AN:/ Sorry for the long hiatus, life got in the way again. But lockdown has provided the opportunity to get back into writing. The final four chapters are planned and the end is in sight. This story will reach its conclusion by summer; I expect it to be much sooner but I don't want to promise it in case life gets in the way again. This chapter is a bit of a rollercoaster but it needs to be in preparation for the final chapters. The pace will pick up after this chapter. Also exciting news: this is the longest chapter I've written.

Chapter 22

The next three days passed in a blur for Sansa. There was no news from Roose's Northern Army and with very little to do, she was bored. Bored and worried. They had been preparing for a siege of Winterfell for weeks resulting in Sansa's role as Lady Bolton becoming very limited. With so much time on her hands, Sansa was forced to reflect on Roose's last words to her. That in turn, left her reflecting on the state of their marriage. Every single time things improved between her and Roose, something happened to drive a wedge between the two of them. Maybe someone was sending her a sign. The thought of it made her laugh. If someone was sending her a sign, they would've killed her husband by now. Unless… No, she refused to think about it. He was not going to die. Stannis would be defeated. Did she want that? He had vowed to annul her marriage and to make her warden of the North. She didn't want that. Sansa had stopped wanting titles a long time ago, had stopped wanting to be an important lady. All she wanted now was her family. But that had been taken from her again and again. She could've had a new family but that opportunity was robbed from her by her husband. Maybe having her marriage annulled wouldn't be so bad. There was no denying he was a monster but did she want her marriage to be over? What did it matter? There was no way of knowing who would win the battle.

"Don't worry, My Lady. The odds are in their favour." Lyanna Mormont pulled her out of her musing, they were dining in the great hall with the other ladies of the North.

The Lady of Bear Island appeared to be the only one not worried. Perhaps that was because she was unmarried or perhaps it was because she had the utmost faith in Roose's army. Either way, her presence was a comfort to Sansa. Despite the age gap, the two had much in common and had formed a very close bond over her time at Winterfell. She reminded Sansa of Arya in a way and that made Sansa miss her younger sister. Sansa hadn't seen her since the day her father was executed and she hoped if Arya was still alive, she never returned to Winterfell. She did not believe Roose would allow Arya to live, killing her siblings had become somewhat of a hobby for him. Gods their marriage was a mess. Was there normally this many dead bodies, this many wounds, this much baggage? Her parents made it look so easy but then their union hadn't resulted from the groom killing the bride's brother before the wedding. The thought caused her to laugh. Gods she had changed, she was not the girl who had left Kings Landing all those moons ago, and she certainly wasn't the girl who had left Winterfell all those years ago. Her marriage to Roose had saved her from the Lannisters but had condemned her in so many other ways. Did she want Stannis to win? Did she want her marriage to end? There were so many things wrong with it perhaps the best thing for her would be for Stannis to defeat Roose. But that left her future so uncertain. At least she wouldn't have to hate herself for how he made her feel in the bedroom. But was that enough for her to want it to be all over? Did what she wanted even matter? She had no control in what would happen and she couldn't change the outcome. It was pointless to dwell over it. No,she had to focus on the task at hand, she had to ensure Winterfell was ready for a siege if the war turned that way.

"Perhaps, but you haven't seen Stannis fight. He's good. He would've won at the Blackwater if Tywin Lannister and the Tyrells hadn't arrived." She finally replied. A few of the ladies exchanged nervous glances.

"Ah but My Lady, you forget, that was in the South. We're in the North and Stannis Baratheon does not know the North." The ladies were reassured by Lyanna's words and Sansa felt guilty for scaring them. In truth, their insipid worrying was starting to grate on her. Before long, she excused herself and went in search of more tolerable company.


Roose was annoyed. Stannis' army was a day's march away and they had camped for the night. He was sat with a few of the Northern lords, listening to the young Lord Glover tell Lord Forrester about the young lady he was courting. The boy was writing her poetry and it made Roose cringe. They were to fight Stannis Baratheon and he was writing poetry. Was this what the Red Wedding had done to the North? Had it left them with the idiots he was spending his evening with? If so, his plans for the future would not come to fruition.

But more pressing was the battle tomorrow. These idiots had best know how to use a sword. Even Roose could admit that the Red Wedding had been a mistake from a military point of view. That fact was reinforced as he looked at the lords with him. Too many of them were inexperienced, very few had fought in the War of the Five Kings and even fewer had been involved in Robert's rebellion. Still, it was the price he had to pay for his actions at the Twins. He didn't regret it for a second, how could he? It had given him Winterfell, given him the North and given him Sansa even if she was still annoyed at him. He smirked at the thought. Cersei Lannister couldn't have been more wrong about her and Roose was glad. Instead of an obedient, submissive wife, he had a fiery one who defied him at every turn and getting her to finally submit was so pleasurable. He smiled. Maybe he had wasted an opportunity and should've fucked her that last night at Winterfell. But she was still recovering from the miscarriage and forcing her to submit would've resulted in an irreparable void between them. No, he had made the right decision. He just needed to defeat Stannis and then he would take full advantage of Sansa, not that she would mind. Even when she was angry at him, her body would respond to his touch.

He remained with the men a little while longer before he returned to his tent. Tomorrow, they would face Stannis and he needed to be well rested. The sounds of the war camp woke him early the next day. Scouts had reported that Stannis was only a few hours away and the camp had immediately come to life, making the last preparations. There was a sense of dread and unspoken belief that they would lose. Despite the lack of military skill, Roose was feeling confident. They had more men and they knew the terrain; Stannis was outnumbered and in the wilderness. The odds were in their favour. But as he made his way through the camp and saw the worried expressions, he started to doubt. Maybe he would die here, maybe that was his punishment for killing Robb Stark: to die when he was so close to achieving everything he desired. The thought remained with him the rest of the morning, it remained with him as he mounted his horse and led the men to the location they had chosen as the site of the battle.

Stannis' army was well organised and larger than the reports had told him. Both were enough to enflame the doubts he already had. Maybe he would lose this battle. There was little time to dwell on it as the army approached his.

"Charge!" Roose ordered, pulling his horse into a gallop as he led the cavalry attack towards to advancing Baratheon Army. This was it, the North would be won or lost in that battle. His mind drifted to Sansa as his sword connected with that of Stannis.


"Lady Bolton… riders approach." Elmar Frey had found her in the library, where she was hiding from the rest of Winterfell's current inhabitants.

"What sigil do they carry?" The words rushed out of her mouth.

"I cannot yet say, my lady." The answer was irrelevant, as Lady Bolton she was expected to greet whoever it was on their arrival. She felt sick. What if it was Stannis... what would that mean... He wouldn't harm her but what would he do? Hesitantly, she left the library and made her way to the courtyard. The rest of the women who had been left behind whilst their husbands went to war were already waiting. Sansa took her place at the front and ordered the gate to be opened. If the Northern Army were retreating, they would need to be able to get to the security of Winterfell quickly. If Stannis had won, Sansa would be expected to give the keys of the castle to Stannis as a sign of allegiance and would be expected to bend the knee to the pretender king. The thought of doing so made her uneasy. She didn't know Stannis Baratheon, only knew of him and whilst she knew he was too honourable to harm her, he could very easily take advantage of her hospitality, force her to marry someone of his choosing to keep the North loyal to him or could demand she provide him with men for the war against the Lannisters.

Sansa was so wrapped up in her thoughts of what would happen if it was Stannis riding towards them and not her husband that she missed the first reveal of the sigil being carried.

"It's them, My Lady." Lyanna Mormont exclaimed beside her. Sansa stared into the distance and caught a glimpse of a familiar standard. A tidal wave of relief enveloped her as she saw the flayed man. For a moment, she was confused at the feeling but then she smiled. She had never wanted Stannis to win or release her from her marriage to begin with. Roose had just decided that for her and it had caused her to question what she actually wanted.

A second surge of relief washed over her as Roose brought his horse to a stop in front of her and dismounted.

"My Lady..." He removed his gloves and placed an arm around Sansa's waist.

"My Lord..."

"Stannis Baratheon is dead; we are victorious and Winterfell is safe." He placed a kiss to her cheek. The sudden contact made Sansa shiver; it was too intimate for how things were between them. Roose felt her apprehension and let her go. She stepped back.

"Congratulations on your victory, My Lord. I am glad you have returned safe."

"Are you?" he asked, scepticism evident in his voice bit he did not give her the chance to answer. Instead, he instructed his horse to be washed and fed and went indoors, leaving Sansa standing in the courtyard amongst the happily reunited Northerners. Eventually, she too returned indoors, there was a celebratory feast to organise.


Sansa had barely seen him since he had returned from battle earlier that day but now standing in their bedroom, there was desire in his eyes. She had thought he was avoiding her given what had transpired between them before he left but now, she knew that was not the case. A brief sense of relief washed over her. Perhaps, all was forgiven at least on his part. In the midst of dressing for the feast, Sansa was wearing only a slip as she waited for her maid to return. Suddenly aware of her vulnerable state, she grabbed her robe and went to put it on but Roose stopped her.

"Don't. Come here." She followed his instructions and walked towards him. He reached out an arm, and wrapped it around her waist. With his other hand, he undid the ties of the straps on her shoulders; the slip was now free to fall down her body, stopped only by Roose's arm around her.

"Roose, I have to dress for the feast." There was little fight in her voice, she knew resisting was futile.

"You are hosting the feast... it will wait." His lips moved to her neck, placing hurried kisses along her sensitive spot. Sansa felt her knees weaken at the touch. Resistance was definitely futile.

Roose tightened his grip on her waist pulling her towards him as his other hand moved down her side. The contact caused her to shiver as a moan escaped her lips.

"Gods I've missed that sound Sansa." She blushed at the comment but had little time to form a response as his hand now moved to between her legs. As Roose placed a finger into her, she was soaked. The door opened and Sansa's maid walked into the room, carrying the dress Sansa was intending to wear.

"Apologies, My Lord and Lady." The mortified maid exclaimed. Sansa blushed a deeper shade of pink but Roose paid little attention to the girl who had just interrupted them.

"Place the dress on the chair and leave. Lady Bolton will not require your assistance." Hurriedly the girl did as instructed and the door shut with a bang.

"Is your maid normally that rude?" Roose asked, returning to the assault on her clit. Sansa moaned before answering.

"No... She... just... Gods Roose... She just didn't expect you to... yes there... be doing this... in the... middle... middle... of... the day."

"It's hardly the middle of the day." Sansa was so close to her first orgasm when Roose pulled his fingers out. She groaned and he chuckled. "Patience."

He bent down, letting her slip finally fall to the floor. Then he lifted one leg over his shoulder and placed his mouth at her centre. His tongue zigzagged across her clit, the sensation bringing Sansa close to the edge. Roose felt her tense around him and stopped. Sansa groaned again.

"Sansa... I've been gone for five days... I'm going to make this last." She pouted but had little time to reply as he returned his mouth to her clit, this time sucking. Sansa moaned, the noise almost animalistic and Roose laughed. The vibration was enough to bring her over the edge and the sensation of her first orgasm washed over her.

"Gods Roose." Sansa said through ragged breaths. The man certainly knew how to undo her.

"If you don't want me to ravish you right here, I suggest you go to the bed." Sansa didn't care where they did it, she just needed him inside of her. Desire had taken over her and she was no longer in control of her body. She didn't move. Roose smirked; Sansa was certainly getting bold. They had only ever done it in their bed. The prospect of doing it somewhere else excited him. The prospect of having a wife who enjoyed having sex with him excited him.

"Very well." Sansa blinked, what had she just agreed to? She wasn't sure but if it was going to give her the pleasure she craved, she didn't care. Roose stood up, discarded his breeches and underclothes before wrapping both of Sansa's legs around his waist. His mouth returned to her neck as he moved them backwards towards the wall. Sansa's back collided with the stone, moving her forward in his grip. She could feel his hard cock between her legs but he was yet to enter her. His mouth was moving down her body, devouring her as it went and leaving her skin burning in its wake. Sansa rocked herself forward, desperate for contact. Roose growled at her desperation but would not satisfy her yet.

"Roose please."

"No yet, I want you begging for it."

"I am begging." He laughed. She was dripping wet now. She wanted him, nor needed him inside of her. Still he wouldn't budge. His mouth was on her sternum now. Sansa rolled her head back in ecstasy at the thought of what his mouth had done moments earlier. Gods she needed him.

"Rooooose please." Her frustration was evident in her voice. The desperation was making him come undone, a few more minutes and he would not be able to stop himself from entering her. But right now, he was enjoying her being a quivering wreck. Who'd thought Sansa would be so desperate for his touch? He was momentarily reminded of Robb, the king he had killed. What would your king say if he saw you fucking his sister? Was this what you wanted when you went to war for your liege Lord then murdered his son? Quickly, he cast the thought out of his mind. Sansa was a mess now, torn between the anticipation of what was to come and the frustration that it hadn't happened yet.

"Roose... please... I'm begging you. I need you inside of me." With that, Roose was more than happy to oblige. He thrust inside of her, slow at first. God's she was wet. Sansa gasped at finally getting what she wanted. This spurned him on and he sped up. Sansa rocked forward meeting him thrust for thrust. He felt so good and she was so close to a second orgasm. Feeling her tense around him, he sped up, his only focus was now to bring her to it. Roose's speed was starting to hurt her, she felt like he was about to tear her apart but she didn't care. She was so close. Finally, her walls contracted around Roose and she was swept away on a wave of pleasure. But Roose kept going, kept pushing in and out of her and Sansa could feel a second wave about to follow the first. She was moaning uncontrollably now as Roose brought her so close to another orgasm.

"Roose please..." One more thrust and she came again. His climax followed hers. He remained inside of her for a few moments before he placed her legs back on the floor and stepped away from her.

"You have a feast to get ready for." He teased; Sansa groaned in frustration. Did he really expect her to host a feast after that? Her legs were still unsteady as he helped her dress. Gods that had been amazing. One thing was certain, she was a fool for thinking she could give this up.

The feast that night was filled with celebration and joy; Roose had led the North to victory after a hard-fought battle and now it was time to celebrate. Sansa watched in awe as the men she had known all her life commemorated and toasted the man who had killed her brothers. It was a sight she never thought she'd see; it was one thing to swear allegiance and unite underneath him, it was another to be celebrating him. This was how it was supposed to be: a united North under a strong Lord of Winterfell and beside him a gracious wife who commanded the respect and allegiance of the Lords of North. This was the life she was supposed to have as the lady of a great house and a marriage to a powerful man. She had certainly taken the long way to get there but it was where she was meant to be. Gods, she really was a fool for thinking she could give this up. Maybe this could be a new start for them, a blank canvas upon which they could create something worth having.


"My Lord, where might I find Lady Bolton?" It was Elmar Frey. Roose was in the training yard watching Ser Banefoot practicing with a few of the men.

"I haven't seen her all morning. For what, do you need her?"

"The maester sent me to give her this." He gestured to the letter in his hand. "It arrived this morning by raven, it's from the Wall." Roose narrowed his eyes. The wall? It could only be from one person. Word of Stannis' defeat would have reached the Wall and Jon Snow would know that his previous promises to Sansa had been futile. Perhaps that's what the letter was about or perhaps the content would reveal something else.

"I'll see Lady Bolton gets it." Roose replied, reaching his hand out. Hesitantly, Elmar Frey handed over the letter. Once the boy had left, Roose opened it. He was angered by what he found. So, she had disobeyed him, she had gone against his direct instruction and replied to Jon Snow's letter. Why did she insist on disobeying him? Why did she refuse to do as he instructed? He was beginning to lose his patience with her. How dare she defy him. Sansa Stark had crossed him too many times. This time he would put his foot down. This time she would learn just what happened to those that defied him.

"Do you think me a fool?" His tone was harsh. Sansa blinked several times in confusion. She felt like a child again being berated by her father. Before she could respond, he threw a letter on the desk. She recognised the hand at once, it was Jon. Oh gods, he knew.

"I expressly forbade you from replying to your half-brother." Sansa swallowed. "You don't deny that you disobeyed me?"

"No." It sounded pathetic but she was too scared. She had never seen him this angry.

"Sansa, you are my wife. I warned you what would happen if you crossed me again. I do not wish to limit your freedom. But clearly I can't trust you."

"Limit my freedom?" she swallowed. Surely, he didn't mean? He wouldn't lock her up, would he?

"You are no longer allowed to write to anyone." That was little punishment, there were very few people who she could write to: Margaery hadn't replied to her last letter, Lord Baelish frequently wrote to her and she replied out of politeness but that was all, then there was Jon. The last living member of her family. Her last connection to happy times before she'd gone to Kings Landing and everything had gone wrong. Still, her and Jon had never been that close. Perhaps it wouldn't be that much of a miss.

"And you will no longer have the freedom to do as you please. If you wish to go outside the castle, you will seek my permission and you will not go anywhere alone." Sansa felt tears pricking the corner of her eyes. Don't cry, don't let him know it's affected you. But affected her, it had. She was to be a caged bird in her own home, her childhood home. Still she wouldn't cry.

"Cross me again Sansa and you will find your freedom even more restricted."


"My Lord, a rider has arrived from the Wall." Roose was still in the Great Hall with Lord Umber. Sansa had long gone to bed and he wanted to join her but there were things that needed to be discussed between himself and Lord Umber before he returned North.

"Send him in." He instructed the servant before turning his attention back to Lord Umber. "Lord Frey wishes to be of assistance."

"Does he? I would've thought he was too busy sacking Riverrun to be of assistance."

"I'm sure we can find a use for him." At that the two men laughed. Roose did indeed have a use for Walder Frey but that would come later.

The messenger was not one that Roose recognised but he was carrying Locke's knife as proof that he had been sent by Roose's best hunter.

"You bring news from Locke?"

"He has been successful in his hunt; do you wish for him to return with the treasure or do you wish it to be left beyond the wall?" It had not taken Locke as long to find Bran as he had anticipated.

"I will have an answer for you tomorrow. Go to the kitchens, they will feed you and give you a bed for the night." The man quickly left. A dumbfounded Lord Umber turned to Roose in confusion.

"So… Bran Stark is alive and beyond the wall."

"Interesting… what will you do?"

"The Starks are proving to be a throne in my side."

"I bet you thought killing Robb and marrying Lady Bolton would be the end of it." Lord Umber laughed.

"Not exactly, I just didn't expect to have another resurface every time I had dealt with one."

"So, you'll kill him?"

"Bran Stark is a threat to my claim to the North. The threat needs removed." The ease with which Roose said that made Lord Umber shiver. But Roose was not at ease. His marriage was already in ruins, if Sansa was ever to find out he'd killed her younger brother, there would be no way of fixing things. If he was going to do it, she could never find out. It had to be a decision he made on his own with only Locke and himself knowing about it. The obvious thing to do, would be to have Locke kill him but could he do that to Sansa? He needed to make the decision without appearing weak in front of Lord Umber so he excused himself from the great hall under the pretence of taking his wife to bed.

Roose had almost reached his bedroom when he was stopped by the Maester. "My Lord, there's a second missive from the Wall, this one sent by raven from Alliser Thorne. It brings troubling news."

"What news?" Exhaustion laced his tone.

"Jon Snow, the new commander…" Roose grimaced at the name. "He let wildings beyond the wall. He's betrayed the Nights Watch." Roose sighed in frustration. He had been naïve enough to think that Sansa's troublesome family would stop causing problems for them.

"Fantastic… send word to the wall demanding the arrest and transfer to Winterfell of the Lord Commander." The fates of Sansa's brothers were in his hands. Jon Snow's actions had just made the Bran decision harder. But with regards to Sansa's half-brother, his hands were tied. That was a matter of law and there was very little he could do about it. He would of course have to tell her but that could wait for now; it had been a long day and he needed to sleep.


Sansa was panicking. Roose had sent for her to join him after she had broken her fast. He never did that unless he had something important to discuss with her or needed to reprimand her for something. She couldn't remember doing anything to annoy him so it had to be the former. Unless she had done something, but he already knew about her letter to Jon so there was little that it could be. Maybe he had realised that he had been too harsh on her the day before and he was going to apologise. No, that wasn't it, Roose Bolton did not apologise.

Sansa checked her appearance in the mirror one last time before leaving the room. How she looked didn't really matter but if she had done something wrong, perhaps Roose would be more forgiving if she was attractive. Gods when had she become a simpering idiot? No, how she looked was irrelevant, she would take whatever the punishment was. You don't know it is for a punishment yet, a small voice told her. But it gave Sansa the strength she needed to open the door. A guard was station outside her door, Roose had meant what he said, she was not to be alone. She glowered at the man before proceeding down the corridor. He tried to start a conversation with her but she ignored him. Why did he need to know where she was going? They would end up there soon enough. Sansa took the longest route possible to get to Roose's study but regretted it when she got there and a servant was bringing lemon cakes out of the room. Foregoing all courtesy, Sansa walked into the room without knocking. Roose narrowed his eyes at the action but said nothing. This was going to be a difficult conversation; he did not need to make it harder by antagonizing her. Sansa, on the other hand, did not know where her sudden boldness had come from but she was grateful for it. Roose might have restricted her freedom but was wasn't going to be weakened by it. She sat in her usual seat as he watched her very move.

"I had expected you to be here long before now."

"I overslept."

"Indeed." He mused but said nothing further on it. Silence passed between the two as Roose contemplated how to tell her about Jon Snow. He walked around the desk to stand in front of her, ready to comfort her if needed. Sansa narrowed her eyes. This was not good. Only serious conversations happened with him stood in front of her like that. What had she done?

"Sansa..." He started, unsure of how to tell her. "I have received disturbing news from the Nights Watch." She groaned inside, where was this going and why was he telling her?

"It's about your half-brother." Sansa swallowed. An overwhelming dread rolled over her. She began silently and frantically praying to anyone who would listen, that Jon was not dead.

"It seems he is a traitor to the Nights Watch." He took no delight in telling her the news. The colour had drained from her face.

"A traitor?" She knew what the punishment was; she had witnessed many heated conversations between her parents about her father letting Robb and then Bran go with him as he delivered the sentence.

"He led Wildings beyond the Wall. He intends to let them live South of the Wall."

"Wildings? Jon let Wildings come beyond the Wall?"

"Yes Sansa." She was speechless. He wouldn't, would he? Jon was even more honourable than her father, surely, he wouldn't betray his vows.

"There must be some mistake."

"I've sent for your brother but I do not believe there was a mistake. Sansa, I'm telling you so you can prepare yourself."

"Prepare myself?" She almost asked what for, but the realisation hit her and what little colour had returned to her face, had gone again. "No, you can't..."

"Sansa, I have to. It's the law."

"How fleetingly you cling to the law when it suits you." Roose raised his eyebrows at her. "Killing your liege lord and king is against the law." She knew she'd gone too far as soon as the words left her mouth.

"I'm going to let that slide because you're upset." His voice was deathly quiet and fear crept over her. She had definitely gone too far. "Ser Garytt..." Roose called to the man outside the door, who opened it and entered the room. So that was his name.

"Would you escort Lady Bolton back to her rooms. She's had some upsetting news and needs to lie down." Sansa scowled at him. How dare he! She would not be silenced on the matter.

"Of course, Lord Bolton."

Roose raised an eyebrow at her, daring her to challenge him. She narrowed her eyes at him. Did he really expect her to go along with this? He didn't budge and Sansa realised she would have to accept defeat, for now at least. Reluctantly, she turned away from her husband, walked to the door, pried it open and left the room leaving a shocked Roose in her stead.


There was only one thing to do, only one way of saving Jon. It had to be done. Sansa had spent the best part of the day going back and forth on her plan and there was no other way. But the thought of what she was reducing herself to made her feel sick. Cersei had always said that a woman's best weapon was between her legs and she was about to find out how true that was. That was exactly how she came to be outside Roose's study dressed in barely anything. Sansa had been standing there for some time; every time she lifted her hand to knock, she chickened out. Fortunately, there were no guards on duty tonight. Taking one last shaky breath, she placed her hand on the door and knocked.

"Enter." His voice was rough. Hesitantly, she pushed the door open and walked in. Roose was focused on the piece of parchment in his hand, giving Sansa a chance to gain her composure and push her nerves and insecurities deep down. Slowly, she walked towards his desk, stopping in front of it. Roose looked up at the movement and frowned when he noticed she was only wearing a robe. He hadn't realised it was that late.

"Sansa… if you've come to ask me to spare your half-brother… you know I can't…"

"I haven't…"

"I have to dispense the King's justice… he betrayed the Nights Watch… you know what that means." Roose stood up and walked around the desk so he was in front of her. Sansa swallowed. This was it. She slowly untied the belt around her waist and let the garment drop. He caught it before it fell to the ground.

"Well well… what have we here?" Roose teased, tightening his grip on her robe. Sansa blushed. "It seems you did miss your husband after all." His voice was causing heat to pool between her legs. She needed to take back control.

"I certainly missed something." She felt sick, sounding like a whore but she needed to if this was going to work.

"You know Sansa, if you're going to attempt to seduce me… you best be able to deliver…" He pulled her towards him. A gasp escaped her lips. His free hand ran down her body and she shivered at the touch.

"It seems I have a wanton wife." Sansa didn't reply. Instead, she took hold of his free hand and guided it further down her body to the hem of the robe. Then she guided it under the thin material, up her thighs and between her legs. Roose raised his eyebrows in surprise at his suddenly very bold wife. She smirked, challenging him. Rising to the challenge, Roose placed two fingers inside of her. Sansa gasped at the contact and he chuckled.

"A very wanton wife..."

Sansa let go of his wrist and turned her attention to the laces on his breeches. As Roose's fingers teased her centre, eliciting moan after moan from her, Sansa made short work of removing his clothing. Stay in control. She told herself as a gasp left her mouth. She had to stay in control for this to work. At risk of submitting to him completely, Sansa pulled his hand out from between her legs and slowly bent down to her knees. Roose looked at her in complete bewilderment as she took his already hard cock in her mouth. The very idea of it made her gag but she pushed all thoughts and feelings aside and focused on the task at hand: his loss of control. And so, she licked and teased the organ.

After a few moments, Sansa pulled back to catch her breath and start the next phase of her plan. Roose groaned at the loss of contact and running his fingers through her hair, he guided her mouth back to where he wanted it. But before she obliged him, she spoke.

"I came to ask my husband for a favour." She said before gently licking the tip.

"Sansa... don't play games with me..." She looked up at him demurely. "I know exactly why you're here and what you're doing." Sansa swallowed. "It won't work. I cannot pardon Jon Snow." Her body froze. He wouldn't do it? The entire thing had been for nothing. She had reduced herself to a common whore for nothing. She stood up and took a step away from him.

"You won't? You will condemn the only family member I have left?"

"He broke the law. He has condemned himself. I cannot pardon him."

Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes but she would not cry in front of him.

"I understand." She said, her tone faltering slightly, before turning away from him and walking towards the door. But Roose caught her wrist and turned her back around to face him.

"My Lady, I told you, if you're going to try and seduce me, you had best deliver." Sansa wanted to scream at him, wanted to hit him, anything. He'd known her plan all along and had made her go through with it. Instead, she pried her arm from his grip and stormed out of the room. He didn't follow her.


"I already have a manipulative wife, perhaps you might spare me the embarrassment of a drunk wife this evening." His words cut like ice though her as the servant refilled her glass for the fourth time that evening. Sansa narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Roose was refusing to look at her. Perhaps she had gone too far the night before. He had been avoiding her all day and the only times that she had seen him, when he physically couldn't avoid her, he would not look at her. Was he angry? Or was it more than that? Had she wounded him? She wasn't sure but she was not going to apologise for trying to save Jon. How could she? He was her brother and she had failed to save him. No, she hadn't failed, Roose was a monster and there was no reasoning with him.

"Perhaps if a husband didn't refuse to listen to reason, a wife wouldn't have to use manipulation." Roose laughed at her response, it was a hollow laugh. There was a coldness to it which matched his demeanour.

"Reason? It's the law." His tone was exasperated, as though he was tired from having this fight but Sansa was not prepared to give up.

"Is it? How many times have you broken the law, Lord Bolton?"

"Sansa, I swear to the gods, if you keep testing me, I will break the law again." She felt like she had been slapped. Had he just threatened to kill her?

"Perhaps you should then you would be free to marry someone who might actually grace you with a child." She knew it was below the belt, Roose was in desperate need of an heir but it was the only leverage she had. Besides the hurt it caused, if any, would be nowhere near the pain he kept causing her.

He didn't reply to her, instead he ignored her all evening. Sansa was relieved that Lord and Lady Karstark were still at Winterfell. It gave her someone to talk to during Roose's wall of silence and for a few hours, at least, helped her to forget everything that was going on. Her and Lady Karstark reminisced about the times before the War of the Five Kings and Lady Karstark told Sansa stories about her mother that she had not heard before. For the first time in a long time, she smiled a genuine smile. Forgotten were the problems in her marriage, the restrictions on her freedom and Roose's coldness as she was caught up in the past and engulfed in the warmth of bittersweet memories.


Sansa had gone to bed early and Roose was on his own in the great hall. Many of his vassal lords had returned to their homes and Winterfell was quiet without them. It was quiet with him and Sansa at odds again. How dare she play him the way she had last night! Did she really think she could use to get him to do what she wanted? Was she really that naïve? He wasn't angry at her for trying it, nor he was angry because she hadn't gone through with it. Perhaps he shouldn't have made her whore herself out when he knew exactly what she wanted, but he wanted to see how far she would go. Besides he had missed her. Gods what was happening to him? Could it be that his disobedient yet courteous wife had wormed her way not only into his life but his heart too? It had hurt him when she had rejected him. He couldn't even pretend she had wounded his pride; it was more than that. Oh gods. There was no denying it. He was in love with Sansa Stark.