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Baying of the Hounds

Summary:

Sansa's thoughts after the unconventional end to her 'marriage' to Ramsay Bolton.

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Sansa wondered how much of her was left of her. Perhaps Ramsay was right that he'd always be a part of her. After all, she had taken pleasure from watching him devoured by his own beloved dogs, and his helpless cries if agony until silence became him. If her Lord father had been still alive, she thought he'd have wanted him to have been executed in the old ways. However, knowing Ramsay as she did he'd have gotten off on a public execution.

Stark insignia was stitched lovingly by her own fingers into the beautiful dress framing her body, but in her heart she felt a different kind of cold that even the familiar Northern climate felt lukewarm to. 'I am a Stark', she reminded herself as she walked from the kennel in the night. Winterfell was her home after all, and yet she'll never feel the same security that she had before she left for King's Landing. If only she hadn't been so naive, and so wrong but it was senseless to beat herself up over it. The girl that came to King's Landing had died in King's Landing as far as Sansa was concerned.

Her home will long be haunted by the ghosts of the abuse both physical and psychological that Ramsay Snow had inflicted upon her and other poor souls. Even though those memories may pass with time, will always leave a mark on her. Even after all her bruises and cuts have healed, he took her precious maidenhead and even though she hated it, he rubbed off on her. Cersei had, Petyr had, Margaery had, everyone she's been under the influence of have shaped her to be this woman she is today.

Was there any part left that was truly Sansa Stark? She found a puddle and looked at her reflection. In it she saw a face very similar to her lady Mother's but the icy determination and pride in her eyes were all her fathers. The matter in which she smirked at his cries, as his legacy went to the dogs literally and figuratively. She never enjoyed hurting others, in fact she hated seeing people get hurt but Ramsay she didn't see as another human being anymore, he was a monster.

She dropped her allusions about the goodness of others after Joffrey and his goons beat those old dreams out of her. There was no one she could fully trust, not even herself. Yet she was the only person there was for her to depend on. Not even Jon, her half-brother she couldn't bring herself to make that leap of faith to trust in him either. 'Don't look for my heart anymore, it has been devoured by monsters...', a sole tear fell down her porcelain cheek.

"Sansa.", the voice of Jon snow cut into the silence. Sansa didn't look up at him for a moment before she turned to him and let him envelope her in his arms. She wasn't ready to trust yet, but she could use a hug and nuzzled into his shoulder. "I was worried about you. I heard the dogs, and I heard the screams and... I am glad that you are okay.", he rasped.

"Jon, am I a monster like him?", Sansa's voice cracked into a sob. No, she wasn't crying over Ramsay's fate but she sobbed over the fact that she let that happen. Even after all he had put her through, she never thought she'd kill someone. Her hands were however clean, just like Petyr told her. 'Keep your hands clean, Sansa' his voice reverberated in her skull.

"Sansa, no you are not a monster. Why would you say something like that?", Jon asked with a concerned furl of his brows. He kissed her forehead and stroked her back gently. Her answer was something of, "Even though he killed Rickon, and he hurt me and so many others... I enjoyed listening to Ramsay's screams as he died. I am no better than him..."

"Sansa, no.. you are far better than him.", Jon answered with anger hardening his whisper. "Don't even compare yourself...", his voice hitched into a sob. "I just wish I came sooner to protect you."

"Jon, as I told you.. you couldn't have known.", Sansa sobbed again, heaving in a deep sigh as she let Jon hold her closer. She did feel safe with him. His anger towards Ramsay was righteous and perhaps in some time she'd feel her own was as well. It was still all so fresh, and the scent of blood and death lingered in the air.

"Oh Gods, Sansa I promise... I will protect you as long as you live.", Jon murmured as he pressed a kiss onto her forehead. Sansa fell into his embrace and let him lead her back into the castle. It may be a long time before it she feels safe again there, but at least she can call it home again. That night she fell asleep in Jon's arms just like she would have as a child. In the most innocent manner she could have as a woman grown next to a boy-turned-man. None of the guards say a word of it, as far as they know the hero Jon's sweet sister had a night mare and wanted to be held.