I'm a GOT fan but this is my first fiction pertaining to the series, so please, be patient.

Another thing -this will not follow the episode line and the plotline. This will be sort of a break off but it'll still be with the characters of the series, just not the episode line. And it'll still be same ol' brutal Ramsay Bolton we know we all love...

Rated M for a reason too.

The sound of the bells that signalled an imminent assault had her rushing out onto the fenced ledge that protected her from falling off to her death. She didn't need a sight glass to spot the incoming armed men that shook the ground with their march. Their booted feet created rumbles through the ground -there had to be over five thousand of them. Her small force of half of that couldn't protect her within these walls! The other three quarters were off lending their assistance to one of their allies.

They had waited for this.

Enough was enough. Callidora stormed off the ledge, snow swirling around her skirts as she did. It had snowed the previous night but that didn't seem to stop these attackers and these brutal invaders. She heard the sound of approaching boots grow nearer and she walked out into the storm. A guard spotted her immediately. "Your highness!" He called as he walked at a fast pace and she whipped her body around. "What? We don't have time to stand idle and talk. Who is invading and how far is the rest of the army away from us?"

He nodded, realising she was taking a somewhat charge of things with her brother's absences. "The rest of the men are too far out, your highness. We are incredibly depleted and we won't stand a chance against them if they breach the walls. Thousands, including the citizens, will die if that happens." He said seriously.

She sighed looking pained. "And which house dares to invade the House of Marcellus?" She asked again and he glanced down before back at her. "House of Bolton, your highness."

Callidora went pale and she nodded solemnly. "Ready the archers. We can not let those savages behind these gates and walls. If we can not defend from the outside then we'll strike them down from the inside. Now go -you have work to do." She dismissed before she headed off to the battlements, wanting to make sure for herself. It wasn't as if they had a common household shield, and it was a horrible one at that.

Flaying a man or woman or even child was not humorous in any way whatsoever.

And there it was. That horrible, nausea inducing household shield -a man flayed, upside down on an X against a background of pure black. That was enough to convince her. More than enough, in fact. She made her leave quickly, heading back into the place she called home. She wouldn't be a prisoner or even become another one of their flayed victims that no one would remember. She was Princess Callidora of House Marcellus,
cousin to the House of Stark. She wasn't going down without a fight.

Her handmaidens rushed to her side as she walked into her chambers. "Pack some belongings of mine. If it comes down to it, we'll go to Prince Edik and seek his shelter. Big brother owes me as much anyways. Get to it." She ordered before striding from the room, her heart juddering with fear in her chest.

Surely her men would hold the walls? A deafening crash made her rush out onto a railed ledge and she watched with wide eyes as the wooden gates that kept out intruders shuddered, little pieces of wood falling off of them. The home was surrounded by her men, all of them using their bodies to create a barricade of sorts. Good, That would delay the brutes a little, giving her just enough time to flee and go retrieve more forces that would send the Bolton's back to where they came from.

Enough waiting. She decided against going back outside after seeing that and all but ran back to her chambers, throwing the doors open. "We're leaving now. Get your own and let us go to Prince Erik in the south."

Her boots were silent as she walked with her two ladies maids and a guard, the latter glancing around each corner before letting them go past it. It was terrifying -she could hear the screams of her dying soldiers from down in the courtyard and the wails of the innocent people who sought the shelter and protection they should be receiving behind their walls.

They would pay for this.

A loud crash made everyone freeze and the guard whose name she believed was Asvladr held up his hand and walked forward. He didn't get far.

Blood spurted everywhere as the blade of a sword sliced through his neck and he collapsed to the ground. Callidora took a few hasty steps back as a dozen men rounded the corner, their devilish grins making her uncomfortable. "Kill those two but not her." One pointed to her. "Lord Roose wants her alive."

Chaos ensued. She ran, her skirts flying out behind her as she ran down, heavy feet pounding down after her. She only had one dagger in her belt and that would be useless against swords. If only she could reach that lever...

And there it was -it was like a beacon of hope fixed to the wall, her salvation. She ran to it as fast as she could, skidding to a halt beside it just as the five men who'd been chasing her appeared with their swords drawn and pointed at her. "You're coming with us, princess. Lord Bolton has great plans for you." One leered.

Grasping the lever tightly in her clammy hand, Callidora clenched her jaw with an unusual anger burning fire raging inside her. "Burn in hell."

Oil spewed from the ceiling as she pulled the lever and then came the sparks from the grinding metal cogs above. Flames licked at their skin and she ran again, having gotten from them at last. Remorse and guilt plagued her as she walked down the never-ending corridors that she knew better than anything else in the world.

She threw a thick fur cloak over her shoulders before grabbing a dagger from the table. She was fortunate enough to come across some form of protection against the bitter northern winds that even having grown up with them, still got to her time after time. She slipped the other dagger into her belt, quickly fleeing the room as the shouts and screams of dying men plagued her ears. What were they doing to them out there? She daren't look.

Finding the stables was easier than it seemed, and she found a steed within seconds of looking. Not time was to be wasted with using a saddle but she grabbed the muzzle and quickly fastened it on, clipping the reigns to it with clumsy hastiness. They could come in at any moment and she would be all but defenceless. She needed to get out, to go seek help in her brothers. They could protect her.

That guard had said that the head of the Bolton household had 'plans' for her. She didn't like the sound of that. She could hear the soldiers above her through the floor, their heavy footfall giving her a cause to be nervous and or anxious even. Using the reins as leverage she pulled herself up before speeding forward, urging the beast into picking up speed with the heel of her boots.

The wind that whipped around her as she raced into the storm, leaving the carnage and chaos behind her with a relieved sickening remorse filled feeling. She knew she was being a coward for running, but her need for self preservation was larger than her need to surrender. Marcellus's did not surrender.

Snow blew into her face, and the howling of the winds did nothing to mask the alerting shouts of the soldiers as a few spotted her in the distance. Her head turned and immediately she pressed her knees into the flank of the steed -a few were coming after her, and despite her advantage of distance on them, they were gaining quickly. Their horses stormed towards her and fear grew like a sickness inside her. What were these plans that were planned out for her? Was she herself going to be flayed alive? Surely not.

That thought alone was enough to make her feel sicker than a dog.

Suddenly her horse let out a loud screeching cry of pain and crumpled to the ground, taking her with it. She let out her own sound of pain as pain burned in her side. She fell into the snow. The wet white yet powdery flakes went everywhere -her hair, on her legs underneath her fur edged skirts. She scrambled up only to be knocked back down, her eyes watering as everything went dark and those watering eyes slid shut unwillingly.