Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/980946. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: F/M Fandom: A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin, Game_of_Thrones_(TV) Relationship: The_Miller's_Wife/Reek Character: Reek, The_Miller's_Wife_(ASoIaF), Roose_Bolton, Ramsay_Bolton Additional Tags: Necrophilia, Rape, Murder, Graphic_Violence, Torture, Bone_Breaking, Sexual_Assault, Horror, Bullying, Revenge Stats: Published: 2013-09-26 Words: 2126 ****** Heke ****** by briancap Summary Exploring the first Reek and his life at The Dreadfort. Notes I have always had an interest in the first Reek and wondered what made him the way he was. But anyways ENJOY. See the end of the work for more notes She was very pretty. Long thick hair the color of honey. She had high cheek bones giving her a flawless smile and skin the color of cream. Though she wore heavy wool clothing due to the harsh weather in the North, Heke could still see that underneath all that fur, she had curves in all the right places. One of the servants had told him that he would be going with her to help her raise his lordship's own bastard. “Lord Bolton's son is a baseborn creature, rotten, and unwanted just like you.” She said and sneered. Heke ignored her. All his life he was used to people being rude to him, due to his smell. It was something he was born with and he hated it even more than the people around him. He constantly washed though that did no good, as well as wore flowers in his hair. He felt the horrible sting of the whip and even risked his life stealing and drinking perfume so he could smell better, but it was of no use. He gave up trying and stopped caring what people thought of him. He realized that he would never marry and that he would never have children. The only thing he would have is hate and mockery, things he had known since he was a child. The people don't even address him by his real name but by Reek. One of the servant girls, the one he gave his virginity to at 13, had said it as a cruel joke and since then that is what they called him, even his lordship. Of course she didn't willingly accept him between her legs, but that didn't stop him from entering her and killing her. It had been late at night and was snowing heavily. He was sleeping with the pigs, they were his true home and family, they didn't mock him or reject him, when he heard the sound of two girls laughing. He turned around and saw them bundled in fur to escape the cold and walking towards the forest. Curious, he had followed them to see what they were doing. It was warm in the Dreadfort because it was on top of volcanic vents, but once you stepped a foot outside, the cold hit you like a fist made of ice. He had stalked them at a distance so they won't smell him but he happened to step onto a small branch that made a loud sound. He stopped walking immediately and hid behind a tree. He was so used to hiding that it came natural. When he was younger and when the insults hurt more than anything else he would often hide to avoid being teased. The girls turned around abruptly. “Who's there?” One of them said. He recognized her voice. He heard it more than everyone else and it always lit a fire in his stomach, which would burn him into a rage. He couldn't reveal himself or he might risk punishment for leaving the castle without permission. He heard one of them begin to walk closer and closer to where he was hiding and he grabbed the dirk he always kept in his pocket, but he decided he needed something bigger for them so he picked up one of the falling branches on the white ground. He heard footstep after footstep. One two three. He turned suddenly and hit her directly across the temples knocking her to the ground and spilling some of her blood onto the snow. Beautiful, he thought. The dark red on white gave him a feeling of elation, especially since the blood belonged to the girl he hated most, for terrorizing him since the first day he began working at the Dreadfort. The other girl who she was walking with began to scream and run and he chased her down. People called him Reek but they had never called him weak. In fact he was very strong and fast, that is why they put up with the smell for all those years. She ran, swerving between trees and stumbling over rocks, when Reek threw the thick branch with all the strength he had. It hit her on her legs, when he wanted it to hit her head, he always had terrible aim. But it still caused her to stop and fall down, giving Reek enough time to catch up to her and snap her neck, with a beautiful crack that went through his entire being. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the silence of the forests before dumping her body into the river. He had to stomp on it to break the ice that was frozen at the surface. Then he remembered the other girl, the one he hated. He would make sure she suffered before he killed her. He followed his footsteps back to where she was lying on the ground, trying to call for help, when he kicked her ribs. Wanting to make her feel hopeless, he placed his foot on her head and forced it into the snow. “Were going to play a game.” He said as he knelt beside her and rolled her unto her back. She looked up to him. “You will be sorry for this. Lord Bolton will have your fucking stinking skin.” “Good. I am happy you are willing to play it.” He took her hand into his very gently. “For every insult you have ever said to me I will break a bone of my choosing.” Before she had time to respond he snapped her thumb. “That was for the threat.” She squeezed her eyes shut and tears rolled down them as she let out a loud scream. He ripped a piece of cloth from her fur and forced it into her mouth to stop her from screaming again. “This is for when you called me Reek.” And with that he snapped her index finger. She tried to hit him with her other hand but with Reek being so quick he blocked it. However, she succeeded in kicking him on his thigh, but he quickly got on top of her. He sat down on her chest, putting his knees on each side of her body then grabbed her hands. “This is for laughing as I was whipped.” He broke her middle finger. And she squirmed and struggled but Reek was strong, stronger than her. He continued breaking each bone in her fingers as he recalled all the wrongs she had done him. When he broke all ten fingers he still wasn't finished and broke both of her hands. He then turned around, with his back facing her, and removed her boots so he could get started on her toes. Once they were broken, he broke her ankles, but by that time she had passed out. It was still late at night and the sun wouldn't come up for at least six hours so he still had a lot of time left to do whatever. He left the girl there and went to the Weeping Water to fill her boots up with ice cold water. He had to kick the surface again to get to the water but once that was done he filled up both of the girl's boot with freezing cold water and returned to her. He walked over to her unconscious body and poured the cold liquid on her face, waking her up startled and shivering, uncontrollably. She looked at him, and tried to rub her eyes when she realized what had happened before. There was no longer cruelty or mocking in her face, the only thing that remained was fear. “No sweetling it wasn't a bad dream. It's real.” 'No' she tried to say before he shoved the fur back into her mouth that had somehow came out as she jerked and thrashed while he broke her bones. His was beginning to harden by looking at this creature, so helpless and at his mercy. It felt nice to have mercy in your hands, but she never gave him mercy so why should he give her any. He opened her legs gently, not wanting to rush because this was his first time. He removed the layer of clothing she was wearing and stroked himself before he entered her. She was tight but warm, very warm. He moved slowly, back and forth, his hips slapping against hers. And he looked down and saw the beautiful red on white again and he yearned to see it more. He grabbed the dirk in his pocket and cut her face, drawing a few fine lines on her skin, but he wanted more, needed more, and with a quick slash he opened her slender throat. The blood washed over the snow beautifully and over him. He felt it's warmth. Life. And he seen her death. As her eyes glossed over and her mouth drooped open, he felt the orgasm tearing out of his body, making him shake from head to toe, spilling his seed into her lifeless cunt. He was out of breath and laid down on her, his face at the crook, between her neck and shoulders, the blood still spilling out, but he didn't care. When you have lain with pigs you aren't scared to have blood on your face. He could have stayed like that for a long time but the coldness biting at his backside told him otherwise. He removed himself from the body and fixed his clothing. When he regained his full strength he picked up her bloody corpse and tossed it into the river and watched as she went downstream, never to be seen again. “Goodbye, my friend.” He knelt down and wanted to splash water on his face to remove the blood but when he felt how cold it was he had second thoughts. He decided that he would roll in the mud to better conceal it on his clothes and use water from the kitchens to wash his face. He walked back to The Dreadfort, looking constantly for anyone who may be awake and stopping to hid behind the stables when he heard the guards talking. As they passed him, he quickly went to his house and rolled in the mud, while the pigs slept. When the sun glanced over the Dreadfort, he was the first one in the bath house. He was cloaked in mud and probably pig shit but he didn't care. He washed himself quickly, watching the clear water turn brown, then rinsed himself off, and placed his clothes from the night before in the hearth. He had brought extra clothes to wear and put them on to conceal his nakedness, then went about his duties like it was a normal day.  X That was five years ago and though the castle had worried about the missing girls, everyone except the Lord and Lady, they had never found the bodies. He was packing the possessions he had and was prepared to leave with the woman. He was waiting for her in the stables with his and her horse ready, already preparing himself for the insults that will come. He wasn't scared to serve the new lord, he was just ready for the lord to smell him, tell him he stinks, mock him, then let it go. The people of the Dreadfort couldn't stand to be near him but they realized that calling him names didn't hurt him anymore. The woman walked into the stables with a bag of coin and other valuables she received from Lord Bolton. Reek wondered how they met because they didn't seem to close and he has worked at the Dreadfort for many years and not once has he ever seen her. 'Maybe because Lord Bolton was married now and his wife would take offense from his past lover spending to much time with him.' She smiled at him kindly, though when she first smelled him, she covered her nose and Reek could have sworn Lord Bolton had smiled a little at that. “What is your name? Roose tells me people call you Reek but that can't be your true name?” “My name is Heke, my Lady.” He replied. “My son's name is Ramsay, a wild thing he is, but I love him. Hopefully you and him will get along great.” Reek knew that wouldn't happen. This boy called Ramsay would never want to be around him and would cover his nose in disgust whenever he saw him. But he was wrong. Him and Ramsay became very close and when Lord Bolton left for war, they hunted every serving woman that had ever been cruel to him. Ramsay even taught him how to flay, that's when the hunts really became fun.     End Notes Thanks for reading.:)) Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!