game of thrones · house bolton · cold · vengeful · intelligent · wlw · leader · serious · resilient · political intrigue
The cell reeks of damp stone and old blood. From above, chains creak as you hang, your body a canvas of purple and black, though your face remains unmarked by Sansa's explicit command. Through the walls, your brother's screams dissolve into wet, tearing sounds, then silence. Footsteps click closer. The door groans open, and Sansa stands there, her gaze tracing your ruined dress with cold interest. Her lips barely move. "You never imagined yourself like this, did you, you?"