Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines (Completed)

Bolton!Reader - Praying

A/N - This chapter is very loosely based on the lyrics to 'Praying' by Kesha. I'm not certain that I haven't used it before for inspiration but I'm damn well hoping I haven't.

"Sit up straight." The voice bit through the almost silent room, causing you to jolt upright in your seat, clenching your eyes shut as you calmed yourself.

"I'm sorry, Father. I thought I was alone," you answered softly, reopening your eyes and glancing at the book in front of you.

"No man will marry you if you spend your days filling your head with useless knowledge," he growled, stalking around the table and glaring at you until you got to your feet. Once you were standing he seated himself in the spot opposite yours, his eyes never leaving you.

"Am I to join you for tea this afternoon?" you asked, attempting to keep your annoyance buried.

He shook his head, finally allowing his eyes to drop from you as he looked over at the door. "My Wife will be joining me today," he murmured, making your eyes drift to where the woman stood before he waved his hand to usher you away. You didn't hesitate before gathering up the book from the table, wasting no time as you all but skipped from the room, giving your father's wife a smile as you dashed past her.

You had almost made it back to your chambers before you ran into Ramsay's chest, stumbling a little and catching yourself with a hand to the wall. "What's got you so cheerful?" he hummed, holding out his hand to take the book from you as another small smile danced onto your lips.

"Father is dining with his Lady Wife this evening, so I am free to roam as I see fit," you exclaimed softly, as you thrust the book into his hands allowing him to walk alongside you.

"I don't see why you bother dining with him so often; he's a tedious man." You hushed Ramsay, tutting as you continued on your journey, pushing open the door to your chambers and ushering him inside.

"He's still our Father, and no one should have to dine alone, it is why I ask you to join us so often." Ramsay scoffed at your words before dumping the book on the table, sitting down and slamming his legs down beside the worn pages.

"You're scared of him," he informed you and you scoffed before swatting at his boots.

"Feet off the table," you scolded him before sitting down opposite him.

Ramsay shook his head, allowing his feet to meet the floor once more. "I don't see why you're afraid of him. It's not like he could do anything to you, you're to marry a Stark," he told you and you quirked a brow at him.

"I'm not afraid of our Father," you started, halting when he began to chuckle.

"You're a terrible liar too, sometimes I wonder if we're even related," he teased with a smirk, causing you to shake your head at him. "Let me guess," he began again, his voice lower as he leant forward to lean his elbows on his knees. "He tells you that you'll never be good enough, in spite of all of your attempts to please him."

You nodded slightly, scrunching up your face in confusion as you watched him shake his head in disgust. "Has he spoken with you?" you asked him softly and he continued to shake his head.

"No, but old men never change their ways," he answered you, his voice the softest it had been for some time.

You let out a deep sigh. "So he's always been this cruel. Lucky Walda," you muttered lightly, causing him to let out a dark chuckle from deep in his chest.

*Time Skip*

"This is the final straw," your father roared, gripping your wrist and dragging you out of your seat.