Parleys and Speeches

A/N: Hello there. This chapter will be a bit shorter than the last few but I hope you will enjoy it all the same, because I could name several of you that have told me repeatedly to their anticipation for the events therein. Let's see if it lives up to the hype.

Epigraph:

Of course, there are not that many of us left to fear these possibilities. I suppose that’s, in part, your point. After all, even the Light of your Seven closest allies has been shattered by now. Between all that and your imprisonment, enthusiastic hope must be hard to come by.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be cautious.

Sansa Stark looked on from the front of her group as a delegation of Lords split from the enemy army a started riding in their direction.

The archers among the Bolton forces seemed ready to act if hostilities broke out during the meeting but Sansa knew Ramsay well enough by then to understand that even he wouldn't try anything; not with the unusually fierce welcoming committee that would greet him. After all, aside from the Lords and Ladies that were following her along with their respective escorts of one or two guards staying close by, Magash Char had decided to arrive at the parley while riding one of the enormous mammoths the giants brought with them. Even if Ramsay gave the order to attack during the momentary truce, he would be smart enough to realize that Giant Chieftess, protected by her elaborate bone armor and the Forrester made Ironwood shield while carrying a 9 feet long steel war hammer would be enough to crush his smaller group before the arrows finish her off. And that was without counting her mammoth trying to stamped all over them.

As if all of that and her own grown direwolf guardian were not enough, Josera Snow had arrived alongside his large snowbear familiar. So, she felt confident enough in their security for the time being since their enemies would realize they will be the ones to die first if they break the diplomatic protocol.

And it was with that thought in mind that, from the distance, she finally glimpsed at the face of her smiling tormentor once again. Her jaw clenched as she remembered all the times he had **** her and played his twisted, manipulative games with her with a sadistic grin on his face.

Her nightmares had been fewer ever since her beloved brother came back into her life but she hadn't been able to fully rid herself of them.

Yet, she found herself smirking in satisfaction when he got much closer. Ramsay had lost his mocking sneer when he noticed she was riding her direwolf instead of a common horse and even started to detect traces of fear and uncertainty in his expression.

He quickly schooled his features and went for a seemingly knowing smile to give the impression that he was in control but it still felt oddly empowering to know that her tormentor had looked at his former victim and felt uneasy at the sight of her confident self.

"My wife," Ramsay proclaimed, infuriating her with the reminder that they are technically still married. "I have missed you terribly. Still, you look radiant this evening. Clearly, Starks thrive alongside direwolves that still have their heads."

Sansa's eyes darkened at the connotations but decided to proceed as planned instead of taking the bait in anger. She slowly petted Lady's head as her lips curled upwards.

"I am pleased you like my dress, as I made it myself and I am using it for the first time today," She revealed. "After all, it's only proper for widows to wear black for a time."

Her tormentor's eyes narrowed at that. "Now, Sansa, don't be like that. My patience has limits. And even with the additional backing that you have received from these treacherous lords and ladies," He said while waving at the group behind her, "we outnumber you more than two to one now that House Glover and House Cerwyn have listened to reason and pledged their allegiance to my cause. Even those giants won't be enough to save you."

At that, Magash Char scoffed, the strength of her voice carrying farther than an ordinary human sound. They glanced at her as she glared at Ramsay, and Sansa's smirk widened ever so slightly when she saw noticed his grip tighten on the reins of his horse.

"Puny...lord," She spat out.

"I have to give it to her," Sansa thought as she watched Ramsay scowl in distaste, "what Magash lacks in mastery of the common tongue, she makes up for it by making her fewer words count."

Before Ramsay could respond to her, however, the Lady of Winterfell in exile drew his attention again.

"Those lords and ladies you so casually dismiss are true and honorable Northerners, unlike the oathbreakers that follow...you," She remarked, shaking her head as disappointment and disgust leaked into her tone. "a monstrous sadist, a violent ****, and an obvious kinslayer."

She left her words hang in the air for a moment as she looked at the once-loyal lords that had turned on her at their hour of greatest need: Lords Karstark, Umber, Cerwyn, and Glover.

"So, tell me this, oathbreakers, who is more monstrous, the monster or the one who recognizes the monster for what he is and follows him anyway?"

There was a heavy pause after her philosophical question and for what was worth, she could spot hints of shame in the expressions of Lord Cerwyn and Lord Glover, while Lord Umber just looked tense. Lord Karstark, however, glared back at her.

"Don't lecture us on loyalty and morality, girl," He leered. "Oaths go both ways and House Stark lost any right to claim House Karstark's loyalty after your brother beheaded my father."

"That's debatable," Lady Mormont interjected, her tone sharp. "Given that Lord Rickard murdered defenseless children under King Robb's protection. In the eyes of the law, those are valid grounds for execution. Don't sound so surprised at the outcome."

The current Lord of Karhold seethed at the reminder but Ramsay silenced him with a gesture before he could lash out.

"I did not come here to stand by as you insult my supporters," Lord Bolton stated. "I came here to..."

"...gamble," Val responded. "You came to gamble in the hopes that you will be able to get us to surrender, or at least defeat us before King Jon arrives on his Ice Dragon. That's a bet you will lose; on all counts."

Ramsay stared at her for a moment his lips twitching a bit in annoyance over getting interrupted again.

"And you are?" He asked as he looked at her armored form up and down and the female warriors escorting her.

"I am Val, Princess of the Free Folk," She proclaimed. "These are some of my loyal spearwives."

Sansa gritted her teeth as Ramsay actually had the nerve to laugh.

"Oooh, the wildlings have a Princess leading them now?" He asked, amused. "Clearly Stannis smashed through your ranks even worse than I thought. Seems like I will be able to finish what he started much easier than I suspected. And I was the one that broke Stannis' army! Life is full of lovely little ironies, eh?"

Besides their leader, the spearwives tighten their grip on their weapons and glared daggers at him but said nothing as Val took one step forward.

"The last idiot who questioned my strength and leadership because I was a woman no longer has a cock to call himself a man," She declared, her eyes aflame. "Mock me at your own peril."

Ramsay gave out an exasperated sigh. "So, I know where the giants, the wildlings, the islanders, and my charming wife stand. But if any other lords present are willing to entertain wisdom, know that if you bend the knee and accept me as the true Warden of the North, I will pardon and your fortunate bannermen."

"We saw the value of your mercy and your word on the day you killed my brother Ethan after he had already bent the knee to you," Rodrik Forrester replied, his fists clenching. "And I swear to all the gods that you will pay for that."

Ramsay's jaw clenched at that, visibly annoyed with the fact that his argument had been torn to pieces. He gave one last look at Lord Glenmore, Rodrik's goodfather but quickly returned the scowl he was given.

"Very well, if that's how it's going to be, then you should know that my soldiers are going to be VERY motivated in the fight to come," He said in a confident tone. "After all, there will be several new Lordships to grant when this battle is over and the lands you all hold will be in need of new leadership. Even Torren Square, bereft of a new House to guide it since Lady Eddara of House Tallhart was killed by the Ironborn during the retaking of Deepwood Motte is up for the taking this very day. Specifically, to whoever brings you to me...alive," He specified, his eyes full of malice. "And if your brother arrives before the fun is over, then they are very much aware that whoever brings it down with an arrow or anything else will be paid the behemoth's weight in silver. So, enjoy the sensation of your head remaining attached to your neck, my Lords, for my men will be after them soon."

And with that, he turned around, preparing to leave on his horse.

"Ramsay," Sansa called out.

He paused for a moment, then glanced back at her. "What now?"

"Where is Rickon?" She demanded to know.

Lord Bolton started smirking at that. "Ah, yes, how could I forget. Your little brother is safe and sound...for now. But that will change really, really quickly if that dragon attacks, do you understand me?"

"As much as I can understand the inner workings of a filthy, bloodstained mind," The Lady of Winterfell in exile responded, disgust slipping off her voice. "I hope you slept well last night, Lord Bolton. You won't get that luxury ever again."

They glared at each other for a moment longer and then they turned around, heading their separate ways. Sansa took a deep breath as she looked at her allies, trying to compose herself. Once she felt calmer, she turned to Josera Snow.

"Did you manage to get what you needed?"

He nodded. "I managed to warg Lord Bolton's horse while he was distracted. As long as I hurry back to the Burning Weirwood and don't skinchange into any other animal from here to there, my sister should be able to use some of my blood for the next stage of the ritual."

"Excellent," The redhead replied. "In that case, go back to Elsera and tell her to start the next part of the plan. We will hold our position for as long as we can."

Then she inhaled sharply and looked at her formidable sworn sword.

"Brienne, it seems we were right: Ramsay brought Rickon with him. That means you know what to do."

"I do," She said with a bow of her head. "Take care of yourself while I am gone, my Lady. I will be back as soon as I can."

And with that, the tall warrioress followed Josera Snow to the nearest tunnel entrance into the underground complex. To the rest of them, she gave a solemn, but resolute expression. And to Magash Char, she gave a slow nod.

"It's time," The redhead told her.

The Giant leader pounded her chest once before climbing down her huge mammoth. Sansa took that moment to warg into Lady to prevent her from panicking as Magash grabbed them carefully and placed them atop the Forrester-made saddle. By the time she was back in her own body, she was in front of their combined forces and everyone was staring up at her.

She took a moment to comb through her memory as she reassured her direwolf that they will be fine up there. Ever since it became clear to her that Jon would not be able to arrive before the battle actually began, she realized it would fall to her to rally the troops, as the only Stark in attendance. It took her some rewrites but in the end, she was more satisfied with the shorter version of her speech. She wanted to raise their morale, after all, not bore them.

And so, she took a deep breath and spoke loudly from her high vantage point.

"This will be a long night," Sansa acknowledged. "And there will be losses. But we have no reason to give up hope. My brother, King Jon, will arrive soon to bring down frostflame from the sky. And even if he wasn't, we have a wakened Old God quite literally on our side. We just need to last long enough for their mystical aid to turn the tide against their superior numbers."

She raised her fist and clenched it, all eyes from the frontlines on her. "And you know why I know we will be able to endure for as long as it takes? Because all of you have the strength of will to truly live stand up for your beliefs. And if the Stranger greets you before the night is done, receive the reaper with your chin held high, because the stakes that have brought us to this point make this a battle worth winning."

The warriors were stirring in the ranks, muttering agreements among themselves, and many of them clanging their shields with their weapons as they braced themselves for combat. With the ruckus intensifying, Sansa tightened her grip around the Stark banner and raised it even higher.

"It is said that the North remembers and when I look at you, I know it to be true," The Lady of Winterfell in exile proclaimed. "But our enemies today need to be reminded of that. So, let us be the Winter that comes for House Bolton!" She yelled, her voice fierce.

As the cheers kept growing, Sansa closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts. And when she opened them, she filled them with conviction.

"Friends of the Free folk...Giants of legend...Valued Bannermen...today we fight for our future. LET'S GO GREET IT!" She screamed.

As if on cue, Lady took that moment to howl to the sky; the powerful sound aimed at the moon.

And just like that, the army's cheers became unanimous, echoing a war cry that Sansa made grin when she realized she had only heard it once before: when her dragon-riding brother reignited their hopes after his own speech.

"VICTORY FOR THE STARKS!"

A/N: Well, hope you have been enjoying the character growth I have been giving Sansa so far, because this chapter was fun to write.

I will update as soon as I can but I promised the readers of my star wars fanfic that they will get my next chapter this week so my attention will be a bit divided. But don't worry, I am as hyped for the climax of this arc as you are. I will be back with a vengeance soon enough.

Until then, feel free to let me know what you thought of the chapter, and have a great week.