Her stomach knotted tightly as the scene unfolded before
her. One moment Negan was talking, and the next Ghost
had attacked. It all happened so much faster than she
could have ever been prepared for.
She knew it before Ramsay even moved to ready his bow
that Ghost would be DEAD if something didn’t happen in
that precise moment in time.
❝ STOP!!! ❞ She screamed, not a single clue as to what the
hell she was going to do or say to follow that up. But she
didn’t have time to think about it. Ramsay already had his
aim set. All he had to do now was release.
❝ Lord Bolton– ❞ She took a small step forward, blue eyes
pleading with just as much desperation as her words.
❝ Please don’t kill him. Please. Do this one thing for me–
as a thank you!! ❞
A thank you for this victory. They were words Michelle knew
only Ramsay and Negan would fully understand. No one
else. But she knew the odds of this actually working were
slim to none, and there were more factors at play than just
Ramsay.
Any one of the hundreds of men surrounding them could kill
the dire wolf just as easily. And if Ghost attacked again, she
was sure that would be the end. Ramsay wouldn’t hesitate.
It was within the blink of an eye, and a JUST perfectly timed reaction,
that Negan found himself nearly missing a chunk of flesh. Sharp,
merciless teeth of a direwolf found themselves lodged deeply within
Lucille, the wood splintering but holding for the moment as the
southern lord had to brace himself, giving out a grunt through
clenched teeth.
❝ WHAT the shitting SHIT?! ❞ Negan cursed, eyes wide before he
was shoving the large white-furred beast away with a single motion,
dislodging the dangerous maw as he stumbled back. He breathed
heavily as his men approached, weapons in hand, as the wolf backed
up to Jon’s side.
Ah– of course. The Starks and their direwolves. How kind Ned had
been to allow his own bastard to have one too. And, all too happily
he’d see the wolf killed for trying to attack him… until there he heard
Michelle’s pleading, begging against’s Ramsay’s wishes to have him
slaughtered right then and there.
And that was when Negan saw an opportunity. The very opportunity
that would, no doubt, make Michelle like him that much more. After all,
she seemed to have some deeply INTIMATE knowledge about Jon
Snow– no doubt that included his direwolf. It was clear she CARED.
Lord Northbow straightened once more, taking a step back to better put
his own men between himself and the large, snarling beast, whereupon
he tore his gaze away to Ramsay. Still lightly breathless, his brows
furrowed, gauging every reaction of the younger lord.
❝ Y'know, much as I’d like to see the puppy put down for being a little shit
and marring Lucille’s BEAUTIFUL ass surface, ❞ he allowed a pause in
which he glanced to the clear, splintered bite marks, grimacing momentarily
at it. He then moved to eye Michelle, a very clear hint of knowing in his
hazel hues. ❝ I think your dear wife’s got a hell of a point– can’t go sayin’
no to a lady, now. BUT– ❞
Negan turned forward once more before raising a finger, dragging it over
his mangled weapon, almost wincing in a sneer at the sight of it. ❝ I’m
afraid Lucille’s gonna want some compensation only YOU can provide,
Jon Snow. Well, ❞ he let a silence slip past his lips, wickedly amused
grin growing. ❝ Only your MEN can provide, anyway. Just sayin’ now,
Lucille is gonna have a HELL of a time with anyone not willing to bend
the goddamn knee. She is gonna LOVE IT. ❞
Ramsay stopped just as he heard Michelle’s desperate pleas.
If she’d taken even a fraction of a second longer, it would have
already been over. The direwolf would have been dead on the
ground– a motionless pile of white fur that would have been
lost forever under falling snow.
And Negan’s response certainly didn’t help the matter at all
either. He wasn’t expecting Negan, of all people, to come out in
support of the idea– ESPECIALLY after that attack. Then again,
it was obvious as hell the older Lord had taken a liking to his wife,
so he supposed it wasn’t it wasn’t all that shocking, really.
As much as Ramsay was tempted to release the damn arrow and
be done with it, he relented. If he went directly against the wishes
of his biggest ally in front of thousands of men, how would it look?
Something like that could easily tear an alliance apart. Ramsay was
impulsive, yes, but he FAR from stupid. He had no choice but to play
along now.
Besides all that– he supposed Michelle had been correct. He DID
owe her. Ramsay would have lost this battle entirely if not for the
knowledge she’d given him nearly a month prior.
❝ You’re right! ❞ Ramsay finally spoke, as he lowered his aim and
turned towards Michelle.
❝ And how could I ever deny such a request from my beautiful wife? ❞
As frustrated as he was on the inside in that moment, Ramsay’s
expression and voice made it impossible to tell.
❝ But my undeniable MERCY in this situation won’t last long! ❞ He
turned back to Jon Snow, his smile completely fading as he went
on.
❝ You have ONE chance, bastard. One chance to make your dear pet
disappear! Do you understand? Fail in your attempt, and he’ll go the
same way as your little brother! ❞
Ghost had become the ever present friend Jon knew he could
always rely on. A beast's intentions were always clear, never a
knife to stab you in the back, always loyal, especially a direwolf
all had pegged as a useless runt. A runt no longer and useless
never. But he couldn't remain.
So the amount of RELIEF Jon Snow felt at this sudden begging,
agreement, then, finally, mercy was utterly palpable. He released
a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, watching the steam of
his oxygen pluming before him as it was whisked away by a breeze.
With a hard swallow, Jon's gaze turned to the woman that begged
for the direwolf's life, noting something strange, something OFF--
that mostly certainly wasn't Arya. Jon knew his sister better than
anyone and, as he'd been told, Ramsay had taken Arya as his wife.
But that wasn't her. And the relief had been compounded all the more
in that single moment.
Finally, Jon's eyes turned to Ghost, watching the large wolf with an
uncertainty. This could very well be the last time he would see the
runt, the very last time he got to stare into those piercing ruby eyes.
But, at the very least, he wouldn't have to watch Ghost be killed in
front of him.
Jon shuffled slightly closer, placing a hand on bristled fur. He
grasped, gaining Ghost's attention before he began muttering,
❝ Ghost... Ghost. ❞ The wolf snarled more, turning quickly to see
his master; the snarling lessened before Jon's brows were tugging
together, a sadness and regret deep within every turn of his
expression. He brought a hand up to pet the side of his neck, the
motion heavy.
❝ Y'have to go now, ❞ he spoke plainly, slowly, conveying everything
else his words couldn't. Jon began to push at Ghost towards the
gate, feeling as though there was nothing and no one else but them.
❝ Run and do NOT come back. D'you understand me? Go." He
shoved harder, the beast stumbling, confused, but stood still for a
moment or two longer.
There was a communication unseen, unheard, before Ghost was
taking a solemn step back, the smallest whine before another step
was taken. Back and then back again. Jon grimaced, giving a growl
before crying out, ❝ GO! ❞ with another shove; the beast still
seemed uncertain, but was clever and smart, gaining the gist before
turning tail and running as quickly as he came in.
Jon watched until there was not a single sight of his wolf, feeling both
a despair and a hope. He collapsed further onto the ground, DEFEAT
in every single bone. And then he looked back to the woman, the
woman parading as Arya. He had no idea who she was but now he
owed a debt. A debt that he wasn't sure he could ever rightly pay.
jacobvanloon
areudirty
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snowghoul
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