Chapter 25: Setting Things Right

Petyr Baelish was confused and more than a little disoriented as the Lady Brienne pushed him along before her through the straight hallways of Winterfell Keep. His breath plumed before his eyes and he shivered at the cold despite the thick and heavy furs that the armored woman had given him to stave off the bitter chill.

They walked briskly, for Brienne seemed to be in a hurry to bring him to whatever destination that had been planned for him. His heart pounded in his chest at the prospect of his destination. Thoughts of where that might be swirled around his head; had the time finally come? Was he to be carted before the court and executed?

His eyes took in the courtyard to his left. For one thing, no one was assembled there, nor was there any sign of an executioner of any sort, or even a podium erected for a hanging. Wherever Brienne took him it seemed it would be a more private affair. This did not necessarily make Petyr feel better, as he tried to imagine why.

Perhaps Lady Sansa wished to take a more active role in his death? Petyr knew from the extensive list of information he had compiled on House Stark that the lords of that family tended towards performing executions personally, so as to prove to their vassals that they did not shy from getting their hands dirty, but Petyr had a hard time imagining Sansa beheading him in some private room. That too would have had to have been public. He hoped.

Of course, a Lady Stark would be a new phenomenon in the whole Stark execution business, Sansa wasn't her father that was certain and perhaps she had become fond enough of Petyr that she wished to execute him privately… Petyr's gaze flitted back to Brienne; maybe Sansa would have the hulking woman kill him quietly away from everyone's sight, even her own?

These deliberations weren't doing anything to slow the hammering stride of Petyr's heart, and he made a real effort to calm himself, though he found the task largely impossible to complete in full. After all, this arrangement with Brienne bringing him away from the room he had become so accustomed to was highly irregular, and boded nothing but ill fortune.

Finally the two arrived at Sansa's chambers. Petyr licked his lips apprehensively, a questioning, puzzled expression locked upon his face. He found this destination even more peculiar, and no attempt to strain his mind toward understanding lent any sort of answer or insight into why she would have him brought here of all places.

Brienne pushed the door aside and grabbed Petyr by the arm, ushering him inside with a thoroughly unnecessary amount of force as far as Petyr was concerned. After all, in all of the time that he had been a prisoner of Sansa within Winterfell Keep he had never once given anyone even the slightest of impressions that he was going to attempt escape or even resist in any way.

He gulped at the sight of Sansa, whom stood apparently awaiting his arrival, her hands folded calmly in front of herself as she regarded him through half-lidded eyes. Brienne pulled Petyr to stand just before the Lady of Winterfell, but not before Petyr's shrewd eyes picked up on the form of Ramsay, which was hunkered upon the great bed within Sansa's quarters.

Petyr could not see Ramsay's face, as the latter had the sheets of said bed pulled almost completely over himself. Petyr was only able to identify him as Ramsay by the tussle of brown hair above the blankets. For his part, Petyr's nostrils flared in sudden irritation at the sight of Ramsay freely sleeping within Sansa's bed.

It incensed him that Ramsay was allowed such luxury in addition to the apparent freedom of being able to travel the keep at his leisure. The sight of this made Petyr wonder if Ramsay also supped the fine foods of Sansa's table too, perhaps sitting as her right hand… these thoughts made Petyr irrationally angry to contemplate.

Ramsay of course deserved just as much as Petyr had gotten, so why did it seem as if Sansa somehow pampered him even as Petyr wasted away within that small room she had set aside for him? True, she could have put him in a dungeon, and Petyr ate well enough, but comparing that to what Ramsay seemed capable of filled Petyr with jealousy.

Those emotions were short-lived, however, as the story of what was really going on within Sansa's quarters began to unveil itself to him between the words spoken to him and the general mood of both Sansa and Lady Brienne. The first thing that changed the state of his own composure rapidly was the tone in Sansa's voice as she addressed him.

"I've summoned you here today to inform you that it has come to my attention that you were likely punished for something that you had no part in." Her voice seemed sincere. Petyr heard no malice or disdain, simply Sansa expressing genuine apology and even humility in admitting that she had made a mistake.

His jaw dropped. This had not at all been what he had expected, and he found himself having a hard time swallowing the fact that he had run aground upon such a wealth of good fortune. He had thought the matter had been done with too, that Brienne was going to use her suspicions of what Petyr knew to be Ramsay's ploy to keep the Bolton in check.

He glanced over at Brienne, but the knight's face was placid, unreadable. Did she tell Sansa in order to help Petyr? He doubted it; there was no love lost between him and the knight of the Sapphire Isles. He almost smiled then, glancing over at the form curled into Sansa's bed. It had to have been Ramsay; the fool had already done enough to make Brienne use her ace card against him.

Things became apparent enough though as Sansa spoke, "I only need you to answer me clearly now and with full honesty; were you aware of some plot to escape your place within the confines of Winterfell, Petyr Baelish?"

Petyr shook his head vehemently, "No, milady, I was not."

Sansa nodded at this, "Then it has come to my attention that Ramsay has sullied your name in one of his little games, and for such you have my condolences. You might be a prisoner here deserving of punishment for other heinous acts, but I wish no punishment levied that is not explicit in why it is deserved."

The former lord cleared his throat and shifted a little uncomfortably, his growing excitement over the turn of events dulled considerably by the reminder that Sansa had not forgotten his transgressions against her House. Sansa glanced past him to Brienne, "I believe that it would be best if we took a more active role in Petyr's rehabilitation."

Petyr blanched at that, and the covered form of Ramsay also stirred in surprise as she spoke, "I would like you to take them both out tomorrow to perform these labors you have been having Ramsay do; I think it well and good that you have instated a sort of civil program for them to pull their weight and pay back the community that houses them."

The mounting surprise over the wind of change that had suddenly foisted itself upon him seemed to catch Petyr up within its grasp, and he just stared slack jawed and dumbfounded as Sansa coolly regarded him. The faintest edges of a smile graced the corners of her mouth at his look, "I have decided that if I am to keep you alive I must treat you as I do my other ward, Ramsay."

He wasn't the only person in awe of this decision, as it seemed to make Lady Brienne uncomfortable as well, perhaps due to the part she would now be playing in it. Sansa spoke quickly to her now, seeming to want to ease the armored woman's mind, "I am certain that together we can come together with a plan to turn even the greatest offenders into production citizens."

Brienne took a long, slow breath, glancing at the flabbergasted face of Petyr and then shifting her gaze to the curled form of Ramsay, whom was peeking from under his covers whilst trying to seem as if he was doing so, "You are too kind, milady, but your charges are mine and I shall not fail you. This shall be the strangest winter I have ever known, I'm certain."

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It's been a joy to have you along on this journey, and where I could see this story going on forever, all good things must come to an end. I hope that the end leaves you musing over Ramsay and Petyr's fates under the strict tutelage of Sansa as much as it does for me. If anyone can get our boys on the straight and narrow, it's Sansa with a little help from the honorable Lady Brienne ;)