Winterfell was a grand castle complex spanning several acres and protected by two massive walls. There were dozens of courtyards and small open spaces. The small village outside it was called the winter town and there was an ancient godswood surrounding it. There were also natural hot springs that were piped all along the castle to keep it warm and comfortable all through the harshest and mildest of winters.

That was everything Stannis had told the young woman. Hope personally found Winterfell tall, imposing, and kind of depressing. The people living inside the castle were afraid, some were scarred while others looked like they had given on themselves and just lived some routine life. But there was magic in this place, Hope could feel it on her. It made goosebumps appear all over her body. It was ancient, powerful, and sentient in a sense. It was watching her she knew, studying her closely.

Stannis stood in the courtyard and Hope stood silently beside him. On each side of them were the lords and knights that were still loyal to Stannis and before them, all were the people who had been captured. Three were what Hope would consider high profile prisoners.

One was Roose Bolton, an average height man with a plain face, a balding head, and short fingers. His eyes were pale and anyone that was not Hope or Stannis would feel intimidated by them. He wore a dark mail with a similar dark cloak.

The other of the three was Sansa Stark, a beautiful woman with high cheekbones, vivid blue eyes, and thick auburn hair that was a shade darker than Hope's hair. She was tall, much taller than Hope, held herself with a grace that was to be expected of a lady, and had a womanly figure. Though not as womanly as Hope's own.

The last of them was Theon Greyjoy, a shell of the man he once was. He smelt of shit and filth, had hair that went white from torture by the looks of it, and the gloves he wore indicated that some of his fingers were missing from both hands. His eyes seemed the most broken compared to the rest that Hope saw here. There was a haunted look in them, fear, regret, and an odd determination. An odd combination Hope admitted to herself.

"Your bastard is dead and the men that followed him have joined him in that fate," Stannis spat at Roose, "and now we must decide what to do with you."

"Why don't you offer us to your barbaric god?" Roose's voice barely held any emotions, but the words had made many men on Stannis' side bristle and call for his head. "You already have your red mistress with you," he turned those pale eyes on Hope, who rolled her eyes in reply, "Lady Melisandre if I'm not mistaken."

"You are" Hope said simply, her face morphing into a mask void of any emotions. "I'm no red priestess either."

"You don't look like anything but a red priestess" the Warden of The North spoke.

He isn't wrong, Hope thought. She was dressed in one of Melisandre's robes, wore an ornate pulsing ruby around her neck, and held herself similar to how the priestess had held herself. When did I allow the woman to make me into a copy of her?

"Feed him to the fire Lady Hope!" one of the knights under Stannis spoke. He was the same knight that had doubted her before the short battle. Oh how time changes people, Hope thought.

"No," Hope shook her head, much to the surprise of the rest, "I believe Lord Bolton here had a thing for skinning people alive."

"Hope" Stannis who had caught on to what Hope was planning gave her a startled look. Hope met his eyes coolly, flecks of amber still present in them.

"It is only fair that he be treated the same way he has treated people," she said softly. Then her eyes went to the side where the remainder of The Bolton men knelt. "Have his men do it. Post a few guards so they can make sure the deed is being done. If anyone refuses, take a hot iron poker and hit them with it. Make sure they too are shirtless so the strikes leave a mark."

Stannis found he was a little unnerved by the decision Hope had given. His eyes searched what he could see of her face and found no signs of her joking. He turned to Roose, who did not look any different from before. But Stannis was sure the man's heart must have been racing even a little.

"What about Lady Sansa and Theon?" one of the men on Stannis' side asked. But the question was posed at Hope rather than Stannis. Something the man noticed and clenched his jaws at.

"Not my call" the priestess turned to Stannis and gave him a small smile. "You're king of this castle. Choose what you want to do with them."

Stannis cleared his throat and looked to the man who had asked. "Lady Sansa is our guest and as promised will be kept safe and comfortable until her brother can come and meet her" he explained. The statement had Sansa go stiff for a moment. Hope met her eyes and gave her a reassuring smile. But the woman had not reacted to the smile.

"If it pleases your grace," Hope spoke softly, calling on the tidbits of lessons that Melisandre had given her at proper etiquette, "I would like to take Lady Sansa to the godswood with me."

Stannis gave a small nod and Hope took a step back. Sansa was hesitant at first, but a look at Theon and a nod from him made her come to Hope. The two women walked in silence, Hope to let Sansa lead the way. The godswood was silent, dark and Hope had the distinct feeling that she was being watched by someone or something. At the very center of the godswood was what was known as the heart tree, with a face carved on the trunk that made it look like the tree was weeping. Sansa stopped right under the tree and Hope a few paces behind her.

"Is it true what they say?" the Stark lady asked.

"Depends on what they say" the Mikaelson lady answered.

"That you single-handedly took down Ramsay and his army" Sansa turned to look at Hope. "That you conjured a wall of fire and burned them all to ash and bones."

The tone of disbelief was not lost on Hope. Sansa heard the rumors, but she did not believe in them. So to prove to her, Hope conjured a ball of fire in her hand. Sansa's eyes widened and she stumbled back against the heart tree.

"I will not harm you Lady Sansa" Hope assured her, the fire vanishing from the palm of her hands. "You will be safe and comfortable here. I promise you that."

"What about Theon?" the girl asked with a little hope in her eyes. "What will you do to him?"

"That is up to the king to decide" Hope spoke, "he is the king and Theon is his prisoner after all."

"Please don't let him kill Theon" the girl approached and to the surprise of Hope, took her hands and gave them a tight squeeze. Hope was at a loss, this entire part catching her off guard. She was in the belief that Theon was the reason Sansa's youngest brothers were dead. Yet here she was, begging for him to be spared.

"I will be sure to relay the request to King Stannis" Hope gave a nod and Sansa smiled. She stepped away from Hope and looked to the heart tree. "My father spent a lot of time here. He said that this place gave him the clarity and the silence he needed when his mind was clouded by many thoughts. My mother and I never really came down here. I don't know about my mother, but this place scared me back then. I used to worship the seven and always pray to them. Ironically it was the one prayer I made to the old gods that were granted over everything. I wanted Ramsay dead and wanted his father to suffer a fate worse than that for killing my mother and older brother."

Sansa turned to Hope, who looked at her with an unreadable expression. "I'm sorry I'm unloading so much on you. I heard that Melisandre burned the godswood at Dragonstone when she went there-"

"And you want to make sure the same doesn't happen here" Hope finished for her and the woman gave a small nod. "I will not burn this place down and I won't let anyone do it. You have my promise" Hope assured her and gave her a wide smile.

"What do we do now?" the woman asked after a beat of pause.

"Now," Hope looked from Sansa to the heart tree and could have sworn that the tree was looking back at her, "we send a raven to your brother at the wall and let him know of what happened here."