Chapter Text
Jon should have at least brought Ghost but he was too upset to think. He just wanted to be far enough to not hear the laughter, not hear the music. All the wonderful sounds that make him have trouble swallowing. He was too old to cry dammit, so he marches further into the dark woods, blinking fast. The further he gets the less he wishes to cry. This is a good thing and Jon walks to the small pool he knows is ahead. Kneeling on soft moss, Jon washes his face in the cool cleansing water, calming down. It was expected, it was always this way and Jon knows nothing can change it. Stupid to be this upset, by for some reason, it smarted worse as he got older,not less.
If only he could leave now and become part of the Night Watch. He has dreamed of it, dreamed of the Wall and having a new life. Perhaps becoming a brother will give him the family he always wanted. Father had wanted him to stay home a little longer, even though he could tell how bad it was getting. He would counsel Jon that he was only a wolf pup still, to give himself another year to grow on. Now that has changed he hopes, he has asked his uncle to beg his father. Wondering how he really felt about leaving so quickly, Jon hear something. Looking up fast, Jon saw another boy, standing nearly over him. With a charming grin and a small torch in his hand, the stranger spoke softly. "You must be Jon Snow."
Standing up fast, Jon stammered, "How do you know me, who are you?" Taking a step back from Jon and still smiling, he responded. "I know who you are because my father mentioned I wasn't the only bastard not invited. I am Ramsay Snow, Roose Bolton's bastard." Those eyes suddenly became angry and his voice froze over those words. "He let me come here acting as his squire but I must wait outside. Wait with the other men for the cheaper wine and leftover meat to come outside for us to enjoy. Like we were hounds...no, wait, the hounds get to eat inside, don't they?" At that, Jon grinned in spite of himself, agreeing. "Yeah, the dogs are eating inside, yet here we are. Sorry I was suspicious." Jon muttered. "Can't be too careful these days. I understand." Ramsay said disarmingly.
"Mind if I sit with you, rather than the servants and horses?" He asked and Jon almost gave a glimpse of a smile. "Might as well, it's a long night for the bastards." He tried to quip back and Ramsay gave enough of smile for them both. And for just a while, Jon felt lighter, he had someone who seemed to understand. Ramsay had encouraged Jon to talk and seemed genuinely interested in him. Jon spoke of his feelings of loneliness, how Cat was so cold, how he felt unwanted, unnoticed. Ramsay made supportive comments and even petted Jon on the knee. So wrapped up in the telling of his woes, Jon didn't notice Ramsay inching closer. He was unaware of how the face has begun to change. It wasn't until he heard someone moving around them, that Jon stopped speaking. "Don't worry about it, Jon. It's just my boys, they get impatient sometimes. To be honest, I was having trouble staying awake myself. The baiting is one of my favorite parts but I don't think I could've held on much longer. You do love to go on about your sad, sad pathetic problems, don't you?"
Jon stared at Ramsay in confusion and growing indignation. The face has turned from kind to cruel, sadism gleamed in those eyes. The encouraging smile was now a cutting smirk and the words were cruder. "You poor bastard. Having to have to live in a home of privilege, wearing the same noble clothing, eating their noble food, learning how to be noble. Learning how to read, write and swordplay from the best. Right next to these highborn lords and ladies as if you had the right to. You never met your mother? How sad. I knew mine. She was raped by my father as she told me over and over. A bitch who couldn't hurt her Lord so she hurt his son. And when I started to hurt her back, she tossed me to Roose, like a damned dog. Like I wasn't a human that deserved better than to be swapped away. Everything I have earned from my cold father I earned through pain and humility. We are not equal, we are not the same. Tonight, you are not the bastard Jon Snow, I am not Ramsay Snow. Here is the game. It is a hunt. I am the predator, you are the prey. So run for me."
Jon stared in horror as the other boys slowly came forward grinning. He stood up and then watched as Ramsay began to fit an arrow to a bow. "You can't do this. I am the son of Ned Stark, my father will kill your entire family if you kill me." The largest man in the group laughed and rumbled out, "Who cares if a bastard turns up dead?" Ramsay shot him a warning look and said, "Go easy with your jokes, Damon. The wrong person may take offense." The large man lowered his eyes even though he was three times Ramsay's size. Aiming carefully with his arrow at Jon, Ramsay said, "Don't worry, Jon. I am not killing you. I am hunting you and then taming you. I always wanted a dog. I shall own a wolf instead. Or maybe you'll escape, get away to your daddy in time. Run and lets find out." A whiz then Jon felt burning pain in his right thigh. An arrow had grazed him and Ramsay was setting up another. He turned and ran.