Chapter Twenty

Three's a Crowd

Brienne of Tarth waited as patiently as she could just outside the door of the largest chambers in Winterfell. Therein stayed the last remaining pure-blooded Stark, Sansa Stark, whom had claimed the bedchambers of her deceased parents for herself when she had returned to her ancestral home after the Battle of the Bastards.

Before that Roose Bolton had taken those quarters upon himself when he had joined the Lannisters in the treasonous murder of the former, short-lived King of the North, Rob Stark. The man had no qualm about laying his head on the bed of the very family he had so villainously betrayed, and as far as Brienne saw, Ramsay followed in the footsteps of his father.

That Sansa actually allowed him to stay in her very own bedchambers, and according to the rumors of the servants, even within the confines of her bed caused Brienne a sort of panic for which she had no recourse. After all, it remained her solemn pledge to the late Catelyn Stark that she would keep her daughters safe.

Of Arya Stark Brienne knew sadly little, as the young girl had run off during Brienne's pitched battle with the Hound, but ever since Brienne had found Sansa alive and well in the company of that snake Petyr Baelish, she had been elated with the chance to try and keep her oath and secure the safety of at least one Stark daughter.

When Brienne had learned of the arrest and trial conducted by Sansa for Petyr, she had been relieved to see that her and her half-brother Jon were at least wise to the deceitful ways of that man, but the news that she had spared him a quick death despite all of the crimes he was convicted of, and after all of her leniency with Ramsay Bolton… not to mention this news that Brienne had overheard from several gossiping nobles concerning Sansa actually giving Ramsay the Stark moniker... Brienne could only assume that Sansa had been hurt so badly by one or both of those men that she had taken leave of her senses, that she no longer had the ability to discern the danger she put herself in.

And, of course Jon did not make things any easier with the way that he had pandered to her every demand concerning Ramsay. Now that Jon was gone things were even worse, thought Brienne; before he might have allowed much out of misguided kindness for his ailing sister, but now Sansa had full authority of Winterfell, and there was no one to keep her in check.

She had been listening to the council of vipers for so long that she had learned to distance herself from council, which was good, but Brienne feared that Sansa only took council in herself these days, and worried that Sansa would not listen to reason if it presented itself an obstacle to whatever plans she might have for the two villains.

Brienne thought on these things as she paced back and forth before the door, her plated boots making a muffled scuffing noise on the carpet below, and worried lines creasing her pale brow. She had waited until Ramsay proved to be away from the room to come, but now that she was here she hesitated, unable to summon the needed resolve.

Convincing leaders required skill with words. Brienne had met many persons now who had that ability in spades, but she had always found herself to be somewhat lacking in the ability to convince others with words alone. She had confronted several of the guard and the Maester, but no one else was interested in drawing the ire of the lady Stark.

She was without allies in what was seeming to become an increasingly bleak scenario of dealing with a young woman whose traumas and hardships had driven her mad. Brienne had briefly considered killing both Petyr and Ramsay. It would not have been terribly difficult given the level of trust merited to Brienne, but that same trust kept her from that route.

Regardless of what Brienne might think on the matter, Sansa would have seen such action as betrayal, and given the obviously tattered nature of Sansa's ability to trust others, Brienne could not bear the thought of being the person who broke Sansa of her ability to trust completely. Not to mention the terrible, permanent stain on her honor such an act would be.

So instead of taking action, which was and always had been Brienne's preferred method of dealing with any problem or obstacle, she paced here, torn over what might occur given that she had no way to directly confront the issue at hand without also potentially making the matter even worse than it already was.

She glanced over at the door, taking a deep breath and steadying her resolve; she didn't have all day to make a choice. Soon enough Ramsay would return or Sansa would leave making it more difficult to speak alone… on that note it suddenly occurred to Brienne that she had not heard the slightest of sounds from behind the door.

It was true that the walls were of thick stone and that the door was of solid oak, but in the silence now Brienne's already inflated sense of danger got the best of her and she laid a hand across the pommel of her great sword as she hurriedly rushed into the room. Her gazed flitted quickly about to take in the items of furniture and a smoldering fire in the hearth.

The room was empty. Brienne let out another sigh, feeling foolish for becoming so worked up about an interview that wasn't even possible. She had assumed the lady of the keep would be here, but in her absence, Brienne recalled belatedly that Sansa had been rising early of late to direct the efforts of the people here against both the coming battle and the winter itself.

Brienne might have thought of this before, but she could only assume that her distracted thinking on how to confront Sansa had her so wrapped up that she had overlooked the simple detail of where and when she might do so. She had seen Ramsay in the courtyard and come here on the hopes of such a meeting without thinking it through fully.

She turned, intending to leave and see if perhaps she could obtain an audience with Sansa elsewhere, only to pause at the sight of Ramsay lurking in the doorway. He frowned at her, "What exactly are you doing in my room?"

Brienne's lip curled back into an unpleasant expression and she replied gruffly, "I was checking upon the safety of my lady in her room. I could ask you much the same question, bastard."

Ramsay blinked. He had never actually exchanged words with Brienne of Tarth before, though he had heard she was quite blunt, he had never expected her to outright insult him. Not to mention that her statement boldly refuted his right to the Stark name, and there was no way that a person like Brienne had not been informed of his current station.

His nose wrinkled in disdain for the armored woman who proved so very disrespectful. Despite how odd it might feel to defend his new Stark title of all things, Ramsay was driven along nonetheless by his need to one up this troublesome woman, "Probably because I am married to her and this is where I share my bed with the lady Stark."

Brienne's eyes narrowed, and Ramsay smiled in the usual way he did when he managed to get under someone's skin, grinning from ear to ear. She suddenly surged forward though, causing him to startle and nearly fall over himself as she pressed in close to him much faster than her armored frame would suggest possible.

As his wide blue eyes stared up at her, she intoned a whispered threat as her own glare bore down upon him from her great height now seeming that much greater for her proximity, "Watch yourself. You are no wolf of the north any more than I am. I know you for the snake that you are; do not give me reason to make it any clearer."

With one big gauntleted hand she grabbed him by the shoulder, shoving him discourteously from her path as she made her way out of the room. Ramsay's mouth became a tight line as his nostrils flared at the sight of her retreating form and how she disregarded him so easily, but he was still too surprised to make comment as she took her leave.

As Brienne walked the halls of the keep looking for where Sansa had gotten herself to that she might have that much-needed discussion with her, she chided herself for allowing herself to show Ramsay so much of her distaste for him. It wouldn't help her to antagonize him, yet she felt a bit lighter for it anyway; it had felt good to see fear upon his face, if even for a moment.

***…***

"But milady, he is a danger to you and all you hold dear. Both of them are." Brienne did not have to expound on whom the other person was in 'both of them'. She had been heatedly discussing Petyr Baelish's continued ability to draw air with Sansa, and though it might well be a mistake to put her on the defensive concerning both men, Brienne felt she had to say it.

She had discovered Sansa near the war room; apparently the last lady of castle Winterfell had been discussing strategies for the continued defense of the place with the captains of both the remaining Watch forces and those of the Veil left behind to assist her by a grateful Robyn of Ayrn. Brienne had asked for a private conference.

Sansa had moved their talk to a nearby room, but had insisted that her councilors that yet hovered, were to be privy to whatever was said claiming that she trusted them and felt there was no reason to exclude any in whatever Brienne had to speak about. Another unfortunate circumstance concerning Brienne's necessary attempt to approach a personal subject.

The lady Stark had insisted though, and Brienne was left with no choice but to cede to her desire several times considering in that instant whether she should simply speak on something else and let the matter drop until a more favorable meeting presented itself. But Brienne had been doing just that for some time now…

She wasn't sure how much longer she would be made to wait before she could finally be able to catch Sansa in an isolated setting to bring up such matters between Ramsay sharing a bedchamber with her and Sansa's own insistence that Brienne speak before these men, among whom stood a maester that Brienne had heard served Roose Bolton.

It could be a long time coming, and Brienne's feeling of urgency was such now that she could no longer allow her desire to shield Sansa from political shame to prevent her from honestly and openly venting her feelings about both of the murderous men she harbored.

And yet Sansa still dismissed her opinions, "I am well aware of the risks of keeping them alive."

Brienne made a frustrated snorting sound as she rapidly expelled air in her irritation, "I have heard your reasons for taking these risks and I must say milady that I do not think that they weigh against the threat! Please, if you insist on keeping them alive so that they might meet their just rewards, let someone else handle it away from you!"

Sansa raised an eyebrow, "Are you volunteering? Did you want to be the one who punished Petyr Baelish and Ramsay?"

Brienne paused and then stood up straight, "I would gladly do so if you would permit. Being able to personally oversee them would do much to settle my concerns milady."

Sansa frowned at the bigger woman, "Well, this isn't about you. It wasn't your family that they murdered, not you they hurt."

The armored knight flinched at the intensity of Sansa's baleful glare when she said those things, and Brienne glanced away, wondering how in the world she was going to bring up her doubts about the wisdom of Sansa's choices without failing at it and perhaps making things even worse.

"But you can help, Brienne of Tarth." Brienne glanced over, a little surprised. Sansa had the barest wisp of a smile in one corner of her mouth, "Perhaps then your concerns can find satisfaction."

***…***

Ramsay was glad when Sansa returned that evening, for he had been fuming ever since his encounter with Brienne and relished the opportunity to find a way to perhaps use his closeness to the most powerful person in Winterfell to cause the armored woman some much needed distress after the way that she had disregarded him.

No sooner had he opened his mouth to tell her of Brienne's rude entry into their quarters as Sansa appeared in their door though did he spy Brienne at her shoulder, his mouth closing with an audible snap as he suddenly abandoned what he had been about to say. He thought he might have seen a flicker of mirth in Sansa's eyes for a moment.

Sansa cleared her throat and spoke once Brienne had also stepped inside to stop nearby, the female warrior clasping her hands at the small of her back and relaxing into a neutral stance, "I have decided that I shall be taking the lady of Tarth on as a personal guard for the time being, so she shall be making herself comfortable here."

Ramsay's lip quirked as he glanced at Brienne and then back to Sansa, "But isn't Lady Brienne already staying with us here in Winterfell? You mean here as in right here in this room? Why would you take such a guard now; has some form of new threat arisen?"

The Lady of Winterfell shrugged, "No, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared for the worst, and Lady Brienne is currently without task."

He shot a blistering glare at Brienne now, whom only returned his look with a flat stare of apathy. It was clearer than ever that Brienne had spoken with Sansa to secure this new arrangement, likely only so that she could continue to aggravate him. Here he had planned to put a thorn in Brienne's side for her insult to him, but she had already outmaneuvered him!

Ramsay had thought Brienne to be a stupid thing, all muscle and no brain, but now he realized he had misjudged her, but she was wrong if she thought she was going to catch him by surprise again. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes, "Fine, though I find her stare tedious." He picked up an empty cup and gestured at her with it, "Perhaps she could fetch us refreshment?"

A tight smile laced with the malice that drove his insulting comment covered his face as he stared right into Brienne's eyes, making no effort to hide his intent, but Sansa ruined his moment with her response as she handed him the rest of the tray of empty vessels, "I have business with her, why don't you be a dear and fetch us water while we speak?"

It had sounded like a question in words as it often did with her, but as always, her tone declared it a veiled command, and Ramsay frowned deeply as he quickly tucked the tray of items to himself and hurried from the room, his jaw tight with the realization that Sansa was going to ruin any further efforts of his to degrade Brienne.

No, quite the opposite, it seemed she was ready and willing to turn that game around entirely and leave Ramsay in the exact state he had wished for his new nemesis. When he got himself to the kitchen he threw the metal tray full of tin cups into the wash basin with far more force than necessary, causing a terrible racket and startling the nearby kitchen servants.

His hands were balled into fists, and all he could think of was the fact that he was helpless to really effect Brienne in any meaningful way. He almost left the kitchen but the notion returned to him that Sansa would be unhappy if he returned without water so with a heavy sigh he returned to retrieve what he would need.

Brienne watched him carefully when he returned, even going so far as to lift the cup he brought to her nose, as if smelling it for traces of poison. This ruffled Ramsay a bit, but he said nothing at the insult to his intelligence. He would not be so foolish as to attempt such an obvious ploy against the knight and found it ridiculous that she would consider him capable of it.

He mulled over that thought as he moved himself over to sit nearby whilst Sansa and Brienne continued the conversation that she had mentioned they would be having. They spoke on the logistics of Brienne's move over to their quarters, where she would be sleeping and when as well as where the armored woman was to store her things.

Mundane matters that bored Ramsay of course and allowed him to ignore the conversation entirely as he instead contemplated what it was exactly that Brienne wanted. She clearly thought him capable of incredible stupidity and seemed to assume that he was a waiting viper in the bedsheets prepared to strike her ward down at any time.

While Ramsay kind of enjoyed the idea that he was causing the blonde woman such unease, the fact that doing so was going to make his own life less comfortable, as she continued to invade his privacy and personal space due to her reservations, remained a problem for Ramsay as well, perhaps making it worthwhile for him to put her mind at ease.

He briefly considered that option; simply talking to Brienne once the two of them found themselves alone together and assuring her with words that he was in fact not planning to do anything to harm Sansa, which was in fact the truth. Ramsay had come to terms with himself that he actually cared both for Sansa and what Sansa thought of him.

If he only expressed how he felt about her, opened up a bit about the changes that she had presented in him… but fuck Brienne. Instead he turned his thoughts to how best to make her life one of such unbearable paranoia that she eventually either quit the cat and mouse game she played with him to protect her own sanity, or…

He smiled. Or she lost her shit in a way that got her removed from Sansa's immediate presence, if not by Sansa herself than at least by those close to her that might object to the presence of an extremely overzealous bodyguard. The next trick would be to find what it would take exactly to push her over that edge, so he waited, and he watched.

To his annoyance the two women spoke of him dismissively several times during their conversation. He hated being spoken of as if he was mundane; fear and reverence were what he wanted when people uttered his name, but long past were the days when that might have been the case in this particular house.

He did learn a few things though. In addition to the almost constant glances his way that Brienne employed, cementing his knowledge that she trusted him about as far as she could throw him, the armored lady asked twice about Petyr Baelish as they spoke, inquiring both where he was and what Sansa's plans with him were.

Sansa was entirely dismissive of Petyr as well, waving off the fact that he was securely held in a cell of her devising, and that she visited him from time to time to ensure that he was feeling properly 'penitent' for all of the crimes he had committed, not going into detail and refusing to continue the line of conversation, which obviously vexed Brienne.

Ramsay of course knew what it was that Sansa did to the man, and why Sansa would not be keen to share it with Brienne, but he smiled at the thought that this strain of secrecy on their relationship might very well be the break he needed. He told Sansa that he was taking another walk and swept from the room, gratified to see that Brienne was obviously irritated when Sansa waved him on.

She clearly didn't like Ramsay's freedoms in the castle, thought Ramsay. In fact, it must irk her that he had simply walked away from her scrutiny at a time when it was inconvenient for her to follow him, given that she was still engaged with Sansa. He knew she would excuse herself to follow him soon, though, Ramsay had a sense for these things.

He waited at the end of the hall for all of a minute and sure enough, Brienne could be seen leaving the quarters. He smirked and rounded the corner, knowing the blonde woman had likely spotted him and would give pursuit. He moved with purpose then, striding down the varying corridors to his destination. Time to visit Petyr Baelish.