Author's Notes: Hey everyone. Thanks for the reviews. Well here we go. You might not want to eat before you read this.
Sansa walked down the corridors. Her heart was hammering in her chest, both in fear of being discovered and horror at what she planned to do. It took her a while to find her way to Walder Frey's chambers as she did not want to ask directions and be remembered, but at last by following a servant, she found it.
She waited till the servant had departed, gathering her courage and her hatred, and then walked to the door and knocked.
"What?!" That hateful voice called from within.
"A gift from Lord Tyrion my lord." She replied, trying to imitate the tone she heard servants using.
After a few moments the door opened. "Come in." The voice commanded. Slowly she walked in, closing the door behind her.
His rooms were large and rather shabbily furnished, everything looking old and worn. Frey himself sat in a chair. He was clad only a bed gown and dressing robe. As she came in he looked at the bottle of wine she held and then stared at her; for a moment she feared he would see enough of her mother in her to realize who see was. Then he leered horribly at her.
"I see the Lord Imp has sent me more than one gift, he is indeed most generous. Follow me." Rising he led her into the bed room, which was dominated by a large four-poster bed. He indicated a night table on which was a glass.
"Pour me a glass." He commanded. She walked to the table and poured wine into one. Looking slightly over her shoulder she saw he wasn't looking in her direction. Carefully she drew the bottle out of her dress. Uncapping the bottle she poured three drops into the cup and swirled it around to mix it in. Turning she went to him and handed him the cup.
"Now take off your dress." He commanded after he had taken a deep draught. Sansa's heart raced, she had not anticipated this! She could not think of anything she would rather not do than that. But she had to keep him occupied to the drug took effect.
She decided to play stupid; if it worked on the Lannisters it should work on the Frays. "My lord?" She said, as if she did not understand the command.
"You heard me, you stupid girl!" He snapped, and she was pleased to hear that his words were already slurring. "I said take off your dress!"
"My lord did not say…" she began.
"I don't care what your lord said! I am sure he's…" He trailed off and fell back on the bed as the drug did its work.
Relieved Sansa went to the door, closed and bolted it. Then she set to work. First she heaved Walder onto the bed; he was heavier than he looked. She then took off his cloths. With Shae's knife she cut the night shirt into strips and used them to tie him by his wrists and ankles to the four posts. She stuffed a fifth piece into his mouth, gaging him.
Not wanting to get blood on her dress she replaced it with one of Walder's night shirts, rolling up the sleeves till they fit. Walking up to the bed she stared at him for a moment, building up her hatred till it threatened to overwhelm her, and then she set to work.
She took the knife and cut along his thigh. The cut wasn't deep but it got the desired results. With a grunt he came awake. As his senses returned and he realized the predicament he was in he began to struggle against his restrains and yell into the gag; Sansa was not by any means an expert with knots but Walder was an old man and lacked the strength to get loose.
After a brief struggle he ceased and Sansa walked into his view. "Do you know who I am?" She asked simply. His eyes showed rage but no recognition. "Let me give you a clue then; you murdered those very dear to me." As she said this she lightly ran the blade over his chest and belly. Now recognition filled his eyes and he renewed his struggling.
As he did so she began speaking in a casual voice. "What you're feeling right now? It is fear and helplessness; please believe me when I say I am very familiar with them, your masters the Lannisters taught them to me very well indeed. Now," she said in a tone of false good cheer; "Where shall we begin?"
She slid the blade down to prick his groin. Terror filled his eyes but he remained perfectly still, afraid any movement would cause the blade to cut him. "No," she said after a moment's pause; "I think we'll wait on that. We don't want you bleeding out just yet."
Sansa could not quie describe how she felt. She felt disgust and what she was doing and planning to do. Yet at the same time she had never felt so alive and exhilarated. But what she felt most of all was hate; hate for the man who had murdered her family. When she thought of that she found she could enjoy this.
"Well," she said, the false cheer returning; "You have chosen to bend the knee to the Lannisters. At your age that must be hard, let me help you." So saying, and her smile turning vicious, she jammed the knife under his right kneecap and began working it back and forth. He screamed into the gag and thrashed around but was unable to get loose. With a final spasm he passed out.
That angered Sansa, she was far from done and she wanted him to feel everything. She slapped him several times but it had no effect. Her anger rising, she took the knife and cut along his side, the blade scrapping along his ribs. That woke him up.
"Oh good, your awake." She said. She had blood on her face and she ran the blade lightly over her face as she tried to mimic the cheerful yet cruel smiles she had seen Joffery use when he hurt her or others. At that moment she had never felt farther from the Sansa Stark of Winterfell.
She briefly thought of Arrya, how she had always called her weak and foolish. What would you think of me now? Sansa thought. Would you approve, or would you be repelled and horrified. She tried not to think what the rest of her family would think, she already knew. Their dead, she thought violently, their dead and can't think anything and this man is to blame.
Looking down at him the false cheer left her face. "How does it fell?' She spat, all the hate and pain she felt coming into her voice. "How does it feel, to be in the hands of someone who has no pity or mercy? You made my mother and brother feel it, now it's your turn!"
With a surge of anger she struck him across the face while at the same time thrusting the knife into his side. "You murdered them!" She screamed in his face. "You murdered my mother," she screamed as she pulled the knife out and thrust it in again. "You murdered my brother and his wife!" Thrust. "You killed the only people in the world who I loved; for what!?" Thrust. "Money?!" Thrust. "A title!?" Thrust. "Your injured pride, lost honor!?" Thrust. "Anyone who would do what you did wouldn't have any honor to begin with!" Thrust.
The exertion had left her exhausted and covered in blood. Her rage had left Walder Frey's belly a bloody mess; he was sliding in and out of consciousness he likely couldn't last long. Sansa knew she could not make him suffer nearly as much as he deserved but she was not going let he slip away without causing him as much pain as possible.
She waited until he was conscious again so he could see what she was going to do. She grabbed his manhood, twisted it. And, with Frey staring, sliced it off. He rose up as far as his bonds would allow and howled into his gag, then collapsed back onto the bed.
Sansa fell back panting. Part of her was sickened and she felt bile rising in her. But her hate still beat strong and forced the bile down and the feelings of sickness into the back of her mind. She walked to the fire and threw the bloody organ into it. She wasn't quite done.
She went back to the table where she had set the wine bottle and picked it up and carried it back to the bed. She uncorked the bottle and poured its contents over Frey, from his face to his mutilated groin. Going back to the fire she took a burning ember from the fire with a pair of tongs. She took the ember and held it in front of his eyes.
"Burn in hell." She said, the dropped it on him.
Instantly the wine ignited burning him from face and belly. He thrashed about and screamed with renewed vigor. However, it was clear that, between the fire, the wounds and resulting blood lose, he wouldn't last long.
Sansa stood there watching him till his struggles ended and it was clear he was dead. Going to a nearby washbowl she washed the blood off and put Shae's dress back on. Taking one last look at Walder Frey's remains she turned and left the room.
She made her way back to her rooms without being noticed. As she entered she saw that her husband and maid were still asleep. She returned the dress and donned her own.
Going to her bed she felt a stab of fresh pain as she remembered her family. She felt her eyes tearing up, but it wasn't enough, it could not express the depth of her pain. She cast her mind out to a bird she saw at the window.
Flying over the country side she soon saw what she sought. On the way she had heard that the number of wolves in the countryside had been growing and she had found some. She entered the largest of them, clearly the leader of the pack.
As soon as she was in control she walked to the top of a hill overlooking the pack. Once there she threw back her head and howled. Into that howl she poured all she had felt since her father's death. The grief, the pain, the loneliness, all of it.
The rest of the pack took up the howl and soon they were all giving voice to her grief. Yes, she thought; grieve for those who honored your kind by taking you as their sigil. Grieve for them as I cannot.
Her work done she returned to her body. Afterwards she sat in the dark and listened to the howling of the wolves. None of her family had had proper funerals. Now though, she felt they had finally been laid to rest. Goodbye, rest in peace.
Author's Notes: Well there you have it. Did he get his just deserts or did I go too far? Pl ease let me know in the reviews. In addition to my usual prayer requests I would please ask those reading this to pray for the people of South Dakota. A big storm hit there and killed around 100,000 head of cattle. The people who lost them depend on them for their livelihood. Thank you and may Jesus bless them and you.