Chapter Text
A blast of the horn and the hounds run off, the baying ringing through the air. Reek wants to cover his ears to block out the sound. The clatter of horses hooves, the shouts of men, his own heart pounding in his chest, it’s all too much. He had hoped against hope that Ramsay might have been in a generous mood and left him in the kennels during the hunt but, as usual, there was no such luck.
“The bitch runs fast.” Ramsay mused, galloping close by Reek, making sure not to let him out of his sight. Not that Reek would run; they both knew there would be no point in it. Still, Ramsay liked to keep an eye on him.
“Aye my lord.”
“No matter, she won’t get far. Perhaps you’ll be the one to shoot her down.” Reek did not reply, knowing his lord didn’t really want a response.
“I may even let you have a go at her before the dogs get her. Would you like that? To fuck a woman again?” A cruel laugh tore from the man’s throat. Kicking his horse he rode on a little ways ahead. Reek bowed his head, a horrible, sick feeling rising in his chest. He almost preferred a beating to Ramsay’s words. Almost.
The rest of the party had split up; the only sign of them were the distant sounds of their laughter. Ramsay meanwhile, gestured for Reek to stop, and, bows in hand they continued on foot. Ramsay ran and Reek limped along, trying hard to keep up. He hoped for his own sake that the girl gave them a good chase. Ramsay liked it better when there was a challenge. Maybe if it went well Reek would get to eat the dinner scraps and even sleep beside the fire. He might even be allowed some wine. It could happen, it Ramsay was in an unusually good mood.
A slight rustling noise draws Reek from his thoughts. When he turns in the direction it came from he finds himself face to face with an enormous boar. In his fear he comes to a sudden halt, eyes locked with the beast.
“Come now Reek!” Ramsay snaps, slowing to glance back at his servant.
No! Reek thinks desperately, although the words die in his mouth. Unawares, Ramsay strides towards him, a murderous look on his face.
“My lord stop!” Reek calls as the boar turns to face the larger man. Miraculously, Ramsay halts, head cocked to the side curiously. In that second the animal charges, tusks bared.
“Ramsay!” Reek shouts, daring to use his lord’s first name in his desperation, but the boar has already collided with the dark haired man, knocking him to the ground. For a moment Reek is paralyzed, unable to do anything but watch as the massive beast rams its tusks into Ramsay’s side again and again. Finally, fumbling with the bow he looses an arrow, hitting the boar in the left shoulder. It isn’t enough to fell the creature but it is enough to scare it off. Reek braces himself for the blow he will doubtless receive for not acting sooner. He waits for Ramsay to stand; furious at the interruption of his hunt He waits yet the blow doesn’t come.
He glances down to see his lord sprawled on the forest floor, hands pressed to the deep red wounds on his thigh. Reek blinks, uncomprehending. This is not the Ramsay he knows, his lord had taken pain that would have made any other man pass out with barely a grimace. Yet this had left him helpless.
I could run. Reek thought, feeling hopeful for the first time in months. With any luck the bastard will bleed out and even if he doesn’t he won’t be able to follow me. By the time anyone finds him I’ll be far away. I could do it.
And run where? There was nowhere he could run. He doubted that anyone he came across would show him any more kindness than Ramsay had. At least Ramsay could be kind when it suited him. With Ramsay there were sometimes gentle pats on the head or a warm spot by the fire. Sometimes he would whisper sweet things in Reek’s ear during their coupling, hands ghosting over bruises and scars with almost unbearable tenderness.
Reek felt the person he used to be tugging him towards the woods, towards freedom and away from the constant fear and pain that came with Ramsay Bolton.
Run! The boy shrieked at him. Run fast and run far. Far, far away from this place. He doesn’t love you, he can never love you. He hurts you; he’s taken your fingers, your teeth, your cock, even your name. He is a monster.
Reek glanced once more at his bleeding master then down at his mangled hands, his reed thin arms, the numerous scars criss-crossed over his skin. He didn’t need a mirror to know that his eyes were sunken and mouth deformed from lack of teeth.
So am I. He thought. His mind made up he strode to his master and carefully, as though approaching a wounded animal, knelt beside him in the snow.