Overcoming Torment

A/N: Hello everyone. So sorry for the huge delay between updates compared to my usual standards. A LOT has happened to me since early May but among the big things that have caused setbacks in writing is the fact that I got really, really sick by getting a mix of covid and influenza at the same time. Took me a long time to recover and after that, I needed to focus on all the work I missed. Well, that and back in May I wanted to update my Star Wars fanfic at least a few times in a row because of the anniversaries and new show that was getting released.

But anyway, I am back now and while I am still busy with work, I would like to make up for lost time. So, I hope you enjoy this chapter, since, among other things, it features something so many of you have said you couldn't wait to read about, in the comment section: Sansa's last true conversation with Ramsay now that he is defeated, before his execution. Now, what exactly could she have to say there that would be different from the show, I wonder? Well, read to find out, I guess!

Thanks for the patience and have fun!

By the time Arya Stark woke up, she realized that her sister Sansa was no longer in her bed. Blinking rapidly, she yawned and after washing her face a bit with water from the bowl on the nearby table, she spend the next few minutes getting herself decent enough to go to the Great Hall of Ironrath to break her fast. After all, the former Faceless Acolyte imagined she would find her family there, along with most of the Lords and Ladies that spent the night as guests of House Forrester.

When she arrived, she did find Rickon eating and talking a bit with the youngest highborn on the table, Lady Mormont, Talia Forrester, and Ryon Forrester but then Arya frowned realizing that she didn't see her eldest sister and brother in the Great Hall. So, after a brief nod of acknowledgment to his little sibling's new friends, she asked him where Jon and Sansa were.

Rickon finished swallowing a piece of bread and told her that the White Harbor reinforcements that Lord Manderly had sent their way 2 days earlier had managed to arrive on their fastest but now really tired horses. So, they went to speak with them and put to them work guarding the prisoners so that some of their bannermen could get proper rest for the first time since the battle the previous night.

Arya frowned at that. Her first instinct would have been to complain that they arrived too late to help, like her mother used to complain about the "late" Walder Frey long before even the Red Wedding, Still, given the distance between the outskirts of White Harbor and the Wolfswood, they must have nearly killed their horses in their attempt to arrive fast enough to come to their aid. Between that and Ramsay marching his own army to attack them sooner than anticipated, she had to begrudgingly admit that they did all they could even if they didn't actually fight by their side. So she shrugged in acceptance, deciding that their aid in relieving their tired guards would still be useful.

All the same, Arys soon realized that she wasn't that hungry yet. So, wanting to see her other siblings too so as to make sure they were still alive and that no other gods were going to pull another cruel and bloody trick on her to shatter her family reunion, she gave Rickon one last smile and headed out the door to look for them.

Eventually, she reached the courtyard of the Forrester keep and found it alight with activity, with soldiers guarding prisoners that wouldn't fit inside the occupied cells of Ironrath, repairing equipment damaged in the battle, and also covering the grim task of accommodating the bodies as respectfully as possible, with mourners gathering around once they identified the faces of their loved ones.

She sighed at that and soon gritted her teeth, cursing Ramsay's name yet again. Eventually, though, she spotted her siblings from afar and picked up the pace. By the time she arrived though, they had dismissed the White Harbor Landed Knights that were leading their reinforcement but then, she heard her sister call out something to Jon, which she was unable to hear due to the sound of the wind.

She slowed down a bit at that, tilting her head almost imperceptibly as she paid attention to what was clearly a serious exchange. In time, she got within earshot.

"...like we discussed then?" Jon asked her with a solemn tone.

Sansa nodded, her eyes only on him. "I still need a few minutes alone with him first. But yes, I would like you to join me later, as we discussed."

Jon took a deep breath and then smiled at her sadly. "Whatever you need for this one. We moved him to another cell, the deepest one in Ironrath, and tightened the guard after he spent much of the night using a very small and hidden knife to cut his ropes. He didn't get far or managed to kill anyone in his escape attempt but he did stab one of the guards. And since Lord Rodrik has his own reasons to want to bring Ramsay to justice, he ended up beating him hard enough to make make the head wound he got from Rickon's stone throw bleed a lot all over his face. But he stopped himself quickly since he knows it would be better for all of us to see him executed in public," He stressed. "That way, we can show the Northerners that we don't need to fear him any longer."

Then he locked his gaze with their sister and nodded. "Say your piece. I will be there when you need me."

With that, Sansa took a deep breath and walked towards the dungeons with her chin held high, determination heavy in her stride. And besides her, the reborn Lady followed close behind. Jon watched them go, his own direwolf staying put and for a moment, Arya examined his face. He had gotten better at hiding his feelings in the past few years, she had to admit, but she still knew him well enough to decipher his face, especially with her new life experiences by that point.

"You really do love her, don't you?" She asked him in a whisper as she finally got beside him.

Jon looked startled for a moment but then he glance to the side and saw it was her, which soon enough made him sigh. But soon, enough he nodded at her.

"And so, I hate what that sadistic **** put her through," He added, tightening his jaw. "So, if it makes me physically ill when my mind dwells on it too much, I can only imagine how it makes her feel."

Arya's eyes narrowed at that, and she gripped the sheath of Dark Sister, a blade she not keeping out of her sight anytime soon, tightly. "I want to kill him. I want to make him suffer."

Jon looked at her with a look of understanding, before inhaling sharply. "You and me both. But you are not training to be a Faceless Assassin anymore, Arya. There is a way we handle things like this in Westeros to make sure they are socially acceptable and aligned with law and justice, even if the ideal doesn't always match the reality. And you and I both know that father never condoned ****, especially for long.

She knew that her brother was right but she still couldn't keep some outrage from seeping into her tone. "So, you are just going to behead him? That's too good for him and you know it."

The secret god glanced around for a moment at the people nearby that were in the middle of their own activities before looking back at her.

"That's why I am not beheading him," He admitted. "I discussed it with Sansa and, as the Stark that suffered most at Ramsay's hands, I allowed her to pick the execution method as long as it was quick and it also allowed me to swing the sword in a way. And she actually came up with a very...creative idea for that."

Arya raised an eyebrow at that. "Really? Well, now I am curious. Does it have to do with your she-dragon?"

Jon nodded. She thought about it some more.

"Is she going to eat Ramsay after freezing him?" She asked, the idea making her smirk fiercely.

Her brother snorted. "My Ice Dragon is not going to eat absolute filth if I can at all help it, so no. I will explain later since I need to head to the prison to be ready when Sansa calls for me. However, know that the method she picked will not just ensure that justice is served quickly and satisfactorily but also honor the other aggrieved parties amongst our strongest allies. And yes, you will be able to get involved that way...if you want, that is."

"Are joking?! Of course, I want to!" She declared vehemently.

Jon looked at her for a long moment then sighed before placing a hand on her shoulder. "It may be for the best given all we have faced and still have yet to overcome," He said with a wistful tone, "but I must admit, knowing you are not a summer child anymore makes me a little sad."

Arya bit her bottom lip, as so many memories rushed into the forefront of her mind after that simple statement. They looked at each other in silence for a while after that, but they needn't have spoken. The regrets and challenges of their pasts that forged the path they now walked on were etched in their eyes.

Then her king of a brother shook his head. "Go keep Rickon some company, will you? I will go find you and explain everything later."

And with one last smile, he turned around and walked away, with Ghost following close behind.

Sansa Stark took a deep breath to center herself once she had reached the deepest part of her host's dungeons. She had told the guards to leave for the time being and now, finally, she stood before the dirty and bloodied face of her tormentor.

And it felt so good to see him tied up.

She stood there for a moment longer, committing the image to memory for one final reminder that he couldn't hurt her anymore. And then, finally, she allowed herself to get closer to the bars.

The sound of her steps alerted the despicable torturer of her presence and he started looking up.

With the sound of her name fresh on his bloodstained lips, he looked at her in such a way that he still seemed to believe he was completely in control. That he had still managed to win somehow.

The future queen knew better, of course, but it still was far from pleasant to listen to the bloody pile of shit coming out of his mouth.

"It seems our time together is about to come to an end," Ramsay acknowledged, his tone of voice surprisingly calm, all things considered. "But that's all right. Because you can't kill me, my dear wife," He declared, having the nerve to sound smug. "After all we have been through, I am a part of you now. You will never forget me."

Sansa Stark stared at him head-on with no change in her facial expression for a long moment. But before long, the chill of winter started pouring from her mouth.

"Your house will disappear," Sansa proclaimed, her voice barely above a whisper but loud enough to be heard. "Your words will disappear. Your name will disappear. And were it not for the fact that I have organized a public execution for you fitting enough to go down in history, I would say that all memory of you will disappear as well. But as much as I suffered at your hands, you vile sadist, your crimes have ensured that this has grown bigger than you and me," She recognized. "So, the way the North and our history will remember your final moments is one preservation of your memory I can live with."

Silence returned to the cell, with Ramsay starting to look genuinely uneasy for the first time. "I thought the Starks beheaded their condemned enemies."

"For the most part, we do," She acknowledged. "But it occurred to me that there was a way to honor our strongest allies whose families also suffered at your hands while keeping in with our tradition of swinging the sword on the guilty. So, allow me to congratulate you, Ramsay Bolton, for committing crimes heinous enough to become an exception to the rule," The victorious Lady of Winterfell told him, reveling in the morbid bit of sarcasm.

The violent **** pursed his lips but despite his attempts to portray calmness, she was able to notice him swallowing hard. It was almost enough to make her smile.

Almost.

Then she shook her head and proceeded with what she really wanted to get out of her chest.

"I hate you," She began simply enough, a furious glare on her face as all the memories started rushing in. "I hate your face that smiles so easily and disgustingly when you inflict torment on others. I hate your voice that echoed with delight every time you violated me. I hate the way you flayed people in such a way that it became obvious that what was terrible agony for them was a sport to you, and one that brought you joy no less. And I hate how your neverending games of depravity desecrated my childhood home."

Sansa paused then, giving him a moment for her words to sink in before she firmed her lips. "However, you are right about one thing: I will never forget you. Even after you have finished paying for your crimes, there is going to be a part of me that will always remember that you don't have to be a White Walker, a shambling walking corpse, or any other manner of magical horror to be a monster. Because you, the last Lord of House Bolton, have taught me that it pays to be on guard against the worst of human nature. And to stand firm when it counts, one way or another."

She took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the nearby torch that illuminated the cell before looking at her tormentor in the face as conviction swelled in her gut.

"This past year was especially harsh in many ways but it also taught me how to protect myself," The future queen declared. "Which is only fitting when you think about it, for the night is always darkest right before dawn. And now, I know that I am going to be a stronger leader than ever."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she felt determination flood her gaze.

"As soon as I have rid this world of your bloody stain, I am going to close this dark chapter of my past and focus on the future, a future in which I will thrive, do you hear me?" She demanded. "Everything I have been through HAS made me stronger, and now I am going to build my kingdom on your ashes."

The defeated usurper stared at her for a long time, the cell as quiet as a tomb after that exchange. For a time there, it even seem like he had looked at her with new eyes and even with grudging respect. But it was so brief a moment that she had to wonder if it was a trick of the light. And soon, his infuriating smile returned.

"Your kingdom?" Lord Bolton asked, chuckling. "So, you are planning to become queen after all, even though your dear brother is the king. Well, it seems I am not long for this world and spilling secrets so consider this question my final wish if you must: how exactly do intend to make that happen?"

For the first time since she started speaking her piece, Sansa had a real smile on her lips.

"I am so glad you ask," She said, actual mirth on her tone for once. "Because while I will be most pleased to answer that question if it is indeed your final wish, I had one other boon to grant you."

This time, Ramsay looked confused, clearly unsure of where the conversation was going. "What boon?"

"Why, the gift of knowledge of course," Sansa answered with a small smirk. "You can get closer now."

With that, footsteps echoed through their side of the prison and soon, King Jon stood beside her, giving her former tormentor a glare. But it only lasted a little while because then, he turned to look at her face and she saw nothing less than the promise of a bright future together reflected in his gaze.

And so, the future queen embraced her beloved brother and kissed him passionately. A gasp of genuine shock bounced off the walls immediately but she didn't care because, at that very moment, she was well and truly happy. And more than that, Sansa knew that she had meant what she said before.

Everything Ramsay stands for will feed the fires of her rebirth, and there is nothing he can do about it.

A/N: Well, I hope you had fun with this chapter because it has been long in the making. I had to rewrite certain parts more than once but overall, I am pleased with how it turned out. As always, the feedback is much appreciated so do tell me what you think, please.

And finally, for those that may be interested in that, I have another announcement: I have become a bit of a co-writer on another story here on Chyoa. It's called What Ifs and Elseworlds -- A Lesbian Multiverse by AltUAuthor. Together, we have come up with over a dozen chapters over the past couple of months, with me providing plenty of ideas for him to write about and we are actually planning for a sort of multiversal crossover event between the universes that take place in different branches soon so if you are curious about my newest contribution to another Chyoa story, please check it out and maybe a leave a few reviews. Would be most appreciated.

Anyway, until next time!