{ This is the expression that means the same as the carrot and the stick, but I decided to translate it literally. Because of reasons. }
If you think this has a happy ending you haven't been paying attention
Ramsay Snow
"Lady Dustin!"
Ramsay stopped next to the widow of Barrowton and met the gaze of her dark gray eyes.
Her expression changed from a rather friendly one, with a barely noticeable smile and little wrinckles by the corners of her eyes, to a strict, faded even, not expressing feelings.
Actually, Ramsay had never spoken to this woman before. So he determined that it was her by two simple signs.
Domeric was going to find her before the feast, because she is his aunt and loves him very much. And this means that if Domeric is seen animatedly talking to a woman who is not his age, then it's obviously Lady Barbrey Dustin.
She's a tall woman, taller than Lady Catelyn, with a widow's bun on her head and graying hair. Basically, it could hardly be anyone else, because at the court of Eddard Stark only the lazy or the blind did not know about these features of Lady Barbrey. And any of the major lords did know her as well. Everyone who ever did a courtesy visit while riding through Barrowton or going up the river from Saltspear bay.
Lady Barbry did not like Southerners very much. That's why her stay in Winterfell was rare, but remembered by everyone present for a long time. Lady Caitlin's spoiled mood provided a hassle to all the servants, squires and more so bastards. At least, that's how Ramsay remembered Jon describing the situation.
"What do you want, bas..." the woman began to twist her lips.
"Hello, brother!"
They said it at the same time, but even though Lady Barbrey caught herself, Ramsey involuntarily twitched because of conflicting emotions, too vivid to cope with them without any reaction. It took quite a bit of effort this time to calm himself down, but Domeric noticed and held out his hand to his brother.
Ramsey shook it, almost like grabbing a lifeline, but nearly immediately pulled away, because Lady Dustin was carefully studying their interaction. Her gaze, eloquently resting on the clasped hands of the two brothers, and her face with pursed lips and raised eyebrows expressed obvious discontent.
"Domeric, I have something to tell Lady Barbrey, and I do not know if she feels... comfortable..."
"Did he do it after all?" Ramsay's brother interrupted. "I didn't believe it was even possible!"
"Yes," Ramsay nodded and folded his hands behind his back. "Lord Eddard has finally reached a relative completion to this business, and all the remains from the far South have already arrived at Highgarden."
"What are you talking about?"
Lady Barbrey blinked frequently and even took a step back. That was probably because she was rumored to be a smart woman, though superstitious. Likely, she already guessed.
"I'm telling you this," Snow continued, "because our lord trusted me and Greyjoy to deliver the cargo...erm..."
Ramsay felt his ears turning red and looked at his brother with panic.
"Only I didn't tell you that, please, brother! Greyjoy doesn't know yet that he's involved."
"Oh! It's about that secret of Lord Stark and Lord Manderly, isn't it?" Domeric was amused. "Sansa is quite helpful whenever she wishes it, that's for sure! Just imagine how the three of us would feel when everything is revealed, m-m-m!"
Ramsay frowned and started to open his mouth to shut his brother up. Obviously, he had too much wine during his morning mealtime. Judging by the loosened tongue, there was clearly less food than wine, however, as usual.
"Hey! Listen."
Lady Dustin held out her palm in front of her, thereby stopping the very likely revival of the dispute between Ramsay, who had been leading an extremely sober lifestyle for some time, and Domix, who was a favorite guest at every drinking party. He had skills in playing musical instruments and singing, so he could continue to entertain people even being shitfaced and laying on the tabletop.
"I'm listening, Lady Dustin," Ramsey replied in a well-trained voice.
In his mind he was already counting the days until the departure from this sewer of lords and ladies who were at the peak of this cockery in front of each other.
"Start again, bastard. What about this secret, go into more detail, don't be shy. If I understood everything correctly, then our High Lord needs something from the Dustins, and I don't like it... Stop wincing, Domeric, dear, I do not share this newfound worship of our Quiet Wolf. Your father isn't thrilled either, if you well remember."
"Lord Bolton knows perfectly well," Ramsay did not let Domeric laugh it off, forcing Lady Barbry to fix her dark eyes on the bastard she despised so much, "that the future of the North lies in following the Lord of Winterfell, Lady Dustin. And Lord Eddard," Ramsay emphasized the name, specifically showing his ability - and honor - to call the Paramount Lord by his first name, "understands this very well. Therefore, he gave both me and the Greyjoy the opportunity to see some of the Westeros, at the same time correcting a mistake that prevented and still, it seems to me, does not allow you, Lady Dustin, to be completely loyal to our Lord."
"What do you dare to accuse me of, boy!" Lady Barbry hissed, her fingers curled in fruitless rage, and Domeric almost lost his jaw because of his brother's brazeness. "I'll have you flogged!"
"You just wanted to lead the Guardsman on duty to betray the liege, Lady Dustin. You know what this patch on my gambeson means, don't you? It cannot be said that there is anything dangerous for my Lord in your knowledge that Lord Stark is preparing a gift for his fosterling with the help of Lord Manderly, not at all. But even the thought, Lady Dustin, made me remember that I'm actually the officer on duty. Of course, Lady Dustin, you could try to order me flogged, but if you're not going to do it yourself..."
Pouring out his displeasure at the stunned noblewoman, Ramsay allowed himself a vile smile. He knew firsthand about this quality, because in his little room there was a small, half-palm-sized silver mirror, ordered by Lord Stark from Oldtown. It arrived at the gardeners' territory from who knew where from Essos. A keepsake for the bonus payment, as the Lord put it while granting it, yes.
"If I'm not doing it myself, then what, insolent boy?"
Lady Dustin almost growled the last couple of words, but Ramsay suddenly heard a note of contentment and even acceptance in her tone. This blend gave a vague feeling of respect born in the noblewoman, which would be odd if it was someone more southern than Lady Barbrey.
"There are no people wishing suicide here, Auntie," Domeric rubbed his temples. "And you're too dear to me to let Ramsay hold a grudge. This mind has too good an imagination."
"He won't dare touch..."
"Of course not, Auntie. He's his father's son, after all. Not an idiot."
Domeric smiled too ingratiatingly at his aunt, stopped Ramsay by the elbow, because he had already turned to leave, and sighed wearily.
"Apologize to Lady Barbrey. It was completely unnecessary, brother."
Ramsey shrugged and obeyed.
Serving the Lord of Winterfell has not only changed Ramsay's eating and hygiene habits, no.
Now Ramsay had a goal that did not lead to the death of the heir to Dreadfort, who wanted a brother so he went to get acquainted with his father's bastard, knowing nothing about him and suspecting nothing.
The brother then spoke of Lord Eddard collecting bastards in Wintertown, which saved him. Poison for a moron was not going anywhere, as well as the blood ties to the rapist from the Dreadfort. That's what Ramsay thought when he begged for a spare horse from Domeric and that same day set off west through the Lonely Hills.
Reek was still alive then.
Lord Eddard listened to Ramsay Snow's story in person, interrogated Reek and, as a result of this interrogation, set the execution. Told Ramsay what he could've done to his father, but didn't wish to shed that much blood. He forced Ramsay to confess to Domeric and tell him about their father's crime. And confess to planning poisoning.
Ramsay then thought that this was his deferred punishment, and already regretted that he had come. Comprehension of who exactly was sitting in front of him and sizing him up impassively did not allow Ramsay to make the mistake he briefly thought about. To grab the dagger on his belt.
Immediately after the whip came the gingerbread.
This expression, about the whip and gingerbread, Ramsay learned later, when of all the bastards who arrived as well, he became the best in everything they were taught, if it did not concern behavior, of course. Rage called for an outlet.
It is now the bastard of House Bolton remembered that time nostalgically.
It was much easier then than it is now, when Rodrik Cassel is trying to prepare him for what Jon Snow would've been better at. This idiot was obsessed with the Night's Watch and its rebirth, especially after what Lord Stark promised... Renovation, whatever that means.
Though it is Ramsay who will be able to successfully understand the political games in such a shaggy Skagos ass, which is King's Landing, as Lord Stark correctly noted when he told Ramsay Snow about his plan for the most successful bastard of that - certainly cursed by the gods - school. The same Jon Snow, for example, was not quite suitable for any politics - the boy could not think outside the laid-down rules somewhere other than the fight.
There have already been bastards in the King's Guard, so with this one, Ramsay won't be the first, that's right.
There weren't any Northeners, ever.