He will ask Sansa what she wants

The fire popped. A log shifted, sending up a spray of sparks.

Jon turned fully toward her now, the warmth of the hall suddenly too close.

“Is **** too good for Lord Baelish?” he asked, voice low, almost gentle.

Sansa’s answer came without hesitation. She straightened, the tremor gone, replaced by something colder and older than winter.

“**** is quick,” she said. “**** is mercy. He doesn’t deserve mercy.”

Jon stepped closer, the power thrumming behind his teeth like a second heartbeat.

“You want him defeated,” he said, tasting each word before he let it fall. “Broken. Emasculated. Punished so severely that every man in the Seven Kingdoms will remember what happens when someone lays a hand on a wolf. You want him alive, but never, ever able to hurt you again.”

Sansa’s eyes met his, fierce and glittering.

“Yes,” she whispered. “All of that. Exactly that.”

The idea bloomed in Jon’s mind, bright and vicious and perfect.

Emasculated.

Not gelding (crude, quick, forgettable). Something deeper. Something that would crawl inside Petyr Baelish’s skull and live there forever.

Jon let the silence stretch just long enough for the fire to hiss again.

“There’s a way,” he said slowly, “a way to strip him of everything he thinks makes him a man. His cunning. His charm. His pride. His name. His very desire to scheme or climb or touch what isn’t his. A way to leave the body breathing… but the man inside already buried.”

He watched her face, searching for horror, for doubt. He found none.

“Would you want that, Sansa?” he asked, softer still. “For him to wake every morning knowing exactly what he lost, and knowing it was because of you?”

Sansa drew a slow breath. When she spoke, her voice did not shake.

“I want to look him in the eyes when it happens,” she said. “I want to be there when the last piece of him breaks. I want him to see me standing over what’s left… and remember whose daughter I am.”

Jon felt the power surge, eager, almost laughing.

He reached out and took her hand (cold fingers in cold fingers) and squeezed once.

“Then we’ll give him to you,” he said.