Game Of Thrones • Oneshots And Preferences And Such

Mystery • Ramsay x [Reader]

The marketplace was bustling with life, which was usual for this time of day. It was almost noon, and people were out and about. Actually, it was rather crowded. With a small smile, you paid for your few pieces of fruit and left the stall. You tucked them into your satchel and secured it, then carefully pushed your way through the crowd. Just as you were about to leave the marketplace, you felt something slip against your side briefly. You turned on your heel just in time to see someone rushing through the crowd, a familiar-looking knife in their hand.

"Aye! That's mine!" You rushed back the way you came, chasing after the thief. People kept getting in your way, resulting with you pushing them aside. You tried not to be too rough, but you couldn't allow the thief to leave your sight. That knife was very special to you, a gift from your now-deceased father.

As you began closing in on the thief, a few people crossed in front of you. You tried moving them, but that only caused them to scold you. After apologizing thoroughly you were able to get past them, but the thief was nowhere in sight.

"L-Lord Ramsay!"

Your head snapped in the direction of the yelling person; standing there was the thief, but also the familiar bastard of Roose Bolton. In his hand was your knife, which he was looking at with a bored expression.

"This doesn't belong to you, now does it?" He ran his fingers over the blade, and a smirk lit up his features. "Interesting! I haven't seen this design in a while."

The thief began backing away from Ramsay when he twirled the knife skillfully; however, he was grabbed roughly by two Bolton Guards.

"Thieves aren't very much liked here." He sighed as he leaned in close to the cowering man.

"P-Please, m'lord! It won't happen again!" The man begged, but Ramsay only seemed to find enjoyment in his misery.

Suddenly, Ramsay's gaze clashed with yours.

"You. I recognise you." He gestured for you to come closer, so you did. "This is yours, isn't it?" When you nodded, he grinned. "Fantastic!"

The thief looked at you with tears streaming down his cheeks, his fear unavoidably evident.

"I'm sorry! P-Please, forgive me!"

Ramsay ignored the man's pleading and handed you your knife, then his expression went stoic.

"The price of thievery is three fingers." He gestured for the guards to drag him over to the stables, where there was a stump with an ax upon it. The man's right hand was held down on the stump; he was crying and begging for mercy, but Ramsay simply ignored him. You cringed as he raised the ax and swiftly brought it down, cleanly severing three fingers. Blood spilled from the man's hand, which he was clutching to his chest as guards dragged him away.

"Sorry about that, m'lady." Ramsay approached you with a grin on his face and a strange look in his eyes; he was wiping blood off of his hand with a small cloth.

"Thank you, Lord Ramsay." You bowed your head respectively and showed a small smile. "I'm just glad to have my knife back."

"Of course you are." He chuckled, then suddenly grabbed your hand and brought you with him. This sent several questions racing through your head, such as Where is he bringing me?

"M'lord?" You had heard several rumors about Ramsay, such as him hunting people, and flaying people alive. However, with the kindness he was showing you, you weren't sure those could be true.

"Hush." He pulled you a bit harder, causing you to nearly trip. You were confused as to what he was doing, until you saw your home in the distance. You two stopped walking once he reached your small home, and he turned to face you with a smile upon his face.

"Thank you, Lord Ramsay." You bowed your head. "But... How did you know where I lived?"

Unexpectedly, he raised a finger to your lips as if to quiet you.

"It's a secret."