It had just passed midnight when Roose Bolton strode the corridor to Ramsay's chambers. His face taut; conveying none of the contempt or disgust coursing through his veins like a thundering drum. A feeling he had grown accustom to, dealing with his son.

He considered himself a cruel man with a lust for power and they said the apple never fell far from the tree but Ramsay was… something else. Since childhood he'd held a blatant disregard for the fragility of life. Roose had heard the rumours, he knew of his son's somewhat horrific reputation. A few servant girls went missing every so often, a few body parts appeared in the forests…it wasn't a great loss to king or country. However, tonight that had changed!

He'd been on his way to pick out his prey for the evening, whilst his fat Lady wife slept alone, when he'd overheard the hushed whispers of two cooks.

"I can't believe what he did to her."

"Monster, the North will never forget."

As he listened carefully, the contents of their conversation made his stomach turn. How anyone quite as calculated and manipulative as his bastard boy could be so stupid made his sick!

Two of Ramsay's 'boys' were stationed outside his door; sneering and talking. They removed before Roose's hand touched the heavy wood. It crashed against the old stone, exposing a dark lair of stale misery. Tension thick in the musty air. At the end of the bed Reek curled into a shaking ball. The young lady Sansa lay in the bloody tatters of her wedding gown, she was not asleep but showed no reaction to his intrusion. Beside her Ramsay slept like content child; his leather breastplate rising and falling with each breath.

"Get up"

"Father" Ramsays eyes searched the darkness.

"UP!"

It wasn't often Roose saw fear in his son's eyes but oh how he enjoyed it when he did.

The corridor was cold and candle light flickered. Ramsay searched for an explanation but none was given.

"Father, have I displeased you?"

"Yes."

A sordid smirk crawled across his lips"…but what could I have done?" He pretended to consider his recent behaviour.

"When I saw you married I finally glimpsed a son I could be proud of. I gave you an opportunity. A Bolton bastard married the last Stark of the North. "

"I have no idea what you're taking about" Ramsay held his jaw strong.

"The servants talk Ramsay and not just inside these walls by now half the North will know what you did to her. Old lords will be falling over themselves to ride to our gates and defend Sansa Fucking Stark's honour. " He watched Ramsay grimace at his words.

"Let them."

Roose's eyes darkened. " I gave you the Key to the North and you raped it."

Ramsay nodded "She's my wife and I will do with her as I like."

"That girl was born to be queen and misfortune has landed her on our doorstep. She has more nobility in a single finger than you in your entire body. The last Wolf of Winterfell is in your bed and if you can't handle her I'll take her from you."

Ramsay paled, caught off guard.

"Don't think I would have married a Frey if I'd had Sansa Stark on offer. A child of Bolton and Stark blood will rule the North but you're taking it for granted that it be your child."

All trace of colour faded from Ramsay's face. Without another word his father departed, leaving Ramsay pressed against the cold stone wall, in the dark, his imagination running wild.