𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒚 𝑶𝒖𝒕

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑿

"Mm.."

He hummed quietly as only Ramsay turned to the sound of someone approaching them, the weight under their feet crunching through the snow. A harald.

"My Lord Bolton.."

Ramsay raised a brow of confusion as he then noticed a trail of blood left by the object the messenger held within his hands wrapped in cloth.

"What is this?"

The messenger swallowed nervously and thickly at Ramsay's question, but gave his reply.

"A brother of the Night's Watch delivered this today, my Lord...it's.."

The man only trailed off, instead deciding to show Ramsay exactly what it was. Now the man appeared sick and disgusted by holding a decapitated head within his hands, but Ramsay shook his head in annoyance. It was Locke.

"Any accompanying messages with this gift?"

He asked, and Roose still had yet to look. The messenger nodded.

"A r-raven arrived from Castle Black two weeks ago, m-my Lord."

Ramsay raised a brow at that, titling his head a bit sideways toward the man.

"Two weeks?"

The bastard made Bolton swiftly stepped forward, yanking the man towards him by the collar of his cloak, causing the man to drop Locke's decapitated head onto the snow covered ground, further staining it red.

"Why was I not informed of this?"

"M-My Lord..y-you were off...hunting."

Ramsay scoffed, but not at the man, but more at himself. He was off..hunting, in a sense. Turning back to his father, who still faced the weirwood tree, Ramsay raised a questioning brow.

"You knew about this message, Father?"

He asked, and Lord Roose nodded, but did not turn to face his son.

"Aye. They ask for supplies and men for an impending attack from Wildlings."

"And Benget Stark asked for these supplies?"

Ramsay scoffed, shaking his head.

"It does not sound like the man to ask for help."

"It's from Maester Aemon of the Night's Watch. He asks for any support the Northern Houses can give."

Sighing once more, Ramsay began to pace back and forth in the snow, hands wound behind his back as he stared at the ground. He was thinking. Smiling suddenly, Ramsay glanced back at the messenger man, raising a brow.

"They want steel, it said?"

"S-Supplies of any king, m-my Lord.."

"Good."

Turning to his father, Ramsay smiled, a plan already formed in his head.

"We'll give them their supplies, Father. We'll get a true measure of the Violet Wolf as well."

"Prodding a wolf whilst it is cornered is a good way to become a feast for it."