Dancing With Our Hands Tied // Jon Snow

9. Control

When Trina had gotten to Winterfell to marry Ramsay, he was sweet, he was handsome, he was a legitimized bastard son of Roose Bolton.

Trina soon saw that Ramsay was good at acting. Faking smiles. Then he had Theon, the boy she grew up with, the boy that at the time she thought had murdered both her brothers walk her down the aisle. 

Power play. To show that he was in charge. That he had total control. This was her home but she was not in charge. There was no cake, there were no smiles, Sansa locked herself in her chambers and covered her ears, hiding under the covers as she heard Trina's screams and whimpers. Ramsay had taken Robb's room. Trina still hadnt been able to go in there. She felt the loss of Walder Frey killing Robb and her mother, and the perpetual pain of his grip on her. 

Tyrion never hurt her. Never touched her besides a quick kiss a handful of times. Ramsay though, he brought Theon in after their ceremony and had him watch as Ramsay raped her. He stripped her, ripping her clothes from her body. His hand gripped her hair pulling her head back to the point she thought her neck would snap. She had bruises on her arms, her neck, everything hurt.

He didnt care for her cries, or her pleas, he enjoyed her pain. He enjoyed her fear. He seemed to thrive on it. When Trina and Sansa got to the wall, got to Jon, Trina remembered that feeling of safety. That feeling of home when Jon hugged her. As though he would protect her from everything and anyone. She remembered telling Jon what happened when he touched the bruises fading on her neck. She could still that look of fury in his eyes, he wanted to kill Ramsay for what he had done to Trina. Jon had held onto her all night as she cried herself to sleep in his arms. 

Trina remembered screaming out to Ramsay that he was going to die. She could still see Rickon's face, he wasnt a little boy, he was a young man, she saw him running, sprinting to them, as Jon rode as fast as he could to get to him. To save him. But Ramsay was cruel. 

Trina had washed the blood, Rickon's blood from Jon's hands as his hands shook. She told him it wasnt his fault but Jon blamed himself. If he hadnt gone to the wall, if he was there for them maybe none of this would have happened. Trina kissed his forehead leaning into him. She kept repeating it's not your fault, you are a good man, it's not your fault, father would be proud, all night long.

When they took the castle, took winterfell back, when Jon beat Ramsay over and over again, for all the pain Ramsay and the boltons caused. All the pain Ramsay put Trina through. 

Ramsay had finally accepted Jon's offer to a one-on-one duel, while wielding a bow and arrow, he began firing immediately at Jon.

Jon stepped forward grabbing a nearby shield, Jon skillfully blocked all of Ramsay's shots with it, Jon getting closer with every step until he was close enough to smack the bow out of Ramsay's hands and hit him to the ground, once down ramsay pleaded but Jon furiously punched Ramsay's face into a bloody pulp. He panted for breath as Jon stood up.

'cant finish?' ramsay wheezed.

'the kill is not for me.' Jon corrected he looked back to Trina. 'if you want to that is.' Jon added. 

"I want it." Trina agreed as Ramsay was dragged away. She held tight to Jon, she had never felt more safe than with him. 

Then Ramsay begged for his life as Trina traced the blade against his skin. Bolton's flayed men, because naked men hold few secrets but a flayed man holds none. Trina was flaying him. Peeling his skin away. Showing him just a taste of the torment that he put others through. Only he wouldnt have to live with the trauma, live with the pain. 

"Stop Katrina, you are scaring me, you're hurting me." Ramsay whimpered.  

"God damn right you should be scared of me." Trina had shouted back. She had walked back to the castle, Ramsay's blood splattered all over her, his body being feasted on by his own hounds. She had seen Jon and he brought her to her room, drew her a bath and wiped away the blood from her skin, every shaky breath a little bit stronger as the water around her grew bloodier.