Moonās QueenĀ ~ Ramsay Bolton x Tyrell!Reader ***
This is lowkey N.S.F.W., but not only.Ā
Basically, the reader goes up North for the first time, takes a liking to a certain Bastard and he shows her the beauty of the Snow Land, only for Myranda to butt her nose and try to kill poor reader... Who only gets the most royal treatment from the bastard~
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āIs there really any place better than the ethereal gardens of our capital?ā Y/N asked, twirling barefoot on the green grass, as she bathed in the warm caress giveth by the Sun. āI agree, My Lady. The beauty of the Reach is known all over Westeros, and even far beyond the borders.ā Y/Nās maid smiled, looking at the joyful maiden. āLeana, come over, come over - Have you heard that rumours? They say some lords from the North are going to arrive soon. I wonder the purpose for their long journey. Surely, if it were not important, a Lord would not be making such a tedious trip.ā Y/N turned abruptly towards her maid and grabbed her hands gingerly, yet her smirk was mischievous, like that of a playful vixen. āMy Lady, please, for the love that you bore me and your Lady mother, behave as a lady should. Such wicked curiosity is unbecoming of someone of your status. Not to mention, you are not even betrothed yet, grace of your Lord Fatherās love for you and your... Adventurous side, let us name it that way, as to avoid words unspeakable for a lady --ā though the maid continued reproaching her, Y/N already was far away, as she had seen the retinue making their way towards the castle.
Keeping her distance from the main road, Y/N ran along, inspecting the banners - Of course, as the eldest daughter of the Tyrell Lord, she was well educated. She just didnāt bother acting the part. Thus, she easily spotted the main banners of the Stark and Bolton family, along with some of their vassals and other lesser... Far less important lords that were hardly worth caring for.
She at least could realise why her father wanted to keep this as a surprise - He always loved surprising her with the newest things out there, even if that meant some new lordlings visiting with sons and daughters her age so that she would make new friends, should they be willing to.
Unable to contain her excitement any further, the young lady of barely eight and ten years of age bursted through the front doors of the Castle and ran all the way to the throne room, where she saw her father greeting Lord Stark and Lord Bolton, while their children and the lesser lords were one step, or even two,Ā behind. Y/N grinned widely as she skipped to her lord fatherās side, hugging his side and wearing the most charming and innocent expression a daughter could make to melt her fatherās old heart, as she kissed his cheek.
āSweet father, what a pleasant surprise! To think that we would be guesting visitors from so far away! How very exciting!ā then, she turned to the two older men and did a pretty curtesy, despite not wearing any shoes and wearing a light, simple dress.Ā āYou must be Lord Stark and Lord Bolton - It is a pleasure meeting you and your envoy.ā Eddard Stark was the first to step forward and kiss her hand, with the other one following right behind. Her father guffawed mirthfully and put his hand on her back, while with the other, he pointed to the children of those lords.Ā āY/N, darling, why donāt you entertain the young guests? They must be tired after such a tiresome journey. Show them to their room and then guide them down for the feast, will you?ā with a pat on her head, the girl nodded with a bright smile and skipped towards the other ones, some her age, while some, much younger than her. āIf you would be so kind as to follow me - Ah, of course, where are my manners, do excuse me. My name is Y/N Tyrell and I am the eldest daughter of my Lord Father, Mace Tyrell, and my Lady Mother, Alerie Hightower. I have four other siblings - Willas, who is the oldest one, Garlant, my dear twin brother, Loras, who is by far, the prettiest young man the Reach has ever seen, and my sweet sister Margaery, who rivals any flower in Westeros.ā Y/N continued to speak, not daring yet to get a better look at the young ones whom she was guiding - She wanted to take each of them through a detailed lens, once the feast began, so she could see what kind of people they truly are, despite their frail age.
Despite her reticence, she could already see their personalities shine, more or less individually - While Robb was more sober and chivalrous, Jon, the bastard of Lord Stark, was rather timid and dared not speak. Sansa was the definition of the perfect lady, whilst young Arya was an adventurous, playful soul, just like her.
And then, there was Ramsay Snow, Roose Boltonās bastard and only child, and much possibly, the one that will become his heir and take over the Dreadfort... This one was... Odd, to say the least. Handsome, charming, well-natured, rather funny and an outright gentleman - He even seemed interested in her passions and anything that she has to say, unlike the other two boys.
Was Roose Bolton trying to have his child court her, for a better claim to get his bastard legitimized? How intriguing.
By the time evening came through, Y/N was already bathed, oiled in the most fragrant, sweet perfumes and garbed in the most beautiful light blue and gold dress, making her shine even more beautifully than the colourful flowers that were braided into her long, shiny hair that cascaded down her back in velvety waves as she entered the feast room and sat between Sansa and Arya (asked by their Lord Father, in hopes that they would stop their on-going feud), with the three visitor boys sitting opposite of them. Margaery and Loras were chatting somewhere closer to their mother, while Willas, Garlan and his wife were having a pleasant conversation at the other end of the table.
"I would love to ask you how do you find Highgarden so far, yet that would be just silly of me. You are far too tired for a walk through the gardens, though I promise you that, on the morrow, I shall be guiding you through all of the beautiful places that the proximity has to offer. There is truly nothing better in life than to feast your eyes on the beauty and art that life has to offer.ā the girl smiled serenely, as if she was completely unaffected by anything tainted in this world. Ramsay Snow, with those gargoyle blue eyes, was staring at her with wonder and intrigue - There was also something else, rather foreign for him... A kind of hunger that he had never experienced, no matter how many pretty girls passed through his hands and bed.Ā
Was it his intuition? That there was something far more sinister about this young girl that hid behind wet fawn eyes? Something that was hidden away from anyone to see? Surely, there was no human capable of being this... Sickeningly soft and sweet and whatever other feminine words that are hammered down into a womanās brain from birth.
No - Perhaps, not EVERY woman. Myranda cursed like a sailor and her speech was dirty and vulgar, unlike her pretty face and fragile body. She could easily break, just like all of them, no matter the vocabulary they used. Pathetic.
Still, he was outright fascinated, and he wanted dearly to see whether this Tyrell girl was made, inside and out, of flowers and perfume - If honeyed wine was surging through her veins, because if so, heād get drunk on her blood, and feast on her supple, tender body like a madman.
āLady Y/N, did you make your dress yourself?ā Sansa asked with a shy smile, admiring the fine craftsmanship - The fashion style and hair styles were so different down south, compared to those in the north. āNot entirely, though, I suppose I could, if I put my mind to. I love embroidery, but I do not much fancy tailoring as a whole. Whenever I want to pass some time, I go in the garden and embroider whatever designs I am inspired to on a new dress that the seamstresses make for me.ā the girl answered truthfully, allowing the red haired beauty to trace the golden, intricate designs with her soft fingertips. āSee? She said she hates tailoring! Sheās on my side!ā Arya blurted in a bratty voice, making her two brothers lean on each other, to hide their chuckling. āNo! She said she loved embroidery, sheās nothing like you, you dirty sewer rat!ā Sansa gritted her teeth at her younger sister, latching her arms onto the Tyrell girlās arm. āOh my, oh my, what do we have here, a little sister feud. I see that sweet Sansa is rather fond of feminine arts... But you, Arya, are not. Could it be that you prefer a... Different kind ofĀ āneedleworkā? Could it be that, should you have been born a male, you could have easily defeated your two sniggering brothers over there?ā Y/N raised her hand to her mouth, humming in amusement at their family interactions. āWhat?! You mean you like sparring too? And archery? And horse-riding? And fencing? And --ā Aryaās eyes became wide like saucers from absolute amazement. āNo way Lady Y/N enjoys something so brutish and barbaric as that! Look at her, sheās such a fine and delicate lady - Thereās no scar or bruise on her skin, and her hands arenāt even pricked by needles!ā Sansa tried to defend her own vision of the Tyrell girl, who only shook her head. āIt is a wide belief that people should be owners of a variety of skills, of the widest ranges. Be it that I am arranging flowers with my sweet sister, or sparring with young Loras, if I am discussing history, art and philosophy with my eldest brother, or winning riding contests against my darling twin, it matters little. Those skills need not be necessarily mastered to the maximum degree possible, but they should at least be known, for the most part.ā she explained as gracefully as she could, hoping that both sisters would be pacified... Somehow.
However, they only began arguing more, making Y/N lean backwards to allow them to face each other better. With a low chuckle, she slipped her way out of there, sharing an amused look with the three boys opposite of her, before she stole a plate filled with small cakes, tarts and pastries and making her way outside, so she could take a stroll through the garden, the dimly lit lamps and the silvery light of Mother Moon being the only source of light.
The sound of rapid footsteps on the cobbled street, however, made the corners of her mouth turn upward in amusement as she continued to walk, seemingly unassuming, until the owner of those steps jumped right in front of her - Yet she did not flinch - Instead, she took a strawberry tart and popped it into his mouth.
āDo you have strawberries up North, Lord Ramsay?ā the manās eyes were wide, yet nowhere near matching Aryaās previous shock. With a huff, he gulped down the bite-sized tart and nodded his head in approval. āI have to admit, My Lady, that I have never tasted anything as delicious as this tart. I may have not realised entirely the benefits of living in the most prosperous land in Westeros. There are many a fruit and vegetables that are foreign to me, who has not left the North until now.ā he spoke, side-stepping so he could walk next to her.Ā āI can only assume Highgarden is a most safe land, otherwise, a gorgeous lady such as yourself would be afraid of walking the dark gardens, unattended by anyone.ā he assumed, stealing another cake, this one, a pomegranate one. āYes, you are correct, My Lord. There have been no assaults in Highgarden, since I have been born. I often stroll through the gardens at night - I have found it a rather relaxing and enjoyable hobby of mine - And through none of these promenades of mine, have I ever needed to make use of my hidden weapon, thankfully for whatever fool might be out there.ā she explained nonchalantly, entering a large garden filled with only white flowers that almost seemed to glow in the moonlight. The girl sat down on the grass and looked up at the moon, letting the plate on the ground, and she smiled.Ā āDo you know what flower this is, Lord Ramsay?ā she asked, a serene and peaceful expression on her face, as the man sat down next to her. āNo, I dare say, I do not. We do not have such majestic flowers in my lands.ā he answered, examining and analysing her face as if she was some kind of Moon Nayad. āThey are called theĀ āMoonās Queenā, for they only open their petals during the night, if they receive this silvery light.ā her smile felt as serene as the moon - Was she some kind of Moon Goddess that thrived best in the night light? Or, perhaps, some kind of witch, for she completely enchanted him. Getting up from the ground, she waltzed to one of the bigger flowers, and taking a dagger hidden within her hairās braids, she cut it short and returned to the man.Ā āThe petals are even softer than a roseās - And unlike one, they have a sweet perfume smell. But they are shy, and not many people know of them, hence why this flower is always... Forgotten. It can only be white, unlike the rose, which can grace every colour there is, hence why, it is the most loved and praised flower, especially here - Our symbol is a golden rose, after all.ā the girl was kneeling on the ground in front of him, the flower nestling beautifully on her two joined palms - In the light, it looked as if it was glowing. āYou said your sister was namedĀ āThe Rose of Highgardenā, as she is the most beautiful woman in the Reach. I beg to disagree. Roses are common, and boring - One can find them anywhere. They are even freely given at jousting tourneys.ā Ramsay spoke, carefully taking the flower, and fixing it into her hair.Ā āBut I think true beauty is hidden away from the common eye. The most endearing things are the mysteries you unveil yourself.ā though her eyes were cast down, and a soft blush was painted on her cheeks, the bastard could see the enigmatic smile that was painted on those sweet lips of hers - He was convinced they were even softer, and more velvety than even the petals of this flower - And oh, how he wanted to test that theory for himself. āThen, how would you name me, Lord Ramsay~?ā her eyes slowly met his, and for a moment there, he had forgotten how to breathe. Those sparkling, beautiful eyes of hers were so full of life, so mischievous - He was more and more curious how would she react to seeing a man flayed before her. āThe Queen of the Moon.ā the man gingerly held her chin, leaning it down, enough to plant a kiss on her forehead.
The next day, after a hearty breakfast, they were to have a ride through the forest, along with her brothers. Willas preferred to stay on the side and have good chats with his father and the other two Lords, while Garlan was already out with his Lady wife. That left Margaery to entertain Sansa, who didnāt want to get her dress dirty in the woods, even though she would have gladly ridden with Loras. At least, with Margaery, who was her age, she could chat for hours and walk through the gardens.
Arya, however, jumped up and down in excitement and insisted she rides with Y/N, who could only chuckle and agree, despite Robb and Jon shaking their head at the young girlās stubbornness.Ā
The young ones had a lot of fun, riding and hunting game, then at night, the royal kitchen would make a feast from their triumphant victory. Unfortunately for everyone, the retinue had to return back home after a week, and though it felt like barely a few moments had passed, it was time for them to leave...
But not without the Stark Lord inviting the Highgarden Lord and his children over in the North - The reasons mattered little - Y/N was more than excited to see the beauty of the North, as Ramsay had described it, especially after he, himself, had invited the girl while in private. Since the day that the envoy left, Y/N was all over her father, telling him to start preparing for the long journey up the Kingās Road, all the way to Winterfell.
Moments passed like hours, hours like days and days like weeks, and than months, but finally, after far too many months of waiting, Mace Tyrell allowed his eldest daughter to go first up North, for a brief journey towards the Dreadfort - Though the man wasnāt too happy that his sweet Y/N has become smitten with a bastard, he knew very well that Lord Bolton was the second most powerful man in the North, and was fighting hard to get his son ligitimised. He hated the idea of settling for second best, but at the same time, his darling had never been status-ambitious like her grandmother or her youngest sister, preferring to enjoy life to the fullest - And, of course, how could he deny his darling Y/N the freedom of falling in love, something all nobles had been prived of for so many centuries on end? Though she has never proven to be a romantic, Mace and Alerie both hoped that, just like her twin brother, Y/N would meet a man that will make her feel like a maiden from the bardsā love stories, like Florian and Jonquil.
Y/N was warmly welcomed in the Dreadfort by none other than the Snow boy himself, who wore a large, excited smile on his face, and he gallantly invited the lady inside the humble abode, as he called it - How could he compare his small fort to the gracious palace of the Highgarden, after all? Not wealth, nor grandeur could come anywhere close to what he had witnessed in the beautiful South.
However much Ramsay wished to get her inside, out of the harsh cold that was reddening her cheeks even more so than the red roses that grew wild, as soon as she heard the squealing of dogs, she found herself rushing towards the kennels. There, Ramsay noticed, she completely ignored Myrandaās presence and ran past her, to the kennel of one bitch that had just gave birth less than a month ago.Ā āMy~... Arenāt you so beautiful?ā the bastard watched the fascination emanating from the girl - Did she truly love dogs so much, he wondered? Was she maybe that much of an innocent girl, and he misjudged her? āDo you have a death wish, or are you just plain dumb?!ā Myranda angrily shrieked at the beautiful lady, shocked at how boldly she knelt by the bitchās side.Ā āYou donāt just go next to a bitch that just gave birth! It will think youāre trying to harm her pups and she will attack you. Itās common knowledge!ā however much Ramsay wanted to slap Myranda for speaking with such insolence with his sweet flower, he couldnāt help but notice Y/N taking her furs off and creating a blanket for the dog and her puppies.Ā āThere, there, you must be cold, arenāt you, darling? All better now, isnāt it? Sweet lady, you must eat well and keep warm if you and your babies want to keep strong.ā he watched as the dog sniffed Y/Nās palm, only to lean its head onto it... Acting like a spoiled pup, melting in the caring, loving touch of the nurturing lady.Ā āWh-What the hell are you doing -- Are you insane?! You canāt -- You canāt just -- Thatās our most aggressive bitch, you canāt just tame her like that, sheāll become useless!ā the kennel masterās daughter roughly grabbed at Lady Tyrellās dress, pulling her away from the dogs - Though much surprising was that the bitch rose and started growling menacingly at her. Myranda could only stare at the bitch in shock and slight fear - None of the dogs ever dared growl at her, let alone snarl and bare their fangs at her. She was the dog whisperer! The one tasked with taking care of her beloved Lord Ramsayās precious bitches! How dare that... That whore interfere! How dare she mess everything?! āMyranda.ā the woman froze, feeling complete dread take over her senses.Ā āIt is clear that Lady Tyrell here is far more competent with dogs than you, the kennel masterās own daughter, are.ā a bead of sweat ran down her forehead from the sheer pressure of his stern, ice-cold voice.Ā āIf even the dogs are going against you for your silly mistake, then I believe you should leave for the day. I and Lady Y/N will be taking care of them for now.ā āB-But R-Ramsay, I-- I--... Sh-She---ā the skinny womanās otherwise dominant and harsh eyes became wide with fear as her master stepped closer to her, those gargoyle-like eyes staring deep into her soul, and for a second there, she could see herself being flayed alive. āLeave.ā he ordered.Ā āI will think of a proper punishment later.ā with a flick of his gloved hand, Myranda whimpered and ran out of the kennels. Ramsay took a deep breath before kneeling by Y/Nās side.Ā āForgive her, My Lady, she overreacted. She wasnāt aware of who you are, otherwise she wouldnāt have spoken out of line.ā Y/N smiled softly at him, before pulling him towards the dog.Ā āIt is quite alright, I donāt mind. In fact, it was I who was in the wrong. Lady Myranda tried to warn me, though my recklessness could have cost me my hand, or perhaps worse.ā Ramsay looked into those glimmering eyes, and without much thinking, he grasped her chin and forced her to look at him - It earned a growl from the bitch, though Y/N pat her head enough to calm her down. āIncompetent slaves ought to be reprimanded and put in their place, My Sweet Lady, otherwise they grow bold and misbehave.ā his tone changed to a more whispery one, which only seemed to grow her own smile. āIt is not up to me to reprimand a servant that is not of mine own, especially as she simply tried to save me from a sure mauling.ā he could see the corner of her mouth twitch upwards, just a little bit.Ā āAfter all... Slaves and bastards arenāt too different in the eyes of the people, are they?ā Ramsayās eyes seemed to flash, grabbing her face closer to his, only for the dog to outright bark at him.Ā āMy Beautiful Lady resembles the flower with her own name - Beautiful, yet poisonous and deadly. Perhaps I ought to reconsider the nickname I address you as.ā āSweet Ramsay, I think Lady Dog is trying to tell you that you should be more gentle with me.ā she softly put her hand over his, releasing the grasp on her face.Ā āAfter all, Iām just a little lady, frail as a flower, and afraid of getting hurt.ā āDo you even believe your own lies, My Lady?ā Y/N smiled at him, tilting her head to the side, completely innocent - Though Ramsay knew that sparkle in her eyes very well - It was a challenge - She was provoking him. āYou once called me the Queen of the Moon, Sweet Ramsay - It wouldnāt bode well for you to treat me any less than that.ā the man scoffed, an amused smirk on his face as he took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders, bringing her closer to his body. āFlowers freeze in this cold, My Lady. You should come inside and warm yourself up. You must be tired after such a long journey, and Myrandaās less than optimal behaviour wasnāt the greeting that a princess like you deserves.ā the man helped her up, and with a hand placed on the middle of her back, he guided her inside the unexpectedly warm fort, into a cozy room, clean and already warm.Ā āI will have the servants bring you dinner here. The maids will know better than I, the kind of hospitality that a lady needs.ā he bowed his head at her slightly, watching as she went for the window, and she looked outside, a serene look on her face. āDoes it mean that youāre already leaving me alone? Well - I suppose I wonāt mind much. The view here is spectacular - And I have some puppies to care for, and books plenty to read. I doubt Iāll get bored, even without your great company.ā she hummed, not even sparing him a single glance. āYour room is across mine own.ā she neednāt look at him to feel the forming smirk on his face.Ā āFor any reason you wish to see me, I will be at your disposal, whatever hour of the day or night, my sweet lady.ā āThat is a proposal that I will be taking to heart. Thank you for such lovely and warm hospitality, my sweet Ramsay, I appreciate your kindness and care for me.ā she turned to him, holding her hand over her heart.Ā āIt is my first time here, up North, after all.ā he was so smitten with that soft, tender voice of hers - But more, he was head over heels with the mystery hidden behind that angelic facade of hers. āBy all means, my lady. Although the North isnāt as wealthy and welcoming as the South, we still strive to show its beauty, for there is plenty.ā with a charming smile, Ramsay left the room, allowing the girl to be attended to by the maid.
The maid was Myranda, Y/N realised with great amusement, and she was nowhere near as talkative as before, when sheād snapped at her. Y/N smiled sweetly at the dog caretaker, but it wasnāt difficult to realise that the reason for her muteness was the emotion she was failing so miserably to hide. She was so jealous.Ā
Was it her wealth? Her beauty and grace? Her noble status? - Or, perhaps, it was Ramsayās evident interest in the Tyrell girl that she was so envious of. Either way, it didnāt matter - Y/N was loving the torment storming behind those blue eyes - Those eyes of her were kinda pretty, Y/N thought, yet they somehow became incredibly dull on her. They didnāt fit her. She was dull.
With the expected curtesy, Myranda brought the tray of food and beverages inside the room, placing it carefully on the table next to the fireplace, yet despite how annoyingly chatty she previously was - Now, she remained silent. Good. Her voice was rather grating.
āMy Lady.ā unfortunately, she had to open mouth of hers - Y/N noticed she had applied some make up, and her lips were deep, blood red. Awful colour on her.Ā āMy Lord asked me to draw a bath for you after youāve eaten.ā āVery well, you may do so.ā the Tyrell beauty sat at the table and kept herself busy by reading a book whilst eating the tasty dishes. The meat was unexpectedly tender - Y/N was sure this must be some kind of venison done with a secret recipe that they didnāt have in the South. It was perfectly delicious, and the text was rather interesting - If only Myrandaās presence hadnāt been such a hindrance... At least her maids were better company and knew when to give her the much needed quiet, alone time that she so greatly needed - It was such a chore, engaging in social interactions. āYou are very beautiful, My Lady. Where are you from, if I may ask?ā Myranda spoke, sniffing the powerful, sweet floral perfume. āHighgarden.ā one of Y/Nās maids spoke in her stead, not wanting their lady to be interrupted whilst busy.Ā āLady Y/N Tyrell is the most beautiful maiden in the Reach.ā Leana smiled dearly at her lady. āAh!ā Y/N snapped her head towards her friend.Ā āMargy is!ā Leanaās smile widened.Ā āMy Lady, forgive me for disagreeing with you - Whilst Lady Margaery is, indeed, the Rose of Highgarden, I cannot help but find your beauty above any word from every vocabulary in Westeros, and beyond.ā āYou flatter me so, my sweet Leana, you neednāt!ā Y/N hid her flustered face with the book she was reading. āThere were others before you. All of them just as beautiful, or maybe even more than you.ā Myrandaās eerily soothing voice spoke, her fingers tracing the water, feeling its temperature.Ā āYou are not that special to him... My Lady.ā she offered Lady Tyrell a small, venomous smile.Ā āLord Ramsay gets bored very quickly.ā Whilst Leana was ready to speak up and defend her lady, Y/N simply smiled sweetly at Myranda, gesturing for her maid to remain quiet.Ā āIs that so? Thank you, I will keep that in mind, erh--...ā Y/N smiled wider, taunting her.Ā āWhat was your name again? Meera? Maria?ā āMyranda, My Lady.ā the girl almost snapped. Y/N let out a smallĀ āahā sound, though the kennel master could see that she was acting.Ā āRight. A name as dull as you. It fits you!ā she said.Ā āWill you tell me about these ladies that preceded me, then?ā Y/N could see the way Myranda was trying so hard not to break her composure, and with each twitch of her face, she was feeling more and more ecstatic.Ā āLetās see... There was Kyra, the blacksmithās daughter. She was taller than you, with a lovely figure... But... She talked, and... Talked and talked... And Ramsay grew tired of that.ā Myranda spoke, adding more boiled water to the tub.Ā āAnd then there was Violet... She had gorgeous blonde hair... Well... She got pregnant, and - That was boring.ā she chuckled lightly.Ā āThen... Tansy... Such a sweet girl, much like you.ā Myranda grinned.Ā āOf course, sweet girls get a bit... Dull... After a while, donāt they?ā she stared deep into Y/Nās eyes, hoping to see the fright and alert. There was nothing but twinkling of amusement.Ā āRamsay let me come with him on that hunt.ā āThen, when is it your turn?ā Myrandaās smile faltered in surprise.Ā āI wonder if I need to do anything more than batting my pretty lashes at him, to let me come to your hunt. Iām a pretty good shot, you know, he even praised me when we went hunting last month.ā she giggled sweetly.Ā āJust because youāre a new hyper-obsession of his, doesnāt mean youāll last. They all exhausted their use fairly quick. Itās their fault for being boring. Noble women like you, especially, are the most dull of all. No personality, no interests - You just sit in a corner, have a pretty smile and you embroider some handkerchief.ā Myranda shot to her feet immediately, not realising her outburst. āIf Iām the new obsession, it just means youāre old news. Remember how he scolded you earlier today? He didnāt seem too happy with you. Were you... Jealous, Marla?ā the woman spat her name again, correcting her.Ā āAh, yes, forgive me - It is not easy remembering such a stale name.āĀ āHe promised to marry me! Ramsay always kept his promises to me!ā she almost looked like a bratty child, with angry tears making her eyes gleam. āAnd you truly believed that?ā Y/N widened her eyes, letting out a fake, dramatic gasp as she got up and called for Leana to unlace her dress.Ā āOh, sweet girl, how naive must you be - So blind and deaf, so muddle-headed, to think that the man whoās trying to get himself legitimised as the next Lord Bolton would actually spare you another glance once he gets that title and will realise how absolutely tiresome your ugly jealousy is. He wonāt have any time for the silly temper tantrums of a dumb, little girl who thinks she is going to marry the man of her dreams.ā Y/N hummed in amusement, feeling the water-like material of her dress falling down to the ground, revealing her gorgeous silhouette and harmonious curves in all their glory, only to take in another sharp inhale, once she noticed the gears of Myrandaās brain working, fear and doubt overwhelming her, as well as a sense of perfect inferiority, seeing the Goddess body of the Tyrell woman.Ā āNo, donāt tell me...ā she said, pitying her.Ā āYou thought that... By offering him your flower, he was truly going to commit to you? Oh, darling, you sweet, sweet girl - How foolish can you get? Donāt you know that mundane, predictable thoughts like these are...ā Y/N grinned wickedly, making Myrandaās blood freeze in her bloodstream.Ā āBoring.ā
Myranda felt her heart stop, and with a kind of uneasiness that she hasnāt felt in a long time, she quickly left the room, allowing Y/N and her maids to giggle and continue gossiping and making fun of the kennel masterās daughter. What a delusional girl.
Y/N stepped into the hot water and allowed the steam to soothe her tired muscles, just allowing her maid to clean her and oil her with the sweetest perfumes that the South can create. Once it got late enough into the night, Y/N, wearing a light sleeping gown that would have been perfect for the Reach, yet not so much for the chilly nights of the North - Draping herself in furs yet remaining barefoot, she swiftly stepped out of the room and with a soft knock, she creaked open the door, calling out his name.Ā āSweet Ramsay, are you awake?ā He must have been asleep, as he hadnāt answered to her whispery voice - It only made Y/N bolder, closing the door behind her and quietly tip-toe to his bed. His pretty face was being illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the window, though Y/N could only stare at the man sleeping without his shirt, and she felt a cold shiver down her spine - Were all Northmen so cold resistant, she wondered.
She crouched by his face and trailed the back of her fingers by his sculpted jaw. He looked so peaceful and innocent sleeping, it was like he was a whole other person.Ā āMy Sweet Ramsay, are you having nice dreams?ā Unexpectedly, her hand got grabbed, and with outstanding force and another hand on her body, she got pulled into the manās tight arms.Ā āThey are, now that youāre here.ā his low, husky voice spoke.Ā āWere you missing me so much that you couldnāt sleep, my sweet flower?ā āYes.ā she breathed out, already feeling her body warm under the furs, held flush against his hot body. āSo genuine. Very endearing.ā Y/N could feel his body shaking softly from one attractive chuckle.Ā āYou were cold, werenāt you?ā āO, youāve found me out!ā she nuzzled in the crook of his neck.Ā āI didnāt mean to appear as though Iām trying to make use of you... Though I cannot deny that I am already feeling so much better.ā āHad that useless wench forgotten to do the fire in your room?ā the man grumbled. āThat must have been my fault - I think I upset Lady Myranda with my teasing. She walked away with tears in her eyes. I called her name, but... I think I really made her sad. Forgive me, sweet Ramsay.ā that sickly sweet voice of hers only made him scoff in mock amusement. āWhatever you said to her, sheāll get over it.ā he seemed harsh.Ā āThere is no wrong you can do here, especially against some slave girl that canāt even do her job right.ā āPlease, sweet Ramsay, donāt be so harsh with her - It is not her fault that she is still dreaming like a little girl.ā the man hummed questioningly.Ā āShe was so happy, speaking about you, I couldnāt help but tease her a little - You know, like friends. Alas, I think I must have gone a bit over board for someone who isnāt as close to me as any of my friends back home.ā āWhat kind of idiocy has she bored you with?ā Ramsay was now wide awake, already thinking of a way to punish that stupid slut.Ā āNo, No, my darling, love is not something boring, nor is the sweet promise of a happy marriage!ā Y/N shifted up, resting on her forearms to get a better look at the man.Ā āShe seemed so delighted, thinking about you and your future together. It was so precious, mind you.ā Ramsay remained quiet for a few seconds.Ā āYou have gone quiet, sweet Ramsay - Have I... Bored you already?ā The man took a sharp breath, his hands finding their rightful place, cupping her cheeks.Ā āYou could never bore me, My Sweet Flower. I was just wondering the extent of Myrandaās delusions. Stupid girl believes everything anyone tells her - Itās as if she is incapable of thinking.ā āAhh, no wonder she was so convinced you loved her the most.ā Ramsay was almost fascinated with the way she pretended to care for Myrandaās feelings, but the mocking sweet tone with which she was talking only made it even more amusing, were it not for the internal anger he felt simply thinking about that wretch. āDid she speak ill of you in any way?ā he asked, his voice almost showing his rage and how close he was to marching up and wringing her neck like a pigeonās. āOh no, not at all! Though she did mention some other ladies. One tall with a lovely figure, though very talkative. The other, she said, got pregnant... And the last one was a sweet girl, just like me - And, just like me, she was also incredibly boring - Or so Myranda described them. Ah... What were their names... Forgive me, I cannot remember their names... No, wait - I think one of them was... Kyra? Was she the blacksmithās daughter? Ah, yes, she was the talkative one, who talked so much that she bored you to death... Just like I am, right now...ā she stopped speaking abruptly, turning her head to the side as though to mimic guilt and shame. āIf anyone speaks too much is Myranda, not you.ā Ramsay got in a sitting position, dragging her up with him.Ā āHas she also told you what I did with them, once I got bored of them? Has she threatened you?ā āIām very happy to know that Iām not disinteresting you with how much Iām chatting - You see, Iām used to talking so much with people I like, I tend to forget all courtesies.ā she, inching closer to him.Ā āSpeak as much as you will, I find not only your voice, but your words also, to be enticing and worth hearing.ā the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. āMyranda told me about these... Hunts youāre attending. She did say you allowed her to join you once, and I... Was wondering if youād entertain me also with such activity. I believe I proved my sharpshooter skills last month.ā she leaned in so close to his face that he could almost feel her plump lips touching his. āOh, sweet lady, if only you knew what that implied, you wouldnāt be wearing that innocent smile on this perfect face of yours.ā his chuckle sent shivers down her spine. āBut I do know, my darling. I do know.ā his eyebrows slowly rose up in surprise.Ā āI donāt need the image of a small, pink, flayed man to know that your hunts must hold some kind of peculiarity that would serve as entertainment.ā she smiled more.Ā āAre those lovely dogs involved too?ā The air was punched out of his lungs - How can someone so perfectly angelic, so seemingly innocent, this noble lady thatās supposed to be frail like a flower - She was speaking so tenderly and sweet about hunting people! She was an oxymoron, and he, was in love with her.Ā āI want you to come for every hunt from now on, my Moon Queen.ā That happy smile, along with the soft pink painting her cheeks, only made his heart beat so, so fast in anticipation.Ā āCan we have Myrandaās hunt soon?ā that venomous sweetness was enough to drive the bastard over the edge, and instinctively he grabbed her hips and brought her over his lap, pulling her flush against his chest. Her slender legs straddling him, and the way she felt against his pelvis only made him grow wilder and his grip on her flesh got tighter. He wasnāt thinking when he tried to slam his lips against her own, nor did he realise that instead of those petals, his mouth came in contact with her palm. Through his bewilderment, he noticed that vixen-like grin of hers, unreadable and enigmatic.Ā āSweet Ramsay, you are running so fast to action, youāre intimidating me. I am not Kyra, nor Violet or Tansy... And least of all, not your dearest Myranda. Are you trying to scare a little maiden such as myself?ā Slowly she removed her hand, gazing at the manās beautiful blue eyes.Ā āCould it be that youāre intentionally trying to get a rise out of me?Ā ā āIs it working?ā the way she tilted her head to the side so cutely made him want to throw her down on the bed and claim her. āIt is.ā he admitted, his jaw gritted down as a way of holding back his animalistic urges. āGood!ā that cheeky, chirpy way she exclaimed drove him mad, as she rolled to the side and cuddled into him.Ā āWill you keep me warm, sweet Ramsay?ā āEvery night, my sweet lady.ā
How was he supposed to keep his hands from lingering down that warm skin of hers, or hold back from having his fingers grip down on her flesh so hard that it left bruises, all due to his insatiable desire for her? If she was just any slave girl from the North, he could have shackled her down and claimed her in any way he so imagined - And only the Gods knew how very creative he was when it came to the pleasure-taking he was crazy over... But Y/N was from an affluent family, renowned all over Westeros and far beyond, second only to the Lannisters. Even if he wanted to re-enact all his perverse fantasies about this mischievous little vixen, he knew there will be hell to pay, and any claim of legitimacy would be thrown out the window.
Still, she didnāt seem opposed to getting intimately close to him in the least - She showed no signs of fear when she implied hunting down Myranda, nor did she seem intimidated by the bitchās failed attempts of taunting her - More, she made her cry, if the story was as true as she claimed it to be, and truly, he was disappointed that he wasnāt there to watch the interaction go. He long knew how annoyingly jealous Myranda was of any girl that he bedded or showed any kind of personal interest in, going as far as to sabotage them, and more - But she was beginning, at a rapid pace even, to get stale, and no amount of perversion or unheard of pleasing methods could save her from her fate if she continued to whine about any silly little thing.
Y/N was different - He could read what she was thinking, and the games she played were far more interesting. She was fun to be around, and that innocent act of hers, pretending to be a small and naive little bunny, all righteous and benevolent was nothing more than the beauty of a rose with poisoned thorns. Here she lay, her body softly going up and down with each of her inhales and exhales, as she slept so peacefully, nuzzled to his side, just like a fawn cuddling with a predator ready to tear her apart - But she trusted the killer wouldnāt harm her. Was it because of her status? Her family? Or simply, she could feel how taken he was with her, from the very first second that his eyes met hers and he saw that playful and slightly illicit twinkle in those beautiful eyes of hers?
For a whole week he will have her all for himself, yet at arm length; So close, yet so very far away, and no matter how much he wanted to snatch that beautiful, blooming flower of hers, he was forcefully held back, shackled to the wall and left to drip with lust like a ferocious wolf watching a lamb with snow-white fleece, prance around fearing no danger in the world.
Patience was never one strong suit of his, but now, he had to be. He cared little that Y/N Tyrell was a noble woman and being with her would help his claims at legitimacy, and he cared even less that he had to marry a woman of status whilst having promised the flock of girls surrounding him already his heart. He had no heart - And even if he did, it was already taken by the sheep wearing wolfās clothing and strutting around him, just closely out of reach. He wanted to eat her whole, and then some more. He wanted to drink her honey and feast on her strawberry tarts, sickly sweet yet so addicting. He wanted to hear her sing the thrills of the nightingales every night as he looks down from above her, and he wants to feel the way her body dances involutarily from the pleasure he offers her.Ā
And most of all, he wanted to see that pleasure-drunk expression of hers, all bashful as sheās driven off the edge, and while she tries to hide from shame, heās going to force her to look him straight into his eyes and drink in her gasps and moans with another kiss, feeling her stiff body gradually grow lax in his arms, seeing only the stars, and him amongst them.
Their sharing of not only a room but the bed also continued for the rest of the week, without Y/N even bothering to blame Myrandaās lack of brain for the coldness of her own dormitory - She has made it clear already that she simply wanted to display a pretext to sleep with him, and Ramsay was more than thrilled with such a notion - After all, it wasnāt often that he fell asleep and woke up to the same woman, beautiful above all and enticing as very select few.
Still, if Ramsay could feel jealousy, it would be on his own dogs, though heād rather say he was feeling as territorial as his bitches, yet maybe not even then. He was more than content to see someone actually capable of bonding with his dogs as well as he did, while also being obeyed so well. One would think the daughter of the kennel master would know dogs better than human - Alas, Myranda was capable of none of those - But Y/N was, and that mattered most.
āThere, there, mommy, you and your sweet puppies have to stay comfortable and warm. The cold of the North is very harsh, even if youāre used to it.ā the mother dog whined, happy, as she was being spoiled, kissed and caressed by the woman. Y/N continued praising and loving the dog, and though she was a large breed with long, thick, black hair, looking more like a bear than a dog, she had the cutest name - Faye. Y/N wondered who Faye was, before she was killed - How did she get so dull that Ramsay had her kill, who was she while still alive, how did she look and so on.Ā āBeautiful, sweet Faye, you are so loved, my darling.ā she was so absorbed in her pampering of the canine that she didnāt hear the intruder stepping towards them until it was too late. āYou stupid girl - These are hunting dogs, not pets! They are supposed to stay vicious, starved, to mauls and rip apart the prey... Not... Not this - Whatever this is! Youāve ruined them! Ruined the whole batch and the bitch!ā Myrandaās glare was as harsh as the wind that was blowing outside. āI beg to disagree Myranda, though I can see why it would seem offensive, considering you were born and raised among dogs. You see - Fear is a double-edged sword when it comes to obedience. Dogs may be loyal, but fear is fickle. They can always turn on you, if pushed enough. If you treat them well, they will treat you just as well, but tenfold. Just like people.ā Y/N smiled defiantly at her, only making her growl as well as any mutt. āWhy did you come here?! To steal my man? To steal my job? Youāre already so rich that you donāt know what to do with your wealth - Did you come here specifically to bring me misery and rob me of anything I have?!ā Myrandaās yelling only proved to make the dog snarl at her as a warning.Ā āEven the dogs hate me now - Because of you!ā āOnce again, Iām inclined to disagree, mostly because... Living beings arenāt property and Ramsay was never yours. If you want to play technicalities, it was you who was his, not the other way around - Even more, you were... Naive enough to believe he would actually marry you. Silly girl, you donāt know him half as well as you think you do.ā the Tyrellās mocking smile proved enough to drive the other one off the edge of her sanity, and she took out a dagger from her waist and tried to push her away to get ahold of the pups and kill them. What a stupid move, Y/N thought as she grabbed her arm and tried to wrestle her off.Ā āHave you gone mad?! How could you do that?!ā āGET OFF ME, YOU STUPID WHORE! IāM GETTING RID OF ANY LINGER OF YOUR PRESENCE IN THIS PLACE - BEGINNING WITH THIS LOT, AND NEXT - YOU!ā Myrandaās growls echoed through the humid kennels as she tried to launch at the dogs once more, but the noblewoman leapt up to shield them, her shoulder proving the stabbing point of the blade.Ā āLeave, Myranda! Get out and calm yourself - Youāre being irrational!ā Faye, too, jumped to her paws and started aggressively roaring at the attacker, ready to maul her off the same as she did for her namesake - But she stopped, as soon as another pair of steps seemed to bother the squaffle between the two women.
Ramsayās blue eyes, usually frozen as the water of the North, were now blazing with pure rage - How dare that whore attempt to kill his beautiful Y/N? Did she have a death wish and had no clue how to act upon it? He had as many inventive killing methods, as he had pleasuring ones, and perhaps even more - Myranda, of all people, the expendable woman who lasted the longest so far should have known best.Ā āMyranda.ā his voice seemed even colder than the weather outside, and the woman seemed to submissively let the knife drop with a loud, resounding clank, as she stepped away with tearful eyes.Ā āM-My Love...! Y-Youāre here! You - You have to see what sheās done, she -- She was trying to TAME the girls, she -- She was SPOILING them! She was RUINING them! My love, you must do something about this--ā even louder than the sound the dagger made, the slap which she received was enough to make even Y/N flinch, watching Myranda painfully fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes.Ā āM-My love...?!ā she seemed absolutely betrayed - What a delusional woman. āYou have been testing my patience recently, Myranda. If Iād known you were suicidal, Iād have killed you already. Not only you bore me to death, you also piss me off. Thatās a worse transgression than either of those before you. Iāve been merciful and understanding with you so far, but Iāve reached my limit.ā Myranda, terrified out of her mind, scrambled over to embrace his feet, only to get kicked in the face and made to fly backwards. She was crying rivers.Ā āDonāt touch me with those filthy hands of yours.ā he sneered at her.
Leaving her to grovel on the ground, Ramsay stepped in front of his beloved and carefully touched her bleeding shoulder. He slipped off the material of her dress, only to hear the large dog snarling at him.Ā āShhh, sweetling, donāt worry, he means no harm to me. Thank you for protecting me, my sweet Faye.ā Ramsay watched the tender way with which she was praising the dog, and petting her hair. Maternal bitches were fickle and dangerous, yet with Y/N, Faye seemed completely loyal. Good. āCome. Iāll treat it for you.ā he spoke gently to her, hoping the harshness of his tone had completely dissipated. Y/N worriedly looked down at Myranda - the Bastard realised she was afraid not for her, but for the neurotic behaviour she displayed as she tried to attack the pups.Ā āI donāt trust her around Faye and her puppies. I donāt want them to get injured because of her.ā āTHE DOGS ARE TAINTED BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU RUINED THEM!ā before Myranda could recover the knife, Y/N already kicked it away - Though the woman was so far gone that she tackled her to the ground, yelling all sorts of perversions and curses as she tried to get ahold of the noble ladyās throat and squeeze the life out of her. Before Ramsay could rip her off, and throw her in the dungeons to punish later, Faye leapt sprung on her and threw her off her new master, chewing at her arms and legs.Ā āFaye! Sweetling, stop, come here - Faye! Leave her be!ā much to the bastardās shock, the dog obeyed immediately and went to the ladyās side, licking at her wound and standing protectively over here.Ā āThere, there, sweet girl. Clever girl. You are fantastic.ā Ramsay almost felt jealous, with the amount of kisses the bitch was receiving, but the fact still stood - The dogās loyalty changed in the course of five days. Myranda was the enemy, whilst Y/N was the loving master whom the dog obeyed. Fascinating. He wasnāt sure if the dog could sense the kindness and purity of her soul, or simply, behaved like any manipulated human - But whatever it was that Y/N was doing, she was doing perfectly fine, the same as when she captured his interest and made him fawn over her so completely. āFaye, stand down girl. Iāll take care of Y/N for you.ā he felt compelled to offer the dog a few pats on her head, and surprisingly, she licked his hand affectionately - It must have been the way he was always by Y/Nās side whenever she spoiled the dogs, why Faye now possibly saw him as this benevolent master all of a sudden - It was even better than he expected.Ā āAs for you, Myranda...ā he glared down with disgust at the cowering woman.Ā āMake yourself comfortable in the dungeons.ā she whimpered, afraid of the consequences of her own actions. Y/N has completely bewitched her beloved Ramsay Snow. She ruined him.
As Y/N sat on the edge of his bed, her bare shoulder being carefully treated by the man with unexpected delicacy and tenderness - He wasnāt even aware that he, Ramsay Snow, the feared bastard of the North, kneeling in front of her, was capable of something like this... But somehow, it felt... Good. It felt... Natural, like this was how things were supposed to go. He was to protect his fair maiden, and she was to look at him with those pretty eyes of hers, bat her lashes so bashfully and offer him a timid smile.Ā āDoes it hurt, my sweet flower?ā he looked in her eyes so deep... Deep enough, as he wished he would be buried in her already. āYou are very attentive with me, my dear, there is nothing that can hurt if it is you caring for me.ā was she using such words to purposely throw him off the rails? Did she want to be thrown on the bed and claimed on the spot? To have her sweet flower taken from her - And that heāll be gentle with her, and loving, and will make sure it wonāt hurt at all? āMy intention is to make sure youāre never going to experience anything negative, especially pain. I will deal with that wench later.ā he found himself gulping - The more he looked at the unveiled skin, the more he wanted to rip the thin material of her dress and see her in all her glory. āYou will have to excuse Myranda. She... Was not in the right state of mind. It cannot be easy for her to accept that... Well... She might still have some more to learn.ā Ramsay could see how she tried to find the rights words as to not outright shade the bitch who attacked her, and still maintain that darling facade of hers. āStop trying to protect her.ā he snapped at her.Ā āShe knows the rules. If she breaks them, it is her own fault.ā Ramsay didnāt realise the edge of his voice until it was too late.Ā āForgive my tone, My Lady, I didnāt mean to scare you.ā But she wasnāt scared, he noticed - Instead, she smiled at him, almost as though it enticed her.Ā āThere is nothing to forgive, my sweet Ramsay, after all, you simply spoke your mind - And you are right - She is your servant, and you knowĀ best the way to discipline them. She is old enough to know how to play this game, and if she was too incompetent to get a grip, it is her own fault. I will not attempt to shield her again from any scolding youād wish to instill upon her.ā Y/N could feel Ramsayās hands stop working on her wound, and after wrapping it up properly, he rose to his feet, cupping her face. āThen, would you join me in her hunt, after weāve returned from Winterfell?ā that sweet, excited smile of hers made his heart beat so fast that it made his mind go hazy - More, his brain completely stopped working once she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Her soft lips were even softer than the flowers, and so plump - He never kissed such sweet lips before, nor has he ever been as addicted to kissing a woman as he was with her, after a single kiss. āI would be honoured to join you, my sweet Ramsay.ā though he tried to dive in for another kiss, desperate as a thirsty man in the desert, she ducked under his arm and twirled around away from him, a vixen like smile turning his nether regions aflame.Ā āOne at a time, sweet Ramsay - One at a time. I wouldnāt want you to get used to quickly to the sweet fragrance of the Moonās Queen.ā her giggle as she waltzed out of the room almost made him lose his balance - What the hell was she doing to him? Maybe Myranda was right, she was destroying and eroding away at his mind to the point of manipulation - Was she manipulating him? Maybe she was, but he didnāt mind anymore - He needed her like he never needed anything else - And one day, he was going to have her for himself, and never share her with anyone else. Y/N Tyrell was his and only his.
Once the week was over, the Tyrell family were finally moving towards the colder regions of the Seven Kingdoms, all the way to the castle of the Stark family, after stopping to the Dreadfort to collect the eldest daughter. Though cold and snowing, the landscapes were already so beautiful, despite how different they looked from back home. The cold shades of green, white, grey and blue were fantastically blended together into such a picturesque framed painting made by the best artists.
The journey was long and tedious, but it was well worth once they arrived to their destination - They were welcomed very warmly, especially by the children, and were shown their rooms. Y/N and Margaery were also shown the hot baths, so they could relax after such a long ride, and they could use it every time they wished to. The feast was rich and very delicious, but something was missing - A certain Bastard from the Dreadfort, who was to arrive the following day - Why he hadnāt joined Y/N, she was not yet aware, but he promised a surprise, to keep her excited and expecting.
The very next day, Y/N was awaiting the untimely arrival of her favourite bastard by doing the most boring things - Giving embroidery lessons to Sansa, Arya, Jeyne and her sister, made by Lady Catelyn and their Septa. How absolutely terrible, doing nothing but embroidering handkerchiefs and dresses. Dull.
When finally, the Sun went down and allowed the majestic moon rise up, the retinue was invited to the feast - And down there, already waiting at a table, was him - The man with brunet hair and the most piercing blue eyes - He had risen his head to scan the commotion, and upon seeing the girl, a smirk had taken place over his previously bland expression. Getting to his feet, he stepped in front of Lady Y/N and bent at the waist, taking her hand and kissing it. Had she gotten more attractive in the time they were apart, or was he simply missing her too much? It has been barely three days - Why was he so addicted to her?
Just like before, the children were sat at a table, to enjoy the merry feast, the singing and the laughter - But feasts were just that, feasts - And Y/N had always thought feasts were boring as all hells, and she was in grave need of entertainment.
āSweet Ramsay, you once promised to show me the ethereal, vivid lights of the sky that only the North hosts. Let us slip away from this banquet and have a walk, shall we?ā young Y/N whispered into the ear of the bastard, only to get up and leave the halls of the Stark feast, hoping that the brunet wouldnāt take too long to follow - And thankfully, he didnāt, for he was right by her side, with his furs over her, seeing as she shivered once she came in contact with the harsh, cold wind. āYour health comes first, My Lady. If it gets too cold for you, we can always return on the morrow, there is no rush.ā Ramsay had his arm around her small form, keeping her flushed to his side, under the pretense of keeping her warm. āAlright, alright, that is quite the bargain. Is it far from here?ā she kept trying to imagine the snowy cliff that he described days and months prior, but no matter how much she tried, nothing compared to the crystal-like sparkle of the snow as it reflected the silvery light. āCareful steps, My Lady, the ground is frozen and you might slip.ā he pointed out, keeping a tight grip on her, worrying with every wobble sheād make. āHow darling of you, my dear... Oh, this forest is gorgeous! This green amongst all this fluffy snow... How lovely!ā her excited admiring came to a halt soon. ā... Ah! Not so lovely when itās so cold...ā the girl eeped as the snow from one of the branches fell onto her head, mixing with her hair as if it was a flower crown. āHow clumsy of you, Lady Y/N. Thankfully, we have arrived. Be very careful, the cliff is steep and there is a lake right underneath.ā the man warned as he guided her onto the cliff.
As soon as she stepped out of the woods, she gasped and looked up - The dark blue sky was painted with such a vivid palette of colours that sheās never seen even in the most renowned paintings all over Westeros, or far beyond. The way they undulated in the sky, and how, with the scenery, it almost seemed as if a soft lullaby was playing in tune with every move.
Ramsay told her an old tale that, up there, the lights represent the running souls of every animal that ever lived here, in the North, and that it plays with its kin forevermore. The more he spoke, the more fascinated the girl was, and with that, her eyes sparkled even brighter than the moon and stars combined. How could a creature be so beautiful, in her own innocence? And, most of all, why doesnāt he want to break and taint her? Why doesnāt he want to rip her apart and destroy any ounce of hope and happiness embroidered in that heart of hers?
Instead, he reached his hands up to her hair and kicked some of the snow off, letting only a circlet of frozen flowers around her hair. He gazed down, deep into her eyes that were shining with more life and bliss than heās ever experienced before in his entire life. He wanted to drink her in like the sweetest ale there was and never let her go.Ā āI may not be able to make you a true Queen, however, My Lady, if you would have me, I would love for you to be my Moonās Queen. A flower more beautiful than any other around her.ā though she looked absolutely mesmerised, she leaned in and shared a sweet kiss with the northman, whose cold hands warmed as he held gingerly her soft face. āI have been rather spoiled until this age, I must say. Not only I had no betrothal obligation, but I could freely pursue any of my passions. I would love nothing more than to call you mine own sweet love, though I have not asked for permission from mine Lord Father. I... I dare not go against his kindness.ā though her response was timid, the man before her merely kissed her forehead reassuringly. āWorry not about such trivialities, my sweetling. If you so desire, all shall be taken care of.ā his heart was beating so fast, just like an obsessed child that finally got the toy he wanted so badly - He felt absolutely on fire with so many emotions that he couldnāt even name. He felt so powerfully that he could almost feel his fingers digging into her flesh to the point of grinding her bones. It was such a strong feeling of possessiveness - Having Y/N being HIS was like a dream, and he was not going to let anyone take her away from him. āThe reason for arriving so late was that we were awaiting a letter from the King.ā he spoke, and on his face, a wide grin that looked almost boyish graced his features.Ā āIt is long since I have awaited the good news to come - So long, that I feared they may never come - At last, however, my Lord Father had received the letter.ā he quickly took the letter from his pocket, and almost shoved it into the girlās hands from excitement.Ā The girl, with her frozen fingers, took the paper into her own hands and her eyes skimmed over it - And she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck.Ā āRamsay -- You did it! You did it! Finally -- O, I am so happy for you!ā she pulled him into a few more kisses, much faster and chaste, but they only made the man feel sublime bliss and euphoria. He felt as if he was flying.Ā āLord Ramsay Bolton.ā she breathed out.Ā āThat sounds beautiful. Congratulations, my darling, you deserve it. You are now the legitimate heir.ā her smile widened even more. āNow that I am a real Lord, I can properly court you and ask your father for your hand in marriage.ā he enjoyed so dearly watching the happiness in those fawn eyes of hers - He never imagined that there would ever be a person that would be so genuine with him. She had no reason to use him, and she never scolded him, or looked down on him for being a bastard. In fact, she treated him so much better than anyone ever did, including his own whore of a mother whilst growing up at the mill, or even that heinous Lord father who hated him.
The only one who actually tried to form a bond with him was his half brother... Too bad Ramsay had no intention of having Bolton siblings that would be named heir in his stead.Ā āAnd once you do... Will you finally tell me of your... Inconspicuous passions of yours? Officially, this time.ā the man froze, and his eyes widened in surprise, and a slightly sense of fright - Does she know of his hunting? Or the flaying? Would she run away if she did? He never did confirm anything back at the Dreadfort - Had she somehow gone down to the dungeons and witnessed the tortured and flayed victims? Had Myranda described in morbid details the hunts he officiated?Ā āWhat is with that look, Lord Bolton? It is unbecoming of someone like you.ā she giggled teasingly.Ā āWhat better way to strike fear into your enemies, than showing them the true meaning of the symbol of your own House?āĀ Ramsay looked at her, flabbergast - Did he hear those words correctly? That sweet voice of hers, uttering such... Things? Without any bit of fear?Ā āMy Lady, what is it that you are implying?ā his own voice went lower, barely audible. āAh, I see, you must be finding some kind joy out of having a lady speaking bluntly.ā she hummed as the corner of her mouth twitched upwards, amused, and she brought him closer to her body.Ā āI feel much safer by the side of a man who is unafraid of protecting his people by any means necessary... Whether or not he takes pleasure from inflicting pain on his enemies.ā speaking into his ear made the man shudder slightly.Ā āAs long as it is not me that comes to harm... Anything goes... And anything can be... Entertaining.ā Ramsay gulped and roughly brought the girl at armās length, looking down at her with even wider eyes - His breathing was ragged, his heart was beating so, so very fast, and he was feeling heated. In an instant, the new Lord brought his Lady into a deep kiss, from which he didnāt want to let go. How he wanted to bring her to his home again and hold her slender body to his own, without the pestering feeling of so many layers upon layers of furs, leathers and plush clothing.Ā āYou saw right through me, did you not, My Lady?ā he asked, between kisses. āAnd so have you, My Lord.ā she retorted immediately, stepping backwards, her hair messy, and in need of breathing.
The lingering feeling of her sweet and delicate petal-like lips left him in such a drunken state, that he didnāt realise the predator going to destroy his new-found euphoria. Before he realised what was going on, Y/N was pushed out of his embrace, close to the edge of the cliff. Ramsay could see the fear and confusion in her eyes, as a loud crack was heard from the hanging body of land she was sprawled over. He yelled out her name and leapt to grab ahold of her hand, hopefully drag her to a safer part of the cliff, but before he could get anywhere close to her, the edge surped, aided by a perfectly aimed arrow, and the girl fell to her doom.
Unable to get up from the snowy ground, Ramsay was in a deep daze, and strongly spiraling. Just now, he had that sweet flower right in his arms, and she was HIS, and now, she had fallen, away from his reach. He was going to destroy the person who did it. Outright shatter. Rip their nails, flay them, pour salt on their flesh, break their bones, gouge their eyes out, pull out each of their teeth, cut a few fingers and toes...
āMy love, are you alright?ā that voice... That awful voice... He should have wringed her neck and ripped apart her vocal chord and every strand of her hair, should have bashed her skull against the wall until only mush remained.Ā āM-My love...?ā how dare she call him that? When did he ever give her the consent to ever use such an endearing name for him, when sheās nothing more than a toy for him to use as he pleases? Has she forgotten her place? Or did she rightfully anticipate that, once he marries Y/N Tyrell, he would throw her in a hunt and get rid of her permanently? What a scared cunt. She doesnāt deserve any bit of him. But why was she in Winterfell, to begin with? She was not taken in the Bolton party - She was supposed to be at the Dreadfort, taking care of the kennel. Pathetic and disobedient. There was going to be hell to pay. āYou stupid, dumb cunt. What have I told you, all this time? You think that killing Y/N would make me spare you? No, Myranda, you are dead wrong. Jealousy bores me. You know what happens to people who bore me. And not only you bored me, but you angered me beyond any boundary. You know what Iām going to do to you, donāt you, you dumb whore.ā in his fit of rage, he wasnāt even able to rejoice in the desperate, frightened cries, nor in the complete fear that was gleaming in her eyes. No amount of blood spilled on his body, nor how much pain he was putting her through helped, because just like the broken marionette that she was, her strings were cut and she was easily thrown in the trash, where she belonged. But she wasnāt dead - And nor did he want her dead... Not just yet.Ā āIf you want me to spare you, you better return home. Otherwise... I will make sure I find you - And when I do... You will wish that the cold had taken you.ā Ramsay threatened the woman after choking her, before he took off some of the layers of fur and stared down at the freezing cold water - He was a northman, he had taken such baths before. He wasnāt fond of them, but he was resistant to the cold. All northmen had to get their body strong and immune to such freezing temperatures since very young.Ā āY/N... Y/N, I will find you... Whether you are dead or alive, I will find your body.ā he muttered to himself during his hyper-fixated state, and he jumped down from the cliff, diving down into the bone-chilling freezing water and swimming down.
He easily spotted the girl, as his own fur coat was weighting her down massively, but thanks to his northman strength, he took off her coat and managed to swim up with both the unconscious girl and the furs that will prove, once dry, a perfect means of keeping her body temperature up. That is, if he can even get that thick thing to dry any time soon.
Though difficult, Ramsay was able to swim to the surface and picked the girl up in his arms, looking for some shelter, and much to his shock, there was a small fishermanās hut and a fire seemed to illuminate from the inside.Ā He knocked on the door, hoping the peaceful method would make due, but as the fisherman answered the door and outright denied them entry, seeing the pin of the Flayed Man on his vest, Ramsay blocked the door with his boot, and leaning the girl on one of his arms, he took out a dagger and slit the old manās throat.
What a dumbass. He was going to let him live, should he have been more hospitable. Too bad.
Carefully, the bastard placed the unconscious girl on the furs on the ground so he could take off her clothes and put them on the string to dry, just next to the hot fire that the fisherman had made to cook a stew.Ā āPerfectā the man thought, knowing the girl would need to eat something warm to get better.
But thoughts about the stew were far gone as he reached her undergarments and instinctually pulled them away, leaving her soft body on display. Though a hue milky to light blue from the freezing water, she still looked so enticing that Ramsay thought, just by looking alone, his clothes would dry immediately from how hot he felt. He could catch fire and immolate immediately from how he was suffocating.
The Bolton bastard couldnāt believe that he got to see his paramourās body like that, thought he was glad that at least, he knew how to save her. How to care for a hypothermic body, how to maintain a fire, dry the furs and make food - Otherwise, sheād be long dead.
Still, he put his own clothes on the string to dry after putting the only blanket available over the girl, tucking her in... But it wasnāt enough. She was shivering, and she looked paler than before. His body was feeling even more hot now that he realised the only way to warm her up was to hold her naked body flushed to his own. What a sacrilege for noblemen of this era. Lady Y/N Tyrell was an unmarried maiden, she should choose death, rather than allow her skin to be touched by a man - A bastard, no less, be him legitimized or not... Or at least, thatās how that stupid church dictated the laws.
He was going to burn the church from the ground and hold Y/N so tight that all of his lustful fire would transfer to her. Getting behind her, he wrapped his strong arms over her small form and kept stroking her damp hair, hoping to take some of the water away from it.Ā
Time was passing at an unknown time, but unlike her body, his was feeling ablaze. His grip tightened even more once he heard his name being spoken out so lightly, barely above a whisper. Ahh, the way she was mewling out his name -Ā āRamsay... Ramsay...ā was driving him crazy to the point of spontaneously combusting. āYes, my sweet flower, I am here. Do not fear, I am right here.ā he mumbled into her ear, yet it seemed to be left unheard. āCold... S-So cold... So... C-Cold...ā she kept shivering over and over in such a weak voice that it made the bastardās nether regions go aflame from lust. Her weakened state was so fragile and easy to break. Her body and mind were completely in his hands, and he had complete control over her very being. āWe have been staying this way for hours, my sweetling. Are you still cold?ā he asked, frowning as he realised that her trembling hasnāt diminished in the least and that her skin was as cold as ice. āCold... Too cold...ā she was repeating the same words like a broken doll. Pondering, Ramsay immediately jolted into a sitting position, taking the girl up to sit on his lap, her soft chest pressed flush against his own. He could feel her hardened rose buds poking him from the cold. āAre you really cold, my darling?ā he asked in an almost poisoned-sweet voice, watching her head lull as she nuzzled her face into the side of his neck, her hands placed on his chest, humming in approval. She was so out of it from the cold, it was unreal how vulnerable she was.Ā āI know a way to make you warm from the inside out, but a sweet maiden like you, with no husband, might not agree to it.ā he teased her girl in a low, sultry voice. āIāmmāa d-die... S-So cold... D-Donāt wanna...ā hearing that, the man cupped her face and made her look at him - Her hooded lids and dazed expression was enough of a trigger for him, and he didnāt await any other answer. He pulled her into a deep kiss, so filled with passion as heās never kissed anyone ever before, and his hands pulled the blanket over her form, before he got a firm grip on her hips. āDo you want me to warm you up, despite not being you husband? Do you want me, Y/N? Tell me that you want me, Y/N, and I will make you feel as though you are back in that comforting warmth of Highgarden. Just say the words, Y/N. Say them.ā he kept pressuring her between kisses, and for a few moments, she felt lucid. Those firm, warm hands were dragging her soul back to her body and re-awakening her miraculously. āYou said I was your Moonās Queen, didnāt you? Then, it matters little whether I have yet a husband or not, for I have you. You said you will go to my father and ask for us to be married. Do not keep me waiting any longer, I am freezing.ā the little flower was demanding of him, how brave of her, Ramsay thought, as he felt himself suffocating with desire.Ā āPeople of Highgarden are free to explore their pleasure, you once said. Have you ever been touched by a man?ā the girl shook her head.Ā āA woman, perhaps?ā once again, she denied.Ā āYourself...?ā nothing.Ā āNot as adventurous as you claim, are you, my dear?ā āStop taunting me... Iām freezing.ā she muttered, casting her gaze to the side, only to feel the skin of her neck attacked by those lips of his, kissing all over, and licking and sucking, even grazing his teeth, almost as if biting. The girl could barely contain her sweet sighs, her fingers holding tightly onto his shoulders for support. āDonāt hide those beautiful sounds from me, Y/N. I want to witness everything about you.ā that low husky voice made the hair on the back of her neck stand up from desire. He wasnāt sure if it was from embarrassment, the beginning of a sickness, or simply, the cold, but those splendid eyes of hers were gleaming - It only made her look even more ethereal, if that was even possible.Ā āYour tears are getting me excited, my darling flower - It couldnāt be that this was your plan all along, could it? Fall into my arms like a damsel in distress and seduce me with the sweet melody of a nightingale?ā kissing down her throat, Ramsay could feel the vibration of a whimper, which only made him feel more suffocated.Ā āYou are driving me crazy, Y/N.ā āYouāre going to kill me before you can warm me up properly - Was this your plan, then? To make me die of embarrassment?ā her bottom lip quivered softly, feeling his hardening member putting pressure on the length of her watery slit. āWhat is there to be embarrassed about, my sweet flower? It is only what a husband should do to his lovely lady. In fact, it should be me complaining about the things that you do to me. The amount of restraint that I proved was above what I imagined myself capable of.ā he sighed into her ear, making her shiver against his touch.Ā āYou came over into my bed, nights on end, wearing only that sheer nightgown of yours. You think men and animals arenāt alike, my lady, but when you tease me, there is not much I can do to hold back the feral desire that I have for you.ā he felt one of your hands caressing his cheek, then raking up through the messy dark ringlets of his hair, tugging lightly at him - He gritted his teeth to the point of thinking they were going to shatter. He was losing his grip on reality, but he knew he couldnāt give up yet - He didnāt want to harm his sweet flower. āIt was no different for me, my sweet Ramsay - Bound to rules and regulations, and a desire to drive you crazy enough to want me more than air itself.ā the weak smirk of hers only made him pull her into deeper kisses, his tongue slipping in to explore every inch of her mouth.Ā āI wanted have you as crazy in love for me, as you made me for you. Do you have any idea how much I wanted your arms around me, and you to speak only my name? I want you mine and nobody elseās.ā āYouāve been a good girl for me, my sweet flower. Let me reward you for all the times that youāve teased me to the point of losing my restraints. Were it not for the need of warming you, I would have taken my time with you more, until you were such a mess that the only word you remembered was mine name. I wanted to see you come undone before me, times and times again, and still, I wouldnāt have been satisfied.ā carefully, he lay her down on the bed, her back slightly raised by the mound the fur blanket made for her.Ā āIt is about time I spoil my sweet lady the way she deserves.ā
Ramsayās hands were on either side of her head, looking down at the precious lady, with her long hair sprawled all over, and a glazed expression of bliss mixed with love and lust sparkling in her eyes. For the first time, Y/N was exposing herself as vulnerable and willing to submit to his every whim. One of his hands trailed down her throat - And oh how delicious she looked with his hand clasping over her neck - And down to the mounds of her breast and the erect buds which he teased with a short pinch. The small twitch of her body only made him feel more smug, as he attacked the rose bud with his tongue, one arm underneath her torso to keep herself up, while the other went down to feel her thigh, and in between. All her beautiful skin was hers to touch, and it was no longer as freezing cold as before.Ā āYou are mine, Y/N.ā he whispered against her skin as his fingers found their way teasingly trailing across her womanhood with such gentleness that she thought it was a feather torturing her with anticipation.Ā āThen make me yours.ā her comment him chuckle, the vibration against her skin instinctively making her bite her lip as she tried to close her legs to create some friction for her aching, teased core. āI will, darling, I will - Be patient. It is your fault that I canāt help myself from taking my sweet time teasing you. Your body is so honest, betraying your need for me.ā a soft gasp escaped as he pulled her thighs apart.Ā āMuch better, isnāt it?ā and he trailed his fingers towards the little bundle that he knew would create such desperate reactions.Ā āI canāt allow you to do this to yourself. It is me who makes you feel this way - And it is me who will offer you your sweet release.ā āYouāre so cruel to me - Itās not fair!ā she breathed out, her cheeks reddening, her body squirming for his touch.Ā āAre you feeling bothered just from this, my sweetling? Well - Arenāt you the most precious little thing in the world.ā he really couldnāt help himself - His lips found themselves over hers once more, and he took turns between kissing and biting at those soft petals, whilst his hand was applying more pressure, all the way fromĀ the top, and downwards, at such an agonizingly slow pace. His touch was intoxicating. It was maddening. This man was insane, and everything he did made her head spin with every repeated motion, each time, with more and more pressure applied, feeding onto every little gasp and twitch and whimper, her inability to keep quiet making him go feral. āSing for me, my little nightingale - I love your melody the most.ā he said as he held her face up, forcing her to looking into his crazy eyes - Eyes dripping with lust and obsession - He was watching her like a sadist as she tried to keep any bit of composure she had left, and as he cupped her womanhood, playing with her special bud to the point that her body twitched and she gasped - Her torso arches whilst she gripped down on the furs and her legs tried to close once again.Ā āNow THAT is the reaction I was hoping for!ā he found himself laughing like an obsessed child, happy to get his puppet move the way it wanted. He drank in her moans as the hand gripping her face was now carefully placed over her throat.Ā āI could snap your neck so easily, like the frail flower that you are - Yet here I am, indulging you to the point of driving myself mad, not only you. You have made a fool out of me, my darling.ā Through hooded lids, Y/N looked up at the gorgeous face of the man having far too much fun pleasuring her.Ā āYouāre already killing me in more ways than you realise.ā with a smirk, his mouth trailed down with kisses from her forehead, down to her chin and her now unveiled throat, and down to her chest, grazing his teeth against her nipple, almost as if he was trying to distract her from the way his fingers were slipping on the wetness of her core.
āMy, my, so needy for me, arenāt you? My sweet little flower is so greedy.ā his head slowly lowered down to her abdomen, and between her thighs, planting kisses on the supple flesh of her legs.Ā āI will give you pleasure like no woman in this world felt before.ā that low, alluring voice of his hypnotised her as he positioned himself against her cunt, her legs over his shoulders, and gripping on the plush of her thighs, his fingers digging into them firmly while his other hand pinned her waist down onto the bed, rendering her unable to squirm from his intoxicating touch, his lips kissed the sensitive area which sent a bolt of electricity through her veins, earning gasp after gasp and timid moans that only made him ache.
His eyes looked up at her, drinking in the way her body convulsed so sincerely just with the way his tongue was teasing her - But he wanted more - So much more. Sinful sighs echoed through the small cabin as he kissed and sucked at her bud, and then more, when his wet, hot tongue danced inside her cave. Sounds so hedonistic that, should the church have known, would have punished her for being a temptress, though the way she mewled his name...Ā āRamsay... Ramsay...ā so broken, her fingers ripping into the furs, drove him over the edge.
His cock was so hard, just by hearing those lustful please of her, so desperate for him, he couldnāt help but imagine that pretty mouth of hers around him, his hand on the back of her head, pushing her up and down until she choked and cried, sucking and kissing and licking him like he was her last meal on earth, and then more, him painting white with his seed, that innocent fawn-like face of her, gorgeous above all, and down on her teats, and on her hands and body, as she begged for more of his milk like the desperate, needy kitten that she is for him.
Oh, the things heād have her do for him, in the near future - But for now, he was content edging and pleasuring her, just enough so that sheāll be screaming his name and even her parents will hear her, all the way from Winterfell, and then some more. She was such a good little girl, all for him, so hopeful and obedient, and needy - All for him. ONLY for him. HIS Y/N.
āR-Ramsay, stop, I-I... I canāt, I--ā that pitched, broken cry, trying to hard to remain coherent yet unable to, as her legs tried to clamp around his head and even his hand was unable of holding her down completely. Lady Y/N Tyrell has experienced her first sweet release, all thanks to his tongue alone.Ā āWhat a good girl, Y/N - Was it good, my darling? Do you want more?ā he asked, his hands gripping on her tights, holding them on either side of his waist as he towered down to her level, gazing with the eyes of the devil, speaking to her in whispers that would make the devil feel shame.Ā āY-Yes...ā she managed to rasp out despite her embarrassment, yet he took her wrists away from her face as she tried to hide. āYes - What, my dear? What is it that you want? Tell me what do you want me to do.ā he pulled her hands to his face, kissing the inside of her wrist, watching her struggle to speak as honestly as her body did. āI want you - Ramsay, I want you - I want you to claim me. My heart, my soul, my body - Make me yours, my sweet Ramsay. I want you to make me yours.ā and how could he resist that sweet voice of hers - The voice of an angel, speaking the filth of the devil - The most beautiful woman in the world craving for his body as much as he did hers. How could he deny her, when he is a slave to her desires. āThatās my good girl.ā he cradled her face, refusing to bend down and kiss those sweet lips of hers, and instead, forcing her to watch, to look into his eyes, so dangerously close to her, as he teased her sensitive bundle once again, yet this time, Y/N felt the electricity shortcircuit her wires even more, her whole body felt aflame from the pleasure overheating every inch of her - Every twitch, every mewl, it made the man throb more. He wanted to bury himself inside her warmth at once, but he couldnāt deny how good it felt, toying with her body like this.
The way her body begged so sincerely for him, for his touch, as he entered a single digit into her core - The way she clenched around him only made him imagine the drunkening sensation his cock would feel, held prisoner inside her wet prison. It was no secret - She neednāt say any word, for her body spoke everything she couldnāt, and describes so well the way she loved the way he moved inside of her - So slow, so teasing, curling, sending waves of electrifying pleasure through all her nerves - And he added another finger, and her fingers were digging crevasses into his skin, leaving red trails down his paleness, all from the intense feeling building up more and more. She was so close, Ramsay could feel another release threatening to escape - She was so close, so, so dangerously close that it was excruciating how close it felt -Ā
He took out his fingers and palmed her cunt, applying pressure on her sensitive bundle, making a tragic heat suffocate her, only to turn pained and frustrated from the denial.Ā āWh-Why... Why did you stop? You sadistic jerk - Is this torture what I deserve for teasing you?ā she panted, deep and in agony, as his smirk only widened with twisted wickedness, and positioned himself to her entrance, leaning down over her body as one hand held up her body, while the other he used to hold himself up, trapping the girl completely under him, getting a better angle at abusing the skin of her neck. āWhy, you ask? My sweetling, I simply want you to get so completely lost in this feeling that you wonāt know anything else but the pleasure Iām giving you.ā he muttered in her ear, feeling her stiffen, and pulling her into a passionate kiss, he slowly entered her soaked heat. Each sweet thrill she made, he drak away, and every time his cock touch a sweet spot, her nails would attack his toned back as if she were a kitten destroying the drapes.Ā āYouāre taking me so well, my love.ā he said, his mind going black, watching himself pully sheathed inside of her, head held back from the pleasure she was feeling, amplified by her mark he was leaving on her skin, to the point that he was unsure there was any bit of skin left untouched and unkissed. A smile almost impish painted her face, succumbing entirely to the hot waves of pleasure drowning her as her walls clenched down around him, unwilling to let him go.
āLook at you, enjoying yourself so shamelessly. I assure you, no noble lady was ever treated this way by her lord husband. Those arrogant fucks are too afraid to explore the body they crave so much. All they know is to make heirs, but they donāt know how to enjoy it.ā his breathing was ragged against her skin, though he was unsure if her mind could hear his words properly. The small bulge he created at her belly with each thrust of his member drove him to madness - She were a slave to his body, as much as he was hers - He disallowed her to get used to any pace, be it faster and sloppy, or slower and deep, yet each time, that sweet spot was hit, sheād let out a new sound that he hadnāt heard before. The cabin was filled with nothing but passionate words spoken with such fire and filth.Ā āMy sweet flower, do you want your release?ā he asked against her lips, her hands gripping his hair as to force him down into a kiss.Ā āYes...ā she exhaled between the passion. āThen beg me, my darling. Beg me to bring you over the edge of this world.ā the girl whined, face red with shame.Ā āIf you donāt... Well, Iāve already given you a taste of denial. Tonight Iām feeling merciful - Iām giving you a choice... Do you want to cry my name from the pleasure of release, or... Mayhaps you wish to whine as I leave you here all alone.ā he gently captured her quivering bottom lip, graving his teeth over its plumpness.Ā āThough, without me filling you, I suppose youād get desperate enough to pleasure yourself, and... I cannot deny, your insatiable greed is something that I desire to see.ā āI will be the one doing the flaying if you dare leave me like this--ā he couldnāt help but grin in amusement - How adorable she looked, attempting to threaten him, all because of her neediness. How very precious.Ā āThen come undone for me, my love.ā he held her even tighter as his pace roughened, her legs wrapped tight around his getting him even closer to her, if possible.
His name was mewled one last time for the night, a sinful, desperate thrill that drove him to an even more brutal pace as he rode her release, watching pleasure take over her senses - Ramsay buried his face into her shoulder, biting onto her flesh and he felt his own release paint her walls white. Once the clouding euphoria start to unfog his mind, he lazily propped himself up, watching the dazed look on Y/Nās face, her chest heaving up and down as she tried to breathe properly after all the pleasure that he drowned her in. Slowly, he took his cock out of her, watching with a sense of accomplishment and devilry as his seed seeped out of her. He hadnāt felt so good before, with his body pushed flush against a womanās, not did his mind go hay-write when any cunt would shriek his name as he fucked her into oblivion - Yet that body of hers drove him crazy, and her nightingale song was truly special if it was able to burn him like that.
With a satisfied smirk, Ramsay looked down at her flushed face, and played with a strand of her now dry hair - Though her breathing had evened out to some degree, the high was still possessing her.Ā āWas that treatment worthy of a Queen, my sweet flower?ā he spoke, taking the lobe of her ear in his mouth, playfully chewing on it, before tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue. āSo... Whenās the wedding?ā she let out an amused exhale, only to find herself switching positions, placed on his lap and with him already inside of her all the way, his arms almost blowing away the air from her lungs as he embraced her tightly, his body glued to her own. āWhat - Didnāt think Iād just let you go, did you? Iāve got a lot more of the frustration you pent up on me to release, my dear. It is your fault - Own up to it.ā
Though the night was long, it passed by like a breeze for the two lovers, intertwined within their lust and desire for once another, yet once the sun was fully up in the sky and the furs and clothes were all but dry, and the food that the old man cooked was finished, the two left the sinful cabin and returned to the castle that housed the Warden of the North and his people. Though they didnāt stay for long, Ramsay, with his new claim of legitimacy, asked Mace Tyrell for his daughterās hand in marriage, and seeing his sweetĀ Y/N so excited, he couldnāt help but agree. The Boltons might not be the most affluent family, but relationships in the North were just as important, yet nowhere as much as her happiness.
Once Y/N and Ramsay returned to the Dreadfort for a few days of time spent together, whilst the Reach was to prepare for the wedding ceremony, grandiose and worthy of the second most wealthy in the realm. Meanwhile, the Ramsay invited his darling down to the dungeons, where Myranda was tied up to a wooden X.Ā āMyranda - I present to you Lady Y/N Tyrell, the most beautiful woman in the realm, and, coincidentally, my wife! Isnāt that fantastic?ā Ramsayās poisoned cheerfulness as he presented the woman as though the two never met made the flower chuckle.Ā āHer lips are so sweet, sheās got me addicted.ā he continued, pulling her into a tender kiss that only grew more desperate with each and every heartbroken protest from the kennel masterās daughter.Ā āWhat is it, Myranda? You think Lady Y/N is beautiful? Well, you should see her body! Youāll lose your mind!ā with one swift move, Ramsay unlaced and unburdened the Tyrell girl from her dress and pulled her up to sit on a desk, offering the perfect view to the tied up woman, as his hands roamed up and down Y/Nās soft flesh.Ā āI know Myranda, I know - Iāve lost my mind too just seeing her... But when Iām side her and she cries out my name so sweetly... I canāt help but melt and feel like a slave before her.ā he admitted, burying himself inside her wet core, his grip on her tightening harshly from how good she felt, but also, the desperate, broken and hopeless sobs from the jealous woman only fueled his animalistic desire for Y/Nās body. āThereās nothing better in this world then getting drunk on you, my sweet Queen of the Moon. Iāll never let go of you.ā
After ripping at least two sweet thrills from the woman coming undone in his embrace, Y/N kissed him with so much fire that he was ready to perform more - Until he heard her whisper in his ear, enticing him for illicit activities.Ā āHey, Myranda - Are you ready for a hunt?ā








