Long life Sansa Stark and Ramsi Bolton. Burst with a madden

A British actor and musician Ivan Reon arrived in St. Petersburg to the Comic Con festival, famous for the roles of the psychopath Ramsi Bolton from the "Game of Thrones", as well as the shy Simon from the series "Ducks". Before a visit to the festival, he went to the office "Vkontakte" in the House of Singer and answered Issues of users of the social network.

What the actor surprised Petersburg, in front of the filming of which scene in the "Game of Thrones" he could not fall asleep and what advises to do every day to help ecology. "Paper" Collected the most interesting of Ivan Reon interview.

Carefully, there are spoilers to the "Game of Thrones".

About Petersburg

A lot of things looked in St. Petersburg, a very beautiful city. I can not say that I was directly any expectations, I did not particularly watched the photos before the trip, although I read a lot of Russian literature. Architecture and canals are amazed here, beautiful green parks. I thought there would be snow.

Publication from Iwan Rheon (@_iwanrheon) 29 Mar 2019 at 3:33 pdt

I write songs without thinking if they like people - the main thing that they like me. I wrote quite a lot of songs, but when it was time to release the album, I realized that I had no really good songs for him. I do not want to write about the broken heart and all that. When the material is cheer, I will release a new album. Maybe it would be not against playing Ozzy Osborne or someone from The Small Faces.

How to help ecology

I recently became the WWF ambassador (World Wildlife Fund - approx. "Paper") In Wales. We have quite a lot of potential for the use of renewable energy sources: the construction of windmills, the use of solar energy.

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Ramsey Snow, perhaps the brightest character of the song of ice and flame, and I don't think he needs a presentation. But what to do, for comparison, we need to remember all his feats, and why not give the tribute to such brave jigita. Ramsi Snow, and later Bolton - Bastard Ruse Bolton. Ramsi said about her birth like this: "Once my father was driving past the mill, and having seen his young wife, was so amazed by her beauty that he could not hold back his passion." Further, as it is not difficult to understand, Ruse all used the right of the first night, after which Ramsey appeared on the world. True, all this was only according to Ramsi, and Ruse caught with this version of his son Wild Lulby. In fact, he raped a melnik wife simply because he could. Melnik, by the way, hung. I will not retell all plot peripetias. I would simply note that during the story of Ramsey: Lychim Horchwood kidnapped the widow of Lady Hornwood and squeezed her lands, he moved to a servant and smeared in shit to confuse a consequence, called the smelly (!!!), continuing in trust the theone and later cut off him Drinking details, capturing in essence, half of the north, while his dad is if he threw Ponte. The discover details of the theon, he returned the sender, and the refreshment carcasses allegedly formidable railways walked on all poles and trees. On the way, he refers to the death of both younger starks and hangs it on the theon. With the same the same, he knocks off Kalein. Then he is given to the army of Stark, which is actually jane bullets, and in the series - Sansu. Ramsey, just like his father, was so amazed by her beauty, which could not hold his passion. Among other things, it is worth noting that Ramsey is a magnificent commander. He takes impregnable locks without a fight, and is selected with the forces of the enemy three times superior in numbers. Ramsey - Defender of the North, who saved his native land from the threat of marine raids by advanced methods. So far, solid retrograds like a cassel inertially ran from one castle to another huge forces, Ramsey simply began to be freshly revealed for one by one, immediately dispelled all their empty Ponte about "what's dead, die cannot die." And Ramsey loves to free enemies from personal skin. But you should not think that he is fucking barbarian. Ramsey is the keeper of the ancient traditions of the ancestors, which he honors with a special care. In the end, a refreshed man was depressed on the coat of arms on the Andreevsky cross, and that is why Ramsey wears their generic colors - a bodily pink doublet, and calls himself a true Bolton. In addition, according to many, Ramsi, most likely, trawls Domarka Bolton, his legative brother, thus becoming the only heir to the Rome Bolton. What do you say? Ramsey - a man who made himself himself. Also, Ramsey is the Great Humanist. Like the Swiss in their time, his punishment lag neither sparks anyone, despite the ranks and the height of the enemy's family, because before the righteous court they are all equal. Agree, very progressive views for its dense times. This is not some kind of natural cruelty, according to many slanders, but an active civil position. Well, do you think, what did his opponents achieve the old methods? Here to take, for example, allegedly the keeper of the North, recently. Remember, as Beonon G Grage attacked seven kingdoms, and weeks with Robert Barateon took a soldering assault? What did these unfortunate tolerances do? They not only left Baylora alive, but also taken hostage the theon of Greyda, his son, who guarantees, thus, the transition of the maritime throne is not to the ideation of the theone, but to Viccarion or Eurone Greyjoy, the most dangerous pirates and commander. Why did they generally finish that Baown would be shaking for her son? Does he show himself an approximate family man? Yes, they deliberately humiliated the dangerous maniac, and even left him alive! Just imagine if in their place for the real wise ruler and patriot of your country, Ramsi Bolton? That's right, for a start, he would have cut off the fucking Baylor and the whole genus Grayjoev. What is the motto there? "We do not eat." Well, since they do not sow, then why do they need them?! The iron islands would be easily humble with this loss. Following Ramsey would raise all the railways, and forcibly asked the religion of the religion. I think the stinking it would be quite suitable. What is your cry? "What is dead, can't die!" Our hero, no doubt, climbed such words standing. In the end, than so useful railborn engaged? That's right, they were engaged in robbery. Most of the population of the islands did not have anything from this, and indeed was the descendants of the slaves brought by these sheltered railways. Nobody began to regret them too. However, your unworthy servant sometimes is forgotten how progressive Ramsey in his views. Perhaps the appeal to Skyuchanism would cost without mortal executions and squadrons of death, by mass sterilization of the population. And those who still began to regret the old days, the wise Ramsey would surely hurt the refreshment carcasses in the edification, and their skins would have given all the dams of the solder. The stench from the decomposing bodies would eat from the islands only with the last stupid asocial thought towards the north. What did Stark and Barateon taught the iron islands instead? What can be robbery, kill, rape other women, and in the worst case, will take one heir from the five-seal dynasty members. But Ramsi would have taught them not to threaten the Northern Central, having kicked the sea driver in his ditch. Also, Starks managed to crawl even more, first, in the fight for the iron throne, and then in river lands, and even in turn, creating a crisis of power in his native country. Well, answer yourself, well, even purely hypothetically, what happened to the North, if Robert Barateon was filled with Lannister, and began to rule in the royal harbor instead. Never mind. After all, we were told many times that Kalein's moat - impregnable. Starks bent only before Targarians, and only because of the dragons. But there were no dragons from Lannisters! Just think about what the cause of the whole idiotic civil war? The fact that Robert Barateon, Alkash and just cattle, his zhrozka SERSYE led the horns. All this is very sad, but where is the north, the house of Starks and his interests? Yes, neither. Why was Ned? Yes, because he is visiting, someone managed to make his son with disabilities, dropping with high Tower . And Stark, without sobering as it should be on the spot, decided to go to the royal harbor to investigate the incident at home at home! How would Ramsei? He would have invited all Lannister to hunt, secretly brought the army, would have tied them together with all the retinue, and began to skip the skin from them, starting with the youngest. I suspect, after the first sliced \u200b\u200bears of Molella, the whole truth about the crime would be revealed by itself. After that, he would have revealed the real fatherhood of all the children of Serne, and even before Robert Barathemon would not have had to be explained. Yes, even if I had to happen? Stanis and Renley would run to take revenge for her brother? Yes FIG. They would begin to fight power, while the great feeding Ramsi, declaring independence, would have sat down by Rv Kalein and watched, stroking the popcorn. And if the Bran would be the son of Ramsey, and not, then instead of Brane, Jame himself would fly to the window, perhaps even with a member twisted in the throw. If you remember that attempting was committed at Brahn, Ramsi, unlike stupid stars, I would have managed to take the killer alive, and, methodically, removing the skin from him, would find out not only the personality of the customer, but also the whole pedigree killer to the seventh knee. But let's let's go a little further, and imagine that Ramsi would, at the place of the city, went to the royal harbor. What should have been done by week? He had to find out who killed John Arrena. What began to take weeks instead? Find out what John did. Watching the stupid and illogical actions of the characters, I often ask myself - how would Ramsey behave? That's right, he would begin to pull the skin from everyone who was involved in cooking John, and then at all of his servants, since poisoning was supposed to be obviously to do a close person - the Ramsi, in such matters. And very soon the wise Ramsey would find out not that all the enemies of John Arrena, but also where, where, as often and in what poses, Petir Bailyish was sleeping his wife. Or the day of the death of Robert. How would Ramsei come? That's right, for a start, he would not tell anything to his dura daughter, and his daughter would, in turn, would not take to talk about the plans of his father right and left. Why? Because Ramsey would not be born a fool, that's why! And if it was born, I would not tell anyway. Because you will not speak without language. And then, when Robert would be killed ... No, then Ramsei would not make skin with anyone. For a start, he would generally not let go of Robert on the hunt of one, since such an experienced walker on the hunt of Ramsi obviously knew how it was harmful. It may be for the health of royal persons. But you should not think that Ramsi Barbarian which, which only makes, removes from other skin. Ramsey is also a master of the acting and reincarnation. If Serssa suggested him what was suggested Ned (I remind, she offered Socia), he would like a real gentleman, did not refuse the Ladies whim, and would appoincome the place and time of the meeting, where they could retire for no one to see them, And would satisfy the lady in her desires. After that, Sersa, remaining alone with Ramsi, undoubtedly, would repel in all his sins, about whom would be a lengthy posthumous note, and,, referred to as the severity of his crimes, as well as long-term husband, would come out from the tower through the window. In the end, the irresistible Ramsey did it from Lady Hornwood, and there was no doubt, could repeat this number on the bis. If Renley offered him his help, Ramsei would not reject it, and generously would allow him to be the first to strike on Lannernis. And when Renley would kill Serne and Joffrey, outraged Ramsey with a cry of "betrayal", together with the guards and people of Starks, would attacked Renley, and would finish Renley, after which he would take the iron throne. Although why immediately finished off. On the way, it would be possible to remove some skin from him and find out when and in what poses I was trapped by Larats Tirell. And after that, Ramsey the wisest began to rule Westeros, like Drain and Regent of the Legal King Tomman, of course. If Ramsei would be on the place of Robb, he would never throw the Walman Freya, simply renounced with the first counter. No, the fact that he would sleep with her, do not have to doubt, but he was unlikely to put her ephemeral "honor" higher than the life of his troops. Moreover, the girl was generally Vassal Lannister. Ramsey with her is not that he slept, he would have shared with her army. For, as we know, Ramsey Humanist, truly loving his subordinates. Ramsey would never have to make a carstart for the murder of Lannister, and even more so to execute the faithful Vassal. He would shook his hand himself, after which he would remove with the skin killed and would send them personally Taiwin. And why did the carstark killed these lannisters? Yes, because Rob broke down Jame, and he escaped, and Carastark did not have to dormant for his son. Jamime would not have ran away from Ramsey. Without fingers on the legs, as you know, do not run away. Especially from dogs of dogs. And Lord Tywin in the package from Ramsi would be not only lunnister skins, but also the causes of their son. In general, Ramsey is the most dynamically developing character - both in the book, and in the series. Making mistakes, loving, sissing and committing an act of retaliation. But enough about Ramsi. Who is the prototype of such a doubt bold and extraordinary person? I thought for a long time, would you open all the terrible truth, and whether you were ready for her. A year ago, I would not dare to do it, but now you are ready. This year Konstantin Ernst presented the world's greatest film in history called "Viking", and we can say with all confidence that Ramsey's prototype is equivalent to Knyaz Vladimir Svyatoslavovich. Judge himself, Vladimir, unlike his brothers, the younger and illegal son of his father Svyatoslav from Malushi key. The brothers constantly trembled him and called Robichic. On one day, their overall dad Svyatoslav died, and between Yaropolk and Oleg began a civil war. Vladimir watched from the part, until he learned that Yaropolk Oleg killed in battle. Vladimir Vyshek understood correctly, and account for the best to be returned to Varyags, to recruit the army. Returning to Russia, he first beat his victobus Kiev, and then came with the matchmaker in Polotsk. In Polotsk Rogned, the daughter of Rogvold, pulled out all the dignity and honor of Vladimir, issuing the passage "I do not want Robichić Rosavati." How not to remember Sansu, who arranged at his wedding concert and did not help the thyrion throw a cape? Vladimir, insulted in the best feelings, took Polotsk storm, and was already gathered to culturally kill Rogvold, Rogndang and all of their relatives, as an idea of \u200b\u200bthe uncle Dobrynya, made a bid, after which I realized that Dobrynya is a person who is prone to all kinds of good. Vladimir first raped Rodnant in her eyes from her relatives, and only then he was frightened by his relatives in the presence of Rogged. Rogneda was honored to be the wife of the Grand Duke and enter the story. After that, Vladimir without assault, inciting the inner confusion, took Kiev, and the Yaropolk at the talks cruelly killed. Hired Varyags demanding from him to give them the promised gold, he sent the forest, and they slept. Here we see that Vladimir, like Ramsey, first shoved in confidence in Vikings, and then threw them for the interests of his own country. I used to be sure, but since the film, whose screenwriter was Nestor himself, can not lie, Vladimir, like Ramsi, skillfully smeared by some shit. By the way, I should note that no self-respecting Ramsi can do without his stinks, and Vladimir was obviously her own. Who is not good, the prototype of the most famous hero and his uncle, could they be? As can be seen, the story of Ramsey is literally displayed here, and I do not think that you need any evidence. But since I foresee that this is the amazing all the foundations of the universe of the hypothesis, you may be perceived in the bayonets, I will give a couple of convincing comparisons. To begin with, to reflect all the helpless objections at once, what where Ancient RussiaAnd where Martin, I will remind you that as everyone has long been known, Vladimir, through his granddaughters from Yaroslav, the ancestor of many royal specials - from the dynasties of Stuarts, Cappets and Windsor, including the now ruling Queen Elizabeth II, to Barack Obama and Donald Trump on maternal lines. Moreover, for the western man in the street, Vladimir is neither Vladimir at all, and Konung Woldemar, who has covered the future king of Norway Olaf Triuggwason from ill-wishers in Novgorod. Here, as it is not difficult to see, a close relationship of Ramsey with two young Freames, which he took to their upbringing is displayed. But if this is not enough for you, then I will go further and also prove that it is Vladimir that we are obliged to faith seven. Well, if this connection with the world of Martina does not convince you, then I do not know how else I can save your lost soul. As soon as Vladimir began to prince in Kiev, he decided to reform the pagan cult of Slavs, connecting them into a single pantheon. In the pagan capital, he put the idols Perun, Horsu, Dazhibogu, Semarglu, Striboga and Mokosha. Special bores may noted that there are only six gods, but here it is necessary to understand that the seventh was Velez, whose image is clearly consonant with the unknown, which in the pantheon seven has always been highlighted especially. So, there can be no two opinions. On the basis of such unbreakable arguments, the conclusion may be only one, Ramsey is Vladimir Svyatoslavich and there is a cynically contacted by Anglo-Saxon Nimits on the pages of his Pascvil. Yes, in the same way, the deathhold, in Ramsi equivalent!

The carrier of the traditional family of illegitimate children in the north is Snow.

After the death of a legitimate son, Ruse Domerika, Lord Bolton is decided to accept Bastarta to her upbringing. Ramsey was smart, but extremely cruel and heartless. When the Father went to the war, Ramsi became dominant. It is noteworthy that Bastard was trying to get rid of his illegal status everywhere.

Permanent servant Ramsey was smelly. It is noteworthy that the closest environment of Ramsi was the warriors-bastards.

Events in the book

Mother Bastarda was an unfortunate mill. It was distinguished by an indicative growth, a slim figure and health. When Melnik secretly took her to his wife, angry Ruse killed the unfortunate and raped his wife.

After some time, Melnichikh arrived in the dreadmill with the requirement: to protect and shelter her, since her husband's brother kicked the unfortunate from home. Rouse Bolton himself admitted that Bastarda really carries his eyes. As a result, Lord Bolton orders the Melnik to displease, who broke the mother Ramsey. Ruse did not want to marry Melnichikha and only periodically cheaned it with countless gifts with one condition: not to disclose the sown's secret of origin when he grows.

When Ramsey began to inevitably grow up, his volitional mother re-drawn in Ruse to tighten the wild and cruel son. Lord puts to Ramsey smelly. The unfortunate servant itself was subject to an incurable disease, which led to such a nasty smell. Later, the servant of smelly and mother Ramsey said that he has the true right to become the Lord of the Dredfort.

When the pupil of Arrene and Brother Ramsey Domerick returned, then wished to immediately put his brother to himself. When Ruse categorically rejected this feature, self-confident Domerik did in his own way. In the end, Ramsey poisoned the domaker with the help of a poison mixed in the food.

These events led to the fact that Ruse finally accepted Ramsi to himself. The Lord of the Dreaded applied to the Sadist-son is quite negative. The second after smelling the gift was an unknown ring.

Battle of kings

After the departure of Ruse to the war of the King of the North, Ruse starts his own lock control. He gathered the faithful people next to him and often hunted people with their devotees, wild pietes. It is noteworthy that Ramsey preferred to kill women. After the heir and Lord Hornwood died, Ramsey decided to take their lands to themselves. Most likely, Bastard wished to create a waste plan, because on the eve of his father Ruse married Wald Frey.

When a representative of the genus Hornwoods returned home - Ramsey captured her forcibly married. With the help of creepy torture, Ramsey made the unfortunate member to give the necessary oaths, and soon he spent the night with her. When Donella handed the land of Ramsey - with the help of the will - Bastard ordered her to put her in the tower, where a woman died of exhaustion. The courage and perseverance of Lord Manderley led to the fact that the Castle of Hornwoods was taken, and the opposition began between Bolton and Mandley's houses.

In turn, the dishonest Bastard was engaged in his favorite hunting for people. At the moment when Ramsey pursued another woman sacrifice, the people of Ramarg Kassel overtook them. However, the tricky Ramsey came up with a plan: he exchanged clothes with smelly and cheered in the mud. Unhappy servant shot in the back. The knight, who discovered the dead wife Ramsey decided not to kill the impostor-smelly. Thus, Ramsey managed to survive.

In the future, he was in the dungeon in Winterfelle. After the capture of the castle by theone, he got freedom. The idea of \u200b\u200bthe murder of Melnik's children and imagine the junior starks belongs to Ramsey. Then, Ramsey kills several railways who witnessed murder.

Theon receives a refusal of a sister on military support in Winterfelle. The cunning Ramsey expresses its plan: with the help of a horse and silver, he will lead to the castle of mercenaries, which will help in the upcoming battle.

Ramsey receives a sufficient number of soldiers in Dreadnith, arrives in Winterfelle and kills Rodrick, as well as all those present. In addition, Ramsey treacherously kills the support of the theon and burns the castle. Theon Ramsi takes with them in the generic lock.

After the events, which led to the death of Robb Stark, Ramsey gets the opportunity to capture Kalen's moat. Cooking begin.

Ramsey woven at the lost servant Skyushka - the role of the servant gets the theon, which was banned. He is mercilessly tortures rail-born: throws the skin, amputies the fingers. He extremely despised the smile of the theon, therefore, knocked him his teeth. A big and small Wolder Frei became a new squirereers of Ramsey.

For the capture of RVA, Kylin Ramse used his servant smelly. He is thoroughly washes the theon and convinces himself to introduce himself to himself. In the meantime, in the castle there were rail-born, which suffered not only from the destructive power of diseases, but also from the omnipresent hunger. However, instead of the promised freedom of Ramsi kills all the defenders of the fortress and will refrete their bodies soon, which will be located at the road to the castle. When such a father, Ramsi Ruse, was observed, he noted that his son should hide her cruelty, as the people of the North could soon turn against him.

Ramsey takes Jane bullets to his wife, which was given to the representative of the kind of storks - arrew. Before the first marriage night, the smelter served as a "warming up" girl. Soon theon and prisoner run away, which people came to the rescue. Wild directed the red Melissandra priestess, who wanted to acquire prestience in John Snow's eyes. Theon and jane are saved by jumping in ditch with water. Soon Ramsey demanded from John Snow to return his wife, servants-smelhes, family of Baratheon Stannis, as well as a red priestess.

Differences between the book version and decree

In the series instead of Jane Putle, Sansa Stark is used, which Petir Balish gave Bolton. In addition, in the seizure of Winterfella takes Ramsey, which knocks off the castle at the theon. Of course, the murder of Rodigarn Kassel lies on the shoulders of the theon, and not Ramsi.

Events in the series

Bastard is mentioned for the first time in the second season, where Ruse Bolton reports that his son is ready to discourage Winterfelle. Soon he succeeds.

An unknown character suddenly visits the captive theon, who believes that he sent his sister. He later helps the theon escape and gives him a horse.

However, when the theon overtakes the guards of the castle - Ramsey kills the pursuers from Luke and continue to pretend to be a benevoler. Later, Ramsi escorts the theon in as if the castle, where the family is waiting. When the theon completely trusts its "Savior", it is recognized that the boys killed in Winterfelle are not stark.

In the end, Ramsey leads the theON into the old torture room, where continues to mock it mercilessly. Later he will remove the skin from the finger of the theon and will cut it.

Suddenly the room includes playful girls who wish to make love with the famous Lord of the Iron Islands. Ramsey appears for a moment, which after a mad monologue slices the theone of his male dignity. In the future, the theon will receive its famous nickname - smelly.

Further events repeat what is happening in the book.

After the victory over Ramsi "rewards" his father, the dagger in the heart, and his wife Rousse together with the baby orders to kill.

Ramsey assumes the duties of the keeper of the North. Soon, John Amber arrives in the castle, who presents him the gift - Ricon Stark, his head Lutovolka and Osh.

Osh meets with Ramsi, where he tries to seduce and soon kill Lord. However, it fails to overcome Ramsey, and he in response cut her throat.

In the subsequent meeting, before the battle of John Snow demands from Ramsey one - honest duel. However, Ramsey refuses.

Immediately before the Battle of Ramsi, it carries out its insidious plan: from lets the Ricon Stark and gives it a chance to escape, however, the exact arrow strikes the boy in his heart.

When surrounded by wild and John Snow practically lose hope, due to the hill, the valley's forces appear, which for a moment destroy the bolton's army. Frightened Ramsi is heading for Winterfella walls, where it counts down. However, the efforts of the Giant Castle are destroyed. Ramsi is sent, which, hiding behind the shield, is closer to the Bolton. He rapidly pounces on Ramsi and continues to beat him up.

Ramsey comes to himself dark at night and understands what is on his own Crane. The bloody face acts as a drug for mad dogs. Sansa opens the cells slowly and systematically, and sophisticated dogs are rapidly devouring Ramsi Bolton.

"Bolton Bastard" turned out to be the actual owner of the dreaded. This is a smart and ambitious, but the cunning and cruel young man, about which sinister rumors go. Ramsey shakes its low origin and often reminds others that he is "True Bolton."

Ramsey has a servant on the nicknamed smelly, which constantly accompanies the owner. A circle of the so-called guys of the bastard - young guardsmen, which make up the Ramsi's retinue and participating in his fun.

Appearance

Ramsey was routine in black and pink colors: black boots, black belt and sheath, black leather camoles over a pink velvet doublet, in the slots of which was visible dark red atlas. In his right ear glitter grenades in the form of a drop of blood. However, despite all the magnificence of the outfit, he was still ugly, large, with sloping shoulders, with that of his loyalty that over the years threatened to turn into completeness. His skin was pink and pimp, the nose is wide, the mouth is small, and the hair is long, dark and dry. His lips were wide and fleshy, but the most noticeable in his appearance was his eyes. He had father's eyes: small, closely planted, blocked to the weird. Ghostly gray, so sometimes they call this shade, but in fact the eyes of these were absolutely colorless, like two fragments dirty ice.

Past

Mother Ramsey was a young and beautiful peasant, which the old Melnik picked up by her older. She was high, slim and healthy, Ruse Bolton describes "long legs and small elastic breasts, just two ripe plums." Ruse in his youth enjoyed the right of the first night, and Melnik married secretly, so as not to give his wife Lord even for one night. Having left at the hunt for the mill, seeing a beautiful mill and finding out that the marriage was performed without his knowledge, Ruse immediately hung Melnik on a tree and raped his wife under the same tree.

A year later, Ramsi's mother appeared with a three-month-old Baby Bastard in Dredfort, demanding Lord's protection: her late husband's brother, seeing the similarity of the child with Lord Bolton, beat the daughter-in-law and drove it from the mill. Ruse also saw this similarity - "The baby was really my eyes" - he was embarrassed and put his mother Ramsey defense: he gave her the mill, and the girl cut her tongue, so that he did not beat to complain to Sisser Ruse, Lord Ricardo Stark. Being married, Ruse did not take to himself either a woman nor a child, separating from them regular gifts - piglets, chickens, money wallets - and demanding from Mother Ramsey never telling her son who his father.

Ramsey Bolton. Stock Illustration Alice Nefreet Ilina

Nevertheless, when Bastard began to grow up, the mother appeared to the castle again, asking Lord to allocate a servant for him - the boy was grew by wild and unmanaged. Ruse for fun singled out one of his servants Heck on nicknamed smelly. Skyutka suffered some disease that forced him to smell badly, no matter how much he washed; Nevertheless, with Ramsey, they became inseparable. Mother and smelly breathe strongly inspired Ramsey that he had rights to Lord title.

After the death of the legitimate heir to Domerik, Lord Bolton took him to his dreadmill. What were the relationship of the Father and Son, it is unclear. Ruse himself responds about Ramsi rather negligible, but this is not the case when he can be believed. The influence of the father in the behavior of the bastard can be pretty clear. It is known that he has received a child as a gift hedge, whom he later became smelly. Mentioned another gift - ring.

Events

Battle of kings

Hunting. © Ill. Gibilynx (PinseLohr)

When Lord Bolton went to war, Ramsey remained the owner in Dredforth. He began to call himself Bolton, and not Snow, gathered a detachment of armed people and was entertained by hunting with dogs on people, mainly on women. The news of the death of the father and the son of Hornwood pushed him to actions, he decided to take possession of their lands. It is likely that the marriage of his father influenced him: in case of the appearance of a legitimate heir to Ramsey, he would lose all hopes for the dreadlord.

Ramsey made the theon play the role of his killed servant, smelly, not allowing him to wash. Ramsey removed the skin from several fingers on the hands and legs of the theon, forcing it to suffer several days before the damaged finger amputation. The teeth were broken by a hammer, as Ramsey hated his smile. As Ramse's squires, he took himself a great Wolder Freya and Little Walman Freya.

Ramsey captured Kalein's moat with the help of deception, sent by the theon as his messenger to convince railways, which by the time they were sick and suffered from hunger, to surrender in exchange for mercy and free passage to the house (at the same time, Ramsey allowed the theone in this event to play himself ). After delivery, all the railways were covered and exhibited along the road to the rally of Kalein, which caused displeasure to Rose Bolton, who stated that he should control his inclinations, which became well known in the north.

Ramsey married Jane bullets, which he and his father issued Stark for army. At the same time, during the first marriage night, Ramsey made the theone of "warm up" to him by the bride. Later, Theon and Jane were able to escape from Winterfella with the help of the mans of the raid and six of his recreation-spear, whom Melisandra sent to free the army of Stark to win the trust of John Snow. The theon and jane managed to escape, they jumped from the wall of the castle. Later, John received a letter in which Ramsey claimed that he grabbed the mans of the raid, broke the army of Baratheon Stannis in a seven-day battle, killed him and now owns his sword, and also that he demands his wife, his smelter, Shiren Baratheon, Selis Florent, Melisandra, "Prince of Wild" - otherwise he will come and take all the power. What part of the letter is true, and what a lie is unknown.

Gallery

TV series

Ramsi does not appear in the second season, but it is mentioned: Ruse Bolton informs Robob Stark that he left his bastard in the dreadnut and this Bastard is able to assemble the army and discourage Winterthell at the theon of Greyjoy. Robb Stark approves this plan. Later, Winterfell really finds himself in the siege ring, but the precipitating does not show, although a certain "damn trumpeter" behind the walls of the castle blows in the horn day and night, without giving the theon to sleep. In the third season, Ruse Bolton and Robb Stark receive a letter from Ramsi, reporting that the rail-born was burned by Winterfelle, and the location of Brane and Ricon Starks is unknown.

The unnamed character, known as the "Boy," appears in the dungeon, where people who came to be trying torture, disguised with rail-born. At the first appearance, he performs the duties of the Poloter, Maycha behind the spins of the executioner, but later promises crucifier on the cross the theton of assistance, assuring that it acts on the instructions of the Sister of the theon, Yar. He really suits the theton of escape, mining a horse for him.

When the theon is catching up and catching, "Boy" comes out of the forest shooting the pursuers from Luka. The head of the Palays of the theon, dying, calls his killer "little bastard." The "boy" escorts the theon in the castle, convincing that the sister is waiting for him there, but they need to be careful, since some of the people of Yars serve them with the theone of Father, Beylon. "Boy" argues that it comes from Saltcliffe and grew up with his father and brothers. According to his story, when the theon after the uprising of Bailon Grajdah was hidden north, the father of the boy showed him the outgoing ship and said: "Here is the last son of Bailon Grajda." Theon, penetrating the gratitude to his Savior, opens his soul, admitting him that Eddard Stark was for him the Father more than Beonon, and that Bran and Ricon Stark are actually alive.

As it turns out, the kindness of the "boy" was deception - instead of a meeting with his sister, the theon turns out in the same torture chamber, and this time his executioners heads the former fields. "Boy" does not give the theon to sleep, blowing into the copper horn, it comes to mocking questions, offering guess who he and where they are. The Breaktened theon goes through one option after another; "Boy" agrees with the assumption that he is one of the younger kartarkov and reciprocates on the theone for the execution of Lord Ricarda, but soon reports that she lied. He removes the theone of the skin with the little finger of the right hand and forces the theon to ask to cut off the crown finger.

Soon the theon turns out to be in the company of two girls who care for him and try to have sex with him. "Boy", hiding behind the door, interrupts them with a shock in the horn; When the theon is trying to resist, the "boy" knocks him down and armted with a hole-cool knife. In response to the requests of the theon about the Mercy "Boy" replies: "This is Mercy. I do not kill you, I just do some change».

At the end of the season, in the MHYSA series, Ruse Bolton in a conversation with Wolder Frey first calls his bastard named - Ramsey and says that he is "used to act in their own way." At the same time, Ramsey, indulging in the phantom pains ("I was always interested, whether Enunov Phantom Members hurt") gives a degraded the theone of Greyjoy a new name, "smelly", and beat him to accept him.

The annoying thought did not leave alone alone. Why she is obliged to repeat, to prove it to everyone: Bolton, Wald Frey, even daughter Psary ... When they finally understand that this is her house. Her Winterfelle.

Her legacy ...

Nervous laughs almost jumped out of thin mouth, as soon as the door closed the door behind Miranda.

No one believed in it ... Even she herself. Winterfelle is right, but she is here - the last one who possesses them.

Bolton ... Now Ruse Bolton rules the North, like her stronghold. No one more, because so ..? Her family is dead, like she herself. She has long been dead inside ... solid emptiness.

Weak lights of hope alternately flashed and Gasley in the dark, did not have time to burn.

Why are the old gods so angry ..?

There was a quiet knock ... Theon - the former once beautiful boy the theon, who was once her brother - wants to take the bride at hand in the man.

As humiliating. How Murzko.

So funny...

Enough. Already have enough of those insults that she carried at Joffrey in the royal harbor. From now on it will do everything to avoid this. Everything...

It seemed that the Dark Road was not in the goggling, but in the seventh peckel.

The theon of the seed near, holding a swinging lantern in a crumpled hand. The mixture of pity and disgust to it stifles it, preventing the frosty air with full breasts.

No, it is not necessary to think about it at all - at least not now.

Not now, when, once again, her fate makes a sharp hook, when once again it is forcibly married, when she once again cannot do anything again. Will it always be so? As if on a closed circle ... weak, helpless ... "Little Ptashka."

G Grage, who was a pupil of her father, "the theon loves, not raising his false, vile eyes.

Sansa makes a deep breath, trying not to scream in all the throat from the playful farce.

Yes, graze. Pupil. It is strange that you still remember it ...

The next time the question of Bolton, she barely caught his teeth. Why do they generally ask? Does she have a choice?

All the same, everything is decided ... I have always solved everything for it.

Sansa buckled the eyes of the crowd: strangers, gray faces. Sorrowful. As if at the funeral. That is how she felt and felt - as if he died here. Again. And again. And again...

Died every second. Every moment.

Chardrevo looked at her with red eyes-leaves from the height of a moonless black sky. White branches did not move at all, but Sanas seemed to be blonded to the ground. Stretch to the bottom - in the rupture grave.

Her grave.

Sansa Stark from Winterfella.

Winterfella ... the ex-home house - became a prison. What would her deceased brothers, Mother, Father say? What? Probably, they spill bitter tears now, looking at her through the red leaves of Chardreva - she so acutely felt someone's gaze ...

Both Bolton dug into it with cold muddy ice floes, which replaced their eyes. Forcing to make an uncertain step forward and crumple, no - do not express - squeeze out:

I agree.

Now we are husband and wife. We must be honest with each other, right?

Yes ... - I exhaled her lips when they were covered with a cold kiss.

The chilling stupor fought from the legs to the head, sipped the folds on the wound dress ... - Probably you feel so you kiss the dead man. Cold and non-living.

Skyushka will remain, - the dead sentenced. - You will look.

What he ... no, no, no ... Gods, no! For nothing ... why should he ..?

The lungs squeezed: breathing was cut off and stuck with a sharp ice lump in the throat.

Tell him immediately tell him. Ask ... begging ...

"He does not like boring," so you love this monster, Miranda? It..?

Can I repeat again? - Meanwhile, the dead man was angry.

His thick, the disgusting lips were jerked, splashing in the face of Sansa with mad salica.

I do not like to repeat twice!

Monster.

With trembling, disobedient fingers, she silently began to smooth the dress.

So you need, you are now a husband and wife. I thought you could run from it forever? Of course, no ... of course.

Fret. Remember who you are ... and you are at home, Sansa. The main thing you are at home.

"At first there was Kira, and then Vaolett, and after Penssi ..."

Cracked dresses for a moment stunned her. But wide ice palms, with greed clasped her naked back, forced to immediately come to themselves.

Persistent, not the victim resistances by the movement was laid by a girl on the stomach, pushing the face in fluffy skins on the bed. Wolf skins. Wolf ...

It seemed that she was lying on the robust skin of his brother and mother. And they look at her, look through thick walls from the red leaves of Chardrev.
Dry lips whispered even when the tense flesh of the Bolton broke into it, causing an outbreak of intolerable pain.

"North remembers Sansa," they are alive, they whisper with hot voices, "North will never forget!"
Out of the window focused a storm. Grozny, violent, with continuous strong shower and thunderwood, which was shaken by stone walls.

But bright lightning flashes and the rumbling black sky, looking into the narrow opening of a small window, were only in her head.

In the inflammed consciousness, that so hard did not want to enter the dark draws of reality: outside the snow window, San Sza. You are in Winterfelle.

And winter is close. She is already slowly stealing, lazily crawling away from the north of a giant ice snake, which will delay everyone in its path. Very soon, she will open a wide mouth, exposing poisonous sting, and absorbs her house - her Winterfelle, along with all his inhabitants.

Hurry ...

Why it seemed to her that the true harsh winter would bring bolton on clean water - no northeart. Hanging with thick blankets, trembling at night in their cooler day by the day of beds ... Half skinned skin and stretched wolf skins dead. And as soon as the long winter is bored - they will immediately become fastened, and after it is crumbling on small-minor ice floes. Sharp, transparent ice. Exactly like their eyes.

Although how could the cold feel those who have luxury frosts pour inside? At her personal nightmare - a raging blizzard instead of a heart; Walking blizzard instead of the soul. Does he feel his cold? ..

An involuntarily cooked hand from the bed, immediately recalled in the forearm of the shameful pain. The view besides the will slid on the porcelain of snow-white leather, stopping at the crimson bruised slightly above the elbow.

How humiliating and hurt ... Does she dreamed of such decorations since childhood? Sept often sentenced that if it would be beautifully dancing, sing well and skillfully embroider, then her future spouse - and they will be a brave famous knight or a wonderful Great Lord - certainly odds Sansu from his head to fifts precious stones and a rich decoration of outfits.

Here they are - her stone - large invaluable rubies aley on shoulders and neck. Right opposite, in a shapeless heap on a wooden table - the promised noble silk and velvet - wasping in a shred wedding dress.

The monster forbade him to clean.

It wanted she watched.

To remember who now belongs.

Sansa fell down his teeth, swallowing the full bitterness of Schlip, because he understood it - he would not sob, but pay.

Thin eyebrows trembled on the nose, trying to suppress convulsive sobs learned from the throat.

Not. After all, she promised himself that he would not pay.

Promised ...

Yourself and brothers. Father and Mother, which visited her in thoughts invariably every night after the monster, satisfied with her body, was widowed, walked back into his damned old and new gods of the room.

Sansa knew - felt - that gods on her side.

They did not turn away - no, they simply look with alienated, indifferent persons. Ensure shrugged. Watch how many troubles and humiliation will be able to bring a little Ptashka Stark?

And some will swing their heads, sorry her - yes, she needed even the ephemeral pity of the gods - she herself regret it already was tired. But they will also observe. Doesn't you fly a little Ptashka Stark?

No, not fly ...

She only knew how to sing, fluttering, hitting the rod of a durable cell.

And when her song will end, she will die. So easy, simple and beautiful ... as in one of the old ballads, which Sept told.

But will the north forgive her weakness? North after all remembers ...

She remembered: all the pain, all to the last drop. The unexpected thought came to mind - sister would never put his hands for anything. Little Dick, Arya's horse ... Sansa would never have thought that over time would put her as an example.

So, perhaps, Ptashka still plays the wings? ..

She hated the night.

It is with the onset of the dark pore of the day to her in the door, a monster was selected, breaking into the room together with cool night air and whose snow-snowing snow on his shoulders.

Monster? Her spouse. Yes, it's time to get used to. It is understood that if you drive off the truth, with a stubborn zeal, plunging deeper and further into the saving past, in your unfulfilled children's dreams, then never. Never get out of here.

Never be able to fly away.

Ramsey took her roughly, rigidly, like a wild forest beast. She knew - I read it on his muddy, ice eyes - that he specially hurts her pain, completely consciously receiving unprecedented satisfaction from this. What a monster ...

And the theon always watched.

And sometimes the monster ordered her to look at him in response, until it was in rear.

At such moments, Sansa did not understand what he sees behind tears, slamming the wet wet eyes of G Grage. Pity, compassion ... but to her or to yourself? For whom, the theon was sobbed - according to his sister or former dignity?

And San's looked out.

As stupid ... Empty, do not lead thoughts. Only they arose, hardly it was worth looking into the killer's eyes of her brothers. In the eyes of a grading traitor, full of dirty, unworthy tears.

Skyushka, - reminded his new name a cold voice in the head. Gods, what did he allow to create with him? ..

And she hurriedly dug his eyes - she should not, will not regret it, shocking from hard, coarse jesters behind; It sometimes it seemed that a little more - and her burning pain would break from the inside.

But the monster immediately recognized about misdemeanor, as if she saw all her heads. And it was worth the Sanas to lower the eyelids, as strong palms immediately dug into the shoulders, causing screeching from unexpected pain.

And the icy fingers have already wrapped up her chin and throat, pulled back, pressing to a steady strong body, forcing the arc bending.

I ordered to look into the eyes of stinks, dear ... - with a feigned tenderness whispering his disgusting lips into the ear.

The skin was instantly covered with goosebumps, feeling a hoarse, biting of a spouse and feeling a crumbling heart, a terrible smirk that was sprawling a poisonous snake on his mouth.

He continued to be attached to her from behind, holding the face of Sansse at the level of the Eye of the theon. And each time his fingers squeezed with violent force, it was worth it to climb from unbearable pain or just to look from Grazeoy, full disgust and contempt. Squeezed, forcing it again.

Why?..

Why did it bring him pleasure?

She assumed that Miranda had everything differently with him. Or, this girl shared his "preferences"?

Judging by her story about the former girlfriends Ramsey, she is no less cruel monster.

All of them are here are monsters.

The door was silently opened, and Ramsey's room slowly entered the room, a chain look at the shape frozen on the wolf skin.

Heavy sigh with a whistle broke out of the lungs and, it seemed, it became harder to breathe.

Good evening darling. As you see, I am today without stinks. You probably madly upset ...

Good evening, Milord ...

He was always angry when she did not answer as it should be.

I suppose with the prelude, it is finished, - his face stretched a wide smile, exposing two pointed fangs from the top row of smooth snow-white teeth.

So people do not smile - the beasts will be scanned.

Ramsi in two steps turned out to be at the bed of Sansa, on the way freeing herself from unnecessary clothing. Then jerk raised a girl on his feet, having grown a long night shrug with her shoulders.

What is here with us? - He whispered with a perverted surprise, when his fingers touched the crimson bruises on a thin neck.

Bolton's eyes were rounded, looking at her expectantly.

Sansa shook his head slightly, forcing the redhead strands of a heavy wave to shift on the shoulders, covering ugly marks.

Nothing, Milord, - exhaled by a broken voice.

If only it was not angry ... She never knew that he could bring him out of her own moment.

Strong fingers closed on her chin, turning a distorted fear of her face.

Do you understand what did it deserve it? - in brushing voice asked the monster.

No, no monster. Spouse. Spouse - remember, Sansa.

This is a monster - your husband.

If you run, then you will not kill anything. No matter how ridiculously did not seem like this phrase, but Sanance believed in her. After all, she got used to believe in ridiculous dreams and stupid songs ...

What, Milord? "Her heavenly blue eyes, probably, have now reminded the look of a dog's broken dog, but the voice, oddly enough, did not flinch for the first time.

Ramsey raised his eyebrows this time with sincere surprise, while rounded wild eyes even stronger.

By the fact that you are not submissive to your spouse, "he suddenly whispered in such a tone, as if he explained his prank to the child. - Good wives always do what husbands want from them.

Okay. Husband. Okay...

It seems that she finally tried the mind, for it seemed to her - that she understood what he was talking about. I guessed what kind of game led the monster with her.

And, probably, she will play it ... After all, Sansa has no choice.

She never had a choice.

As if I triggered something about her thoughts, Ramsey slowly leaned toward her, poured on her lips with some unusual sophisticated sophisticated tenderness and caution. It certainly did not foretell anything good ... From this kisses Sansa frowned so that the most bodied frost was covered with a snowy bedspread.

But it was impossible to lose a second of precious time. The monster too quickly went out of itself, flashes like a wild alchemical fire; roared a bright green bustling flame, destroying everything in its path. And nothing is able to stop him - it remained only to pray the gods so that it would be quarrels.

Desperately distinguishing from herself a fearing thought that now she can awaken in this cold deadly the flames in this cold dead, Sansa pushed the petrified lips ...

And for the first time answered his kisses. Fragmentally, timidly, ineptly. With a fading heart in the chest. But answered ...

Hardly cloudy, waiting for a hail of shocks by body, slap, laughter - yes, anything. But answered ...

Ramsey could not ignore it - she knew - but he did not ignore. Having removed just for one second, looking at her eyes in her fear, he grinned shortly and again dug in her lips a more persistent kiss, already stronger and stronger, forcing himself to succumb.

And she succumbed. Merging with his lips and tongue, stupid and ineptly, barely opening like petrified little mouth.

A sharp push in the chest - and she already lies on the bed.

There was a heavy body on top there, covering each bruise on the neck of greedy kisses. He probably knew, yes - that this will also hurt her. Number, stupid pain, a foolish coat that is moving in thoughts.

Terp, Sansa. Terp. The gods see how hard you. But terpi.

And after all, there was no point in relying on the gods - she knew ... They are blind and deaf to her requests.

Wet lips again dug in her mouth, coming them to blood.

With a quiet painful moan, she is responsible - forced to respond. Good wives always do what the husbands want from them ...

"Thin fingers timidly lay on strong shoulders, claking them and stroking them. Ramsey switched to the neck and began to leave socks and bite the skin making as much as possible. I tried to hold and not cry. I was ashamed and hurt. And scary. He began to hurt my breast with one hand, the second breast he bite as stronger as possible. The second hand he shoved three fingers in my Lono. It was very painful and disgust. Then he switched to the most terrible part and entered me. And already started hard to drive into me. It was too painful. And no longer remains forces to restrain tears. He seeing that he broke me morally and physically lied and began to scratch the skin, simultaneously entering me. It all ended after a couple of hours. "

Ramsey buried muffled; His sticky seed flowed through her thighs. For a few minutes, she did not move and barely breathe. She wanted to get up like Ramsey grabbed her hand and pulled to himself. Sansa has not been cut off, the body hurt too much, and there was no strength. As soon as he leaves, Sansa immediately shake his sheets to her sheets, before the appearance of red chants on the skin wounded.
As if she could erase all the disgust, which was tested to Bolton and his own.
He began to get stronger and stronger and one after an hour could two dressed and ordered the theone of putting me in order and follow me. After me, the theon washed away all the time apologizing and crying. I was, as if in a terrible dream. I did not feel anything except for the new pain and genuine fear. Ramsey she was needed clean.

Although yesterday, nothing prevented him to take the daughter of Psary on Pernaryna - among the outgoing ferry fresh manure and scratch piglets. Among the sticky of disgusting dirt and the unbearable vony ...

He told about it himself. After all, according to him, "they should not have some secrets from each other." And promised that after the last night with Sansa, this will not happen again ... After all, "she did what they make good wives." Made what was needed to him. Obeyed. Sterpel. He answered ... Sansa lunch together with Bolton: Ramsey, Ruse and Walda. All happened as usual. After a lunch, Ramsi ordered to prepare us a large hot water bath. I froze terribly and therefore, seeing the bowl with water, immediately undressed and climbed into the bath. "Ramsey is also undressed and climbed with me in a bowl with water. His face was distorted by a cunning grimace. When I have already ceased to tremble from the cold, Ramsey began to kiss me and sat on myself. Enemy, embarrassed and clumsily she kept continuing active jolts on it. ... And he continued to go, demonstrating his fangs in a terrible rubble. Rying as if he was a beast in the human body.
Later we moved to bed, where he penetrates me again. But not so roughly as before. When it all ended, he dreamed next, like a puppy, bolding me into his hair and holding his hands tightly. "
The heavy body of Ramsey covered the Body of Sansa almost damaged from pain. She could not move. When he finally fell asleep, Sansa got up and went to the mirror and saw the girl, until the disgrace was Hudu. She had a pale face, like a dead man, her eyes were red from tears. Hands trembled. This girl was dead in the soul, but a living body. This girl is similar to me former. But the former I was cheerful and dreamed of a prince or knight on a white horse. Sansa catches himself on what he thinks about Ramsi too often. It scares her.

At first it seems to her that everything is in fear. Sansa thinks that soon it will be able to forget the cruel expression of these eyes the color of dirty ice, but they persistently rush to leave her consciousness. Together with them, another images come to the head: he was ruined, who at night sometimes he almost looked like a smile, his sarcasm, who, if close his eyes, almost does not bring pain and his acurate-angry touch, which he gave her in the morning, Riding a blanket from the floor before leaving their bedroom until the next nightmare. Sansa recalls the very sensations that I sparks do not hatred at all pierced the body every time, when the worst of my husbands picked her shoulders covered with bruised her shoulders and closed the door behind him into two castles. The sound of the key turning in the well, reminded the click. Each kiss with Ramsey carries with him a strange veil of secrets. Sansa is indifferent and submissively answering the salty because of his own tears of the kisses of her husband and feels like boils inside hatred, leisurely poisoning consciousness. Blurred angry mind on the goodbye hand does not wave, like the floor, outgoing from under his feet: Ramsey clearly makes it clear that the short foreplay is officially finished, and take it on the bed.

Stark is not experiencing almost no pleasure from sex with a bastard Bolton, but it is ready to endure almost all for the former moments after. As soon as the married duty is confessed with her husband with an orgasm, it allows themselves to close his eyes and turn away, wakingly listening to the breath of Ramsey. In his place, Sansa represents someone else, good and caring, loving it so much as she hates the monster, with whom it divides the bed. The girl perfectly understands how stupid and naive it is her dreams, but nothing can do, falling into a dream with a clear confidence that there is a beautiful prince from children's dreams.

Wedding gift, - Ends Ramsi - the beginning of the phrase eclipses from the hearing of Sansua - and touches his icy heel to her back.

Sansa opens his eyes, shaking off his sweet dorm, and with difficulty finds the strength to turn over to look in the face of Bolton - after all, it is so good wives talk to their favorite husbands.

What are you, Milord? - Sanance squeezes himself.

Ramsey is touching her hand, turns his fingers with their own, and Sanas so much from this is frozo, that she feels like it begins to fit, but courageously tolerates, squeezing his husband's palm.

You never got your wedding gift, "Bolton grines.

Stark again hardly listens - her husband's eyes are fully occupied: black-and-blue, usually dull and watery, in the dark seem saturated, bright and produce the impression that their owner is exactly the prince from the dream of any girl, and not a sick bastard. Sansa suddenly is not even unaffording that they have such eyes from Ramsi. From this thought becomes disgusting, and the girl resolutely drives her away.

And what will it be, Milord? - Asks Stark, although it is absolutely to do with her curiosity, even if Ramsey intended to present her all Westeros and Iron throne in the golden saucer.

Surprise, - Hams the husband and clicks it with cold fingers of a free hand on the nose. - You'll see soon.

"He froze," - understands Sansa, but does not experience the slightest desire to highlight that the beloved husband can pull the blanket from under her. Thanks to Ramsey, she now can completely calmly withstand any cold and feels that barefoot and in one night arm will be able to walk even in fresh snow.

After a second, Cartk recalls that adult people at night are warmed not only with blankets, and lifted on the elbows, carefully filling the palm from Ramsey's fingers. Bolton understands everything silently and after a couple of moments is already covered, it is noble to shake the corner of the blanket.

Sanas from this is funny, although in fact she wants to throw on the moon in the window and lying in the animal. Hate and angry poisoned from the inside, and sometimes the girl seems to be that a few more formal kisses and exchanges with smiles with her beloved husband, and Winterfelle shakes a loud explosion - it will split on hundreds of little pieces and will again see his father, mother, brothers and arrews.

Sansa is waiting for a gift, because she absolutely nothing to do. It perfectly understands that nothing good to expect from Ramsi is not worth it: her husband is a sick bastard and the maximum tenderness, which he is capable of, - do not forget to send her maids with food.

Stark is lying on the bed, throwing her legs to her husband on the pillow and the busting head so that the hair sweeps the floor. The room is now inverted and seems half the usual, and the door always turns out to be in sight. The girl regularly mows the window, trying to guess the exact time of the Sun, and is languishing from boredom.

When she hears the steps - confident, fighting some of them to the owner of a famous rhythm, - Sansa takes a divine pose, because Ramsey will find out from a thousand. Lazily throws a look into the window and understands that it is still too light for the performance of married debts, and for a secluded family dinner - it is not dark enough.

The castle snaps, the door creaks, opens, and Ramsey is in the room. Sansa gives a laugh, because in the hands of Bolton's bastard, the most golden dish, which she thought at night. The lid from above interferes with a look at the surprise, but Stark frankly do not care that under it - curiosity only lazily pulls the tail and opens one eye exclusively due to congenital decency.

Good afternoon, Milord, - Sansa smiles. From her eye does not hide someone else's slaughter on the neck of his beloved husband, but the girl does not touch the girl at exactly, although the jealousy is immediately taken by sharp cogot to pour something on the stroit of consciousness.

Ramsey in response only nods and with a view of a magician raises the cover of a late wedding gift.

I promised to be honest with you, he chops. - Yes, and why do I need a mistress when I have such a good wife?

Miranda's head slowly rolls to the legs of Sansues. She starts shouting from Shock. She loses consciousness. The familiar voice wakes it.
-Sans, didn't you like it?
"No, no Milord ... I really liked it, barely said Sansa.
-Then I will leave you alone with your gift. - Ramsey grinned and left the room. Ramsey understands the anatomy much better than in the relationship between people, but instinctively understands that his wife, let and the one hates and regularly try to escape, you need to pamper at least occasionally, because on one knurle no lady will not live for a long time. Especially if she comes from the noble genus and got used to sleep at night, and not silently cry, performing a married debt. The rome of that Ramsey will leave the castle for two weeks.

Sometimes you need to take care of your toys, while they are still well or at least tired. Ramsey rarely follows this rule - count, almost never, but from the unfortunate of Sansa already cuts the cheekbones and the ugliest itself. True, a completely different occasion: the new wife is slowly, but surely begins to bother.

Boltonian no longer Bastard easily finds out that it makes the last stark smile - despite the big doubt that such things exist at all. It turns out that in addition to banal and completely female weaknesses, Sansa loves lemon cupcakes. This Ramsey finds out from stinks, which is silent for a long time, experiencing his patience before start talking.

In the kitchen without unnecessary words are taken for the preparation of dessert. Ramsey hears like older cooks, barely closes the door, begin to whisper. They understand that they will be ready for now, and simply to some strange madness proud by what they can bring "to the life of poor orget" at least a drip of joy.

Ramsey exhales me noisily and again reminds himself that Sansa has too much in the north of "friends" who are burning with the desire to help her, and he, unfortunately, can not remove all the skin with them and hang somewhere in moderation well to love The wife could admire their bodies from the window every morning. The last idea is pleasantly heating the soul, and he already wants to start her fulfillment, but the cakes are sleeping on time, saving cooks from painful death.

The tray is hot and unpleasantly burning hands, and it is knocking on foot, but Ramsey doesn't really annoy it - the beloved wife immediately opens the door, hiding his eyes. Sansa with genuine curiosity studies his shoes and the irregularities of the floor, without paying any attention to a gift.

Good afternoon, Milord, she grabbed softly and takes a step towards, missing Ramsi into the room. - So early?

Bolton feels that if he was in a drip of a different mood, then the wife for the last question was quite possible, he won the woven, but now Ramsey is too busy to drive a sour mine from the adorable Santa Lichik, and decides to spend an educational conversation about how to speak With your favorite husbands, a little later.

Skyutka says that you do not eat anything, "Ramsey pulls and puts a tray on the table. - Why?

Sansa is finally breaking away from learning his shoes and raises his eyes. She does not look at Ramsi, Stark drills the space behind him, paying now all his attention with the wall. In her eyes, Bolton does not even see fear, only fatigue and hunger. It becomes clear that it is not a desire to eat - the biggest manifestation of disagreement, to which it is only capable of four walls, and even until the moment until the food forcibly appease in it.

I am not hungry, my lord. Thanks for the concern, - squeezes Sansa from myself a smile and noisily pulls the air to the nose.

Ramsey is quite a smart and understands perfectly - the wife is too proud to touch the dessert in his presence. He does not want to compete in stubbornness for some reason, and he leaves the room, throwing goodbye:

Leave me one thing - he grins, locking the door to the key. In the evening, on the Ramsi tray, a cold and disgusting cake is already waiting for the taste, and Sansa regrets the lack of poison in it.
On the day of his departure, Ramsi visited Sansu. He looked at her a long, piercing look of light blue, almost icy, eyes, forcing thousands of goosers to run through the fragile maiden shoulders and descend along a straight back, bought in black dressing tissue. He looked at her subtle, pale, slightly opposing, fingers, as they kicked the scarlet apple, so inaccessible and mystical in these ice edges, and a silver knife, sparkling in the semi-particle of the room, which was lit a fireplace.

Her movements were smooth, a bit awkward, if you look from the point of view of a murderer warrior, which he - Ramsi Bolton - was. It looked ridiculous, to the impossibility unreal: her red hair braked into the braid, which did not fit into the gloomy, dark walls, grief with golden flame; Her bright, heavenly eyes that looked at the fruit through the whirlwind of lowered eyelashes. Sometimes these eyes looked at him with meek, slightly frightened look, as if he would look at her at any moment. It was amused. At times, fear liked, like her pale hands with elegant fingers, and her fragile figure. Truly princess. Frightened, childishly cute princess. His princess. Princess of his north.

Sansa ... - The voice of his hoarse and quiet, but quite distinguish in silence, which surrounded their two. Hearing him, the girl shuddered and dropped almost purified apple. It, having gone from his knees, fell to the floor and continued the way along the wooden, creamy floors until Bolton stopped his foot. Bending and holding up an apple, a man looked thoughtfully at him: a dirty fruit was not so attractive as before, in the gentle hands his spouses. Probably, she also looks like Starck, now - Sansa Bolton: Not as attractive as before marriage with him, not so beautiful, as before. Before Princess Winterfella became his wife, he heard a lot of words about her beauty, he was dreaming about her, who saw at least once. He was sang about her smile, that, like the Sun, illuminated the hearts of the suffering and having fun of those who were visiting Starks; He sang about her laugh, who gave the tall of the bells and about how hard she had a true lady, cause laughter. He felt tied to her. Brutally tied to show his superiority, his greatness, herself devoid of everything before and now who has gotten everything and, in particular, her. Probably, he and just needed it. Recognition, for which he hated and despised everyone. Especially her. Especially this connection. But he could not deprive himself this connection - did not want. In it, he saw that part of himself that he got from Mother - a stupid wife of the Pekary, naively believing that Lord Bolton would take her son with open arms. Part of its humanity. She caused a pleasant bitterness in his mouth, from which she did not want to refuse.
-Sans - his voice became threatening.
- Yes, Milord? "Her voice is also quiet, but at the same time rings with steel determination than it causes a smile on his face. It is absolutely squeezing the knife in his right hand and for the sake of greater determination, concerns the left palm of the blade of the knife. She is so brave, this wolf. Even being in a hunter's lair, which is capable of giving her body, it growls. Rugs proudly, as if her whole pack was near, as if, all the stars were here.

He thoughtfully declares her head on his side and goes to her slow, confident step, forcing him to shove into the chair: so imperceptibly for her, trying to look brave, and so expected for him - it should be so. A dark-haired hunter slightly leaning over the Wolf and Neva concerns her fiery strands, feeling how bright flare flames are reflected with a light shine under a quiet crunch of lane. The girl squeezed the knife in the right palm and, shuddering, scratched the back side of the left. Lord Winterfella looked at the knife, which Sansa squeezed harder and put out in front of him, barely touching his leather vest. And it is so exciting: she is trying to show him that he can stand up for himself, which is able to argue the knife into the body with his trembling hands. And it is not angry it. It only enters it, causing a completely unexpected decision in his head: he, not paying any attention to the knife, smoothly bends towards the table and the dexterous movement of his hand takes a jug with wine. A couple of moments that seemed by Sanance by Eternity, and a sharp liquid with a quiet splash is bottled into a silver glass.

Drink. - demandingly pronounces brunette, stretching the silver glass to the girl, who, without taking his glance, looked into his chest - where a couple of seconds ago, the knife rushed with his sharp fingers. Ramsey saw in her eyes the darkness was raised from the feeling that she lost her, perhaps the only chance to get rid of his torch.
Silently swallowing, the red-haired princess is softly touched by a moathed out of the gland and squeezes him, barely on her fragile palm puts the rough palm of the hunter.

A stupid girl ... - with irony in a voice whispering Bolton and squeezes her thin fingers on a glass, the second palm deftly snatching the knife from her hand. Sansu's blue eyes widened from horror when the warmth of her palm disappeared from her touch. No exit. They will return back to the beginning, to the beginning, what is happening at night and stands in front of her eyes during the day. The owner of the ice, burning eyes gently spends his fingers on the wrist of the palm, as for the glade, and, intercepting it, allows the thin fingers of the girl to rolling from silver. As soon as Santa's trembling fingers find themselves in his palm, as Lord Bolton with a smile pronounces:

Look what kind of trouble you are. Hurt. "The former Starck burns his eyes away from disgust when the brunette is inclined and touches the lips of the back of her palms, covering his eyes. Cold fingers under the hot lips are slowly warming, causing a smile on the face of the killer. She tried, clouding his eyes, imagine that there was a knife or a whip. However, the very cold gun, at the request of Ramsi, touched her body, breaking the dress, with the ornament of the wolf, that she sewed a couple of days ago. Cracked and Zakripyev under the blade of the knife, the fabric broke out, allowing Bolton, which was not over her, to see the beaten, not once, but still a wonderful body. The ice eyes of the bastard with some, unknown Sanance watched on her.

Today there will be a new torture. - The killer's voice trembles from excitement and triumph, from which Santa's lips escape the quiet semi-sob, semi-moan. He, hanging over the girl and inhaling the spicy smell of apples, which came out of her solar hair, could not understand what it would lead to. Therassi pressed her to himself, having lowered the remnants of a torn dresses on the cold floor.
-Led. - A completely quiet voice said Ramsey.
Ramsi liked to observe how obediently with the fear of Sansa performs his orders. Ensured nude covered with pile of bruises, bruises, scratching his spouse, she moved his fingers in anticipation of torture. He blinked the candle and approached her. She felt his ice breath. On her skin, like a fragile chorcelain. Her thighs, he began for the old.
"I don't care, Sansa. Dvei closed, shouts filled the room.
****
Two weeks passed. The midnight took place at midnight, Sansa stood near the open window, peering into the darkness of the night. The hands were shaking slightly, so the girl tightly clung to the window ledge. The room was cool, the wind is still a curtain cracked, and the flame of fire has all tormented to smoother, leaving it in a pitch darkness.

But not darkness frightened Sansu Stark, she did not catch a wolf's wolf, causing a wish to beat the corner, and what was hidden in this darkness; What will come from it. And comes to her.

Tonight, her husband is returning from a two-week hunt. Ramsey Bolton. And he, of course, the first thing will be at the door in their bedroom. The only place where in childhood the girl felt safety, turned into a torture - to Crane, where he also tied his faithful hellish hounds, tortured pain and hunger.

A tightly tightened dress prevented breathing, so the excitement of the girl was expressed only in convulsive sighs, in long fingers clinging to the hem, then behind the coarse tree. How can you fall asleep in such conditions? How can I meet it already in bed? Every minute brought out Sansu to the next portion of suffering.

Behind thinks about the upcoming future, the creaking of the door flew past the ears of the girl, and the male figure is still in the fur robe entered the room, following the door loudly behind him. Starting with all the body, Lady Sansa reluctantly, but gracefully turned, having met with black eyes, literally foggled her entirely.

We are waiting for me, "Ramsey grinned and in two steps overcame the distance between them, rudely pulling the girl to his waist.

Yes, my dear husband, - sprinkling these words, quietly said the ex-Stark.

The excitement, previously disturbing the girl, disappeared irrevocably, leaving after himself only some kind of bitterness. Only strong hands remained, compressing in unwanted hugs, and the fur collar, so unpleasantly stuck skin.

All these two weeks I thought about you, Sansa, - a calm voice said Bolton on the girl's ear. - I thought about how to arrive at the arrival of you right at this window.

Shipping shoulders, the girl tried to move away from Ramsey, and only after a couple of seconds awareness of his mistake thundered in his head.

Lord Winterfella laughed, almost smoking, exposed smooth teeth and pushed the girl with one hand from herself. Without standing on the legs, and more confusing the dresses in the Podol, Sansa flew to the floor. The glance was again chained to her hands.

Once you want to play disobedience, play.

No, I do not…

Bolton's hand rudely clutched in red hair, spoiling a neat hairstyle. Washing her hair on a fist, he dragged the girl towards the bed, passing by her silent silent. He pushed her body on the bed and took out the belt. He put it hard damage, leaving the crimson stripes on her body, on which it will begin to be bored. But he did not invest his strength and power in his blows. He just played to play To hear her screams. When Ramysy became bored with a silent wife, who did not say any sound, he called the servants so that her wounds on his back. She did not rub her tears, she silently endured all the trials of fate. When it all ended Ramsey fell asleep on her chest.
"Ramsey slept a bed of the righteous, no matter how ridiculous these words sounded in relation to him. Throwing one hand on the eyes, he was peacefully poured next to me, and he was completely not disturbed by my puffy while I tried to free my harsh hands from the belt that had shy. Today I was able to surprise my spouse twice, showing aggressiveness. I dugged into nails in his face, I bite my hands and fell desperately, and Ramsey only laughed and the fire in his eyes flared up all the hotter. Finally, the moment came when the cat went to the game with his victim. Then Ramsey intercepted my wrists with one hand, and the other knitted their belt.
"I think it's time to finish with the prelude," he grinned into my face and, turning his back to him and grabbing his hair, took me from behind. Ramsey enough grunted during our struggle, so the act itself did not take much time.
- Well, Milady, today you pleased me. What about to fall asleep in the arms of each other after making love. It seems that all the spouses do? - With these words, he threw my knitted hands through his head, dropped on the pillows and pressed me to himself. Soon he fell asleep.
Thousands of thoughts were swallowed in my head while I listened to his even breathing. Today I made a discovery: if some was to protect me, then I could quite stand up for myself. As if I returned to the point when, together with Joffrey, I looked at my father, planted on a peak. The same cold determination originated in my chest, like when I wanted to push this geek down.
"In the baked bolton!" - I mentally repeated, trying to untie the knot on the belt. Finally he succumbed and I pulled his hand from the breast of Ramsi. The cutting muscles with difficulty succumbed to control. I bent and dispersed my fingers and the most slowly looked at them between Perin, fastening the corkscrew there. Also leisurely, constantly listening to the breath of Ramsey, I brought my hand over my head. He has never been so close and defenseless, so it is impossible to lose opportunities. But only I decided to act as a voice rang out:
- Do you at least know where to stick your toy?
I saw her eyes open at hand. He lazily reached out to his neck and pointed his finger to a vein, a blue-skinned under the pale skin.
- Knee here, my dear, and then I will not have time to shake you like a fly.
By gathering the will in the fist, I sharply lowered my hand, sending my muddy weapons to the specified place. Only when the edge turned out to be in a centimeter from the skin, Ramsey intercepted my wrist. His pupils expanded from delight and excitement, the lips stretched out in a mad smile. I seemed for the first time I saw him so close and distinctly. Next to me lay a crazy sukin son who can turn me into a wet place with one blow, but for some reason my resistance was amused. "So, what is next?" - I thought and myself was surprised at my calm.
Ramsey pulled out a corkscrew and confused me for himself. He squeezed my throat with his hand with force, and the edge read the line from the throat to the navel. I was not so much hurt, how much is disgusting, and not thinking about (and what to lose the murder attempt after the failed attempt?) I snatched a corkscrew and one squeaming skin across his chest. He broke his sigh, he again changed the situation, allowing me to settle it. I felt as far as he was excited.
The corkscrew was not so sharp to cause serious damage, but I still managed to let the blood. For the first time I hurt to another person and now it could not take a look from a white breast with a scarlet strip, crossed her.
- And what will you do next, Sansa? Will you try to kill me again?
It is strange that this thought did not come to me. Now I fought with a completely different desire and slowly licked the lips.
"Do not hesitate, act," Ramsi pushed me in short voice.
True, who is shy here? I only sees this sick bastard. Leaving doubts, I lowered my weapon, leaned and began to collect his blood from the ribs to the clavicle. The taste was salty and extremely exciting. I felt so hard his chest rose. It was worth it to be close enough to his face, as he dug into my lips a violent kiss. The hands firmly squeezed my hips and he entered me with a sharp impetus. I did not restrain the moan, which only subpeded Ramsey. Then I decided to make the Bolton moan and launched the nails in the breast cut. The pain mixed with pleasure sounded in his voice. The movements became more rhythmic, we did not interrupt the visual contact for a moment. The Ramsey time was still sitting, looking into my eyes, and then, without letting me, smoothly dropped into the pillows. Sweet source filled his body, and I could not find my strength to ride my half of the bed. I listened to the mad beat of his heart, until the rough fingers stroked my hair. None of us uttered a word. So, resting on his broad chest, I immersed for myself plunged into the village.
*******
I entered the room. My dear wife was standing near the window opening and tried to get out of the castle. Sansa heard my steps and turned around. I went closer and spoke to her:
- If so, Milady, I give you a choice! - I exclaimed, keeping her skirts. - Or you push the legs, or fly down from this window. - And already tougher directly in the face. "And I assure you, Sansa, I like both options."
Some time Santa looked into my eyes as evaluating. Neither the shade of fear, only the calculation. And so I felt how to move onto her knees. Good choice! She tried to shift his hips to get off the window, but who would give her such an opportunity? I took her right in the window opening, holding hard for the frame, and Sansa would have grabbed the shoulders with all his strength and squeezed his hips to his hips, just to stay on this side. Sex becomes just incredible when you do not know whether to finish it! We switched to bed. All ended after 2 hours.
Sansa slipped out of bed. Darkness did not allow to see where it is, and only the sound of a sword removed from the sheath pointed me to its place its position.
- And now you decided to cut me with the same sword! My lovely, I heard about insects who kill each other after Socia, but for people?
"I just wanted to look at your sword," she replied a calm voice, and I believed her.
- Sword as a sword, what is amazing in it?
- You are right, absolutely nothing. My father had a sword from Valirian steel, the real sword of the keeper of the North. Such a sword would be worthy of you.
How did she learn to sleep so simple, as if he really thought what he said? Her words warmed the soul.
- And what happened to this miracle sword?
- He was remembered for Prince Joffrey. And even the sword from Valirya became not saved from poison, - Sansa whispered with notes of ignition and slid back into bed. Silence covered us.
- Tell me about Joffrey! They say he was cruel?
- He was far from you.
- compliment?
-No, only a fact.
"I like such facts, with these words, Ramsey grabbed the fingers of Sansues and squeezed them in their cold hand. Ramsey is touching her hand, turns his fingers with their own. Sometimes Ramsey wanted her to answer his gross affection, kisses, did something in bed, except sobbies and scrawls. His look is almost gentle if it can be such a patient bastard. Sansu throws away from this look, but she courageously continues to look into the face of her husband. If it were not for his character, he thinks the girl, perhaps it could be called beautiful. But the pronounced chin clearly makes it clear how hard his owner is cruel. On the threshold of the bedroom, she suddenly shuddered, noticing the theon there, and froze in place. Despite the fact that she meets the young Kraken not for the first time, it is unpleasant to look at him. His appearance insults her. Ramsey already wanted to hit him, but he restrained. I didn't want Sansa to be afraid of him and was shaking, no matter how he and she did not shut down.

Having drawn his beautiful head in the shoulders, the young northerkhanka on the stunned legs took place toward the bed and sat down on the edge. Why is she trembling?
Ramsey tried to smile with warmth, which could be capable of being capable of being too friendly.
- Why are you tremble, Lady Santa?
The girl glanced in the direction standing in the corner of the graceoy and, without responding, again hung around.
- Smelchka, you can go! - Bolton snapped, throwing a ferocious look at him.

Theon nodded and, bending with all the body to the floor, came out. Ramsey hurried to locate the door behind him, as if someone would entered here without his permission.
Trying to overcome unexpected awkwardness, he sat down next to Sansa and covered her cold handle with his. Her fingers trembled, but the hand remained lying in the same place.
- You were already married, right? - Ramsey was awesome looking at the golden curls of hair on her temples. She's like heavenly creation ...
"Yes," Sansa did not even turn his head in his direction. " - But Tyrion is not ...
- There was nothing between you? - leaning closer, Bolton asked the whisper.
The girl shook her head - no, it was not.
He fell on his heart. Beautiful, innocent, like an angel, she fell into the hands of a cruel, merciless ... For a long time I did not think about myself in such expressions.
- Do I undress, Milord? - She said as if her face muscles were frozen from frost. Fear sowed it. Fear in front of him.
Ramsey sighed. Miranda he took at any time and anywhere, and she was not against, but it did not work with Sansa. He was all the time disgusting.
- Would you like this, Sansa?
"You are my husband, Milord," says, she does not want.
Sansa shuddered when Ramsey rose and kissed her forehead.
- Good night, my dear spouse ..
He lets his hand and gives Sansse to leave.
He did not show her the illustrated bodies, did not hit, did not insult. What is today with him, did Stark thought? Why did he become such good? And is it possible to call it kindness?
Sansa every day remembers what is happening at night. It causes disgust and squeamishness. It would be better if Ramsi was an impotent, he thinks the girl, and from this thought she becomes funny.
Is it always so unpleasant and terrible? Can it be otherwise? Could it be different? Can Ramsey be different?
Late in the evening Ramsey came to her room and offered stroll.

They walked along the wall of the castle, inhaled cold air and silent: Sansa did not want to talk, and Bolton decided not to disturb her. Based on his hand, she looked at his broken, crippled Winterfelle, and her heart cried. When her family lived here, everything was different. Eddard, Camelin, Robb, Arya, Bran, Ricon - Where are they now? Some of them walks on the land of the ghost, and someone ... It's terrible to think what happened to Aric ... And John, the only surviving brother - on the wall and will not come here. We'll have Sanance alone to replace all starks.

What do you think my soul? - finally broke the silence of Ramsi. Immersed in thought, she almost forgot that he goes next to her.
"That's not to return, Sansa looked at his colorless eyes." In them were ... sympathy? - Do you, too, something sad, Milord?
Ramsey gentle movement smeared the snow from her hood.
"It's sad that my spouse is not glad to return home, she does not impose marriage with me ... -Ith words as if poison poisoned Sansu from the inside.
"I no longer remember when I was happy for the last time." After these words, Mimik Ramsey twisted in a formidable grimace.
He let her hand and went to himself.
The next morning Sansa had breakfast with Bolton. The door of the Great Damn was opened, filled with a terrible creak, notifying about the arrival of a new person in the hall. Ramsi, sitting at the table opposite his father, quickly turning his head, threw a sparkling look toward the wedd wife. Sansa, calm and peaceful, more than ever, proudly passed through the room, intending to sit at the table.
- Good afternoon, Lady Sansa, - Rouse Bolton twisted his lips in a half jelly, trying to look a friendly owner.
"And to you the same," the girl was sank, without hiding however, his disgust to the interlocutor.
Starck with a creak pulled the chair for himself and, holding a black dress skirt, sank into the chair, meeting with a tested-inductive look of the spouse.
"You're in a raised mood today, as I will see," Bolton said - Senior, looking at smooth movements of the daughter-in-law, which were previously compounded and unsure.
For some reason, Sansa gained confidence in himself, began to behave in a business, stopped lowering, and met the eyes of the interlocutors with Tolika pride and even stubbornness.
"I don't see the reason to be sad," pulling the chin by arrogantly, the girl began to eat - already pretty cooled and hard meat.
Ruse threw a misunderstood look at his son, at which Ramsi responded with an obscure movement of the head, following the example of his wife and take over the food.
"Well," Bolton pulled, measuring a strange couple with a look. "Once you both here, perhaps, I have to talk to you."
Sansa raised a slightly frightened look at the mother-in-law, desperately trying to figure out what he was going to talk about.
"It will be about your marriage," having met a misunderstood look, quickly answered Ruse. "About his fruits," he added, a little time.
Beautifully defined sonsu eyebrows soared up, and a piece of meat is stuck in the throat. Appetite immediately disappeared, and she visited a tough look into a man sitting on the contrary.
"Father," Ramsi's voice, creaky and unpleasant. - We work on this. - He stretched her lips in a smirk. - So, after all, dear wife? - Bolton - the younger turned his head to Sanas, giving her a stinging smile.
- Of course, dear hubby, - with the same stinging expression and voice, full of poison, answered him his wife, as if copying the behavior of her husband.
Ramsei from indignation and unexpectedly sharp response girl climbed the teeth and firmly clenched fists resting on his knees. Rage boiled in it with a new force. However, there was a wish to rage this and a passionate desire to possess this girl, such a proud and recall.
Ruse Bolton published barely noticeable laughs. He frankly fun intense atmosphere between young spouses.
"So nice," he said, rising and deciding to leave them alone. - We are waiting for your son! - He stated with enthusiasm, but on his words no one turned around: Sansa and Ramsey bored each other with views, not paying attention to the presence of someone third in the hall.
Ruse was a rather smart person to leave immediately and do not fit into the rewritten.
The slapped door would seem to be in feelings Sansu. She first looked away, making it rather the habit rather than as desired. Just did not want to look at the tough and arrogant face of the spouse. Probably, this atmosphere has reached not only Sansu - Bolton is also strained, for some reason, it is greedyly drawn the cool air.
The girl, using the renunciation of the spouse, staring at the table, tried to quietly rise from the table and leave the room. She already got up, without even srinking the old legs of the chair on the wooden floor, and it remained only to cheam in the doorway and hide behind a root door. And it seemed to be easier. But San's did not have time to hit the table, like the fingers of Ramsei, strong and fat, grabbed her skirt, pulling on themselves, why the girl lost her balance and fell, if it did not take himself on the edge of the table.
Having raised the question of her husband, she frowned, trying to preserve the proud expression, concomitant in the morning.
- Gathered somewhere, the wife? - the former Bastard squeezed, lifting a look at the spouse.
Sansa caught something unusual in his glance, but familiar to her. The sparkles of the danger, which Ramsey expressed, and the promise of pleasure from this danger. She first interrupted the thread that brought their views for a moment.
Though it was terribly wanted to try to experience the pleasure that Bolton opened his wife, but Sansa was even turned off, trying to pull the hem skirt from the chain fingers of Ramsi.
"I want to return to the room," I told the girl after a moment, leaving miserable attempts to free themselves.
However, her voice sounded not as convincing, as I would like. Therefore, he only grinned, but only her lips - his eyes did not change the extension to the grin.
- Why not stay here? - Ramsey said, finally dropping a fog to the fighter, who did not allow him to see a reality, and now he saw her: a little frightened, a little clenched, as if the awaiting strike.
"It's cold," she only talked to one lips, the sound did not break out of her chest.
Sansa froze in place, experiencing and horror, and confusion, and the desire at the same time. Only that's what it was for a desire: to run away from a hateful spouse or rush into his arms?
Ramsey, having fluttering a little, hurt the wife's skirt stronger, which made a girl to go ahead and practically fall to her knees to her husband. Sansian screamed, but rather from surprise than from fear.
- It can be fixed. "Threatens, but at the same time seductively, as Sanas seemed to be, Ramsey whispered.
He, cleverly picked up his wife, laid her on the table, after throwing off his dishes from him at such a moment. Sansa turned out to be pressed against the table with a strong body of Ramsi, feeling some embarrassment. Bolton, dumbedly spread her legs with his hand, quickly raised heavy skirts and began to unbutton the fasteners on the pants.
Everything was not the case, as Sansa imagined. Ramsey demanding a student to her lips with a kiss, cruel and merciless. I bite her lower lip in a couple of times, he rather lick blood, looking into his wife's eyes.
The fact that the most hit the Bolton in her glance was not frightened, did not tremble, did not feel fear of him. And for it, he desperately wanted to punish her, to make her hurt, break pride.
Execution of married debt never delivered Sanas pleasure. Ramsey has always been rude, his hands, corpus and housing, inaccurated and with the share of cruelty examined the young body of his wife, leaving no hidden marks on it - bruises and bloody wounds. But this time, even in spite of the pain that Bolton delivered to her with sharp movements, rude caresses, she did not cry, did not scream from pain, only patiently, confusing his teeth and fists so that the nails were dug into delicate skin of his palm, she was waiting While it will end.
And it ended. When Ramsey got his own, he, dealing with clothes and leaving his wife lying on the table, left the room.
Having gathered with the forces, she rose, straightened the dress, having shook off his invisible dirt - the dirt that Bolton left his touch to her body, and slowly shoved into his room to wait for the next sunset, another night, not carrying anything good.
Asking cooking a bath and satisfied with the execution of an order, Sansa plunged into hot water, hoping that it would help to wash off a disgust to her husband. But it did not help. Even when it got out of a massive wooden bath and looked into the sheet, it did not help to wash. To wash away from hatred. From the thirst for revenge. From fire burning inside her.
This fire, I thought Stark, did not foretell anything good. This fire could only cause one person - her spouse, hated and "desired." She could not even confess to themselves in these strange feelings. Could not figure them out. Could not pronounce it out loud. No, she did not like her husband, even experienced hostility to him, but this strange desire arose in her and grew up, as if fueling from hatred.
And this fire could not extinguish anything.

At this evening, Ruse Bolton decided to arrange a holiday: many representative families were invited, the musicians were invited to the new custodian of the North. Tables were broken from abundance of dishes.
Sansa, perhaps, saw something similar in the north only once: when the royal family came, when all her sorrows began. However, today's celebration was not her long-awaited joy.
She was sitting on the elevation, where it is customary to sit the owners of the house, next to her husband, his father and a fattened stepmother from pregnancy. Celebrately watching the dancing, the only desire of the girl was to return to the room and forget deep sleep. All this began to be pretty boring: the sugary smiles of guests, false compliments, pretended joy on the face of Ramsi.
She looked at her hands resting on his knees. Sansa crossed his fingers a tight fabric of an elegant dress, a single beautiful dress that was sewn to her especially for today's evening. Ramsey himself brought him into the room a couple of hours ago, where the wife, peacefully louncing on the bed after a warm bath, expected the servants. It was then that it happened that it became great pleasure: it was worth the Ramsey only to get closer to his wife, in order to again satisfy her thirst, as Bolton broke into the room - the eldest and led the Son with himself, the Obesting on urgent business. Now, remembering the failure of a husband, she smiled, making it as unnoticed for a sitting near Bolton.
Ramsey glanced at a satisfied with something to his wife, which one hour took a serious expression of the face and, askingfully raising beautifully outlined eyebrows, looked at him in response. Shooting nervously head, Ramsey took a glance, again returning it to his dot to his favorite - the corner of the hall, where the maid was calmly standing next to his father. Sansu hurt the neat mind of her husband. Now she desperately wanted to attract his attention, to become the only object of his observation, tear his eyes from the hated maid. She knew that it could cause her husband's discontent. But he will at least distract from the mistress. - I want to dance! - loud and sharply, sharp than planned, Santa said, rising from the chair.
Ramsey raised an in-off look at her.
- Sit! - He stuck, squeezing his fingers armrest.
- I want to dance! - even more clearly repeated the girl, proudly drawing his chin.
This attracted unnecessary attention to the guests, the hour is ready to see the scandal.
Bolton chuckled and rose, close to his wife.
- I said: Sit down in place! - From anger, his voice became more like a creak of a non-lubricated door.
She looked at his eyes with a challenge: solid intent To attract the attention of the husband began to roll on no, even though she tried to keep proudly.
"Okay," Ramsey surprisingly surrendered and shrugged, depicting ease. - Go! "He stretched out his hand, and she fearfully put her hand on her, following her husband to the center of the hall.
She began to experience fear - calm Ramsi scared it much more than evil. From anger at least you know what to wait.
Bolton Jr. slapped in his hands, and the center of the hall quickly empty - people diverged around, leaving a place to young spouses.
There were the first sounds of volts, a clockwork and bright, penetrating into the soul. Sansa was well trained to dance, but she never danced Volta. It was a southern dance, dance of passion and love, not suitable for this situation.
Ramsey, although he did not possess congenital talent to the dances and looked like a harsh bear, rushed through the waves of music and had already quickly entered the taste.
What kind of dance it was - not worth talking. Feeling the atmosphere of music, as if it was a fiery ball, which felt both, Sansa and Ramsey danced selflessly and, in truth, great. It really was a passion dance. Dance of love. Fire dance.
Lightweight hands of Sansa, sharp ramps of Ramsey, rapid turns, crackles, cotton. And glances, complete unbridled desire, languishing in them.
When the music was amended, they could not come to themselves for a long time. The fatsed and painted, they looked at each other with admiration and even with the tenderness not inherent in this pair.
Loud cotton rang out from all sides: guests were also amazed by this dance.
Ramsey moved closer to his wife, and Sansa felt his desire - a desire to possess her.
"I think," he said, having died, "we have one unfinished business."
Sanance did not have time to somehow respond to the words of the spouse, as he jerked her hand and dragged through the entire hall, wanting to retire somewhere away from annoying guests as soon as possible.
Hurricane flew into the bedroom, Bolton let go of his wife and began to close the doors to all the claps.
Scorn, Stark was surprised, since when, her hubby became so shy. Previously, he never thought that someone could enter the room. Taking advantage of the moment and absolutely insane thought that came to the red-haired head, Sansa instantly threw off the dress and comfortably ruled into bed, covered with a fur skin lying on the blanket.
To say that Ramsey was amazed - say nothing. He literally stopped in a stupor, glanced on his spouse. - Play again? "The former Bastard asked playfully, approaching the bed, like a predator to the victim he drove into the trap, although he was now the victim.
The victim of his own once intimidated wife. Victim of the Wolf.
Sansa nodded affirmatively - a fake smile never went with her face.
Bolton carefully looked at his wife's face, with tolika care.
- Be gentle. She asked her, and Molba flashed in her eyes. He stretched his lips in a crying smile.
- Only today. - She whispered Ramsey, carefully touching his wife's neck.
On the skin, the business ran the electric discharge.
Gentle, almost timid movements of the husband more and more surprised Sansu. It was warmed by her body in a frosty night, and the kisses did not bring pain - only pleasure.
When it all ended, Ramsey did not let the spouse from his arms for a long time, but she did not try to get out and run away, she was too tired. She didn't break away from burning pain. Therassi was next to her and wound on his finger Fireless Hair Sansues.
- Tomorrow everything will again be as always. - He said, slightly pulling her hair on himself, forcing them to pierce from pain.
- I know. - Opening his eyes and looking straight on him, said Stark.
It was in this glance something that made Ramsey to let her hair and put her head on the pillow.
He got out of bed, dressed and came out.
****
Ruse daily resembled Ramsi about the heir, these thoughts frozen the body of Sansa from the inside. These reminders influenced Ramsi. He began to attend Sansu about two or three times a day. Ramsey wanted the heir, but the pressure from the father only strained his nerves.
Misovered by his thoughts, Ramsey did not notice, as it turned out to be at the very doors of Sansua. To knock, he needed for a while. Behind the door was dead silence. He hit the blowing door too much. She did not locate from him.
"Why?" - thought the guy, entering the spacious gloomy chambers.
"I knew that you would come, so I left the door to open," the girl stood near the opened window, as if inhaling a blizzard, circling in the yard.
- You knew. Do you know everything, so?! - His voice broke. - So I waited for me? What for? You know that it would be more appropriate - to lock from me, and not wait for my arrival at the window! - He raised the desire with all their forces: to hit, beat to the loss of consciousness, melted, trample. But instead, he wanted to talk.

He came close to the turned away girl and closed the window.
- Close, Milady. Cook and die! How am I without the heir? - He took a deep breath, catching the smell of her hair. They smelled the north - the cold and free wind, which was hate him so much.
- Why don't you leave your chambers? I have such a feeling that I am married to the priest, and not on Lady Stark, - he smiled at the most soft of his smiles.

I do not want to appear in humans, - Sansa was coldly looked at the luminous couch in the fireplace.
- Because of me?
- Yes.
For the words of what she said, any other woman would kill without delay, whether the queen of Westeros herself. But he still wanted to talk.
- You shy me, Milady? - Ramsey lightly touched a soft red hair.
- No, just ...
Blind circles under the eyes of the girl, they spoke for themselves; She does not sleep, does not eat well and is very worried.
- And what if you make friends, Milady? - He looked at her wife carefully.
- make friends? With you?! - The girl smiled guardedly.
- Exactly. You - no longer scare people with their pinnacle, and I will become a good husband. All these idiotic walks riding, admoniming the dubious beauties of our edges, adoptions, pompous. Or what they usually do with their wives, respectable lords. Well, what can you say?
- And at night...
"And at night everything will be, like in humans." His voice tone marked noticeably not at the better.
- Suit as you wish, Milord-from despair said Santa. Sansa sat down on the window sill, tiredly dropping his head on the stuffed hands.
"Well, that's good, you are my sad," Bolton gently stroked his wife on his cheek. " - Let's start again, and there will look ...
The torment lasted for more than two months. And I was really not pregnant, and it was my only chance for mercy on the part of Ramsey.
He had a favorite from the courtyards, and only the old God remember as her name. With her, he disappeared during the day. They had common hobbies. Once from the maid, I heard that she had not yet got rid of her pregnancy. Apparently the bastards do not need bastards.
Days went. When the sheets already the second moon are not painted red, Santa still hopes. Fragile soulful equilibrium and shaky inner rod break on the part along with breakfast, taking out the outside, and a short pointer of Maister confirming her diagnosis. Stark begs the gods about the miscarriage and asks Lekary to say nothing to the legal spouse, because so "joyful" news she wants to convey Ramsi himself. Sansa diligently picks up words, but for now she comes out only to dream that during the next night visit Bolton will do something terrible and relieve it from his branches inside. But Ramsey unexpectedly gentlely the last couple of weeks and is absolutely not like himself.

Stark wants to play from its own helplessness, and in general from everything, ranging from favorite cakes and ending with their own tears. But she smiles a bastard-husband-Ramsey and begs the theon during rare meetings to steal the special grass from Maceer, which was read about in books until it's late. But the smelter only winds his head and whispers something incoherent. Then you have to pray for nothing to talk to Bolton. Sansa almost found a word, because there is nothing difficult to sign a death sentence with a postponement for nine months. Sometimes Stark recalls the words of Sernei and trying to make them with his motto, but it comes out silly and embarrassing - Sansa does not believe that he can love the Bolton fragmentary. The girl wants to die at birth with curses on the lips, not seeing the child, but Maister assures that she is the most healthy woman in labor, which Winterfelle saw. It is difficult to believe in these words - isn't healthy mothers pumped cheeks, and wrists are decorated with bruised bracelets? Do they lock them in the room and rape at night? Do they tell them how the butcher's daughter got out right on the psarn, and then promise to give her head? Is a happy future parent dream about death for himself and a child?

But, Sansa, of course, silent, does not ask extra questions and nods Maister, promising to drink all herbs that he registered it. Sansa finds words, walking from boredom in four walls. She needs to say them immediately and, and, be sure to aloud and rightly Ramsi in the face that she is taken to knock on the door and demand a husband. Immediately, otherwise she will personally remove the skin from the servant that he ignored her order. On the other side of the free world begins, and someone is being taken to convince her that Milord is busy.

Sansa is tragic and quite loudly playing the concert, hysteriate and loses the remnants of self-control, when the castle snaps and bastard-husband Ramsi comes into the room. Stark takes himself in hand, smiles as far as possible and reduces the distance between them to one step.

You wanted to see me, "Bolton shines and takes her hand, examining with an exaggerated interest bruise on the wrist.

Sansa understands that words, such important and correct, lost during empty threats and hysterics, and find them again will be not up to hell, if not impossible. Therefore, she simply dials in the chest more air, mentally apologizes in front of his family and exhales, as she wanted, Ramsey in the ear of the most important phrase in her life:

I am pregnant, Milord.

Sanas want to close his eyes, so as not to see a smile-grind her husband, but she makes himself watch, because it brings almost physical pain and disrupts consciousness, helping to preserve the mind.
Ramsey got up and approached Sanse. I am very happy, my cute spouse. Gods heard your prayers.
He kicked out the maid and kissed Sansu. This kiss did not foretell anything good. He deepened a kiss and began moving towards the stairs to our bedroom.
It was stupid to wait tenderness on our bed. But I had so pleasant feeling from how Ramysi punished the maiden that he tried to harm me and my child. I almost never felt the sexual temper of my husband. Apparently, the sick head of Bolton, this situation only excited.
When he was in me, he held me for the stomach. Hugged him.
I looked at him, read his face. His lips were relaxed only now and in a dream. They did not seem terrible, frightening. When he opened his eyes, I quickly adjoined him in a kiss. Blue eyes, they had such a sorrow ... only in them. The pregnancy of Lady Wold was now also a problem, she had to have to give birth, and for this could follow and the murder of Ramsi and, that was worse for changing his rights to the house of Bolton.
Once Ramsi spoke to me about something other than our intimacy. He expressed his fears. It turned out that Ruse put near our room to protect his people. The spouse described me in the details, how exactly he wants to kill his expensive stepmother. He did not wait for my advice, he shared dark thoughts. And his dark thoughts are the essence of Ramsi Snow, as he was born.
In one evening, he still heard my opinion. To my surprise, he listened.

I was already in the middle of my term when, how bitch was wald.
In recent days, Ramsey did not allow me to leave our chambers. At the time of birth of a new heir, my husband was in a big room. With the news to him came Ruse himself. Everything happened too soon and the body collapsed on the floor. I prayed to the old gods so that it was Rousse. In the window I saw Wold with a baby in my hands.
Forces left me. I can kill me and not born baby.
From the window he was heard from Lai dogs, women's cries and first crying, which quickly fell.

I rose to my feet and waited near the door. It seemed to me that he was not eternity. The door heard the noise and the lake was overlooked to me from under the oak door. Blood.
The door opened Ramsi, behind him there was a couple of his soldiers.

Lady Bolton, I want to call you for dinner.
- I should notify the northern houses about the unexpected death of my father, about traitors who poisoned him. Transfer the flame hello to Frey. And introduce yourself to all the world as Lord of the North. My lady, I would like to be shone at today's evening. Days flew like in the wind. I learned to find something pleasant even in Ramsi Bolton.
The way he looked at his advisers, the squire, the lords of other houses and how he looked at me. It disappeared his taller stupidity, the terrible laughter of the damn. His games in Tyography were replaced by the evenings with me. He spoke about Westeros events, consulted with me. When he was free from the deeds of the North, he spoke about our future heir. Now I felt that the boy would be born. Doves. The last weeks of pregnancy made my belly simply incredibly huge. By the beginning of 35 weeks, Ramsey took me with him all the meetings. I sat near him and there was not the slightest help from me, but he always kept my hand, as in my first morning on arrival in Winterfelle. With a strong danger, he firmly squeezed my palm, with good news he stroked her, with doubt it unpleasantly pulled me for the nail.

Ramsey Bolton became an open book for me. I was already accustomed to him, to his sharp actions, aggressive nature.
*****
Sent to the end of my last year of pregnancy.
Once at night I was in complete confidence that I was dying. I thought it was so losing my babies. Panic took up my feelings. I leaned off my blanket and tried to get up. I was stopped angry Bolton. He jerked me back on the bed and ordered the guard to call Maister. He had not yet moved away from sleep, he was so angry. Apparently he passed the course of the young father, he did everything in stages, without mistakes. He sent one maid behind a jug with hot water for her herbs. I was planted on the center of the bed, dropped off the blanket. When Meister himself came, Ramsey submissively gave the brethren's brars to him. Therassy left the room.
For me, everything was like in the fog, from a sharp pain in the stomach I could not think. Until the dawn, I was ordered to breathe deeply, and I so wanted to fall asleep. Each time with consciousness brought me Ramsey, he shouted to Maister, promised to remove the skin from it in case of an error. I kissed my hands, and again shouted, perhaps already on the servant.
It was very difficult to stay, I waited for something, but I could not remember what it was. I heard a cry, it was not Ramsi, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I heard Maister's speech:
-Plus boy. Black hair, father's damn features and only the color of the eyes was not blue, my son had gray eyes. I brought him Ramsi himself, proudly pronounced:
"Will be called William." Heir to Dradforth, Winterfella and the North. Greet your mom. He gently gave me my Raif. And I fell asleep to me in a kiss.

We will not dwell on one child. As many children as possible. My father had only one legative son, and what came out of it? The little Lord Bolton should have a dozen brothers and two dozen sisters. On his face appeared tricky. It's a word scared. I no longer wanted to give birth to him.
I looked at the child and smiled. Girl and was a small copy of Ramsey, he was beautiful. He stretched to my face, but suddenly he sharpened. The elderly nurse took the child from my hands. I was very tired, so I finally fell asleep. Therassi was pleased with the newborn heir, as in no way the boltons continue. Among the pleasant nights with him, there were such when his madness needed to go out. He hurt, bicked, hesitated and humiliated me. In those night, he reproached me for the escape from the royal harbor with the Miser, for communicating with Lord Arren, although he was a boy. Ramsey and favorite game, she was called "Wolf Hunt". In the parade hall showed the performance of the play, in which in all details they talked about the death of a robb at the wedding of Lord Tallie and the girls of Frey. The final scene followed a married bed, and there, my husband performed his role. It was a terrible part of our life. Well, that she came to the end. After William, Eric and Santa were born. We need to give Ramsey due, the children did not recognize about what he was with me alone. He brought up respect and love to me in them. When the monster was silent in him, he was quite a demolished spouse. I had the need to kiss him, know that he was near. It is better to endure a few hours of torture than to live in fear for the life of your children and yourself.
Several times a year we had to leave for the dreadnut. I was always there not on my own, but one of my children would rule there, and by this time the castle should still belong to Ramsi. In this joyless journey, children have always been with us, the protection of even all Westeros Lord Bolton did not trust Lord. Only next to him we were safe.

I will never love Ramsi Bolton. I never distribute our children ...