The Hunt and the Chase

Chapter 1

The hunt

The hounds of Ramsay Bolton, trailed after their master. Blood dried in their fur and around the fine whiskers of their muzzles. The blood of the bastard's latest victim. Myranda and Ramsay wandered hand in hand down the now familiar path of the Godswoods of Winterfell. The thrill of the hunt left them thriving with life. The adrenaline still flowed freely as they walked leisurely to their new home. Of course Ramsay had no idea of what awaited him at home. Some may call it an offer of marriage. Ramsay would think of it as a new toy. A new play thing for him to terrorise and torment.

Elspeth Black's POV

The sight of Winterfell finally came into sight. The Bolton banner could be seen even from this distance. My patience had begun to wane the more stiff and cramped my legs became from the long ride from the black mountains. Still I did not know why my father had brought me here. Only that the Lord Roose Bolton had sent a raven requesting his presence and apparently, my own as well. I was insanely suspicious. The rumours and my imagination gnawed at my mind. The Bolton's were truly terrifying people. I had only met them once or twice when I was younger. The memory wasn't distinctive in anyway, though I remembered Roose Bolton all too well.

...

The gates opened with a loud groan. Our horses trotted into the courtyard, the pounding of hooves against the earth alerting them to our arrival. Snow littered every corner of the landscape and Bolton banners hung on the old stone walls. A shudder ran down my spine in delight at the light breeze that fluttered in my cloak. But this was the north and winter is coming. As the Starks are... or were often fond of saying. I recognised Lord Bolton by the grim smile he presented us with upon our arrival. Next to him stood a rather pudgy women, which must have been his wife. Fat Walda. Though I didn't recognise the young man behind him. He obviously wasn't a servant as they had stood off to the side in a formation of sorts. I pulled on the reigns to my horse, halting it behind fathers. The guards stopping shortly behind me.

A rather young stable boy helped me down from my saddle. He was thin and ragged. I staggered a little but quickly regained my balance. My hood kept most of my face hidden from any prying eyes. Which was a lot. My father, Esmond of house Black linked his arm with mine. We approached the Bolton's will caution. I was wary of his intentions but I sensed father knew exactly why we were here. The fact that he did not disclose the reason made me somewhat anxious.

"Lord Esmond. I welcome you and your daughter." Roose said in welcome, I couldn't help but instantly feel intimidated by this man.

"Thank you." Father bowed his head while I curtsied in return.

"May I introduce my son, Ramsay Bolton." Lord Bolton said strongly. The young man with dark hair that I had noticed earlier stepped forward. His crystal blue eyes pierced me alone. Only I was not paying attention. I could feel a gaze on me from the side, where I noted a very pretty servant girl was staring at me. I could detect jealousy and spitefulness in her eyes. I stared back, my green eyes darkened at the sight of her. She masked her gaze so that it didn't appear unfriendly yet it wasn't welcoming either but it mattered not. Hopefully we would be leaving this dreary place soon enough.

"An honour to finally meet you, my lady." My attention was snapped away by his lovely voice. He grabbed my hand gently and kissed it with a softness I did not expect, it momentarily took me off guard. I realised I could easily fall in love with this man. But there was a malicious and deceitful glint flashed in his eyes that I couldn't comprehend at all. Though I hid it well, I was confused. Had he been expecting me for some time now? What was this about?

"Thank you." I said quietly, withdrawing my hand. Why was he being so gentle? Perhaps I shouldn't pay so much attention to rumours.

"Let us go inside. You both must be tired." Roose said after carefully watching our exchange.

'Yes, of course." Father answered. He was a gaunt yet lean man. Streaks of grey ran through his copper blond hair. His hair colour mirrored mine almost exactly, minus the grey of course. My hands stung even through the leather of my gloves. But regardless I trailed after our host.

...

Dinner in the evening became a boring and tedious affair. Roose and father talked mostly of politics and what not. I grew bored of that subject almost as quickly as it started. I concentrated on eating my food, which I had barely touched. At the corner of my eye I could sense Ramsay looking at me. Though he had tried to be charming previously before dinner, I however was not fooled. His body language contradicted his supposed charming and charismatic façade. I tuned back into the conversation between Esmond and Roose.

"What do you think of that proposal, dear?" I blanched at father's sudden statement.

"Proposal?" I asked inviting him to elaborate. I hadn't been paying attention in the slightest to their conversation.

"Yes. You are betrothed to my son. Thus is your purpose here." Roose answered with a touch of impatience.

I felt my mouth fall agape slightly in shock.

I heard a light chuckle behind me. I glanced at the source of noise. Ramsay. Suddenly I saw him in a new light. I turned back to my plate and cut up the mutton that was dished onto my plate. I looked everywhere except at anyone at the table and the man that visibly shrank in the corner. I said nothing.

The Black family were powerful allies to the north, along with the Manderly's, Mormont's and so on. That was the point. Political power. The Bolton's alone couldn't defeat the entire north if all the houses banded together. That's why this supposed marriage was beneficial to them. I cut the meat up with sour vigour. After a time I gave up with polite dinner conversation.

"May I be excused?" I asked absentmindedly.

"Yes of course. It would be wise to get used to the prospect of your new arrangements." Roose Bolton said with a ring of finality. I did not want to marry the bastard! Even now I wanted to wipe the happy smirk off his stupid smug face. Argh. I march through the freezing corridors, towards my chambers.

...

This betrayal of father came as a shock to me. How could he marry me off to a Bolton! And the psychotic Ramsay Snow of all people! I remember father teaching me to use a bow and how to dance. I felt hurt. I looked out into the bustling courtyard outside. But that had all changed, father had changed after the death of my mother. Though we had greatly supported the Starks that once resided in these halls. We were once one of the many great houses before my brothers died in the recent battle with the Lannisters and the young wolf. I was all that was left of House Black.

An impulsive surge of anger pulsed through me. I swung my hand back and slammed it into the nearest breakable object. Of course in my anger it never occurred to me how utterly stupid that was. Blood streaked down my hand and wrist. I hissed in painful satisfaction. Sure it hurt but it made me feel at least a little better. I will throttle the bastard in his sleep. Wrangle is neck.

"Now, now we can't have your beauty marred with bruises and such just yet, my sweet. I think we should save that for after the wedding!" my breathing stuttered. I turned to face Ramsay, my betrothed who smiled maniacally from the doorway. The blood left my face as the sudden realisation flooded my thoughts. I was going to marry this monster.