The Snow Keep

A lone figure staggered through an overgrown pathway, wandering past several rows of crumbling tombstones under the soft moonlight. The drunken man stumbled but caught his balance along the way, spitting out vile curses as he held onto a bottle of half consumed liquor. A pack of hungry wolves howled in the distance, but he paid them no mind while making his way towards the dilapidated monastery. The worn down steps creaked under his bulky weight and the front doors groaned as they were opened and closed. Once inside the chapel, the Hound made his way towards a middle pew and sat down, staring up at the empty altar, framed by intricate stained glass. Ambient light illuminated the sermon podium, covered in dust and a mass of spiderwebs. It had been years since the old, but dutiful priest had given voice to the will of God and the purpose of man. But Sandor Clegane could still remember the kindly soul that had given a beaten young dog shelter and a chance at redemption. Any time he n

Oblivious to the plans being made by their men, the two girls spent the afternoon in Melly's dressing room, sorting through her wardrobe in order to temporarily outfit Arya. Normally, Ramsay had all of Arya's clothing meticulously chosen by elite personal shoppers before making the final decisions himself. For now, however, Gregor was allowing no visitors to enter, or even approach, his fortress. The cleaning staff, gardeners, even the chef who came in from town five days a week to prepare their dinners, all had been put on hold until he and Ramsay deemed it safe again.  Melly knew this was the best way to proceed. She'd been on edge since Sandor Clegane had breached the gates of their home and forced his way into the house. If she had to cook more often and clean the house for a little while, she didn't mind. Before she'd come into Ramsay's possession, she'd had to take care of these kinds of everyday things for herself.  The house was so vast that she an

"Come on, you damn pussy. That's all you got?" Gregor prodded with a dark laced humor, talking over the death metal playing on the sound system and the repetitive clanking of heavy weights. "You're never going to get any better with everyone babying your pale ass. What would your father say if he saw you this weak?" The Bastard's only reply was the fury building behind a pair of ice blue eyes. "Yeah... that's what I thought. Give me ten more and then you can stop for today. This basic routine is hardly even a warm up for myself." Gregor smirked, boastfully as Ramsay gritted his teeth, beads of sweat dotting his forehead, while the bastard pushed through a final set of leg lifts that had his muscles burning with fire and screaming in agony. “Fuck…You... Asshole!" He spat out curses with the final thud of the weights, wondering why in the seven Hells he had ever agreed to let Clegane be his physical therapist. "You're the s