Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I am glad that you liked the last chapter and I hope you like this one as well. As always I own nothing.
Dawn broke over Winterfell. As the cock crowed Sansa stretched and crawled out of her bed. She had never been a morning person and in the past she had slept till almost breakfast time. However; as Lady of Winterfell, she no longer had that option. She was expected to be up about her business practically at dawn. Looking back Sansa thought she could remember her father occasionally being irritable in the morning as well. In addition to not being a morning person, Sansa had not slept well. The upcoming execution weighed on her mind. She had no compulsion about Myranda's approaching death, the girl had tried to kill her and had aided in Ramsay's atrocities. Rather it was the waiting, every time she had caused deaths she had felt a buildup of nervous energy and she was feeling it now, depriving her of sleep. Also, there was the fact that she intended to do the deed here herself. She had not announced that fact yet and she knew that many would not approve, but it had to be her.
"The man who passed the sentence should swing the sword." Her father had always said that. She had heard that Robb had lived by that belief and if she desired to rule she would have to do so as well. Oh, she knew that as a woman she could have someone else perform the deed and no one would say anything against her, but in their hearts they would say if a male Stark was ruling they would do the deed themselves. This would make her appear a less capable leader and lessen her peoples' faith in her. No, if Myranda was to die it would have to be at Sansa's hand.
The only point of concern for her was the fact that the execution would have to be witnessed. In the past when she had taken lives it had been in private, unseen by any but her victims. This death, on the other hand, would be seen by others and it would impact the way she was seen by those around her. While she did not mind killing the girl she did not want to be known as a killer. Not only might it hamper her attempts at future vengeance, but she found that she did not want others, Brienne in particular, to see her that way. The larger woman looked at her as if she was a strong yet gentle lady, like her mother had been. Once she took Myranda's life that image would be gone forever. In a way it was her last link to her past life, back before they had gone south and everything had gone wrong.
Sansa gave an angry shake of her head. That life was gone and nothing was ever going to bring it back. It was more important to gain the respect of her lords and the security that could bring than hanging on to the illusion that things were ever going to be like they were before. With that she called her maid to dress her for the trip to the place of execution. As Myranda was no one of any importance her execution would not draw any eyes, the only ones who would see her die would be Sansa, Brienne, Sir Massey and Myranda's guards.
When the time came Sansa went out to the courtyard and mounted her horse. At her side trotted the wolf whom Sansa had controlled and whom seemed to have bonded with her. He was neither as big nor as gentle as Lady had been and he made the servants nervous. To ensure that there was no incidents Sansa kept the wolf near her at all times during the day and it slept on her bed at night. After pondering on a name she had chosen Silver Fang to reflect both his color and his ferocity.
Brienne and Sir Massey were already there, mounted upon her own horse, as were the guards and Myranda. Brienne gave Sansa a look which was a mixture of concern and disapproval. As Sansa mounted she began to speak.
"My lady, it is not necessary for you to attend. I can go in your place and confirm for you that the deed is done." Sansa smiled and shook her head.
"I am afraid that that is not possible. I passed the sentence and Father always said that the one who passes the sentence should be present when the sentence is carried out." Brienne looked as if she wanted to protest further, but she held her peace and the party set off.
They rode to the place where the Starks traditionally performed executions. As Sansa waited the guards took Myranda and placed her neck on the stump and then looked at each other, clearly not sure who was going to carry out the sentence. Sansa dismounted and walked up to the stump. Stooping down so that their faces were close together Sansa repeated the sentence and asked the girl if she had any last words. Myranda spat in her face.
"Hells take you wolf-devil!" Sansa nodded and reached inside her cloak and took out the dagger that she had placed there.
Sansa lacked the strength to strike Myranda's head from her shoulders and had no intention of attempting to do so. Instead, she thrust the blade in as it would go into the side of Myranda's neck and dragged it across her throat to the other side. Blood sprayed out, landing on Sansa's face, arm and body. The places where the blood landed felt pleasantly warm. Sansa rose and turned to look at the shocked faces of Brienne and Sir Massey.
"Lady Stark!" Brienne finally managed. Before she could speak further Sansa interrupted.
"My father always said that the man, or in this case woman, who passed the sentence must also be the one who carries it out. I condemned her to death, I owed it to her to do the deed myself." Sir Massey gave a laugh.
"I am not sure that she would thank you my lady." Sansa looked at Myranda.
Unlike a beheading a throat-cutting did not kill instantly and she bucked about in her last moments of life. At her signal the guards released her and she flopped about on the ground for a moment or two and then was still. Sansa stared at the body for a moment and then turned back to the knight.
"I suppose not, but tradition is tradition." With that she turned, wiped the blood off on Myranda's clothing, Silver Fang lapping the blood from her face as she did so and sheathed her blade as she returned to her horse." As they rode back Brienne looked troubled, at last she spoke.
"That was not necessary my lady, I could have done the deed for you." Sansa smiled at her.
"I know, but the Starks have always performed their own executions." Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Sir Massey snorting. At Brienne's glare he raised his hand in a conciliatory manner.
"Forgive my ladies, this morning's activities has given me a thought." He turned to look at Sansa
"Is it true that members of your family often have sobriquets which reference wolves?" Sansa nodded.
"Yes, my father was, 'The Quiet Wolf' and my brother was 'The Young Wolf.'" Sir Massey nodded.
"Well, in light of you recent actions, I think I have a name for you. 'The Blood Wolf.'" Brienne looked angry, but Sansa again stalled her.
"Sir Massey, I think I like that." As she spoke she found that she had to suppress the urge to laugh as well.
Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I hope that you liked it. What did you think of her nickname? Let me know in the comments. Till next time please pray for Becca Schofield, who has terminal cancer and all who need prayer. Bye and may Jesus bless you.