long periods of time to himself always came back to this; Ramsay brooding on what might have been, and how awful things had indeed become in reality. As he always did. Ramsay tried to remove his mind from such thoughts, but equally as usual, he failed miserably in the effort to do so and eventually returned to those same dreary thoughts.
Standing up suddenly with the intention of returning to his pacing, Ramsay heard the ringing sound of steel and turned to see a fully alert looking Eroc standing ready and glowering at him from across the room. Ramsay raised his hands, realizing that he had startled his newest guard, "Ah, just standing… a little jumpy there are we?"
Eroc grunted at him and returned the big blade smoothly to the sheath at his left hip, "Avoid sudden movements. Doing so enough will irritate me enough to do something about it."
Ramsay frowned, "So I'm not even allowed to move in the fashion that I please, despite being unarmed? I thought you wildlings weren't much for rules?"
Eroc scowled and strode a few steps over to where Ramsay was. The latter, startled by the larger man's sudden advancement, backpedaled until he struck the chair behind him, which he tripped over, falling into a clumsy heap at Eroc's feet. The big man spoke, "We aren't, but neither are we tolerant of nattering prisoners."
Ramsay, feeling embarrassed by his fumble over the chair and cowed by Eroc's intimidating physique towering so closely over him, simply nodded. Eroc stood there for a few moments more that seemed to Ramsay to stretch into a lifetime of waiting awkwardly, not even daring to rise, until finally the wildling returned to where he had been standing.
Eroc placed his arms crossed over his chest and leaned against the wall near to the door, watching Ramsay with a decided note of guarded disinterest. Ramsay stood himself up, rectifying the chair as he did so and patting himself down, still feeling a little sheepish over his clumsiness in the face of intimidation.
He returned to pacing as he had first intended, as he had when Sansa had first left the room, but despite the invigorating physical activity, he could not keep his thoughts from hurling back into a state of despondency. Fortunately for Ramsay, after walking this way for some time he began to feel exhausted.
After everything that had happened that day, with aching leg and sore shoulder protesting his choices in life, Ramsay slowly crawled into the bed, feeling so tired now that his mind and body had to react to this need despite his elevated state of anxiety. He did not bother to disrobe, deciding that when Sansa returned it might be best to have his garments on.
He sighed, knowing that would likely not stop or slow her should she decide to 'take him to bed' as she had so many times since that fateful day she had enlisted the castle smith to make a phallus for her. He glanced over at the silently brooding Eroc, wondering if she would ask him to leave before, or if the man might refuse…
Ramsay tried to shake himself of such thoughts, as dwelling on them did him no good. Best to wait to cross that bridge when I come to it, he thought. After all, thinking on it wasn't going to offer solutions. He frowned, thinking on the why of that mental statement; it was because Lady Sansa got what she wanted, and he doubted she'd stop because Eroc was watching.
Despite these terrible nagging thoughts, Ramsay's weary mind finally managed to find slumber within the dark, cool room of the castle. He awoke some time later with a start, realizing instantly that he had been sleeping for a while, and immediately glancing around for Sansa, almost expecting her to be waiting at the foot of the bed.
Ramsay wasn't sure why he felt guilty, since his reasoning mind told him he had done nothing wrong, but after her threat before he supposed he was especially tense about her being angry with him. As his eyes scanned the room, he realized that someone had lit a single candle that shown a soft yellow light on the chamber, but Sansa was not present.
The light of the candle did reflect in the whites of a large man's eyes though, and Ramsay could see that Eroc was still watching him, though now the big man was leaning on the wall opposite of the one he had been resting on when Ramsay had drifted off to sleep. Ramsay wasn't sure if his waking had drawn the man's gaze or if he had simply been watching Ramsay sleep.
Thought of the latter made Ramsay shudder uncomfortably, but his mind was already moving on to other thoughts that had to plague him now; where was Sansa that she would be gone all hours of the night? He cleared his throat, "Guard… have you received tidings from the Lady? It is strange for her to be gone so long…"
Eroc merely raised an eyebrow at Ramsay, choosing not to respond. Ramsay for his part started to become agitated by Eroc's general level of uncooperativeness, throwing the covers from himself in a bit of a huff as he rose quickly due to his annoyance. He regretted that choice immediately, clutching his sore shoulder and rubbing at his leg.
Sleeping had given his injured parts plenty of time to become stiff with inaction and now moving caused him a shocking level of pain. After a few moments awake and after being more careful with his movements the pain subsided back down to the usual tolerable dull ache he remembered from the evening prior.
Once this uncomfortable period passed he remembered what it was that had so aggravated him in the first place, and he turned his full attention to Eroc, his ire only fueled further by the bout of discomfort he had just endured, "I know that you feel no obligation to the Lady of the house, but if your small mind can fathom this; she pulls the strings out here."
Eroc unfolded his arms and stood away from the wall, glaring down at Ramsay in a dangerous way that caused the latter to gulp in nervous response, but he continued, feeling it might be best to get his message across sooner than later, "If you don't want to be consigned to mucking out the stables for the rest of your time here, you need to obey."
The big warrior simply stood there a moment, seeming to take his measure, and then he took a step towards Ramsay, "Are you telling me to fall in line, prisoner? Do you even realize how stupid you look right now?"
Despite his impulse to back away Ramsay stood his ground, deciding that perhaps intimidation was the only thing this savage would respond to, "Your mistress might be in peril for all we know; I see only one uncouth idiot between us."
Eroc stepped forward and raised his arm as if to backhand Ramsay, causing the latter to flinch, but he paused, seeming to decide against it. He lowered his arm and instead scratched at his bushy facial hair with his forefinger and thumb, "What a fancy word; uncouth. Created by an arrogant asshole from the south who wanted to feel superior I'm sure."
Eroc reached forward and gave Ramsay a gentle push. At least, it was perhaps gentle by Eroc's standards, but for the far smaller man it was a sizable application of force that left him careening backwards onto the bed behind him, "So now we only really have one question we need to answer; how shall I do it?"
Ramsay was breathing hard, his heart hammering against his ribs so hard he would have thought it would burst if the adrenaline pumping through him wasn't making him numb to all feeling, trapping the moment in a way that felt both fleeting and timeless. The wildling had called his bluff and the reality of things was all that remained.
Apparently, intimidation was a poor choice against a man who clearly chose physical deeds over words, and Ramsay wasn't going to be scaring anyone into submission in his current incarcerated and injured state, never mind a man that outweighed and outsized him by more than double. He suddenly felt very foolish for trying.
His eyes were wide as he responded a bit dully, his words ringing in his own ears since there was nothing intelligent he could think to say that might reverse the course that things now took, he could see the tensed readiness in the huge warrior's cording muscles, and he wondered numbly if he was about to die now, "…Do what?"
The warrior bellowed a hearty chuckle that didn't ring in the slightest as mirth and answered, "Punish you. How am I going to punish you?" The red-headed man glanced over at the phallus that Sansa had often used to sodomize Ramsay, "Shall I fuck you in the ass? The lady of the house whom you currently embarrass yourself over has enjoyed that often, yes?"
Ramsay's throat constricted as his eyes widened further; could this man actually be entertaining the idea of raping him? "I… I don't know where you got that assumption, but…"
Eroc's laughter, deep and menacing cut him off, "Don't lie to me little worm; I can see through you as if you were made of glass. Your reaction alone tells me all I need to know about our lady's secret pleasures."
He took a step closer to the bed and Ramsay scrambled back, quickly meeting the wall of the headboard behind him and far too close to the other man to risk trying to slip off of the bed to either side. Eroc would certainly take the action as flight and give pursuit, and where was Ramsay really to go being as he was a prisoner there?
The big man started speaking again, "That cock there though, there are limitations to what she can rightly do with it; maybe you need a man to make you his bitch, perhaps that will curb that annoying ego of yours?"
Ramsay shook him head vehemently, "N-no… No! That's not necessary… I promise to be good."
Eroc chuckled again, "Is it that easy to cow you then? No wonder Sansa has been going at it so long; it's rare to find a man so subservient."
This caused redness to flare in Ramsay's cheeks at Eroc's apparent accusation of weakness, "I-I think it's perfectly normal for a man not to wish being violated by another man. Please… I'll do what you say… let's start over shall we?"
Eroc laughed yet again, "Do I look like some fickle-minded northerner to you whose path can be redirected by words alone? Where I come from once you have erred there is nothing you can say to avoid getting what is coming to you." He glanced over to the table closest to the bed now, moving over to it and picking up the leather strap there.
The big warrior turned the simple leather strap over in his hand, seeming to test its weight with both his hands and eyes as he looked it over, "Lucky for you I don't fuck men, and you are certainly not my type if I did, so I think I'll consider the lady's other means of putting you back into your place, groveling as you so rightly should."
This new turn of events certainly wasn't getting sodomized, but Ramsay could not say that his heart leapt for joy at the prospect of the new suggestion, "She usually just comes to an agreement with me; after all we are all civilized here…"
Eroc shot him a poignant look, still smiling in a way that didn't touch his eyes, "Amazing that you still are finding ways to insult me; do you even realize you're doing it?"
Ramsay opened his mouth to respond but Eroc surged forward suddenly and clapped a hand over his mouth. Ramsay reacted by grabbing at the bed under him, but the huge wildling was already far too close for even the ill-conceived idea of flight to have merit. Eroc spoke, "Shhh, I grow tired of your lies; it is clear to me that statement wasn't even true. I don't see Sansa giving you any ground."
Eroc's face split with a wide, tiger's grin as he glared down at the helpless man unable to respond below him, "Yes this simple strap seems to make you squirm enough, so I will show you that even a backwards, stupid 'wildling' like me can perform acts of magic with words; I am going to hit you until all of your words fall out."
Ramsay wriggled in a desperate attempt to crawl away that he knew was destined to fail before he had even begun, but was unable to resist the temptation to try anyways in the face of Eroc's threat. Eroc easily caught him as he wildly gyrated towards the other side of the bed, hauling him back to the center with one hand in an almost effortless pull.
"Wait… wait! This really isn't your duty, guard; you overstep! You are meant only to watch over me, you have no authority to meet out such punishment. I'm telling you, you are confused about what goes on here, and you are making a huge mistake!"
Eroc pushed him hard into the bed against another attempt to wiggle free, wrapping an arm around Ramsay as he turned the smaller man around to face away from him into the bed. Eroc then rested himself upon his knees, holding Ramsay semi-suspended in his grip in a way that left the other man with little leverage, "Ha! If anyone is confused here it is you, little man. Do you think I care about any of that? I tell you what; I'll ask again in a few minutes…"
Ramsay let out a roar of indignant anger as Eroc ripped his pants from him so hard there was a tearing sound as some of the fabric that did not survive the brutal yank. Ramsay could feel the cool air of the room rush over his naked flesh and could also feel Eroc reaching his arm back to strike him with the strap, "D-don't you dare!"
Ramsay's warning had no effect on the actions of the giant guardsman though, which Ramsay should have known would be the case. If anything, it might only be adding fuel to the already considerable fire burning in Eroc's eyes, as the other man only growled at him and struck him again and again in response to his demands.
Ramsay bucked and kicked, and his back arched as Eroc mercilessly brought leather to flesh, but other than that and screaming, he was helpless to do anything to change his state; Eroc had him pinned tightly under his big arm, and there was no way for him to feasibly free himself. He was trapped. Ramsay screamed wildly once this feeling set in.
He gnashed his teeth and swore and threatened. He warned and reasoned, and finally he began to beg and plea, "P-please… why… why are you doing this?!"
There was a humorless rumble from deep in the big man, "Because you so obviously needed it. I'm glad that Sansa chose a kiddie punishment for you; it fits you."
"Please… I'll behave; just set me down, and you won't hear another word from me… I'll be as quiet as a mouse!"
Eroc only shook his head in the negative, "I told you I'm going to make all your words fall out; once I've done this enough you'll stop talking alright."
"No…Noooooo…." Ramsay did what he could to gird himself for what was coming but there wasn't really any practical way to do that. Eroc shifted underneath him, laying Ramsay over his lap so that Eroc at least could be more comfortable. He was settling in for the long haul, Ramsay knew. He tried to roll away as Eroc did so, but the big man easily caught him.
"You keep squirming like that if you want, but don't think I'm not going to make you regret it."
The strap came down hard and Ramsay yowled in pain. Eroc brought the leather down with a great deal more force than Sansa did, overriding the fact that he didn't have her particular finesse for finding Ramsay's weak spots by bludgeoning him so hard that the sting of it shook him to the core. There was no way he wouldn't be bruised after this.
Perhaps even terribly bruised; maybe he could convince Sansa of this maniac's savagery and not only evade whatever she might have in store for him but also remove himself of the brutish oaf? A possibility that had to enter his mind, but which was having difficulty being entertained while still in the middle of receiving said bruises.
He was ready by this point to say or do anything Eroc wanted, so long as the big man would release him, because for whatever reason he seemed to be hitting Ramsay in a manner that suggested he was waiting for something. At least Ramsay had to hope that he was waiting for something and not just planning to hit him indefinitely…
"I-I'm sorry… please I'm sorry…"
Ramsay apologized in every way and manner that he could, as sincerely as he could, so that he shook with the sincerity of his apology, but Eroc didn't budge an inch, only grunting at him as his hand continued to steadily apply that awful leather to Ramsay's ass.
"Why are you doing this… what do you want… please… s-stop, I'll do what you want I swear… just tell me what you want!" The other man didn't respond and Ramsay found himself at wit's end; did Eroc actually want anything? The notion that the big man might just be hitting him for the joy of doing so resurfaced in his mind.
He tried to think of what else he might say or do but nothing came to him, only impeded thoughts that had trouble floating through the haze of pain that his incredibly heated and sensitive backside sent him. He ducked his head and took the beating as best he could at that point, finally succumbing to the fact that he had no options.
In that state, weary from the act of tensing against the painful shots to his ass, physically drained from shouting and flexing in futile attempts of escape, he gave himself over finally to the humiliation this entire scene created in him, and he wallowed in his own self-pity and self-disgust. How had he allowed this to happen?
All he had wanted was to… what had he wanted? Ramsay wasn't sure anymore. Something about finding out where Sansa was; was that what this was all over? No… no this really started when he had taken offense at what the big man had said and even more so in the way that he had said it. When it boiled down to it, this was about pride.
His pride had caught him up and landed him into another fine mess this time. Thinking this caused Ramsay to feel a sting in his heart that couldn't go unanswered in his face, and he wiped at his eyes as tears rose unbidden to pester him. The more he tried to push the feeling away the harder it lodged itself within him though.
With the grinding relentless forward motion of a machine his tears continued to flow and the pangs in his heart continued to wash over him in waves. Why couldn't he be entitled to even a small sliver of pride anymore? Since when did the untamed savages from the north come down to tell men of noble blood like him what to do?
The sound of leather smacking flesh filled the room, filled Ramsay's head. And how was it that this one was able to do such things to him? He wept then, his cries matching his tears as he was finally unable to mask the full extent of his grief. His ragged, mournful calls were what now filled the room, and it took Ramsay a few moments to realize Eroc had stopped hitting him.
Ramsay clambered to his feet once he decided that Eroc wasn't poised to stop him, pulling his now tattered pants back onto himself while moving cautiously away from the other man. Ramsay caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror opposite the bed; he was stooped over, shaking as he clutched his pants to himself.
He in no way represented the man he had once been; this sniveling, broken thing drove him to feel a wave of bitter pity for himself. He saw the fear in his own eyes that he had come to expect from his former subjects; that fear that he had lived to compel from others was in turn being compelled from his own person.
Ramsay's face turned down in a severe, unhappy frown, and he wiped bitterly at the wetness on his face that stung his pride just as much as the very physical sting he could still feel quite pointedly on his posterior. Eroc stood, stepping clear of the bed and drawing close to Ramsay, which caused the smaller man to flinch reactively.
Eroc didn't say anything for long moments that could have been minutes to Ramsay for the way the silence made him feel; shaky and uneasy, tensed for the next awful thing that might go wrong is his already turned upside down life. He couldn't help but wonder if Eroc was perhaps enjoying his fear as he used to enjoy it in others.
The way that the large red-haired warrior acted certainly lent credibility to the idea that he had a sadistic, mean streak the likeness of the one that Ramsay had once so thoroughly enjoyed. Was that what he was doing now, allowing the awkward silence do the work of intimidation for him just to watch Ramsay squirm?
His face was impassive, the set of his strong jaw and intense eyes unreadable to Ramsay, whether because the bigger man was a native of the frozen lands and therefore a culture of expression beyond Ramsay's ability to read, or because he was intentionally masking his mood to keep Ramsay guessing he did not know.
Ramsay had often employed similar tactic to the art of scaring people; when people couldn't read you, and you seemed to act impulsively and erratically, it put others on edge, made you truly unpredictable and a dangerous, unstable wild card. Kept folks tense to smile when you should frown, be silent when you should speak.
Eroc caused him to jump when he did speak, which had still only been enough moments for Ramsay to formulate these thoughts, and he watched the bearded warrior with wide eyes, "I'm going to keep this simple, as I have always done, though now even a clever southerner like you should be able to understand me…"
He reached both of his hands out, taking Ramsay by the shoulders before the smaller man could move away. He flinched at the touch and then went very still, like a mouse that had been caught in the coiled grip of a snake. Eroc now had his undivided attention, which seemed to be what the big man wanted, as he looked him in the eye.
"After all of this, do you now understand the nature of where you stand?"
Ramsay gulped, hurrying to respond when he saw that Eroc was starting to frown, evidently impatient with Ramsay's lack of haste in response, so he quickened his words, "Y-yes… yes I now understand."
The big man released Ramsay's shoulders, and the latter let out a sigh of relief, "Good."
With that Eroc turned and moved back to the place he had last been standing before the whole affair with the spanking had started and leaned against it once more with his arms folded as he had before, as if nothing at all had happened. It was as if he had been there the whole while by his bored expression; nothing of note.
Well, except for the way that Ramsay felt perhaps, as he remained standing where he was for a few more moments, still shaken and very much under the influence of the rushing of his own blood after all that had transpired, not to mention the painful stinging throb that continued to pulse from his bottom under his pants.
He felt no desire to sit, especially since the seat of him indicated that doing so would likely be painful, maybe for some time even. At the same time, he didn't want to remain where he had been when Eroc had given him the end of his pointed and scalding message. Deciding that pants were first on the agenda he went to the dresser.
Sansa had a number of items, trousers and the like that he could wear, though nothing as fine as the pair of breeches that Eroc had so efficiently ruined. Ramsay still wore his deeply disappointed frown as he searched through what was available to find something that would be adequate enough to house his lower body.
He slipped into the new cloth slowly, hissing a little once he brought the pants over the rounded shape of his ass; even the finely woven fabric was painful to the touch, Eroc had bruised him so thoroughly. Eroc didn't respond to Ramsay's discomfort, but Ramsay still wasn't certain that the man wasn't taking quiet, hidden glee at his discomfort.
Once this was done Ramsay could start feeling at least a little changed from the man who had been cowering before him in the mirror across the room, though he still not dare to glance at his reflection again, so scared was he of seeing that frightened image once more. He started to pace a bit to vent his nervous energy.
Nervous energy he had in abundance, not only due to the most recent incident with Eroc but a culmination of all of the untoward things that he had been faced with recently. At first, it seemed that pacing might help vent some of that unwanted anxiety, a way to physically divert himself as he thought out how to better his situation.
But this was not the case, as he could not clearly think for long before the discomfort brought on by his fresh bruises made him have to stop pacing in order to settle himself. Just the activity of walking back and forth along the room caused him unease, as the fabric of his trousers grated against the raw flesh of his buttocks.
He scowled, even daring to turn that look of resentment towards Eroc for a moment, being as it was entirely the big man's fault that he was faced with the feeling of ire in the first place, but he quickly changed his tune and looked away when Eroc stepped away from the wall and gave him an expression of mild interest that frankly terrified Ramsay.
He certainly wasn't aiming for a second round of what had so recently occurred, so Ramsay sat on the bed, averting his eyes and regretting putting his weight on his tortured backside as he grimaced. He did his best to avoid seeming challenging, and to his great relief Eroc seemed to take in his defeated expression and returned to bored guard duty.