Flayer

55. Edda

Ramsay and I, accompanied by Lord Smalljon Umber, Harald Kastark and some other soldiers, rode outside the gates of Winterfell. In the near distance I could see Jon, Sansa, Lady Mormont, and Ser Davos awaiting us.

As we approached Ramsay whispered, "Remember who your real family is."

We halted in front of them. Once again, and perhaps for the last time, I stood before my siblings. Sansa's steel glare bore sharply at Ramsay while Jon's gentle eyes found mine. The hurt in them made my heart soften.

I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to go to war against Sansa and Jon, who loved me. I must not let myself cry, I told myself.

Ramsay smiled menacingly, "Siblings-in-law! How good to see you once again. I'm terribly sorry you couldn't make it to our wedding, though I do recall Lady Mormont gracing us with her presence."

Lyanna Mormont's look of disgust showed the courage she possessed.

My husband continued, "Though I cannot praise that you stole my beloved wife from me," he placed his hand on my thigh, knowing that Jon's eyes would follow, "I do have to thank you for the care you've given her. You wouldn't like to know what I would've done to you had she returned with a single scratch." He chuckled.

Sansa surprised us by speaking first, "And I suppose the 'R' on her face was a self-inflicted scratch? Would you like to know what we will do to you for what you've done to her after the battle is won?"

Ramsay looked over at me sweetly, a signal for me to speak on his behalf. I held my chin up as I looked at both of my siblings. The words couldn't come out at first. It wasn't until I felt Ramsay's grip on my thigh tighten that I remembered what I had practiced saying yesterday: "Winterfell and I both belong to Lord Ramsay Bolton, for I his wife am the Heir to Winterfell. We are the rightful Wardens of the North."

Pleased, Ramsay let go of me. "Now, dismount and kneel before me. Surrender your army. Proclaim Lady Edda Bolton and I, Lord Ramsay Bolton, the rightful Wardens of the North. Do so and I will pardon you for deserting the Night's Watch, and I will pardon these treasonous lords for betraying my house." Jon stayed silent, making Ramsay laugh, "Under the leadership of your sister and I the North has thrived, surviving the treacherous attempt at independence that your brother began and re-entered the good graces of the crown of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Wasn't your House in favor of Northern independence before your father betrayed Robb and stabbed him in the heart?" Sansa snapped back.

"My father? Whom my wife stabbed in the neck as revenge for his atrocity?" he looked over at me, "How could you try to take the North away from the girl who avenged the death of your mother and brother?" He stroked my face lightly to put on a show, kissing my cheek before turning back to Jon, "All this senseless fighting for what? So you could steal the North away from one who really deserves it?"

"Aye, you're right," Jon smirked, "It's a senseless battle. There's no need for one. Thousands of men don't need to die. Only one of us. Let's end this the old way, you against me."

I looked over at Ramsay in fear. He'd never win against Jon... yet if he did that would mean Jon's death. No matter the outcome I'd suffer.

Ramsay licked his lips in an attempt to hide his anger, pointing at Jon "They say you're one of the greatest swordfighters the North's ever known. But you do not have the greatest army. I have six thousand men... How many do you have? Half? Not even?"