"Are you cold, Reek?"

Ramsay walks calmly across the room, back and forth. Pacing.

Reek sits in the chair, shivering violently. His hair is wet, his clothes are wet. Bits of ice still cling to his shoes.

"Myranda meant a great deal to me," Ramsay says wistfully, clasping his hands together. "But I can forgive you for killing her. She was occupying a lot of my time, and as future Warden of the North, I can not afford any distractions." He pauses, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and biting it with his top teeth. He casts a glance in Reek's direction, but Reek's eyes remain fixed on the floor.

"My wife, however... Sansa," Ramsay notes with approval how Reek spasms at the mention of her name. He goes on. "Throwing her over the walls of her own city. Now that is something to be ashamed of. And to let her drag you over with her!" His black hair swishes as he shakes his head. "Disgraceful."

Reek's hands clinch. He can still feel Sansa's touch. How willing she had been to follow him. How much she had believed in him. How much trust she had for him... Enough to jump holding his hand. He opens his mouth to speak, but nonsense comes out, marred by trepidation.

"I...I d-d-d-"

"What was that, Reek?" Ramsay closes in, his eyes cased in shadow. He leans over so that his eyes meet the eyes of his creature. He sweeps his gaze down at Reek's jagged and bloody leg, which had broken in the fall, then raises his eyes back to the other's. "Were you going to say something?" He asks darkly.

Reek makes a choking, gurling sound, eyes full of tears. Ramsay smirks.

"I think you were jealous. Is that it, Reek? Was I not giving you enough attention? Well, you've definitely caught my attention now." He straightens up, placing his hands on his hips. He surveys the room as if surveying a conquered battlefield. His eyes come to rest once more on Reek, and he takes a deep breath and sighs it out.

"You've been very naughty, Reek." Ramsay's eyes sparkle with a sick delight. "I will make up some excuse to spare you from my father, but from now on, you shall have all my attention. You will be at my side no matter if I'm having breakfast or taking a shit. You will not leave my sight." He waits for a response from Reek, which comes in the form of a couple weak coughs. "Starting now." Ramsay adds. "Come, I've had the servants draw you a bath. It should be cool enough by now."

Ramsay holds out his hand to Reek just a few inches from his face. Reek hesitates, the blood cold in his veins, his heart racing like mad. Ramsay waits patiently. As if resigned to his fate, Reek blinks back his tears and takes Ramsay's hand.

Ramsay pulls him to his feet and, supporting most of his weight, leads Reek away to the bathing room. Little red drops of blood create a trail back to the chair where bits of snow gather by the chair's legs, turning into cold puddles.