Sticks and Stones

Chapter Eleven

Sticks and Stones

Ramsay's happiness felt short lived as he strode away from the study with his hard on aching in his pants. It had started to deflate as they walked, but the fire she'd stoked within him was certainly not going anywhere. The thought of waiting to cum until after he'd healed, and more so until she was inside of him was more than a little vexing to contemplate.

He'd already decided after having been worked up a few times by her already that he'd not be able to be that patient, and what she didn't know… well, knocking one off in private would help alleviate some stress as well as stave off the inevitable. He had no plans of giving Sansa a green light in that regard even though he knew that she wouldn't likely hold out for too long once she had decided he was healed well enough to use her toy on him. That was a bridge he'd have to cross at a later date, but for now Ramsay would take comfort in the fact he at least would have a few days of rest without worry of getting taken in that way.

The guards were silent on the march back, and it wasn't until they'd reached the dungeon did they begin to converse amongst themselves. The one starting the conversation, a tall brutish ogre with a sloped forehead and a set of horrible gnarly teeth, seemed content in the fact that they were out of earshot of any that might hear them as he spat derisively, "I don't know what that little shit's got going for him, but he's gettin' off too easy for everything he's done."

Ramsay stiffened as his jaw worked in irritation to have to listen to these men berate him once more. He had a feeling that they planned to harass him plenty from the way they glared daggers at him having already mocked him on their way from the dungeon to meet up with Sansa. They weren't indifferent like most of the guards seemed to regard him, and instead they had shown that they wholly didn't like him. Being that they were his jailers, Ramsay didn't have much in the way of deterring the bullying, so in an effort to avoid further conflict, he simply continued into the dungeon doing his best to ignore them. Ramsay took in a seething breath telling himself that he just had to hold his tongue long enough for them to chain him to the mattress, and then they would leave him in peace.

The other guard, of average height but stalky with a nose and chubby cheeks that reminded Ramsay of a fattened hog, just grunted in annoyance, "Yeah, tell me about it. I liked it better when she was treating him the way he deserves not playing dress up and house. Giving that fuck any bit of reward seems a waste of good food and wine. If it were up to me he'd be eating moldy scraps off the floor on his hands and knees."

"It was quite a show though," the other man bellowed to his companion as he hulked forward over to Ramsay giving his shoulder a shove to make him stumble towards his mattress, "Like a little show pony you are! What do ya think Reginald? Does he trot well?" A chortled laugh heehawed out of the beefy man's throat in obvious self-amusement, "I almost wanted ta take my own cock out and rub it a go to watch you prance about pleasing Lady Stark! I can't say I don't mind the view!"

Enough was enough, and Ramsay couldn't still his tongue any longer as his simmering anger became volatile enough that it needed an outlet; he spun on his heel to glare at the man a moment before standing up straight, a playful smirk playing across his face, "What? Are you upset that I've gotten the lady's attention where she hardly acknowledges you? Even in my current state, I hold more value to her than you do. That doesn't settle well with you two does it? That a view is about all you'll ever get the pleasure of seeing of her."

The man's eyes flared as he lunged forward and Reginald stuck out a stiff arm to halt him, "Take it easy Jove; don't let this cunt get the best of you. He's trying to get a rile out of you, but we both know better," a malicious grin grew across Reginald's face, "We may not have the lady's eye, but you forget boy, I saw what she's done to you already, and I know what you've got to look forward to. Us nobody's? Well, we might not get a bit of the lady other than a view, but we'll still be watching you take it like a whore day in and day out."

The smirk that had been on Ramsay's face slowly sank into a twitching scowl. It was true, they'd seen his anguish and his shame, and even if they hadn't been one of the ones that had been actively involved with his humiliation, they had been present much of the time as trusted chaperones to Sansa. They'd seen her naked as he had (which even though them seeing her naked was of no choice Ramsay had to weigh in on, it still sparked a flare of jealously within him), and they'd also seen him get gang raped until he'd cried brokenly in their presence.

The reminder of this as well as the fact Reginald's words rang of truth that they would more than likely be present when she fucked him again filled Ramsay with an incomprehensible rage. Unable to stave off a reaction to the man's insult of not only himself but Sansa, Ramsay jolted forward and threw an impassioned right hook into Reginald's jaw followed by a flurry of swings to Reginald's face that were cut short as Jove slammed a meaty hand powerfully into his sternum causing Ramsay to fly backward and fall onto his mattress with an audible, "Oaf!"

"Oh now ya done it!" Jove recoiled pulling a short sword from its sheath at his side and brandishing it in an arch planning to cut Ramsay down then and there.

Ramsay's eyes widened in surprise as he threw an arm up instinctually and braced himself against the mattress having no other recourse to deflect the sudden coming blow.

Before Jove could react fully, Reginald surged forward grabbing Jove's shoulder to hold him from advancing further, "No! You can't! Lady Stark's orders were not to hurt him unless necessary and certainly not to kill him!"

Jove growled in clear irritation indignantly replacing his sword and snatching Ramsay by the boot heel to yank him closer to the two of them before snaking his huge hand around Ramsay's neck to hold him firm against the mattress. His anger was still quite evident as he growled through gritted teeth, "Little shit already should have bled out in the courtyard where he first got took down. Shoulda pinned him up and flayed em' alive like his kin was so fond a doing!"

Ramsay wheezed out through strangled gasps of air, "Would …that you could… ingrate… but, you haven't got …the privilege," he gave Jove the cockiest smile he could muster which only seemed to make Jove grip his throat a little tighter. Ramsay's eyes fluttered as his vision went hazy choking for air under the powerful man's crushing grip on his windpipe. Even so, he managed to give the man a weakened chuckle to hear that Lady Sansa ordered he not be harmed. That was quite convenient, and it gave Ramsay a small amount of gratification to know how impotent it made these men against him.

As the loss of oxygen started to cause him to lose consciousness from Jove suffocating him, Ramsay began kicking violently. Reginald tugged Jove off of Ramsay, and the monster of a man finally released him with a snort of disgust leaving Ramsay to rapidly suck in air and cough with a hand clasped at his throat. His coughs trickled into a strained laugh as he stared up at the two guards with a gleeful malicious smile relishing the fact that they couldn't really do anything to him.

"Guard!" Reginald yelled out loudly, the sound of his bellow echoing across the expanse of the room as he massaged his chin leveling an embittered glower at Ramsay. It only lasted a moment before that same spiteful smile he'd afforded Ramsay earlier split his busted lips. Reginald's tongue flicked over the fresh cut that oozed blood to trickle into his mouth, and he spat it on the floor nodding at Ramsay, "That's right, laugh it up bastard. I don't think Lady Sansa is going to be laughing when she hears how you attacked me. I think it's not going to bode well for you at all actually," he gave Jove a meaningful glance, and the other man rumbled out a building sinister snicker denoting they were both on the same page.

The laughter died in his throat instantly as Ramsay imagined Sansa's disapproval and what that disapproval might bring. Reginald's words sank into his gut like a rock as he stared up in speechless wonder at the two men his eyes shifting over to the mess he'd made of the other man's face. To look at his handiwork now and the implications it held made Ramsay's blood run cold.

The sound of heavy footfall came from outside the dungeon as the door smashed open to reveal the man that had heard Reginald's call. He was an overweight young man in his early twenties heaving in gasps of air from the strain of being out of shape and running across the castle proper. He leaned his hand against the dungeon door's frame after it was made clear the situation seemed under control, he sighed in relief his form bowing in an effort to catch his breath. The man exclaimed in a huff of both curiosity to know what was going on and annoyance that he'd felt the need to run when there apparently was no real emergency, "What is it?"

Jove scowled at the newcomer nodding toward Reginald, "Just look what that little shit done ta Reginald would ya? Rouse the lady of the house, and alert her that her pet bastard has gone savage."

Ramsay's brow was furrowed, and his mouth hung open in shock as he shook his head vehemently, "No! This is a trick!" He spat resentfully eyes flaring as he tried in vain to get up only to get shoved back down again followed by a menacing glare from Reginald. Ramsay's face blazed with contempt as he sneered, "You meant to bait me! I'll tell her as much!" He did his best to portray fury, but inwardly, the only thing running through Ramsay's mind was a worry that Sansa wasn't going to believe him.

The heavyset youth blinked seeming unsure until Jove barked viciously, "Well? What are ya waiting for! Go fetch Lady Sansa! She was last seen in her study! Be quick about it!" Snapping out of his indecision, the man stutter stepped backward nodding vigorously before he hurried off to fulfill Jove's command.

Ramsay snarled attempting twice more to remove himself from the mattress only to get just as readily thrown back down upon it. He wished he'd had something he could use as a weapon, but it was useless to even try to oppose these men. Not only were they both now flanking either side of him, but they were standing at the ready with all intentions of not allowing him to rise again. What would he do if he did manage to defeat them? Ramsay thought sullenly as his rage started to abate and the very real threat of consequence began to bear down upon him. Even though these men had provoked him, the fact that he was unscathed and Reginald wasn't meant Sansa was very likely going to punish him.

Brooding now, Ramsay grew quietly still as he stared hard at the floor; a sense of powerlessness overtook him to realize he was incapable of stopping the tide he'd set in motion by reacting at all. He'd told himself to ride out their insults, but they'd made him so livid! They didn't have the right to look down on him, useless wastes that they were, and yet here he was awaiting judgement for defending himself against their supposed merit.

Reginald and Jove disregarded Ramsay now continuing to exchange short pleasantries about going out to have a good time at the Wildling camps (apparently they had moonshine unlike any other and were more than willing to share it with these men. Why Ramsay had no idea, heathen idiots that they were, but then, these were Wildlings they were commenting about and most assuredly of the same mental capacity Ramsay decided offhandedly.) Hearing enough, Ramsay tuned them out into no more than white noise; he had bigger problems now, and listening to them prattle on had caused him enough trouble already. He needed to refocus and prepare himself to face Sansa.

Long minutes ticked by, and finally Sansa did arrive. Ramsay glanced up to take in her presence, noticing concern on her face as she looked about the room and its occupants. As she took in the damage to Reginald's face, her expression grew stony eyes flashing heatedly back over to Ramsay as she came to a stop in front of him, "What's the meaning of this, Ramsay?"

He'd prepared an explanation in what he thought were eloquent words, but as Ramsay now stared up at her to see her fury, it was as if his mind shut down blacking out his reason. Ramsay opened his mouth to speak, and it hung open a moment before he closed it in a thin line his eyes darting back and forth aiming his venom at each guard individually to muster his resolve before staring back up to Sansa earnestly, "It's not what it seems, Lady Sansa! They mocked and ridiculed me, so I acted on my own account. My honor demanded it!"

Sansa's eyes narrowed, "Your honor?" The words were said with an unbelieving tone that made Ramsay wince at the implication. He tightened his jaw listening as she continued flatly, "So you're telling me that you hit this man for calling you names? You bloodied his face, not over something deemed as life threatening to your person, but simple words that riled your pride?"

It wasn't hard to tell that he'd disappointed her. Ramsay grimaced, his eyes dropping to the floor as a ripple of fear coursed through him. He was deathly afraid of what she might do to him now and began to tremble in remembered fear. Ramsay hated that he couldn't help the immediacy of these unbidden feelings assailing him like whiplash.

She was waiting for a response, and Ramsay ran a hand through his hair in his nervousness before finally nodding in affirmation as he stared up at her with all seriousness, "Yes… I did." If he was going to be punished, Ramsay thought he'd at least get a small jab in, "I'm not in the habit of suffering taunting without recourse especially coming from lowborn commoners such as these men." The jeer had its intended affect causing both men at his sides to visibly bristle in an obvious want to counter his words or throttle him. They remained still though, respectively silent in their lady's presence knowing she had the floor now, but the annoyance on their faces was well observed.

Sansa had taken note of the barb Ramsay threw at her guards out of spite, but she didn't choose to address it at the moment. Ramsay would be facing her ire shortly, and although he wasn't aware of it now, he would be well aware later how such a comment would cost him.

She didn't like the idea of these men harassing Ramsay, and taking in their smug anticipation upon her arrival, she had reason to believe Ramsay was telling the truth. But, she couldn't have Ramsay lashing out physically whenever he lost his temper. His ferocity was already well renowned as well as his propensity for violence. It had to be nipped in the bud indisputably.

His hostility was something Sansa could not and would not tolerate from him not only because it brought him closer to the old Ramsay she despised, but because such prideful actions would eventually get the man killed if he provoked the wrong person now that he was considered a prisoner and not a lord. She took a step back regarding him coolly, "Come here, Ramsay."

Ramsay found himself slowly sliding off of the mattress as he wove his hands to clasp together in his trepidation. His palms felt clammy, and a wave of prickled numbness washed over him as he complied with Sansa's request. His guts twisted sickeningly as he approached her; he was terrified, but he did not beg for her forgiveness to try to save himself from whatever possible fate he would be made to endure or at least lessen its harshness. His dignity wouldn't allow him to debase himself like that especially in front of these men watching him now.

Unlike previously, Ramsay was not deluded that he'd walk away from this encounter with his ego intact. In fact, he was more than sure by the time all was said and done he would be pleading for forbearance as he'd done every other time Sansa had deemed to discipline him. It was another humiliation he would have to bear, but until that weakness was torn from him, he'd not give in to such pandering. Even so, Ramsay no longer fought Sansa; he'd moved past that to the point of regretful acceptance as he stood head bowed before her.

Sansa watched his advance noting his body language held no resistance to her; she should be wary of him, but strangely, she wasn't. As she refocused to remove his clasps and adornments, she sensed that he would bend to her will readily by the posture he granted her. She unbuttoned his cuffs guiding him gently to turn around as she then released the clips going up his neck to loosen the fabric enough for Ramsay to undress. "I need you to take off your clothes now, Ramsay," she commanded gently, and he silently obeyed.

Sansa glanced up to see the two guards were watching them with more than a little interest. Their smiles gave way to a sadistic joy of anxiously awaiting to see what she would do to him; they would see nothing she quickly decided giving them an impassive stare. These men would never be allowed to guard Ramsay again, and in fact by night's end, they would be sent to the castle wall as lookouts to bore the cold of the harsh winter, their intended new detail, Sansa elected.

Ramsay discarded the finery to the floor as he once again found himself naked staring ahead at that dreaded mattress, a sharp pang of despair filled him, and his eyes glazed over from the intensity of the emotions he now felt. He swallowed hard clenching both his fists and his jaw although not in anger but anticipation.

Ramsay's eyes darted through fallen bangs to look at her as Sansa casually strode to pick his clothing up off the floor and toss the set onto her chair. She turned to face him her face reflecting that she would broker no nonsense as she stated, "Please climb onto your mattress face down and place your hands and feet in position to be chained to your bed."

His lip twisted in misery unable not to feel sorry for himself as he lurched forward like a dead weight tentatively climbing onto his bed and prostrating himself. His body flexed rigidly, but Ramsay nonetheless splayed himself spread eagle to be chained as Sansa had wished of him. He wanted to refuse or offer some form of resistance, but Ramsay found all the fight had already drained from him the moment she entered the chamber.

Before either guard could take action, Sansa had already stepped forward to begin clasping the irons on Ramsay herself. Once the cuffs had been placed, Sansa straightened regarding the two guards who had stepped back to lazily ogle the scene, "Your assistance is no longer required. I've secured Ramsay to the bed, and I'd like to continue our meeting in private."

Jove and Reginald shared a look of surprise having not expected such a turn of events. Reginald took a step towards Sansa, "Lady Stark, I… I don't know if it's in your best interest to be secluded with the prisoner. He's a dangerous man after all."

Sansa lifted her brow, "How dangerous can a man be chained to his bed as Ramsay is now? I appreciate your concern gentlemen, but I'm quite sure I'll be fine. Please see your way out." Her words held a spike of frigidness, and her eyes were antagonistic stating clearly that the conversation was over.

The two men were momentarily bewildered but bowed and quickly exited without further word; she could tell by the looks on their faces as they left that they were frustrated by her sudden choice to oust them from the spectacle. Good, let them be, Sansa thought incensed by their behavior.

It surprised Ramsay by the way Sansa had grasped his limbs to chain him swiftly to his mattress, and in truth, it had made a tremor of fear shoot through him thinking her eager to punish him. Now, Ramsay realized as he lifted his head to watch Sansa send the guards away, it was because she was instead keen to get rid of them. His heart swelled anew for her to make a point not have those men present any longer. He could tell from the manner in which she'd spoken to them that she didn't like them; Ramsay recognized from their parlay on the battlefield the same clipped tone conveying an underlying fury not to be underestimated. It was reassuring that although her manner with him could still be strict, her words didn't carry the same hostility they once did; Ramsay was relieved they did not.

Sansa waited until they were gone a long moment before glancing back over her shoulder at Ramsay to see him staring at her worriedly. He should be worried; Sansa took in a deep breath before turning back towards the door and walking out of the dungeon briskly.

Ramsay blinked in surprise wondering if that would be all he was set to endure. But, as the minutes ticked by, Ramsay reflected on Sansa's demeanor. From the look on Sansa's face when she'd flicked her eyes in his direction to linger on him impassively without a word said, Ramsay was more than sure that she would indeed be back. It was then that Ramsay began to truly grow apprehensive.