The Snow Keep

Ramsay chased after Arya like one of his rabid dogs, cornering the frightened creature inside the bathroom, where he now stood outside the locked door. He had already smashed down the bedroom door, the shattered slab of wood hanging off it's hinges in ruins from the Bastard's dark fury. Those icy blue eyes glared at the current blockade, listening to Arya's despondent weeping and silent disobedience as she refused to open the door at his command. Arya crouched in the corner of the bathroom, consumed with terror. She listened as Ramsay kicked his way through the bedroom door, the hard wood cracking and splintering, then giving way with a final crash. She did not scream, her prey instinct seemed to take hold of her and she curled up, making herself very small, sobbing quietly. Ramsay stomped across the master bedroom, pausing outside of the bathroom door and Arya nearly lost control of her bodily functions, her fear was so great. Her whole body trembled uncontr...

As he pulled her close and she didn't stiffen or try to pull away, again, Gregor wondered what caused her to be so brave. His Lady wife only sighed contentedly and wrapped her arms around him, stroking his hair and pressing her body into his. "Little Doe..." He said softly, closing his eyes for a moment, he feeling  the throbbing in his head lessening. "Your head, it hurts you, my Lord?" She asked,him, her voice quiet, soothing. He nodded, raising his head to look into her eyes. "Aye, it does." He answered, and her brow furrowed with concern. She caressed his face with her fingertips. Her touch was like feathers brushing against his rough beard and he sighed. Melicent leaned closer and laid tiny kisses on his forehead, then, her lips moving to his temples. Her kisses made him think of warm summer rain, falling gently, almost imperceptibly onto his skin. Gregor turned his head slightly to capture her lips with his own, and she gave a tantalizing littl...

...and like winter, that means preparations must be made. This kind of thing is taking a good deal of time, but we're still finding a bit of spare time to write. Just wanted to let you all know that we're still here and we haven't forgotten that people are waiting for updates. However, while satisfying the Bolton, Rising readers, we disappoint The Mountain readers, and vice-versa. For this, our apologies, Bolton now has a couple of recent updates and The Mountain is scheduled to update within the week. We wanted to give you a quick update, as it's been a long time since we "talked" to you, and surprisingly, it seems that people don't just want story updates, they want to know how things are going with us. I have to say that I find it both shocking and sweet that people who visit our blogs care about what the writers are up to, and if we're doing well. Still, our readers never fail to surprise us, most with how lovely you are, and a few with the ext...

After departing from the hospital where Sandor Clegane laid in critical care, Petyr returned to his office at the nightclub and found an unexpected visitor. Someone he was loathe to deal with at the best of times. Now with his Dog out of the game and his Little Bird broken hearted, Baelish was in no mood for a charity case. "How did you get in here? You stink worse then a sewer." Littlefinger questioned sternly as he removed his expensive suit coat and hung it up on the far side of the room, away from the lingering odor, before going to open a window. "Well? Speak up. I can't hear you mumbling over there for gods sakes." Petyr sighed and poured himself a strong drink, his grey-green eyes watching the shivering figure in the corner turn around and step forward into the light. Even after all this time, Baelish felt ill at the sight of Theon Greyjoy, a walking reminder and warning to those who would dare cross the Bastard of Bolton. Ramsay's dark r...

Arya felt herself pulled from a deep sleep as Ramsay arose from the bed. She'd felt him caress her hair, felt his lips touch her shoulder. He'd whispered to her as she'd stirred, but she hadn't heard his words, as sleep had taken her again. Soothed by his touch, the sound of his voice, her Master, her love, she'd slept once more. When she woke again, she felt chilled and moved to gather the covers around her. Ramsay's side of the bed was empty and she waited for him to return. There was an empty Scotch glass on the bedside table, but his phone was missing. After a moment, she slid across the bed and opened the drawer. Ramsay's knife was gone too, but his shoes still lay where he'd kicked them aside when he'd undressed for bed. Arya concluded that he must still be in the house somewhere. Perhaps he'd gone to the kitchen, or he could be working in his office. He'd been sweet to her tonight, she thought, smiling as she snuggled ba...

The Mountain stomped forward and shoved Ramsay aside roughly as he leered so openly at Melly on the bed, his beloved woman tossed down like a piece of succulent meat to be feasted upon. "If we're doing this now, then I'm the one calling the shots here Bastard!" Gregor rumbled with pent up fury, yanking at the button to his jeans, sending the piece of metal flying and rolling across the floor. "She's your bitch. The one you stole from me. I wouldn't expect otherwise." Ramsay replied with a cool casualness, tamping down his own heated irritation at being manhandled by his close friend. He always let Clegane get away with too much and the lack of respect would one day fester into something dangerous. Melly raised herself slightly, observing the interaction between Gregor and Ramsay. Her mind was strangely clear. She was completely focused on what she knew was her duty, to please her Man, and her Master. She remembered something that Rams...