Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Three

Ramsay Bolton X Stark!Reader - Bad Memory

A/N - This chapter is based on the song 'Bad Memory' by K.Flay, which I found through the Birds of Prey soundtrack. I hope you all enjoy it.

Ramsay had been lying to you from day one. Seven Hells, it was so blatantly clear now that you felt stupid. You had been so caught up in his promises that you had willed yourself into believing them, no matter how unrealistic. But now you knew the truth and you weren't going to believe his lies anymore. 

*One Year Earlier*

"You are possibly one of the most beautiful women I have ever set eyes on." You jumped, quickly turning to face the voice that had interrupted your silent contemplation. The smile he sent you was perfectly charming, and he took your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the soft skin. "Stunning," he murmured, watching as a smile of your own pulled at your lips and your cheeks tinted red.

"Y/N," you started, your voice catching in your throat as you attempted to calm your fraying nerves. 

"Ramsay Bolton," he responded, his hand still holding yours loosely in his grip. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Stark." Your entire body stiffened at his words, and a lump formed in your throat. "You have no reason to worry, My Lady. I hold no ill will towards your family."

You nodded slowly, tearing your eyes away from him and staring at your feet. "No one should know," you uttered, your voice low and broken. If you had been watching him you would have noticed the sickening smirk that pulled at his lips for just a moment before he hand his hand on your shoulder in an attempt at a comforting gesture. 

"No one else does," he started, leaning close enough that you could smell him. "I want to help you, but for me to do that, we'll need to return you to Winterfell and get rid of that idiot Greyjoy boy." 

"I-" you murmured, glancing up at his with your brow furrowed. 

"Of course, it's your decision, but without someone on your side you'll never be able to take Winterfell back."

He could practically see the cogs turning in your head as you considered his proposal. "Theon is my friend. I could talk to him."

"He murdered your brothers, and countless members of your household staff. I doubt he's your friend." 

You swallowed, and gave a short nod. "Okay." 

"Of course, there would be the need for an alliance. Something to bind the Starks and the Boltons together-"

"I don't have anything to give you," you uttered, your voice breaking slightly.

"Oh sweetness," he murmured, taking your hand in his again and offering you a soft smile. "I don't want things."

For a moment, you wondered whether you were making a mistake. Out of nowhere he looked like a wild animal in the middle of a hunt, and you had no doubt that you were the prey he was stalking. 

"Most people bring their houses through marriage," he told you, a sickening smile etched onto his lips. 

"My sister is already betrothed," you started, and a short laugh burst out of his chest.

"I don't want your sister."

*Time Skip*

Once you had taken Winterfell back, Ramsay had become the doting husband you had hoped for. He spent entire days in your presence, hanging on your every word. And every night, he would share your bed, intent on conceiving an heir. Not that it was really your bed. He had insisted that as Lord and Lady of Winterfell, you would have to stay in the Master bedroom. The chambers that you had remembered so fondly as your parents bedroom. It felt wrong to be in there without them, especially when you were using their bed for an act so intimate. 

According to your husband, Theon was spending his time in the dungeons. A fitting place for a man who had committed uncountable crimes against your family. Or so Ramsay had told you. You hadn't yet been permitted to visit him in his confines. Your husband has claimed that it would be far too upsetting for you, and he couldn't risk his wife becoming distressed. He had already done enough damage, it wasn't worth letting him do more. You had nodded your agreement, though you weren't so certain you understood his reasoning.

*Present Day*

It had turned out pretty quickly that your bed wasn't the only one Ramsay had been visiting nightly. It wasn't until one of your ladies maids had confessed that she had seen Myranda hanging on his arm in dark hallways and hidden corners that you'd actually found out about your husband's infidelity. 

In all honesty, you weren't as surprised as you should have been. It was clear now that Ramsay wasn't a good man. His temper was short and he kept the sort of company that men of honour would never be caught dead with.

For a while after your discovery, you had behaved as normal. Men slept around. Seven Hells, King Robert had been your father's best friend and he'd had women everywhere he went. It would be easier for you if you just pretended not to know. 

But when Ramsay has brought Theon out of his imprisonment, your calm veil had slipped. The boy you had known as a child was now just a shell of his old, wild personality. When he had hobbled into the Great Hall, limping heavily, you had been speechless. That anyone could tear a person down to such an extent was terrifying. It was cruel and inhuman, and it was your husband who was to blame. 

"How?" you had murmured, your eyes still fixed on Theon's hunched frame. He was skinnier now too, and you doubted he had even seen a bath in almost a year. 

"It wasn't too hard, really," Ramsay had started, a smile pulling at his lips. "His punishment was fitting for his crimes," he added, his gaze drifting over to your horrified expression. "Does he scare you?"

You shook your head slightly, pulling your eyes away from Theon to look at your husband. "No. Look at him, who could be scared of what you've made him?"

A snort of laughter escaped him as he glanced back at his creation. "You're disgusted."

"Yes," you murmured, your tongue darting out to run over your lips. "What you did to him is disgusting." 

Ramsay's smile fell from his lips, his brow furrowing. "Hold your tongue."

"You haven't got a good bone in your body," you continued, watching as his entire body tensed. "And I can't believe it's taken me this long to see what an evil little man you truly are."

"I told you to shut up -" Ramsay spat out, his voice sharp as it fell from his tongue. "- You worthless whore."

A silence stretched out between you as you got to your feet, clearing your throat slightly and tightening your jaw. "I want you to leave my home," you started, your voice low and dangerous. "And if you do not leave of your own free will, I will have you removed."

"I'm your husband you can't have me removed-"

"And yet every single person in Winterfell is loyal to the Stark name. The name I kept when you deceived me into marrying you." Ramsay took a step in your direction, his face turning a deep shade of red as he grew more and more frustrated. "I wouldn't if I were you," you started again, stopping him in his tracks. "There's a guard on the other side of that door who had spent his life protecting me. All I would have to do is ask and he would kill you in an instant." 

"I'm going to make your life miserable."

"There is nothing you could do to me that would be worse that living under the same roof as you," you uttered, giving him a small smile. "I'll give you some time to gather your things, but I expect you to be gone by sundown."

You left him standing in silence as you walked towards the large double doors at the other end of the Great Hall, gesturing for Theon to follow behind you. 

"See to it that my friend is giving a comfortable room, and a bath," you told the guard with a small smile. "And have someone saddle a horse for my husband; we can't have him walking all the way to the Dreadfort."

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