Author's Notes: Hello everyone I am glad that you liked the last chapter and I hope that you like this one as well, as always I own nothing. POSSIBLE SPOILERS.
The next morning Sansa arose from her bed and prepared herself for what was to come. She had stayed the night in the camp as the army was still performing sweeps of Winterfell for any Bolton stragglers. Today she would move back into Winterfell and take up residence, along with those of her bannermen who had joined the army. These numbered less than a hundred but they would have to be enough as the King could spare no more to hold Winterfell, Sansa would have to hope that the walls would prove defense enough for them. At least they would not have to worry about supplies, in the short run at least. The party from White Harbor had brought large quantities of supplies with them when they had come to Winterfell and though the King would be requisitioning the majority of those supplies for the army the remainder would be enough to feed the castle and its inhabitants for some time, though if the winter was a long one extreme measures would have to be taken.
That; however, was in the future. At present there was another task to attend to. In the field in front of Winterfell a stake had been erected and piles of fagots stacked around it and these had been soaked with oil. It was here that Ramsey Bolton, or Ramsey Snow as the King insisted that everyone call him as Tommen was not the true king and therefor had no right to legitimize anyone, was to be burned. While Jeyne had told her what he had done to her Sansa was surprised when Jeyne declared that she was coming to watch the burning. While the King had declared that the army and nobles were to watch the Princess was staying in her tent and Sansa had thought that her friend would stay away as well.
"That monster hurt me in ways you cannot imagine my lady." Her friend told her in a voice that echoed how Sansa had often felt since she had learned of her family's fate. "I will never be able to fully feel safe till I see him die with my own eyes." So the two joined their escort and went to join the others.
They found Sansa's uncle near the front, as was expected of such a prominent man, he raised his eyebrow at the sight of Jeyne and seemed to be about to say something when the King and the Lady Melisandre came into view. The Red Woman seemed to have thrown off her ill-humor and indeed appeared to be almost buoyant as she approached the pyre. The King seemed as grim and humorless as he always did, as if this was just one more duty to be performed. The mood of those around Sansa seemed to vary as well. Many of the knights of the King waited for what was to come with varying degrees of eagerness. The Northern lords looked on with some slight distaste but said nothing in protest. The only exceptions to this were the men from White Harbor and the men from Hornwood. The latter had sworn loyalty to the King and seemed eager to see Ramsey die. The sellswords seemed indifferent to what was going on, Sansa supposed that they had likely seen worse in their lives.
For her part Sansa felt slightly conflicted. Ramsey was an enemy of her house and his father had helped murder her family. She knew at least some of what Ramsey had done and it made her blood boil, he was as cruel as Joffrey had been, if not more so and had earned death. At the same time, it was said that burning was one of the worst ways to die. The Mad King had killed her grandfather by burning. Father had never spoken of it but they had learned about it during their history lessons and it had seemed terrible. Her thoughts were interrupted by the guards bringing Ramsey out. He had been stripped of his armor and was filthy from his time in the dungeon, though he had not been there long. Still there was an almost child-like quality about him, made even my prominent by the wide grin which split his face at the sight of Jeyne.
"Ah, good wife, how kind of you come and wish me gods speed." At his words Jeyne shuddered and drew closer to Sansa. At this his grin grew even wider.
"Oh don't cry. Just think of our short but happy time of wedded bliss and that should bring a smile to your face, it does to mine." Hate flared up in Sansa and she would have struck him had the guards not hustled him past them and secured to the stake. Once this was done Lady Melisandre, torch in hand, stepped forward, turned to look at the assembly and began to speak.
"Lord of Light defend us. For the night is dark and full of terrors. We offer the blood of the scion of the Red Kings. Accept this offering and end the snow. Clear us a path to the true King's foes and grant him victory. For the Night is dark and full of terrors."
"For the night is dark and full of terrors." Said the devout, echoing her words. Sansa, the Northmen and many of the mercenaries remained silent.
As soon as they were done the Red Woman turned and placed the torch to the wood. Due to the oil in the world the fire quickly spread and within moments smoke and flames engulfed the bound man. Though Sansa could no longer see him, she could hear him. Due to smoke trying to choke him the sounds were not clear but they seemed like a strange and horrifying mixture laughter and screams. Sansa looked at Jeyne, expecting her to be looking away, but she was not. She was staring at the fire with rapt attention and a look which Sansa could not quite decipher. The sounds seemed to last forever but really it was only a matter of minutes before he fell silent. There did not seem to be anymore words and the assembly broke up.
After that Sansa and her party moved into Winterfell. The King and his family, as was their right, took what had been Sansa's parents' room for their own use. Sansa did not mind this in the slightest. She found that she was not ready to sleep there and she was not sure if she ever would be. She returned to her own room. It was not as it had been when she left but this too did not bother her overly much, while part of her wished that it was the same, another part of her hoped that by everything being different there would be fewer ghosts to plague her. As Jeyne and the servant lent to her by her uncle unpacked her things she left to walk about Winterfell.
It was worse than she had feared. Everywhere were reminders of the way things had been before. She kept turning corners expecting to see Arya chasing Bran and Rickon, to see Robb practicing with Theon or to see Mother and Father and Maester Luwin talking on serious matters and Nan asking if she wanted to hear a story while the wolves slept by the fire. But they were not there, Arya was missing and the rest were dead and gone and they were not coming back. Yes, everywhere were things to bring back memories where simultaneously both bitter and sweet. However; the Boltons had left their mark on Winterfell and these served to mare those memories. She paused when she realized that her steps had taken her to the doors leading to the great hall. She stared at them for a moment and then opened the doors and went inside.
The hall seemed curiously bare, they had taken down the Bolton banners but the Stark banners had not yet been put up. Looking at the end of the hall she saw what she had been both hoping and dreading to see, the Boltons had not removed her father's chair. She looked about the hall and saw servants at work. There was to be a feast to celebrate the King's victory and they were making the hall ready.
"Leave me." Sansa commanded. They stared at her for a moment and then departed.
Once they were gone Sansa took a deep breath and walked towards the seat. This seat had seen generations of Starks come and go. This had been Father's seat, this had been Robb's seat and now it was hers. She had seen it all of her life and yet looking at it now it seemed more intimidating than the Iron Throne. Chiding herself for her cowardice she walked forward to stand before it, she gathered her courage, took another deep breath, closed her eyes and sat down. As she took her seat she felt the weight of all the Starks before her settle on her shoulders. She had never wanted this and had never expected it but it was hers. She opened her eyes and stared out at the empty hall, it seemed appropriate.
I am Sansa Stark, she thought. Lady of Winterfell, Wardeness of the North…and Queen of ghosts.
Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I hoped you liked the chapter even if it was on the short side. Sorry if the death was too brief for you. As you know from my mentioning of Jesus I am a Christian and I have been wondering if I went overboard a few times with the deaths. Don't worry, people will get what they deserve but not drawn out torture sense, maybe. Other than that what did you think of it? I have some ideas and plot twists ahead so stay tuned. Till then please pray for all who need it and thank you to those who prayed for Pastor Saeed and the Pastor who was shot but they say will pull through, Jesus saw fit in his plans to answer them in the affirmative. Thanks again and may Jesus bless you.