It was finally the day of my wedding.

In the morning Ramsay surprised me with three gifts: A Bolton collar for Lya, a new Dornish handmaiden named Arena Dayne, and "Whimper"

The Bolton collar was made of black leather and had spikes on it's sides. It looked perfect on my beautiful direwolf. My new handmaiden Arena, who brought the collar with her, was a happy yet silent girl. She was young, younger than twelve but probably older than nine. She was obedient and polite.

"If I may, my lady, I shall bring you your wedding dress?" Arena asked me.

I was about to to answer when I heard struggling footsteps. Not soon after in limped in what was left of Wylla Snow.

Seeing her single-armed, bald, pale self... it made me shudder.

"What have we here?" I extended my hand for the letter she held shakily. As soon as I took it she flinched.

Opening my letter, which had a Bolton stamp on it, I read it:

"For my beautiful bride Edda,

I hope you liked the collar and the Dornish girl. Lady Arena was so willing to be your handmaiden, she renounced her loyalty to her house and proclaimed herself a servant to house Bolton. Soon all who are left in Winterfell will be loyal to you and I only.

As for the former handmaiden, I've adjusted her to only listen to you. I even made sure that she cannot speak against you or contradict any of your orders. We cannot risk even minor betrayals tonight.

Your soon-to-be husband,
Ramsay Bolton"

I smiled, looking over at Wylla.
When I reached to touch her face she shivered, which reminded me of Theon. I paused. A feeling of pity arose within me.

Stroking the tall human servant's face I leaned in and whispered "Your son is alive, well, and warm at a nearby orphanage, Wylla. I made sure of it."

Wylla teared up but nodded, trying to keep a straight face as she bowed before me in thankfulness.

I turned to Arena, "Please prepare me a hot bath with rose petals," and I turned to Wylla "and please do get my wedding dress for me." I watched - half joyful half devastated - as the two maidens scrambled to find my things. I was so overjoyed to marry Ramsay, but also afraid I was marrying someone who reduced Wylla to her current state. I blamed myself for her torture, even though I understood that Ramsay tortured her for letting Myranda almost kill me.

Lya rubbed against my black morning gown. Her spiked collar jingled as she did so. The direwolf was now more than half my height, large and red furred.

"My sweet wolf," I stroked her fur, "Look how far we've come"

I did not expect to cry as I said this.

...

I hadn't seen Ramsay all morning, or all day for that matter! After my bath and lunch I finally found my way into my wedding gown. And yes, found my way in. It was extremely complicated, with three layers of white gown before the beautiful silk designs were added to compliment my dress.

It was as if I was dressed as the snow outside. Pristine and heavenly, with my flowing blood-red locks curled and loose for the snowflakes outside to adorn my hair. I looked like a queen.

Arena covered her mouth with her hands at the sight of me. "Oh my! My lady, how beautiful you are... I'm of loss of words-"

"I thank you, Arena," I interrupted, almost annoyed "have you discovered who's to give me away?"

"N-n-no my lady, I-"

"No?"

"Forgive me I simply did not find the time to-"

With a gentle stroke of my hand I caressed her cheek and kissed her forehead. I've found that soothing physical contact helps people trust you more.

"It is alright, lady Arena, it is much too cold for you out there... Wylla?"

She shuffled in.

I grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down my question. "Take this to the Maester. He'll know what to do"

...

Dusk was falling and the Maester didn't know shit.

This meant I was to walk myself down the Isle.

I did not mind it. I had no one left to walk me: no family, no friends, no Theon. My, just the thought of not having Theon anymore almost reduced me to tears.

You cannot look back, I told myself, you must look forward.

Despite this  I quickly visited my father's last resting place in the crypts. I went without Arena or Whimper. Only Lya stood at my side.

"Eddard Stark" I cleared my throat "I promised you some time ago I'd be the strongest of the Stark rulers, avenging those I've lost and ending the lives of the ones who have hurt me. I promised you that I'd never let you down... and only one thing has changed: I will not rule as a Stark." I placed the blue rose in my hand on his final resting place.

I held back my tears again. Why was I so emotional over this wedding?

I smiled through the pain of not having him there with me. What would he advise me to do if he was alive? Would he even had allowed my match with Ramsay to happen? I shook that thought out of my mind.

"Father I'm going to kill Roose tonight," I promised. "I'll make a spectacle out of it. Even the Princes of Dorne will hear of my vengeance." I promised "I will pass on our legacy to my children" Slowly I got up, breathing in sharply to keep from crying.

Lya sat up as well, making little curious noises. She smelled my father, no doubt. She wondered why she did.

I grabbed her by the collar gently and, with one look back at the former Lord Stark, made my way to my wedding.

...

My path was illuminated by torches, each held by a guest of the wedding. People gasped when they saw me with my pristine white wedding gown. No doubt they marveled at it's beauty.

My direwolf walked closely by my side and growled at anyone too close to me. My legs shook with the cold air and wobbled. I was so nervous, too nervous for something I've been waiting for a long time.

I held my head up as I walked through the Godswood. Under the weirwood tree my handsome Ramsay stood with silky, jet-black garments, white gloves, and white fur coat.

This is to be my husband, I told myself in disbelief.

Speechless we both admired each other as I slowly came closer. His icy blue eyes watchful and anticipating what was to come next.

Roose, who stood behind Ramsay, nodded in my direction. As much as I wanted to beat the sophisticated look off his face I smiled sweetly at Lord Bolton.

Finally, standing before Ramsay, I let the ceremony commence.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Asked Roose.

My heart started to beat fast. Did I want this? Did I really love Ramsay? Was I really going to kill a man?

I remembered that everyone was awaiting my response and cleared my throat.

"I-I am Edda of House Stark. I am the trueborn Lady of Winterfell. And I come to be wed," I took a shaky breath. "Who claims me?"

My lover stepped forward. He carried himself with grace as he announced to everyone "Ramsay of House Bolton. Heir to the Dreadfort and Winterfell."

I'm the heir to Winterfell, I thought coldly. However, it was obvious that he did not declare he had more claim over my ancestral home than I by that lie, but wanted to show his authority above everyone else present... right?

Besides, I reminded myself, Once you marry your love you will rule the North no matter what.

Roose watched me carefully as he posed his final question: "Lady Edda, will you take this man?"

I looked over at Ramsay once again. My mind was hesitant and blank as the last bits of my sanity screamed at me to refuse him. But he overwhelmed me. He loved me like no other. He touched my skin and held me, he tied me down and bled me. He was everything I had and everything I will ever have, the only thing more important than power.

"I take this man"

...

The great hall was alive with music. Men drank in celebration of our union, women laughed as they were picked up or dragged to dance by those drunk men. Children ran around and imitated the dances their parents danced.

My husband's arm never left my shoulder as the Lord at our table shared stories and good-hearted jokes about Ramsay and the Bolton family. We laughed along with them, but as soon as two drunk lords came into a heated discussion about wether it was Rogar the Hunts man or King Royce IV that burned down Winterfell, my love leaned and whispered in my ear.

"My dear stepmother Walda has gone into labor tonight," he explained "That is why Roose looks so content with our wedding: He thinks he will be getting a new heir today... Did you bring your weapon?"

I glanced across the room at Roose, who conversed with the Maester gleefully as I lifted my napkin to show Ramsay his sharpened blade.

"Good," he smiled.

"What are we to do?"

"Wait," he insisted as he watched the musicians.

"Ramsay, we can't wait any longer-"

"No, wait" he nodded over at the musicians. They'd stopped playing.

The lead singer, a female with dark hair, cleared her throat as she stood up on her stepping stool.

"Mi Lords an' mi Ladies," she gestured kindly towards Ramsay and I "It is time to clear the floor for these two young lo'ers. May this dance be the start of the long an' joyful marriage of Lord an' Lady Bolton"

Everyone clapped as Ramsay extended his hand for me and led me to the dance floor. He stood in the middle of everyone as the musicians prepared to play a slow melody of love.

He placed one hand on my waist as the other held my hand. I let my other hand fall on his shoulder as the slow melody started to play.

"A lost soul,
He lives but hardly talks
He is waiting for her,
In front of this vision of former times"

He helped me remember the steps of our dance as I struggled. He was a head taller than me, faster, and more graceful when he moved. Yet he helped me feel more comfortable when I glided across the stone floor.

"Nothing around him makes sense
And the air feels heavy
An absent expression,
He is alone, he often talks to her"

He spun me around quickly, making me giggle when I collided against his chest. Swiftly he placed his hands back where they were supposed to be and smiled down at me as we continued to dance.

"He, He is not crazy
He loves her, that's all
He sees her everywhere,
Standing, he is waiting for her
A rose in his Hand,
No, nothing can hold him back now"

He was so handsome. His chiseled jaw, his intense gaze, his devilish smile: he was easily the greatest man I had ever met.
Yet the look he gave me as he gazed into my eyes made me realize I was the most precious thing in his world. Ramsay Bolton, who I looked up at as if he were the mesmerizing sky, looked down at me as if I was more valuable than diamonds.

"Take my hand
Promise me that everything will be fine
Hold me tight
Next to you, I still dream,
Yes, yes I want to stay,
But I don't know how to love anymore,
I've been too stupid,
Please, stop, stop
How much I regret, no, I didn't want all this,
I would be rich and
And I'll offer you all my gold
If you don't care, I
I, I'll be waiting for you in the port,
If you ignore me I, will offer you my last breathe of life,"

For a long while I managed to forget about everything except him and I.

I forgot about the people around us. I forgot about Roose and Walda. I forgot about Sansa, Jon, and Bran. I forgot that there was seven kingdoms and seven Gods. I forgot that my King was Tommen Baratheon and that he resided in Kings Landing. I forgot I myself resided in Winterfell, and what the word "Westeros" meant to me. I forgot my name, age, face, and color of my hair. The only thing that mattered as we seemed to hover in the eternal bliss of our company was that, finally, we were together.

"A candle
Can illuminate the night
A smile
Can build an empire
And there is you
And there is me,
And nobody believes in it,
But love makes a fool turn into a king
And if you ignore me, I'd fight again and again

In my love story
In my love story
In my love story
My love story"

Our spins and movements because quicker and quicker and more vivid as the music grew louder and louder, savoring our last moments of musical passion before the song had finally come to an end.

When it did we halted. Panting hard Ramsay and I laughed briefly before he kissed my mouth, his hands dominantly holding my neck as I gripped his vest. Our guests cheered and whistled for us.

...

"Ramsay, Edda," Roose spoke to us warmly as the festivities ended. "A word?"

He extended his hand for me, which I took hesitantly yet politely. Ramsay agreed for us and so we followed him back out into the snowy night. Silently but with excitement he walked us back to the Godswood, our shoes crunching on the snowy floor.

Holding me by the arm he asked me, with alcohol in his breath,"Are you not cold my lady? I wouldn't want you to get sick on your wedding night... Ramsay?"

"At once father," Ramsay insisted as he finished undoing his coat and placed it over my shoulders, kissing me on the side of my face. Why that still made me blush was besides me.

"You are both so courteous, my Lords," I thanked them.

Roose patted my arm in thanks, pausing under one of the crimson-leaved trees.

"I've come to give good news," Ramsay and I shared hidden double takes as Roose delivered the next line: "Walda has given birth to a healthy baby boy"

Ramsay clenched his jaw, which made his father laugh. He placed his hands on his son's shoulders, his sophistication and regality gone "Ramsay, you will always be my first born, and my heir!"

Ramsey's eyes widened "But... you have another son-"

"I know, and King Tommen knows, we all wanted this heir to be the next leader of Winterfell! Hah! I even ordered my men to kill you! But... I couldn't do it," Roose laughed hysterically, "For some reason I could not bring myself to kill you or your bride, who I could've wed myself acknowledging the fact that the North will always bow to the Starks," he placed his hand on his son's face "But now I see that you're my son, Ramsay. Truly. And I will no longer pursue to kill you, or pursue your wife. Now I will only pursue to raise your brother to be just as great as you are, so that you both will take down our present and future enemies under the proud, Bolton name"

Puzzled, I watched Ramsay's relieved face closely. The knife that was once inside Ramsay's cloak was now hidden behind my back. But did Ramsay suddenly change his mind?

Ramsay gave Roose a hug. As his gentle smile turned into a smirk, he whispered his last confession to the old Lord.

"I prefer to be an only child"

I drove the knife into the back of his neck as Ramsay pushed him deeper into the blade. The blood splattered everywhere, from my wedding gown to the snow to Ramsay's face.

Roose made gurgling noises in his last attempts to call for help. Blood spat out of his mouth as he tried to breathe. However, he finally gave up and fell backwards, lifeless, almost crushing me before I moved out of the way. With a grim sound like a wet thud he fell on the blood-splattered snow.

Ramsay's blade was still stabbed into Roose's neck, so he knelt down and pulled it out from the blade end, cutting through his gloves and the skin of his palm.

"Humph," he raised his eyebrows in surprise as he closely inspected the blade "Well, I'd think there'd be more blood!"

"That's because it's all over me, love," I looked down at my dress in shock. The beautiful white dress now had a solid red stain that ran from my chest down to my feet.

"You always looked good in red, you know?" Ramsay smirked.

"Oh, Ramsay," I started to panic, "Th-they're going to find out it was us and-"

"And what will they do?" He calmed me, stroking his hands up and down my arms. In the most malevolent way his blood-splattered face aroused me. Placing his cut hand under my chin and lifting it up he reminded me "We are the Wardens of the North,"

My heart felt as if it was set on fire. His lips connected with mine and we shared a passionate, lustful, bloody kiss.