The time for battle had come. Davos had secured Emmelyne armor; from where, she did not know or care. She hadn't told Jon of her plans. She'd left that job to Davos. When he returned, he explained that Jon was furious but he would allow Emmelyne to fight if that was what she wanted.
Emmelyne stood among the troops. She was the only one with a bow who would be fighting in the vanguard, though she had a sword as well, just in case. Jon rode to the front of the army, catching Emmelyne's gaze as she passed. She nodded at him, and he nodded in return. When he reached the head of the army, he slowed his horse to a stop, staring in horror. Wooden planks were crossed into an x shape. Flayed corpses were tied to the planks of wood, then lit on fire. Emmelyne could smell burning flesh from her spot.
Across the field stood the Bolton troops, the flayed man waving in breeze. Their shields were painted with a flayed man. Ramsay rode to the head of his army, leading Rickon on a rope leash. He hopped down from his horse, walking further out. When he had reached his spot, he drew his sword, raising it high in the air. Emmelyne lowered her head, waiting for the moment when he killed Rickon. Jon leaped down off of his horse, running forward. Rickon closed his eyes, his head bowed. But when Ramsay lowered his sword, he did not kill Rickon. He cut the ropes bound to his wrists. Emmelyne looked up, eyebrows furrowed. She slowly moved to Jon's side.
Ramsay smiled slightly as he spoke to Rickon. "Do you like games, little man? Let's play a game. Run to your brother and sister. The sooner you make it to them, the sooner you get to see them again. That's it. That's the game. Easy. Ready? Go."
He pushed Rickon forward.
Emmelyne tried to focus on seeing what would happen. Rickon was running. He was almost to Jon. Ramsay's arrows were barely missing him. "Em!" he cried, reaching out to grab her hand.
An arrow flew through his chest.

She stiffened, trying her best to think of a solution. Rickon slowly started walking forward. "No," Ramsay told him, "you have to run, remember? Those are the rules."
A man stepped to Ramsay's side, handing him a bow. Emmelyne thought about how Rickon was running. He ran in a straight line in her vision, so if he ran in all different directions, perhaps he could dodge the arrows.
The moment Rickon saw the bow, he began to run. Jon spun around, climbing up onto his horse. Ramsay took the bow, nocking an arrow. Emmelyne's own bow felt heavy on her shoulder. "Hyah!" Jon cried, urging his horse forward.
Tormund stepped to the front of the army, watching nervously. Emmelyne focused on Ramsay, seeing where he was aiming. The first arrow missed Rickon by a foot, but she knew this was only a test. Ramsay nocked another arrow. Jon continued forcing his horse forward, and Emmelyne hurried for her horse as well.
Rickon looked small as he ran across the field. Ramsay didn't look when he loosed this arrow. "Rickon, go right!" Emmelyne cried, urging her horse forward as fast as it could.
He followed the advice, just barely avoiding the arrow. "Come on!" she was shouting.
Another arrow was nocked. Jon reached down, preparing to grab Rickon. This arrow landed in front of Rickon, who trampled it underfoot. Jon looked at Emmelyne, pulling back just enough to let her go ahead of him. Her horse whinnied loudly, and she reached down, prepared to grab Rickon.
"Go left!" she screamed as another arrow sailed toward him.
He swerved left, the arrow grazing his arm. Ramsay's face flashed with anger. She swept Rickon up on to her horse. Emmelyne let out a cry of joy. She did it. She'd made sure Rickon survived. "Em!" he cried.
She laughed softly, letting her horse slow to a halt. "Get off," she instructed. "Run back as far from the field as you can. Don't come back until someone has won."
"What if Ramsay wins?" the young boy asked, a fearful look in his brown eyes.
She shook her head. "He won't, Rickon. I promise."
But she couldn't promise it. She'd had no vision. Didn't know how the battle was going to unfold. Rickon began to climb from the horse's back. "Did you see? Did you see us winning?"
Emmelyne's smile faded, and she blew hair out of her face. "Yes," she said, after a long pause. "That's what I saw. Now get running, Rickon. We don't want you getting hurt."
He smiled at her, turning and sprinting off toward the direction of their army.
It was then that Emmelyne realized she was in the center of the field, Ramsay staring her down, his blue eyes burning with rage. He was shaking, eying her with an intensity that shook Emmelyne to her core. She tried to mask her fear. The Bolton and Stark eyes locked together, and Emmelyne smiled.