"That's Ramsay Bolton?" Tormund asked from beside Edd, his voice disbelieving, as they watched the small group of men ride towards them, the Bolton banner flying high with two larger than average hounds running alongside them.

Those were some big fucking dogs, Edd thought watching them closely. Obviously not as big as the Lord Commanders wolf or even Arya's, but they were pretty big. And damn intimidating.

Drawing his attention from the dogs to the men, Edd noticed that positioned front and center rode a man who had to be Ramsay Bolton. Riding like some pompous, high-born Lord that he was not born to be.

Ramsay Bolton was a bastard with ideals of grandeur, and thought he was more important than he actually was. But both Lady Sansa and Arya had described him perfectly.

Small in stature, pale skinned, dark hair, that creepy smile. Yes this definitely had to be Ramsay Bolton.

"He don't look like much." Tormund grumbled. "Smaller than even you Lord Crow." He japed at the stoic faced commander who never took his eyes off his enemy.

"Small he may be, Lord Wildling." Arya told the giant red-head softly, her voice void of emotion as she too watched their enemy ride towards them. Edd's lips twisted slightly at the name she had given Tormund and that Tormund allowed her to call him that. "But brutality is not confined to the size of one's stature." She nodded towards the incoming men, her face cold and emotionless. "That man's insanity is what makes him dangerous. Means he can be unpredictable. Brutal. My sister is testament to that fact." She finished and Edd found his gaze drifting towards Lady Sansa who sat silently upon her horse, watching as Ramsay rode closer, watching as her living nightmare came closer and closer.

Edd may not have known what went on during Lady Sansa's stay with Bolton, but he could only imagine. She tended to flinch around men that weren't her brother or Arya's companion. The slight blanching of her features, the tensing of her body. It all spoke of a woman who had suffered brutally at the hands of a man. Suffered at the hands of this man that was riding towards them.

Tormund bowed his head in apology to both the Stark sisters and again it amazed Edd how differently the wildling commander treated the little she-wolf to almost everyone else. Even to those in his own tribe.

"You don't have to be here, Sansa." Jon told his sister softly from the other side of her. "You don't have to see him so soon."

"Yes I do." she stated firmly looking straight ahead, head tilted proudly. "I refuse to allow him to break me again."

Jon watched his sister closely before nodding and turning towards the incoming party.

It wasn't long before Ramsay Bolton pulled his party up short only a few feet away. The two hounds with them snarling viciously causing their horses to shift nervously.

In fact the only horse that seem to pay the hounds no attention was Arya's Dothraki steed. But then again that beast was used to being around Arya's dire-wolf, so Edd supposed the two hounds were nothing by comparison.

"My beloved betrothed." Ramsay smiled, ignoring everyone else and focusing on Lady Sansa. A cruel smile hovered over the man's mouth, as he smiled knowingly at her. "I have missed you terribly." He crooned, watching Lady Sansa's face with an almost rabid fascination. Lady Sansa stared at him eyes cold, head held high, silent and refusing to cower beneath his stare.

Eyes narrowing slightly the short man turned to Jon.

"Thank you for returning my beloved betrothed to me." he told Jon pleasantly, smiling a creepy little smile. "Now dismount and kneel before me." he ordered imperiously. "Surrender your army and proclaim me the true Lord of Winterfell and the Warden of the North, and I will pardon you for deserting the Night's Watch, I will pardon these treasonous people for betraying my house and I will take back your sister as my wife even though she displeased me greatly."

Suddenly his eyes fell on Arya.

"Oh and look! You've bought me another present! And who may you be, wench?" he asked Arya curiously, those crazed eyes raking over Arya with barely disguised interest.

Edd noticed the way both Jon and Grey Worm tensed.

"A girl is called Arya Stark of Winterfell." Arya said softly, an enticing smile lingering on her lips that had Ramsay's eyes lighting up.

"Two Stark sisters, bastard! You are here to give me TWO Stark sisters! For that I will not kill you. Or these fools with you. Now –"he clapped his hands, smiling. "– dismount and kneel before me." he ordered, his voice hardening.

Jon continued to stare at him, unflinchingly.

"Come bastard –"Ramsay enticed. "– you don't have the men, you don't have the horses and you don't have Winterfell. Why lead those poor souls to their deaths? Get off your horse and kneel. There's no need for a battle."

"You're right." Jon told him never taking his eyes off Ramsay. "There's no need for a battle. Thousands of men don't need to die. Only one of us. Let's settle this the old way. You against me."

Ramsay stared at Jon for but a moment before bursting out into crazed laughter. Around him his men joined in, shaking their head at Jon and his audacity.

"You would like that wouldn't you bastard?" beside him his two hounds continued to snarl viciously, their eyes never leaving Jon, watching him like he were their next meal. "Me and you, fighting to the death. But the stories that surround you here in the north say that you are most likely the strongest swordsman living. Would I beat you?" he shrugged, again with that creepy little smile. "Probably not. But what I do know is that my army would beat your army. So let me think which one I would go for." He tapped his chin mockingly. "I'm going to have to go with no. Our armies will fight it out. I have six thousand men, you have what? Not even half that?" he mocked.

"Aye you have the men." Jon looked at the men that had gathered with Ramsay, his eyes falling on Lord Harald Karstark and Lord Smalljon Umber. "Men that had at one time sworn fealty to my father. But will these men still fight for you if they knew you would not fight for them? If they knew that you would leave them in the middle of battle just to save your own hide?"

Edd watched as both the Lords glanced at each other before turning back to Jon, their faces unreadable.

Ramsay smiled, pointing a finger at Jon.

"Oh he's good." he told his men jovially. "Very good. But these men know who will win this battle. Remember I have the men, I have the horses and I have the weapons. And not only that I have my hounds –"he held out both his hands beside him indicating to the two salivating hounds beside him. "I have over a hundred hounds waiting to be fed. Waiting for the taste of you and your men, bastard. They have a taste for flesh, my hounds and I have been starving them just for this battle. And they listen to only me." he said, giving them a mocking bow.

"A girl wonders if they do only obey a man." Arya commented softly, drawing Bolton's attention, those grey eyes she shared with her brother, dark with some untold emotion. "Does a man speak the truth?" she stared curiously at the two dogs who seem to settle under her gaze.

"Why yes, wench. Shall I show you?" Ramsay tapped his chin again, his eyes falling on Grey Worm, not noticing that his dog's attention was now on Arya and not on anyone else. "How about him!" he pointed at Grey Worm, who sat silently on his horse beside Arya. "Yes him, I don't like how he looks at me. Jarkart, Gorestirk –" both dogs snapped out of whatever trance they were in and started growling again. "- attack!" he commanded pointing a silent Grey Worm.

Edd felt his stomach drop as both hounds turned to leap towards the motionless man.

"Stop!" Arya snapped out, her voice so strong and so commanding that both hounds did as she commanded immediately.

Edd watched unable to stop his mouth from falling open as both hounds who had just moments before been snarling and barking at them viciously lowered themselves to the bellies, their heads bowed in submission.

"Attack!" Ramsay roared, pointing to Grey Worm again.

Edd watched as Arya dismounted, never taking her eyes off Ramsay she moved towards both hounds.

"Ar –" he began until Tormund kicked him in the leg, shaking his head.

Smiling serenely Arya lowered herself beside the hounds holding her hands out to them, allowing them to lick her hands and Edd watched in fascination as they crept closer to her, seeking her touch.

"It seems to a girl that a man called Ramsay SNOW –"she laid emphasis on the man's true last name, causing the man to mottle with rage. "- has lost his command over his hounds."

"What the fuck have you done to my hounds, cunt!" suddenly all sense of propriety left the enraged man as he moved his horse towards her only to stop short when both hounds, the same hounds that he had claimed as his, turned on their master, snarling at him.

"A girl does not think her new friends like a man anywhere near a girl, Ramsay Snow." She said languidly, laughing at the red-faced man glaring with disbelief at her and his hounds.

"Cunt –"

"Call my sister a cunt one more time, Ramsay and I will forget all proprieties of war and kill you and your men here and now. And I will make sure that YOUR death is a long torturous one." Jon promised the man, smirking at him.

"Fuck you, bastard!" Ramsay screamed. "Jarkart, Gorestirk to me!" he ordered. Both dogs stayed where they were ignoring their raging master.

Arya laughed, her smooth sultry voice washing over all those that were there. From the corner of his eye Edd saw Grey Worm flinch slightly at that laugh. The man obviously knowing what was to come next.

"How about we do this?" Arya asked Ramsay smoothly. "A man called Ramsay Snow, dismounts, a man called Ramsay Snow kneels and proclaims a girl's brother Jon the true Lord of Winterfell and warden of the North and a girl allows a man to ride back, pack a man's things, with all a man's men and leave Winterfell alive and well." She stood to her full height, and even though she was a short thing, that confidence made her seem so much taller, so much larger. So much more dangerous.

"Fuck you, wench!" Edd wondered if Bolton knew he had switched back to wench from cunt and that he unconsciously heeded Jon's warning. "When my men win this battle, I will make sure I kill you first!" Ramsay sneered. "But only after I make you watch me fuck and kill your sister!"

Arya shrugged unmoved by the man's ranting before turning to Lord Karstark and Lord Umber.

"My Lords, what say you?"

Both men look at each other then looked at Ramsay.

"You won't win, bitch. There is no way you can win." Lord Karstark sneered, glaring at Arya.

Arya turned that deadly smile on him.

"Don't say a girl did not warn you." She told them regretfully. "A girl's father truly did respect and trust you. You were his bannermen after all." She lifted her shoulders again. "Men he would have gone to war for, men he would have died for. And for you to betray him and his memory?" she shook her head. "So be it." She whispered, bowing her head at the both of them. Looking down at the two hounds at her feet she drew their attention.

Pointing at Lord Karstark she whispered, "Attack."

Edd barely had time to blink as both hounds immediately leaped for the man, causing his horse to rear in fright. Karstark slammed into the ground on his back as both hounds continued to viciously tear the man apart his screams renting the air.

Ramsay and his men struggled to control their horses, with Ramsay screaming out orders for his hounds to stop.

Edd shot a glance to those around him. Tormund was grinning like a maniac while trying to control his own horse. Grey Worm stared at the scene unmoved. Ser Davos grimaced slightly but said nothing. And Lady Sansa and Jon stared at Ramsay. Their faces cold and unrelenting.

"You bitch -!" Ramsay screamed.

"Wait for it." Arya whispered, holding up a finger. "Hounds, stop." Unlike when it was said before, there was no command in her voice, instead she whispered it enticingly, seductively. But the hounds heard anyway. They stopped immediately, panting in their exertion, their muzzles and their bodies covered in blood. Lord Karstark's blood.

"Hounds, to me." They obeyed immediately, moving to stand beside Arya, their big bodies vibrating.

Arya continued to smile at Ramsay.

"Hounds, sit." She told them softly and they did.

"Scared yet, Ramsay." It was the first time since Bolton had arrived that Lady Sansa had spoken. But when she did her voice was strong, confident, even slightly mocking.

Ramsay started, turning his glare on her.

"Enough of these games. We shall meet you on the battle field, bastard. My six thousand men to your tiny little army." He tugged the reins of his horse viciously, his eyes falling on Arya. "And you, wench. I'll make sure my chambers are ready for you." He smirked.

Arya gave him a mocking bow.

"A girl looks forward to meeting a man in his chambers and giving a man the gift of the many faced god." She raised her head, raising her hand to touch her forehead and slowly passing it down her face.

Ramsay blanched stunned as he stared at her.

"Myranda." He whispered staring at Arya's now changed face.

"Valar moghulis." She whispered back, smirking.

:::

Tormund Giantsbane had decided pretty early on that he liked the Lord Crow's little she-wolf sister. He liked that fact that she was a dangerous little thing wrapped up in a beautiful little package. Like that she treated him and the rest of the free folk as if they were equals, and especially like that she had a vicious streak almost a league wide and wasn't ashamed by it.

Learning that the Lord Crow had a little sister that was more vicious than Styr the Magmar of the Thenn, was more dangerous than him yet had more self-control than The Lord Crow himself made Tormund happy that he was on her side and not on Ramsey's.

And the way she dealt with Ramsay and his men, had Tormund grinning like a fool. Yes, he definitely liked the she-wolf. Probably even more than he like her brother.

"They have more than six thousand men." Grey Worm, the usually silent soldier told the group surrounding the table that was covered with maps and placements of Winterfell.

There were just the seven of them in the make shift war room at their encampment a few leagues from Winterfell. Lord Crow, the old man, Edd, Lady Sansa, the she-wolf's soldier, the she-wolf and himself. The Crow's war council.

He at first wondered why Lady Sansa was there, being that she was more lady than warrior, but as the little she-wolf said, her sister knew things about Ramsay that no one else would.

"Four thousand horses spread over Winterfell, House Karstark and House Umber. Ramsay was correct in saying that he has over a hundred hounds and they have more weapons than we have men." He stopped and ran his gaze over each of them, stopping at the she-wolf. "It's not going to be easy."

"Nothing worth fighting for is ever easy, my friend." The little she-wolf told him, shooting him a small smile. The silent soldier nodded taking a step back and Tormund had a feeling he was watching some unspoken conversation between the two.

"After what Ramsay witnessed with Arya one would hope he'd back down." Edd muttered, frowning over the maps in front of them.

"That's not his way." The old man spoke up. "He knows the North is watching. Plus what happened would be a blow to his ego. He is use to instilling fear in everyone around him. It's what he feeds off. What he's use to. He will be smarting about what happened. He won't back down. His ego won't allow him to."

"Then we use his arrogance against him." The crow told them, placing both hands on the table and staring down at the maps.

"Come again?" Tormund asked.

"Ramsay won't want to admit that he lost control of the hounds he boasts about. Even to himself." The quiet voice of the crow's red-headed sister cut through the men, drawing them into silence.

She was such a beauty, the crow's sister. Actually both sisters were in entire different ways.

The little she-wolf was all dark hair, grey eyes and a dangerous little smile. This one was tall, regal, elegant. A true highborn lady that he and his brothers would tell bawdy japes about and to.

But for some odd reason Tormund found himself holding back with this one. And it had nothing to do with the fact that the little she-wolf broke every bone in a Thenn warrior's hand for daring to touch her sister without her consent.

He had arrived to deliver Tormund a message before spying the red-headed beauty. And like the arrogant fucker his tribe was known to be, he had cornered Lady Sansa, touching her hair and leering down at her. Feeding off her fear.

Before Tormund or the Crow could interfere the little she-wolf had appeared from nowhere, grabbing the man by the back of his neck and literally flinging him away from her sister. Despite her smaller size the girl was packed with power.

Tormund had rushed to deal with the Thenn only to have the little she-wolf's silent soldier step in front of him, shaking his head. Tormund bared his teeth at him only to have him say one word.

"Watch."

"A man touches a girl's sister like a man has a right to." The little she wolf, commented watching the man intently. "A man does not have that right."

"You may have my Magnar's respect, bitch but you don't have mine!" the man sneered, moving towards her.

Tormund watched as the little she-wolf smiled before she met him half-way, her fists moving hard and fast, connecting with his throat, his chest and finally his belly, causing a man who had been trained by Styr himself to fall to his knees in pain.

"A man should know something about a girl." The little she-wolf purred in the Old Tongue, probably because she knew that her brother or her sister would not understand her. "A girl was trained in Braavos to be a killer." She crouched down beside the gasping man, who was clawing at his throat. "The House of Black and White trained a girl for many years to know how to kill a man." She ran her gaze over his rapidly reddening face, smiling. "A girl knows how to kill so a man feels no pain, or to make a man die slowly. To steal a man's ability to breathe, so that a man's death is an agonising one." the cold detached look entered her gaze as she continued to stare at him. "A girl should let a man die slowly, or mayhaps a girl shall kill a man fast." She gave the gasping man a deadly smile. "- or mayhaps a girl shall let you live." She pretended to contemplate her decision.

"Arya." The crow warned softly causing Tormund to scowl at him. He was just beginning to enjoy the show!

"A girl shall make a decision that a man should not make a girl regret later. A girl will let a man live." Her fist struck out again, throat, chest and belly and the Thenn drew a deep breath, coughing as air finally hit his lungs. "But just in case –"she grabbed the man's hand and preceded to break every bone in the man's hand causing him to scream in pain.

Lady Sansa had covered her ears at the screams and the crow stared at his sister, his look sad and resigned.

Apparently the little she-wolf was what they called a faceless man. Hired assassin that served someone called the many-faced god. Whatever the hell she was, Tormund loved it!

"Ramsay is arrogant to a fault." Lady Sansa said meeting each and every one of their eyes. "He believes he is untouchable. Unbreakable and unbeatable. His arrogance will be his weakness." She shot a look at the little wolf, who gave her an encouraging nod.

"So what's the plan?" Edd asked. "How do we win a war against such odds?"

"We draw him to us." The old man told them. "We fight on our terms, not theirs." He pointed to some area on the map with his stubby fingers. "We draw them here where the ground is softer and their horses will be rendered unstable. We are digging trenches along our flanks so that they won't be able to hit us from the side, only head on. If we control as much of this battle as we can, we may have the upper hand."

"This hill is where the majority of our archers will be –" the Crow told them pointing to some line on the map. "- it's far enough from their archers – hopefully – but close enough for ours to shoot their foot soldiers."

"And your wolves?" Edd asked him softly, his gaze bouncing between the three siblings.

"They will be there." The little she-wolf confirmed her eyes meeting Edd's.

"Okay. Let's get some sleep." The old man told them, frowning at them all. "Tomorrow is a big day. We need you all sharp tomorrow."

Edd and the old man nodded at both ladies as they exited.

Grinning Tormund sauntered towards the door, placing a large hand on the little she-wolf's shoulder as he passed.

"Will you fight with us tomorrow, she-wolf?" he asked her, ignoring the scowl for the she-wolf's brother.

"Aye, Lord Wildling, I shall fight tomorrow."

Tormund nodded, satisfied.

"Good." he nodded, grinning down at the tiny woman. "Now –" he clapped his hands, rubbing them together in anticipation. " - I am going to go and find me some ale to drink and a warm willing body to f –"he broke off abruptly, grimacing when he remembered Lady Sansa was still in the room. " – be warm with." he finished lamely, ignoring the chuckle from both the she-wolf and her brother. "On the morrow, little wolf. Lord Crow. Lady Sansa. And you –"he waved at Grey Worm, making his way out the door, his mouth thirsty for that ale and his arms hungry for that warm body.

The remaining four stayed silent each lost in their own thoughts.

Jon felt – weary. Tired. Exhausted.

Frowning down at the maps in front of him, he wondered if there was anything else they needed to do to prepare themselves for the upcoming battle. Anything that he may have left out.

"Grey Worm, if you please." Arya asked her companion softly and Jon raised his head in time to see him incline his head at Arya, bow to Sansa and leave without giving him a second glance.

Jon did not take it personally though. He had come to realise that the man barely spoke or acknowledged anyone but Arya and as of lately Sansa. And he only spoke to Jon when needed.

"I still think we need to rally more troops." Sansa told them staring down at the maps. "We don't have nearly enough men to help fight."

"Aye, and I agree." Jon said, moving to stand beside her. "But we don't have any more people to help fight. This is what we have."

"Then we wait." Sansa told him, determinedly. "Until we have a larger force."

"Sansa –"Jon sighed.

"We need to wait!" Sansa snapped angrily and Jon turned to see the frustration and the grief written all over her face. "We need to rally more troops, gather more forces! This can wait!"

"It can't –"

"It can!" Sansa retorted before Jon could finish. "I refuse to lose you and Arya when I just got you back. I refuse to be taken back but a sadistic maniac who will torture each and every man he gets his hands on. I refuse to allow him to hurt Arya the way he hurt me!" the last part was screamed and Jon stared at her, stunned.

Dammit, sister, what did that bastard put you through? He asked her silently as he stepped forward; ignoring her half-hearted attempts to push him away he hugged her, his eyes meeting Arya's over Sansa's shoulders.

Her face was expressionless but her eyes blazed with a fury that could scorch.

"Please Jon, let's just wait." Sansa asked him softly, clutching at his tunic almost desperately.

"Sansa –"he moved back from her, cupping her face and Jon idly noticed that his sister was slightly taller than him. She had grown so much in the years they had all been apart.

"This can't wait." He told her. "The time to attack is now."

Sansa clutched at his hands, her eyes desperate.

"Then I will contact Petyr at the Vale –"

"No." Arya interrupted and both Sansa and Jon turned their heads towards their younger sister.

"But he has the men we need. Men that can fight." Sansa insisted.

"But at what cost, Sansa?" Arya asked her softly. Sansa flushed avoiding Jon's curious stare.

"If it gets us the men we need –"Sansa began.

"No." Arya shook her head. "Out of the question. We are not handing your over to that - man." A muscle in Arya's jaw ticked as she glared at Sansa.

"Wait, what's happening? Why would we hand you over to Littlefinger?" Jon demanded feeling left out of the conversation.

It was something that happened a lot when it came to Arya. She was forming all these little secret alliances and had all these whispered conversations with so many different people that Jon felt confused and frustrated.

Both sisters fell into silence, Arya staring at Sansa and Sansa staring back at her sister pleadingly.

"Because that is what he would demand." Arya told Jon, her eyes never leaving Sansa's flushed face. "He would want Sansa's hand in marriage as payment for him sending the knights of the Vale."

"No!" Jon shook his head. "Not happening. No way no how."

"It's the only way to get more men!"

"No!" Jon snapped at Sansa, glaring at her for even thinking about exchanging her freedom for more men. "You have been through enough. I refuse –"he glanced at Arya. "– WE refuse to let you barter yourself so that we can get more men to fight. We will fight this war with the men we have."

"You don't understand." Sansa whispered. "Ramsay's men are like the hounds he's so proud of. Vicious, mean without an ounce of compassion. They will tear through our forces. They will take you both from me!" she told them. "If I were to marry Petyr, it would be a small price to pay for your lives."

"But it's not a price I am willing to pay for you." Jon told her firmly. "Look at me Sansa –" he tilted her head towards his. "-we fight tomorrow. WE live tomorrow. That I promise you."

Sansa closed her eyes nodding but Jon noticed the tears running down her face.

"I have spoken with Grey Worm." Arya said softly, from beside them and Jon marvelled at how quickly and how silently she moved. "He will stay with you on the morrow."

Sansa jerked her head towards Arya.

"What no, he should be with you!"

"No. He will stay here. With you." She patted Sansa's arm. "If Ramsay is as devious as I think he is, he will send men after you because he will think you are unprotected. Grey Worm offered to stay." Arya's lips twisted into a smile. "He knows how much you and Jon mean to me."

Jon knew of the plan and approved of it whole heartedly. He just wished that Arya would stay behind as well.

Sansa took a deep breath nodding.

"We should get some rest." Jon told his sisters. "Tomorrow we fight."

Arya smiled at him, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek causing Jon's eyes to close. Slowly over the past few weeks, Arya's ice wall had begun melting, allowing the little sister he had grown up with to peak through the sister that was here now.

She still wasn't the exuberant wild child he had grown up with, but slowly she was becoming the warm affectionate sister he had known. If only in private.

"We shall see you in the morn brother." Arya told him, slipping her arm through Sansa's and together the sisters moved towards the door of the tent. Sansa's head bowed to whisper to Arya and Arya patting Sansa's arm as they left.

Sighing Jon rubbed a hand over his face, so very, very tired.

Tomorrow they fight for their home. Tomorrow Ramsay Bolton dies.