Man of Honor

Winterfell. Home. Finally she was home and this time it felt real. No longer she was The wife if that pyscho. Ramsay was dead. Eaten and ripped into pieces by these monsters he loved so much. In matter of fact that these digs were The only thing he loved in this world. Finally it was over. House Bolton didn't ecxists anymore. The banners of house Stark decorate the walls. Just like on that Day she legt for Kingslanding with her father. Everything looked the same but nothing was how it was supposed to be. Het fathet was dead just like her mother. Rob and Rickon were butchered by the Boltons. Arya and Bran were missing. She herself was now the widow of a pyscho and Jon, Jon was the king in the north. No one eher had thought it will end up that way. Nobody would have seen that coming.

„Lady Stark?". The sound of a foreign voice caught her out of her thoughts. „Is there anything else I can do for you?"

The small kitchen maid starred at her with huge eyes. „No thank you. I got everything that I need."

„Oh good." She looked irritated and stepped from one foot onto the other.

Sansa watched her quite a while. „What's your name again?"

„Madlen Mylady. My name is Madlen." Was her short answer.

„Is there anything I can do for you? Are you alright?" Sansa asked in a soft voice.

The girl looked confused. She took a step back and starred onto the ground.

„The thin man. I mean the man with the mockingjay bird." Madlen stopped carefully.

Sansa lifted a brow. „Lord Baelish? You mean Littlefinger?"

She nodded and her cheeks turned red. „He asked me for a favour. He told me that I shall ask you for a private talk. Just the both if you alone."

„He did?" Sansa asked in sharp tone.

The girl answered with silence.

„Well then tell Lord Baelish", Sansa started in a strong voice, „that the Lady of Winterfell doesn't have private talks alone with any kind of man."

Madlen nodded quickly. „Yes Mylady."

Sansa turned her back on her. „And tell him that a man of honor would have been worried about the reputation of Lady."

The maid nodded again and left Sansas room.

She knew that Littlefinger wouldn't give up on that. He wouldn't. His confession was clear. A picture of me sitting on the iron throne with you by my side. Destiny seemd to be kidding her. After all she had to watch out that this doesn't turned out badly. And that meant she had to talk to Jon about it. Sooner or later. It looked liked Lord Baelish wasn't in the mood to leave Winterfell. Which means it has to be sooner. Very soon.

Paperwork. All you can see was paperwork. Carts, list, notices. Waves of paper everywhere you look. Now his task was to bring order into the chaos. It was time to adjust a secretary.

"Mylord?". Said Sir Davos and knocked on the open door. "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course. And it's Jon, Sir Davos, just Jon." Releaved about the distraction Jon seated himself on the corner of his desk.

Davos smiled. "Your no friend of big names and titles?"

Jon laughed. "People called me a lot of titles in my life. Snow, bastard, boy and even Lordcommander. They prefered the bastard at all. But nobody ever called me Mylord."

"Am I right that they decided to determine you to the king in the north? I guess you should get used to the title." Davos joked.

The warden of the north twitched with his shoulders. "My friends call me Jon, Sir Davos, and to them I am still Jon. You are a loyal consultant and friend to me. You are the reason I am still standing here. Call me Jon, please. Because if this ends badly they will return to the bastard anyway. I am careful with my habits.

Sir Davos laughed loud and made a step forward to offer him his hand. "Davos. MY friends call me Davos. Not Sir or Lord. Let's end the habits for the public."

Jon shaked his hand. "What can I do for you, Davos?"

"For me? Nothing. But our guest from th south got some issues. Lord Baelish asked for a room. He wants to stay here in Winterfell and not with his troops."

The exhilaration disappeard from Jon's face. "Littlefinger is still here?"

"Littlefinger?" Davos looked irritated.

"Lord Baelish. Littlefinger is his nick name." Jon explained it in a nasty tone. "Did he say how long he would stay?"

"Not at all." Davo sighed. "His words were very clear. He thinks that you could use his help in such difficult days. He said, with a dead bastard on the door step and a bastard on the throne you should be aware of who you could trust in this world. He told me to tell you that that is his specialty."

Jon snorted despicable. "At tis point I quote my sister. Only a fool would trust Littlefinger. I am not in the mood of making myself a fool."

"If you think so." Davos turned serious. "May I asked you something?"

Jon nodded. "Everything."

"Lady Sansa. Do you trust her?"

"I am intrested in the anwser." Tormund stood on the doorway.

Jon cleared his throat. "Close the door behind you."

The wilding entered the room and seated himself into a chair in the corner. "Let's get back to his question. Do you trust her?"

"She's my sister, Tormund."

Davos lifted an eyebrow. "That wasn't an answer at all. You are up to a lot of trouble. You got the nightking in the north and the Lannisters in the south."

Jon sighed. "She is my sister. I do trust her."

Tormund shaked his head. "But she doesn't trusts you."

Davos nodded. "It would have been helpful to be aware of the knights of the vale."

"You're right. But I have to say that she wasn't able to know that Littlefinger, Lord Baelish, was on his way. She told me herself that she send the raven two days before battle."

Tormund laughed. "That leads me in an other direction. Davos and me already talked about that and he was quite confused too."

"Excuse me?" Jons question sounded irritated.

Davos started all over. "Jon. Tormund and I do not permant talked about the trust of your sister. You told us she send the raven two days before battle. The question is why were the knights of the vale that close and ready for battle.

The warden of the north went silent. Damn it. Davos and Tormund were right. He never had asked himself that question. The battle was over. Winterfell belonged to the Starks. Sansa was safe. He had asked her about Littlefinger a few hours ago. But this question never have had come to his mind. The vale was a trip of a week when the weather was fine. Even if her raven was quick there wouldn't have been any possibility for Littlefinger to help that fast. He never had made it to the battle in time. That was impossible. Why do they were that closed? Without the them the battle have had been lost. Ramsay Bolton would be still the warden of the north and the Lord of Winterfell. And Sansa? Would she had been that brave to end her life? Whatever Ramsay had done to her was to cruel that she prefered her own death as an option instead of living with him. Ramsay Bolton was a monster. Some of his words burned themselves into Jons brain. Your sister is a fine woman. I cannot wait to have her back in my bed. However Ramsay Bolton was dead and there was nothing wrong about it. Rickon was slaughtered in the most disgusting and sadistic way.

Tormund almost jelled. "JON?"

Jon took a deep breathe. "I was so busy those day it didn't came to my mind."

Davos nodded. "You're right. It were busy days. But we have to stay focused. The nightking is waiting in the north and as you said we know what's coming with him. And some old friends in the south are not amused about the Stark banner on the walls of Winterfell. It's a matter of time. As Stannis told me there is no difference between Baratheon and Stark because the Lannisters only allow one king. And that king sits on the iron throne.

"And now? Shall I ask my sister if she had lied to me or neither she has some other infading plans with Littlefinger? Shall I asked her if she is going to betray me?" Jon was obviously mad.

"Aye!" Tormund was mad too. "She lied already and she betrayed you already!"

"Sansa never betrayed me!" Jon jumped off the table.

Davos took a step towards him. "We know that we are talking about your sister. But we really have to know what she is up to."

Jon exploded. "I am not calling my sister a liar or neither a traitor. I am not going to question her about that and I am not calling her spy or something else. She may have had some help from Littlefinger and she may not tell us a damn word about the knights of the vale but she isn't my enemy. The soldiers fought side by side with us. They bleeded and died for us. So tell me which traitor sends you an army to win a damn battle?"

Davos nodded but Tormund insisted. "But why didn't she tell a word. Why wasn't she honest from the beginning?"

"Is that really what intrests you or are you just trying to make me suspicious?"

Tormund stood up. "Myfamily is as much important to me as yours to you. I am your friend. So what do you think? Did she betrayed you?"

"She did not betrayed me. She didn't trusted me!" Jon sighed and seated himself. "In better words she didn't trusted in our victory."

"And that's why she left us in the dark?" Tormund shakd his head.

Jon turned mad again. "Shut the fuck up. She was afraid and she paniced. She couldn't know that Baelish kept his word. Do you know what she told me the night before battle. Shall I tell you her words right away? She said if Ramsay wins she not going back there alive. "

Tormund and Davos went silent.

"I do understand you but Sansa is my sister and I trust her. Whatever happend it is over. How could I be mad at her?"

Tormund headed over to Jon and put a hand on his shoulder. "A girl who prefers dying instead of returning to a bed with a pyscho in it does not seem like a traitor to me."

Jon was releaved. "Sansa wouldn't do anything to harm our home or the north. You have my word."

Could he keep it? He only said those thing to calm down Davos and Tormund and to convince these both. But was he convinced himself? In one point Tormund was right. However you turn it Sansa had lied to him. Yes, he trusted her but nothing seemed to be over. He was mad because of her, he was furious. Sansa didn't trusted him enough to tell him everything. She didn't played with open cards. They were family at least to him.

Jon cleared out his throat. "Davos?"

"Aye. I guess Tormund is right but we still have to solve that Littlefinger problem."

"Ask Nan togive him a room." Jon sighed. "She shall make it up for him. And when you are showing him those room you're going to ask him how long he wants to stay."

Davos turned around. "Aye, Mylord."

Jon lifted an eyebrow and smiled. "I heared that. Do I like said and in the meantime I am going to talk to Sansa."