Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I am sorry if the quality of these chapters has suffered of late, I hope that this helps to make up for that. As always I own nothing.
Sansa went to where the King was talking to several knights, clearly making preparations for the coming march. She paused close enough for them to see that she wished to speak to the King but far enough away that they could finish their conversation in private. The King saw her but made no motion to address her, fortunately waiting was part of a lady's training so Sansa waited for the King to address her. She waited for what seemed about a quarter of an hour, fighting the urge to squirm or fidget with discomfort or impatience. At last the King dismissed the others and turned to address her.
"Lady Stark, you wished to speak with me?" Making sure not to show any of the stiffness that her body was feeling Sansa gave her best curtsy.
"I do your Grace. This is a matter of some importance but I hope shall not take long and I beg your Grace's indulgence." The King motioned for her to rise.
"Speak." He said simply.
"It concerns the traitor Theon Greyjoy." The King's mouth hardened slightly but he said nothing. "I have come to request that when he dies your Grace take his head rather than give him to the fire."
"And why should I do that? When march on the strongest fortress in the North and I shall need all the aid that I can get and he has the blood of kings in him, such an offering would be greatly pleasing to the Lord of Light." His gaze became suspicious and Sansa found herself squirming despite her efforts under his steely gaze.
"Why should you wish a quick death for him? Is he not the one who murdered your brothers?" Sansa had thought of that and had worked out a reply. She was sure that he would not be pleased to hear that Sansa was doing this, in part, to win Yara's loyalty. Instead she focused on what Yara had said and employing her own knowledge.
"It may indeed be pleasing to the Lord of Light to burn him, but to take his head yourself has advantages as well. The men of the North care nothing for Theon himself but if you were to take his head yourself you would show respect for the ways and culture of the North. Not only would this please those who joined you but word would spread to the other houses of the North. Roose Bolton holds power, in part, because he is a man of the North and you an outsider, men may not love Bolton but he is one of them and they know what to expect. Where they to know that you respect their ways that may bring them over to your side, especially when they learn a house as prominent as House Manderly has come over to your side." She paused to let the King consider her words. His expression had become, Sansa would not say softer, perhaps less harsh would be a better description. However; he still seemed uncertain.
"Your words make good sense," his tone suggesting that he was surprised that that could come from a woman. "Still, that is a gamble and I have found loyalty from the great houses to be scarce all too frequently and I myself has seen sacrifice yield results." Sansa gathered herself and then began to speak again.
"That maybe your Grace; however, there is a way you may have it both ways." He arched his eyebrow at her.
"Speak." He commanded.
"It is true that the Greyjoys have king's blood, but that is a distinction that is not exclusive to them. The Boltons also have king's blood. In the Age of Heroes, when the Boltons fought the Starks they were known as the Red Kings. They may no longer claim the title but the blood is still the same. In addition to being your enemies there are two of them, the father and the son. Surely if you promise to give them to the Lord of Light it would surly win you favor with him." The King was nodding slightly, nearly won over to the idea. Then he stared hard at her.
"I find it interesting that you would forgo having a more lingering death for the man who murdered your brothers. You impressed me as one who would want vengeance." Again Sansa had to pick her words carefully. Fortunately, what she was going to say next was the truth.
"I want him to burn, I want him to suffer for hours. If I could do to him what it looked like the Boltons did to him I would but I can't. I want him to suffer but I am willing to forgo that if it means that we win. It is my duty." This last came to her in a flash and she blessed talking to Sir Davos when he had mentioned how important duty was to the King. He stared at her for what seemed like a very long time and then he gave a tight smile and a small nod.
"Well said Lady Stark." His tone making it clear that the conversation was over. She curtsied again and then departed.
The following day the knights and nobles were summoned to the weirwood heart tree for Theon's execution. The Queen was there, as was Lady Melisandre. Sansa had heard that neither was pleased that Theon was to be beheaded rather than burned. But aside from them, and some of those who had converted to the Lord of Light, no one else seemed to mind. The men from the North looked pleased and the mercenaries seemed indifferent to the proceedings. Sansa was there, as was Alysane and Yare, the Princess and Jeyne had remained at camp, not wanting to see the execution.
Yara was back in chains, lest she attempt to aid her brother to escape. She had sworn that she would not and Sansa had not wanted to but the King had wanted it so and Sansa did not want to push her luck after having gotten as much as she had from the King. A block was placed before the weirwood tree and Theon was brought out. He looked better than when he had first arrived at camp but he still bore little resemblance to the handsome young man that Sansa and Jeyne had snuck glimpses at and then ducked away giggling. He did not seem scared, not even when he laid his eyes on the block. Indeed, he seemed almost relieved at the prospect of his coming death. Two soldiers, one on either side, walked him up to the block and forced him to kneel with his head on the block.
The King came up to him and drew his sword and rested the tip on the ground. He stared around at the assembled crowd and then lowered his gaze to stare Theon right in the eye. He then began to speak, his words were addressed to Theon but he pitched them in such a manner that all those present could hear them.
"I, Stannis of House Baratheon, King of Westeros, do sentence you, Theon of House Greyjoy, to death. Do you have any last words?" Theon turned to look at Sansa and his sister and for a moment looked as if he might say something but only shook his head.
"No." He said in a hoarse voice which was barely more than a whisper. The King said no more, his sword went up and then it came down. It seemed to take forever to reach Theon's neck but at last it did. Theon's head flew from his body in an arch of blood to land on the ground. Sansa stared at it and found that she felt very little. She had wanted him to deny or attempt to justify what he had done, to see him welcoming death took any pleasure she might have felt from her. Her thoughts were interrupted by the King speaking.
"Let word of what occurred here be spread throughout the North." With that he began to walk back to the village.
"Come. We march for Winterfell." Sansa joined the procession as they made their way back to the village to prepare for the march. She cast just one look back at the body, it looked small and pathetic in the snow.
You have your justice Brothers. She said silently. You can rest now.
Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I hope you liked it. I know some of the chapters have been off of late so I hope this one was better, please let me know in the reviews. I am not sure what will happen next, have a few ideas bouncing around. Till then please pray for all who need it, including those held by ISIS, human traffickers, those suffering for their faith and a girl near where I live who was badly injured and whom I have been told will die short of a miracle. Bye and may Jesus bless you.