Warning: from this chapter forth strong language, violent and explicit content, if you are sensible to this things, please, do not read on.
As always I dedicate this chapter to my lovely reviewers, I love you.

As she wobbled down the stairs a feeling of uneasiness spread in her stomach, she felt like someone was pushing her, but behind her back only shadows met her eye.
The silence was unbearable, the heels of her shoes wouldn't dare emit sound as she walked on the stone floor. Everything around her felt eerie.
She glanced around, but darkness was all she could see. Chills ran down her spine, almost like a breeze had touched her, but her body couldn't feel any cold.
The same invisible force was now pushing her forward and forward and forward, as her dizzy mind frantically tried to gather some clues on her location.
She wasn't at Woodsteep for nothing there was that dark and gloomy, but it didn't look like the familiar Winterfell neither. She stopped dead in her tracks as bile rose to her throat, she had only been to three castles her entire life: Woodsteep, Winterfell and…
Annalys opened her mouth to scream, but no sound escaped her lips, she turned around ready to sprint up the stairs, but the unseen energy forbade her. She wobbled forward, awaiting the sight of the dreaded cell door that, seconds later, appeared right in front of her eyes.
With a loud creak escaping its rusty joints the door opened, almost as if it was inviting her in.
The surrounding silence became even more suffocating, her lungs tightened as she met the terrifying familiar back. She couldn't see it, but knew what stood behind it – a cross, a victim and blood. She took deep breaths, breaths that should've been noisy but didn't emit any sound, the air not enough to reach her organs.
Her legs moved forward, towards the figure, ears now ringing loudly.
The man moved out of her way of sight, his back still turned to her.
It took all of Annalys' might not to run away at the sight before her. Her mauled body, her sloppily cut hair, her own blood splattered all over the floor and herself.
The thing on the cross, that faintly resembled her, wasn't moving, it wasn't breathing, chest not raising up and down. The skin, pale as a ghost, was adorned by scarlet liquid – the only jolt of color on the entire frame.
As the lady's gaze travelled to the Thing's hands tied up to the two extremities of the cross, she finally understood where all of the blood came from. The skin on both of the wrists had been sliced, a shaky cut now adorning the pale arms.
Blood was still dripping down on the floor, producing a tickling noise, and as she stared at the drops of blood, fixated, she eerily realized she could finally hear again.
The room started spinning as sounds started to fill it, she heard herself scream at the top of her lungs.
Her little strength finally giving in as she crumbled to the ground, throat tightening painfully. She stayed there, the dripping noise going back to being the only sound the room.
She couldn't help but stare at the cuts in her arms, one persistent thought flooding her mind.
This does not resemble Ramsay's work.
Trembling, she turned to the mysterious figure. A slightly hunched down fetid creature met her gaze, it held a bloody kitchen knife and a faint smirk on its face.
"Theon" she managed to get out, her head turning confusingly from the dead body to him "Why?".
Hers was more than a question, it was a cry of defeat.
"Why?" he repeated, with a few fingers missing from his right hand he failed to hold the knife right, the utensil threatening to slip from his grip.
"Why did you do this to me?" her voice had turned to a whisper, tears running down her cheeks.
"Why did you do this to me?" his voice, as faint as hers, dripping with spite.
"Theon, I did not kill you" she shot forward on the floor, her shaking hands reaching for his arms, her devastated eyes searching for his.
"Yes" he hissed "You did".

Her body shot up from the bed, the covers attached to her sweaty body.
She stared forward, no trace of emotion in her eyes.
There had been a time in which nightmares of this kind would have shaken her deep to her core, but those times were no more: her tears had somehow run dry, her mind had somehow shut itself to her distress, her bones, limbs and hands were not shaking anymore. It was just as if everything within her had turned to stone. As she accepted that her nights would become sleepless once again, her lips opened to sing her mother's tender lullaby. By the time her handmaidens silently stormed in her room, the lady had already dressed herself and was now calmly napping on the bed, curled up in a ball.
"I am truly worried, Reila" said the red-haired woman, as the two shared knowing looks. She rested the tray of foods over the only table in the room and turned to her best friend who was quietly cleaning the room.
"I am too, but we cannot interfere with her life" they both looked at their lady, Cerlina shot forward, and hand slightly shaking the brunette's body.
Annalys jolted upwards, eyes rummaging the entire room quickly.
"My lady, I brought food to break the fast" Annalys walked to the desk, no noise coming from her apart the one of her own steps.
"My lady" began Cerlina as Reila shot her a warning glare, mouthing an harsh 'do not dare', the younger handmaiden ignored her "Do you not think that it might be time to reconcile with your sister?".
Annalys took a bite of her cake, her gaze fixed downwards.
"I could arrange to send her here, if you desire" insisted Cerlina "It has been almost a month, my lady".
And it was true, Annalys had spent an entire month stuck in an obnoxious routine: she would wake up, sometimes in the middle of the night some other times at sunrise, then she would get dressed, break fast, she would push herself to do a rigorously silent promenade in the gardens with her two handmaidens, she would dine with Ramsay and sometimes her sisters, all in rigorous silence till finally she would drag her body up the stairs to the bedroom.
During the first week following the second she had found out about Robb she had spent each and every moment alone crying; until one day – like a thunder – a eerie numbness had engulfed her. Hostility and anger could not be found in herself no more, fear had left her thoughts and it didn't plague her – except for in her dreams.
And with her negative thoughts, even the positive ones had vanished: she didn't have the strength to find compassion and worry, the feelings that had pushed her to bravely care for Theon during her journey back home, within herself. Unmotivated and strengthless, she did not go look for Theon – not even once – and, given she had never crossed paths with him, she wasn't even sure he was alive to begin with.
"I would like to, thanks Cerlina" she muttered, the two girls hurried outside and less than an hour later, Emmalyn was standing right in front of her, a stern look on her young face.
"Emmalyn" exclaimed Annalys, her voice still plain. The youngest leaped forward, hugging her sister for what felt like hours, no words were uttered, as the fifteen-year-old now knew better than ask her sister for an explanation.
"I am sorry" they said in unison, the eldest shook her head.
"No, you did not do anything wrong" Emmalyn opened her mouth to say something, but the sudden opening of the door interrupted them.
"Apologies my lady, but Lord Bolton should be here in a matter of minutes" Reina's blue eyes were filled with agitation.
"Ramsay?" Annalys answered, confused clear on her face "What does he want?".
"No, my lady" blurted the handmaiden "Not Lord Snow, Lord Bolton".
"Roose Bolton?" cried out the lady as she grabbed her heavy skirt and rushed out of the room, sister and handmaiden following her quickly behind.
"Why wasn't I warned?" Reina bit her tongue, refraining from reminding her that Ramsay had been bragging about this the entire week, uttering an apology instead.
The three hurried down the stairs and into the courtyard where everyone had already been positioned into neat groups.
"My beautiful Annalys" Ramsay called for her, she marched to his side right in time to hear the sentinel shout a confirmation to the people beyond the walls. The bastard standing at her side grabbed ahold of her hand, squeezing it a little too tight "You are late" he whispered.
"I am here, my love" she shot back between gritted teeth. She had started calling him my love a few weeks prior, in a futile attempt to please him, but with Ramsay and his volatile moods it was hard to understand how he would receive it: sometimes he appreciated, others not so much.
The heavy doors opened to show Roose's mighty horse and as the party strolled into the courtyard with a noble air to themselves Annalys forced out a kind smile.
Roose Bolton jumped down of his horse, his fancy attire making a few servants chatter to each other. Ramsay was the first to move, instantly walking forward and for the first time a genuine, not evil, smile was adorning his lips.
The Bolton ignored his son, choosing to walk to another horse instead and offering his help to a rather chubby woman, who jumped down with difficulty.
The duo then turned to Ramsay and Annalys and as father and son exchanged a few words, Annalys curtsied to the woman who followed suit with a very awkward curtsy.
"Lady Annalys Woods, may I present you Lady Walda Bolton" said Roose with a smirk, he looked way more intimidating in her own courtyard than the time she had seen him at Robb's camp. She didn't know if it was because she wasn't under the Stark's protection anymore or because she had learned of Ramsay's true nature and that led to her fearing his father even more.
"Bolton?" she questioned, a curious look spreading over her face. Ramsay walked back to her side, joyous.
"This is my father's new wife, they're newlywed, my love" he then grabbed Walda's chubby hand and kissed it: "Mother" he addressed her, she blushed profusely.
"Now, if you will excuse me" Roose turned to Ramsay and Annalys "I am very tired and I wish to see my chambers, my lady".
Ramsay clamped his teeth in annoyance as Annalys and his father discussed of important matters, the lady noticed with much glee that the bastard's father valued her as more important than his own son. And, as she called a few servants to her side - ordering them to take Lord Bolton to his chambers – she felt powerful as she hadn't in months. Ramsay followed her and his father inside, silent, for the first time since she had met him.

She adjusted her dress for the tenth time as she carefully threw glances at her sisters, who were quietly chatting. As per tradition, every time they had an important dinner Annalys would always get ready in Lunae's room; it had always been mostly to check on the younger one - preventing her from messing her hair or dress with one of her usual shenanigans – but this time, she noted, it was mainly to feel a bit of warmth, before the cold of the Dreadfort would engulf her dining hall.
As she opened the wooden door to the corridor, she felt oddly calm; with the numbness still present deep within her and the eerie knowledge that, despite everything, Roose Bolton showed signs of respect towards her, fear was nowhere to be found in her mind. Given that Ramsay seemed to be intimidated by him - something she had never seen in the bastard – she wondered if Roose's presence would keep her safer.
The still empty dining room was entirely lit with candles and the pleasant scent coming from the kitchens filled her nostrils. Annalys leaned on the stony wall, as a small, almost imperceptible smile spread on her lips. She watched the servants come and go, some seemed scared of her presence, others kept setting up the table, their heads turned downwards.
The number of servants was overwhelming, prior to this moment, she had never stopped to look at them – always caught up in her head to care. They moved so fast she couldn't recognize any of them, except for one, he looked terrified, her eyes caught him as his scrawny figure was moving shakily towards the kitchen.
"Hey" she shouted, everyone froze in their tracks, servants looking around themselves hesitantly, all of them had halted their tasks, except for one, who still tried to hurry away.
"Theon" she yelled at him, as if by magic, all of the other servants retreated back in the kitchen, like a bunch of mice running back to their hiding spot. Leaving the shaking figure alone with the Lady of Woodsteep.
He was standing near the farthest wall from her and as she walked up to him, she took time to take in his presence. He was holding some silverware in his hands, and he finally wasn't looking rugged anymore, he wasn't stinking anymore. He reminded her of the Theon that had served dinner weeks prior: still broken and shaking, but clean and groomed.
"What are you doing here?" she inquired, eyeing him up and down. She had not seen him from the day they had reached Woodsteep, she had assumed he had been hurried inside the castle from a back door, but she had never found out his placement.
Initially, during their journey, she had contemplated giving him one of the lord's chambers - so that he would be hidden from everyone. But then news of Robb's marriage had broken to her, and she had completely forgotten about him.
Without answering her, he limped towards the table, setting the cutlery down on the tablecloth. She followed him, placing a hand over his bony shoulder to turn him around to face her. He had once been taller than her, but now that his figure was hunched and malnutrition had turned him into a puny man, she towered over his figure.
"Are you alright? Where are you sleeping?" her voice was full of concern, Theon kept his gaze on the floor, he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing was able to come out.
"Theon?" she asked, trying to get a response out of him.
"Reek" a babble "my lady". Theon looked more shaken than usual and although he had been cleaned and groomed he looked even more frightening, with his fiddling hands and his wide, bloodshot eyes.
"Is there something you need to tell me?" she pushed on, cornering between her body and the table.
"No my lady".
"Where is he keeping you?".
"Do" a small sob "Do not worry, my lady".
He slightly pushed past her, she watched as his limping figure tried to run to the farthest door. She figured it would be better to let him go, so, with a sigh, she turned to her spot near the wall, waiting for dinner to be served.
Ramsay was the first to arrive, his usual cocky grin had turned into a slight frown that he carefully hid the moment he saw the lady.
"Why is he here?" she blurted the second he got close to her, immediately grabbing her waist roughly.
"Who, my lady?" he faked confusion, his brows furrowing and his eyes turning docile, he couldn't fool her thought.
"My lord, you know who I am talking about, why is he here?" she whispered, her eyes searching for his "I do not want my subjects to see what you did to him".
Ramsay chuckled, a dark kind of laugh, the kind of laugh only he was capable of doing.
"You do not want your subjects to see what we have done?" his tone was sharp "Or is it that you do not want your sisters to know?" Annalys knew fully well he was enjoying messing with her heart. He dared getting even closer to her so that his body was pressing against hers.
Annalys tried to wiggle out of his hold, disgusted by his words and by his body.
"What is it, Annalys, are you afraid that they are going to see you as the monster you are?" she froze.
"I am not, and do not speak of me like that" she spat. Finally finding strength in herself, she placed her hands on his chest, pushing as hard as she could "now move out of my way".
She marched out of the dining room as Ramsay shouted a "That is not so ladylike, my love" her silence met him with please "I will see you at supper then".

The entire room was silent, the only noise coming from the clanking of the silverware, it had been like that the entire dinner.
Sometimes Lunae would utter some question, but she would either get scolded by her sister Emmalyn or Lady Walda, Roose Bolton's wife, would be the only one to answer her.
Annalys sat awkwardly next to Ramsay, nerves eating her up for she was afraid he would bring up the issue of Theon. She felt it coming, she had learned the hard way how much Ramsay liked to tease her.
Theon had been placed in a corner of the room, her sisters couldn't see him their backs turned to him, but Annalys could – she knew it was Ramsay's doing because, every time she'd turn to eye his shaky figure, a pleased smile would form on her betrothed's face.
She knew her sisters couldn't recognize him - he had been to Woodsteep only once before in his lifetime and it had been years before – but Ramsay's unpredictability was tormenting her.
Roose was sat at the head of the table, furthest away from her. The entire time, he had stayed deadly silent, eating his food slowly, emitting no sound - to the point that Annalys had, multiple times, forgotten about him.
Lunae scoffed, visibly bored, and placed her silverware on the table rather loudly, then she sat up straighter,
Annalys recognized it as a sign that another question would soon be uttered, and she braced herself.
"Lord Roose" she exclaimed, her sister Emmalyn kicked her from under the table, then whispered something to her in an annoyed manner.
"Lord Bolton" said Lunae this time all red in the face "Are you not fighting in the war anymore?".
Annalys' head shot up, she tried to feign indifference, but it was difficult when she too had wondered the same question and had been hoping to find out;, little did she know that all it would take was a mannerless nine-year-old.
Ramsay too had raised his head, face contorted in excitement.
"The war is done" was all that Roose said, he hadn't even raised his head from the platter of meat, his emotionless voice rang in the room.
Annalys instantly turned to Theon whose face looked guilty, and Annalys realized: he already knew.
"We won, right?" asked Emmalyn to her bigger sister, an hesitant look even on her face, the lady couldn't bear to hold that innocent gaze. She turned to Roose's stony figure, something wasn't right.
"We did win, yes" said Ramsay, his voice full of glee, a shiver travelled through Annalys' spine.
As her sisters celebrated and loud gleeful chatter filled the room, she turned to the Boltons "What happened to the Lannisters then? How come I was not informed?".
"They also won, my love" said Ramsay, his grin widening even more, the lady's heart started thumping as she tried to put the pieces back together.
"Then who lost?" silence fell.
"The Starks" Roose Bolton's voice rang clear in the entire room "And all of their supporters".
Annalys' hands gripped the table harshly, Ramsay learned over her and whispered something in her ear.
She shot up from her seat, the room spinning out of control, her sisters were looking at her in fear, her husband-to-be's laughter echoing all around her. She took to the door hurriedly.
Tears staining her cheeks, she pushed the wooden door with all of her strength and let it close with a loud bang behind her.
The bastard's voice was still ringing in her head as she quickly ran up the stairs, tears blinding her.
My father killed him, he had said, we're now the Wardens of the North.
Him.
She stumbled over a step, falling onto her knees, her entire body surrendering to the pain. Annalys didn't have the strength to get back up, shaking over the staircase she let out a loud wail as she felt the entire world crumble with her.
The sound of uncertain steps pushed her to close her mouth, someone's hand appeared in front of her face, she recognized it even through all those tears.
It was callous and scarred, some wounds still not perfectly recovered, with missing skin.
"What are you doing here" she uttered in between sobs.
"He sent me" she grabbed his hand hastily, he pulled her up on her feet.
"Leave me alone".
"He ordered me to-".
"Leave me alone you disgusting creature" she angrily wiped the tears from her eyes with one hand, and pushed him away with the other "You already knew this, did you not?".
"I-" he climbed down a few steps scared, his body crumpling up like a piece of parchment.
"You revolt me, you never cared about Robb, look at you, you did not even flinch" she climbed a few steps, her hand grabbing the rail of the stairs, body still too weak to do it alone "Stay away from me, it is your fault"
She broke down into tears once again at the thought of Robb dying.
"It is all your fault, you repugnant thing, if you hadn't betrayed him perhaps he would still be alive".
She took a new step up the stairs, she was not completely towering over him, "You killed him, like you murdered Bran and Rickon".
"It-" he tried to utter something, his body shaking and tears threatening to come out.
"Stay away from me" she growled, her voice now filled with hate, her back turned to him as she rushed up the stairs, sobs echoing throughout the entire castle.

READ ME, I'M IMPORTANT!
Guess who's back, back again, I am back, tell a friend.
Okay, now to the serious stuff, I am seriously in love with the title of this chapter cause the other two have been leading to this one (Think you're funny, think you're smart, think you're gonna break my heart) so yeah I'm v excited.
Also poor Annalys nothing ever seems to go her way, but don't worry, she will get her revenge one day.
To the lovely people that review, thank you soso much and sorry for the wait I was never in the right mood to write and I prefer make you wait a little bit more than give you a shitty chapter.
To make it up to you, if you review you can ask me a question about the next chapters (only one though hehe) and I'll answer privately, I won't lie nor refrain from answering.
Last but not least, to the person that in the last review said 'so you're saying that this isn't a robbxoc fanfic' I think I made it very clear from the start that this was gonna be a fanfic on Ramsay, with a slight love interest for Robb, I never said that this was going to be a RobbxOc fanfiction, if you're not okay with that I am sorry, I will keep mentioning him and further on in the story you'll understand a lot more about his relationship with Annalys. I would've answered you privately, but you gave me no choice since you're a guest.
Hope the rest of you enjoyed this chapter,
Nicole