The afternoon sun trickled through the large windows in the Great Hall, as the Lords and Ladies returned from the break, after being served hot beef stew accompanied by White Harbor ale. The latter added laughter to the chatter as they filed into the hall and took their seats.
This time, the top table was arranged slightly differently. Lady Stark and Theon sat at a table at the side, along with Rickon. As this was Ramsay's trial, the only ones at the top table were Lord Stark, Jon and Sansa.
Sat at the table opposite Lady Stark and Theon, were the witnesses. They were Robb, Tormund, and Sam. Sansa herself would act as a witness. Jon was officially the offended party, as Sansa was his wife. With Ramsay as a bastard, hers and Robb's words should be enough in the eyes of the Lords, even if Tormund's word wasn't trusted. Sam was to read the injuries sustained by both Sansa and Ser Barristan.
Stood at the end of the hall were two guards. Once everyone was settled and quiet, Lord Stark nodded to the two men. It was time for them to collect Ramsay from the dungeons. Jon ran his fingers through Ghost's fur, to quell his anger. From under the table, Sansa grabbed hold of his other hand and squeezed it. He turned to her and tried to give her a reassuring smile. She had twice been through hell and back with Ramsay Snow. Jon was going to put an end to him once and for all.
Ramsay was wheeled in on a barrow as he could no longer walk without a stick since his ankle had been chewed off. Letting him near a walking aid would be dangerous, thus he had to be pushed around and shackled to a wheelbarrow.
Once he was in front of the table, which was perched on the dais, Lord Stark began. "Ramsay Snow, natural born son of Lord Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort, I accuse you of the following crimes; the attempted rape of my daughter, Lady Sansa Whitestark, the attempted murder of Ser Barristan Selmy, the murder of several Freefolk in the Gift. How do you plead?"
Ramsay rolled his eyes. "Not guilty," he sneered. "Nobody saw me do anything to either Ser Barristan or your precious little daughter."
Ghost bared his teeth at Ramsay. Greywind and even the ever-placid Lady growled at him.
"Our wolves were there," Jon smiled.
"What do wolves have to do with it, other than biting my ankle off, bastard," Ramsay spat.
Jon didn't flinch at the insult, after all, he wasn't a bastard. Even if he was, he'd learned to use the name as a shield. However, he would resort to such pettiness with Ramsay, tempting as it was.
"They have everything to do with it," Jon replied. "My wolf tore off your ankle. He was protecting my wife, his mistress."
"That beast is wild, just like the rest of them."
"The wolves are well trained and wouldn't hurt anyone unless they harmed one of their pack," Lord Stark said. "I'm sure everyone in this room can attribute to that. After all, they have been marvelling, mingling and petting the wolves ever since the Lords and Ladies arrived for the meeting." A mixture of voices murmured in agreement throughout the room.
"It is my word against hers," Ramsay snorted.
"The word of a bastard versus that of a highborn Lady," Jon raised an eyebrow. "You were found by her brother, Lord Robb, a highborn heir who will inherit not only Winterfell but will become warden of the north."
Ramsay laughed in that manic way of his. "It is a setup. I was trying to help the young Lady. She was accosted by Stark soldiers, who tried to rape her. I saved her life," he said with pride in his voice. "The wolf mistook me for being her attacker. I fear Lady Sansa misremembers the incident. She has likely blocked out the attempt on her life. It is not uncommon."
"Our wolves make no mistakes, Ramsay. I will give you an example," Jon turned to Ghost. "Up, boy," he commanded. Ghost stood and stared at Jon, awaiting his next command. "Go find the man who was drinking with Tormund last night," he said, as laughter erupted around the room.
Ghost walked around the room, sniffing at the men and women until he sat right in front of Greatjon Umber. Jon was about to ask Ghost to return to him when the wolf did the same with Oberyn Martell and then the Blackfish. Even Jon was stunned. He only knew about Lord Umber.
"Are these the right men?" Jon asked.
"Aye," Greatjon nodded.
"He was paying close attention. HAR, probably wanted some of the goats' milk for himself," Tormund laughed.
"Party tricks. Anyone can teach a dog to do something like that." Ramsay sounded bored.
"I wasn't aware of the last two," Jon said. "As everyone in this room, except Lord Manderly, can testify, I wasn't present when Prince Oberyn and the Blackfish joined the drinking group."
"It means nothing!" Ramsay said.
"We shall see," Jon said as Ghost returned to him and curled up at his feet again. "Robb Stark, I would call you as a witness," he announced.
Robb stood up and walked over to Ramsay. "Can you tell me what happened?" Jon asked.
"We knew someone was killing the Freefolk, especially those with red hair," Robb told those in the Great Hall. "Sansa devised a plan where she would take the place of one of the fisherwomen down at the lake where the attacks had been happening. She was under protection all the time. She had Ser Barristan and Stark guards, or so we thought. The guards were Bolton soldiers, who attacked both Sansa and Ser Barristan. I found Sansa not long after she was attacked, one of her wounds was still bleeding," Robb cast his eyes to the floor. "We didn't find Ser Barristan until the following day. He is lucky to be alive, for he was gravely wounded."
"Thank you, Robb," Jon said. "You can sit for now." Robb retook his seat. "I think it is time to discuss the wounds Lady Sansa received," Jon announced. "Samwell Tarly," he called out to Sam.
Sam stood up and blushed to the roots of his hair. "My name is Samwell Tarly, son of Randyll Tarly, Lord of Horn Hill," he introduced himself. "I wanted to become a Maester and was helping Maester Fell in Queenscrown to look after both Lady Sansa and Ser Barristan."
Lord Stark took over the questioning, as Jon couldn't hold his temper. "Samwell, what injuries did Sansa sustain?" he asked.
Sam looked awkward as Jon knew Ramsay had hurt Sansa in certain places, which wasn't mentioned in detail. He picked up his book and read his notes.
"Lady Sansa suffered bruised ribs, both left and right. She had a black eye, and her lips were split. Her clothes had been ripped from her. There were signs on her back that she had been kicked, as there were bruises everywhere. There was a knife wound, on her lower abdomen," Sam told the audience.
Jon was grateful for Sam's description of the location of the knife wound.
"Anything else?" Lord Stark asked.
"Bruising on her legs where she had been kicked, and a bite mark on her shoulder, although it was faint. I suspect that was when Ghost attacked.
"She's a slut, she was asking for it. She fucks her bastard brother," Ramsay gloated.
"Shall we move onto the wounds of Ser Barristan?" Lord Stark asked.
"Four arrows shot him. I cannot say whether he was set upon. He had multiple bruises, which would be consistent with men setting upon him. However, he fell off the bridge and into the river, where there were many rocks. He knocked his head, which left him unconscious. The fall into the rocks could also explain his injuries," Sam said. "He is lucky to be alive, for he was in the water for some time, albeit his body and not his head. Had he been in there for much longer, he would have died from his injuries. It was fortunate he was dressed as one of the Freefolk. Their clothes can withstand cold and wet weather. Those clothes saved his life."
"I wasn't there," Ramsay yelled.
"No, but the soldiers who carried out the attack were your men," Robb retorted.
"Thank you, Sam," Jon said. "You can sit back down."
Sam nodded and returned to his seat, Sansa stood up. They had discussed this the previous night. Jon didn't want her to have to relive the attack. If it were his choice, she wouldn't be here. However, Sansa insisted on testifying against him. She said there was evidence which could point the finger at Roose Bolton and must be heard. Therefore, Lord Stark was to question her instead of Jon.
"Lady Whitestark, could you tell us what happened that day?" Lord Stark asked.
"We discovered someone was murdering the Freefolk, mainly women. At first, we suspected it was someone who had a grudge against them and was trying to create a division between the Freefolk and the locals," she said, addressing the Lords and Ladies. "However, there was a theme, most of his victims were women with red hair. We suspected he was after me. So I went down to the lake to fish, like the rest of his victims. I took guards and Ser Barristan with me. Everything was fine until I made it to return home. He crept up on me and knocked me to the ground," she said.
Jon hadn't heard the entire story, and in some ways, he didn't want to think of Sansa being attacked. However, he couldn't escape. His stomach churned at what was to come.
"He said even if I screamed my soldiers wouldn't help as most were under his command and the ones loyal to House Stark were dead. He said his hounds would finish them. He wanted me to be fed to them as he wanted to name a hound Sansa, but he had been ordered not to touch me," she said, her chin held high.
"He had the dagger Jon gave me and wanted to use it on me, but he had been instructed not to touch my face. However, he decided he could get away with using the dagger on my body. He said Jon was a bastard and he would probably carve me up anyway," she turned around to Jon with a wan smile.
"Lies, all lies," Ramsay cried out.
"He insisted Jon was my bastard brother, and talked about what he thought happened in mine and Jon's chambers when we were alone. Then he took my clothes and small clothes off," Jon could see she started shaking. He wanted to get up and console her, but the look she gave him was an order to stay seated.
"He said he wanted to use his mouth on me and then tell Jon before he..." Sansa took a deep breath. "I believe the exact words were 'Before I sever his cock, and offer him up as a feast to my hounds'," she said. Gasps of shock could be heard, but Sansa wasn't finished. "He was deciding where to cut me. He suggested several private areas. Then he said it was a pity he couldn't fuck me, as it sounded as if he'd had orders not to do so. Instead, he considered something else," she shivered in disgust.
Jon didn't need to ask what it was, he already suspected what Ramsay had wanted. He clenched his fist, desperate to pummel Ramsay's face once more. The mere thought of the monster touching Sansa made him feel sick.
"Then Ghost, Jon's direwolf, showed up and saved me. He bit off Ramsay's foot, making sure he stayed alive but unable to hurt me," she smiled at the white direwolf with pride. "If it weren't for him, I'd have been kidnapped."
"Who could have ordered such a thing?" Lord Stark asked.
Much to the surprise of Jon, and her reaction, Sansa Lord Varys stood. "If I may, my Lord," Varys bowed his head.
"Please, take the floor," Lord Stark said. "Unless Sansa has anything to add.
Sansa shook her head and returned to her seat, next to Jon. It was only then he could see the tears in her eyes. Jon's heart broke. He took her hand in his and kissed the back of her knuckles.
"I'm so proud of you," he whispered into her ear. As Jon did, he noticed Lady Stark, being held by Robb as she cried for what her eldest daughter had experienced.
Sansa gave a small smile before they turned their attention to Varys, who stood in the middle of the Great Hall, with his hands in front of him, tucked in his long sleeves, as usual.
"My Lords and Ladies," Varys started. "Although we may not have met before, I'm sure you know who I am, by my somewhat unusual appearance and reputation."
A murmur rippled throughout the audience.
"Tywin Lannister sent me north to arrange a match between Lady Whitestark and Ser Jaime Lannister. He also planned to wed Cersei to Edmure Tully and Tyrion to Lysa Arryn."
A gasp of shock trickled through the hall.
Varys continued. "I also have it on good authority, Roose Bolton met with Kevan Lannister and Black Walder Frey. I have no information regarding what was discussed, but I fear it is no coincidence that he did not attend the meeting, to at least try to save his son," he gave Ramsay a sad look, which was almost condescending.
"He wanted Lord Whitestark dead and for me to kidnap Lady Whitestark to wed Ser Jaime," Ramsay claimed.
"I cannot say whether your words are true," Lord Varys said. "However, Lord Tywin sent me to kill Lord Whitestark."
Various murmurs and gasps of shock echoed throughout the room.
"Why didn't you kill me?" Jon asked.
"I have my reasons, which I believe you are aware of. I was to give you Tears of Lys. Certain information dissuaded me from doing so. I also suspect Lord Tywin has other plans for Ser Jaime due to the death of King Joffrey."
"Do you think Ramsay was sent to kidnap Sansa for Lord Tywin and kill me?" Jon asked.
Varys shook his head. "I doubt it. Tywin Lannister is no fool. He wouldn't send someone like Ramsay Snow to kill a Lord in such a violent manner. However, it appears Lord Bolton's bastard was aware of this plan. It could be, that Lord Bolton suggested he carry out the deed, hoping to be rewarded by Lord Lannister. But that seems a little far-fetched. I suspect he overheard a conversation and took it upon himself to carry out the deed, hoping to be recognised and legitimised as a trueborn Bolton."
"My father told me to do it," Ramsay spat. "They were his men. He told me to do it but claimed I did it without his consent. Tywin would have been happy enough to legitimise me."
That was all that was needed. Ramsay had confessed and had even insinuated he had been told to do it by Roose Bolton. Should Ramsay fail, Roose's hands would be clean as the word of a bastard like Ramsay carried no weight. If he succeeded, Tywin would get his wish granted.
Lord Stark stood, this was the verdict, Jon was sure.
"Ramsay Snow, natural born son of Lord Roose Bolton. You have been tried for the murder of the Freefolk, the attempted rape and kidnapping of Lady Sansa Whitestark, and the attempted murder of Ser Barristan Selmy. Men under your command murdered my soldiers for no reason other than for self-gain. As such, I find you guilty of all crimes. I sentence you to die," he said, his head turning to Jon.
Jon stood. "Ramsay Snow, I concur with Lord Stark. As the husband of Lady Whitestark, I am at liberty to offer amnesty and send you to the Wall, or sentence you to die. However, the nature of your person suggests you would not be suitable for the Night's Watch, which means my only alternative is execution."
"What about trial by combat?" Ramsay asked.
"Of course, that is an option," Jon agreed. "Do you have anyone in mind who will be your champion, bearing in mind they will face me?"
Ramsay looked to the men in the room, hoping someone would step forward to help him, but no one wished to help him.
"It appears you have no champion," Jon said. "Therefore, I sentence you to die this afternoon. You will be executed in the yard in half an hour," he turned to Lord Stark. "Can I have a pail for his head to fall into?" he asked as the Lords and Ladies filed out of the Great Hall.
"Why?" Ned asked.
"To keep the yard clean of blood and because I need some for the hatching," Jon replied. "Now I need to go change.
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Jon returned to his chambers alone and changed into the attire he had chosen for the beheading. When he returned to the yard, his cloak was fixed around his shoulders, with Longclaw at his hip, ready to do the deed.
Sansa was waiting with her family. Lady Stark who clung to her daughter for dear life, while Robb looked on, ashen-faced. Jon waited until the rest of the Lords and Ladies arrived before Ramsay was brought to the chopping block by Theon, who had a solemn look. It was clear the details of Sansa's ordeal had upset him.
On the other side of the bloodstained block was a wooden pail, ready to catch the head of the monster who had attacked his wife.
Jon unsheathed Longclaw and Sansa approached to remove his cloak. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she whispered. "Is it the right time?"
"I don't think there will ever be a right time," Jon replied.
Sansa nodded, unclipped his cloak, removed it from his shoulders and held it. Beneath, he wore plain black breeches made from wool with a black tunic. His surcoat was black and of the finest silk. Throughout was dark red embroidery, which if one looked up close, the occasional three-headed dragon could be found. He finished the look off with black leather gloves. The black was so prominent, from a distance he looked like he was dressed all in black.
Ramsay looked up at him, noticing the sigil on the coat. Jon gave him a sly smile. "Guess what, bastard. I'm trueborn."
Ramsay realised what Jon meant and stared at him in shock, while Jon held his sword point down. He bowed his head for a moment of reflection.
Jon took a deep breath before he spoke loud and clear. "I, Aegon of House Targaryen, Prince of the realm, rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms, sentence you to die," he added the word 'bastard' at the end, but only loud enough for Ramsay to hear.
Jon lifted the sword, and with a swift motion, he removed Ramsay's head from his body. The thud of his head was the only sound to be heard in the whole courtyard.