To Love a Beast |GOT Ramsay Bolton

13| A Fool's Whimsy

Ilyana

The debris on the ground, crunched under the hooves of the horses as we all trotted deeper into the woods. Ramsay had ordered his dogs be left behind on this one and the men all gave each other a look of confusion, but didn't dare say anything. Hunting without dogs just wasn't heard of out here, but I had the subtle feeling it was because of something entirely else.

Ramsay holds up his hand and clenches it into a fist, signaling the rest of his men come to a halt.

I peer over at him curiously, and his gaze shifts to land on mine. "Shall we continue on foot, my Lady? And try out your new bow?" He smirks before swiftly sliding off the horse and walks around to the other side to pull something out of a large sack. When he come back around, he pulls out a beautiful ivory bow from behind his back. He's grinning as he watches for my reaction.

I'm in awe at the craftsmanship, the intricate designs that are embellished in what appears to be silver where the handle is. He stands waiting for me to come down from my horse.

Ramsay is still smiling, and it reaches his eyes for the first time I've witnessed.

I quickly get a hold of myself and hop down. "Is it truly for me?" I say in awe as I take in every little detail about it, taking note that his gaze is fixed upon me still.

When he remains silent, I tilt my head up from the bow still in his grasp and go still. The way he's looking at me now has me struggling to take in any air.

"My Lord?" I ask in a hush and he smiles softly, cocking his head to the side.

"Would you like to try it out with me on this hunt?" Ramsay chuckles and gestures for us to venture into the woods together. My heart races—this is not far off from where he originally found me.

I follow him, his command telling his men to remain behind and he slows so he can stride beside me. I've never hunted with anyone before, let alone a man. That particular man being Ramsay Bolton of all the people in Westeros.

~*~

The snow crunches softly beneath our boots as we tread lightly, I tug my navy cloak around me as Ramsay steals a peak at me. His head turns and his eyes narrow as he looks on ahead. He clearly wants to say something.

"What is on your mind, if I may ask Lord Bolton?"

Ramsay has that familiar smirk playing on his lips as he keeps his focus on his surroundings. There was something that shifted in him, something new. I couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was, but he seemed to be more aware more alert in life. That madness that once danced within his eyes the first time I saw him doesn't appear as much as it once did.

"Now that we are truly alone, I want you to come out and speak the truth."

I stop walking and so does he after a few extra steps. His fur cloaked back faces me and he remains that way until I finally gain the courage to speak.

"The truth? My Lord?"

There's a dry chuckle that emits from him before he finally turns to face me, several feet apart. "Drop the formalities, you are my bride to be, are you not?"

The heat rushes to my face as he gives me an intense gaze. "The truth about who hurt you."

I stumble back, knocking into the trunk of a tree. "I..."

Crunch. He takes a step towards me and my breathing shakes, my body trembles.

"Who is holding your tongue captive from me? Should you really find any other more frightening than myself?"

My gaze drops to his boots stepping closer in the snow and I bite my bottom lip to keep the tears from forming. I cannot show him weakness, it will only anger him.

"No... but do I have your word you will not harm me if I speak my truth?"

Ramsay is in front of me now, his head tilts as he studies my face pondering my words.

"There is no guarantee. I will be the judge of it. A lie could be fatal and I always know a lie."

Right. But here I am still alive now, after lying back then—which is why this is happening now.

I breathe in slowly, closing my eyes for a moment so as not to lose myself to the pain of the abuse.

"The one who hurt me..." I begin and look up at him directly in his eyes so I may prove what I say is true. Be it my death or not, I will not die a liar.

"Your father, Roose Bolton."

Ramsay wastes no time before he the corner of his lips turn up subtly at me. "My father." He repeats the word, and his smile spreads, turning maniacal before he begins to shake with laughter.

I'm petrified as he spins around with his arms out, laughing towards the sky. Why is he laughing?

"I had suspected all along, I am relieved to hear it from your lips."

"Does this mean you believe me?"

He stops immediately and I wince, reaching to cover my mouth at my mistake, my head shaking. Never question him, never doubt him.

He stares at me. "What reason do I have to doubt you?"

I shake my head, "It was a mistake, forgive me I could not help myself, I—"

Ramsay stepped forward so we were close, so impossibly close my head started to become dizzy.

"I could not have missed it." He declares, his eyes appear to be furious as he stares down at me, my lips.

"Missed what...?"

He takes my face in his hands and searches my face.

"What did he do to you? You never told me." His eyes are so intense that I don't know how to answer him, "Where did he touch you? Where did his filth go, on what is to be only mine?" His voice whispers in an unusual anguish on the wind between us and I try to catch my breath at whatever foolish whimsy was dancing between us. He did care for me, didn't he? Is that what this means?

When I tell him what his father did, Ramsay slowly roams his hands gently over the places his father touched as I name them. His breathing picks up, and I watch as his shoulders rise and fall, his hands pausing, "I will replace his filth.."

He leans forward, and moves my hair away before he presses a soft caress of a kiss against my neck. So delicate, I'm taken aback by how gentle he could be. My hand clutches his cloak as I gasp out softly, which he only tugs me into him more.

"He will not breathe around you any longer. I will make sure of that."

My fingers grasp his cloak tighter when he presses another feather light kiss on my collarbone. "M-My Lord..."

His warmth enveloped me as his arms tighten their hold around me and I bite my lip so I don't release a cry of pleasure. What is he doing to me? This man, this strange man.

"Ily..." He whispers against my ear, his lips brushing softly.