The Wolf and the Bastard - A Ramsay Bolton Fanfiction

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I brushed over the neck of my mare while we waited for Petyr Baelish to come back. As soon as the towers of Winterfell had come in sight he had insisted on taking a short break. He had emerged into the forest nearby a while ago. I didn’t mind though. It finally gave me the opportunity to talk to Sansa alone.
“Do you really want to do this?”, I whispered because I couldn’t be sure if Baelish wasn’t eavesdropping.
“What do you mean?”, Sansa replied obviously not knowing what I was getting at.
I rolled my eyes in slight annoyance. She never had been one of the smartest but sometimes she still surprised me.
“Do you really want to marry a man you never met before?”
“Of course I do. Petyr is right. Our only way to win back the North is an arranged marriage.”
“There has to be another way”, I argued.
“Maybe there is. But we are running out of time.”
“But marrying Ramsay Bolton?”, I replied doubtfully.
“It won’t be that bad”, Sansa reassured me. “Most of the marriages are arranged.”
“I know that. But most of the men aren’t flayers.”
“It’s just a banner. Like Lannisters aren’t really lions, Targaryens aren’t dragons and we aren’t actually wolves either.”
“We may not be wolves but we surely have their personality, like every other house represents their banner in some way.”
Sansa didn’t reply anything to that. Instead she stared at me with crossed arms with her eyes sparkling in fury and her lips pressing together tightly. She always did this when she was out of words.
I was getting angry as well, mostly about how naive she acted once again. I buried my fingers in the black mane of my horse which always calmed me somehow. The mare pressed her head against my hand and I started to scratch her where she wanted me to.
“I heard rumours...”, I tried once again, my voice barely a whisper.
“What do you mean?”
She sounded slightly alarmed. She definitely should be.
“About the Bolton bastard ... Ramsay ... He chases young girls through the woods with his hounds. He tortures people ... innocent people only for his enjoyment ...”
“Stop”, she requested quietly.
“He flays people alive-“
“Stop”, she said again, louder this time.
“By the seven gods, their banner is a hanged and flayed man! Even you can’t be that ignorant!”
“Stop right now, Yara!”, she shouted.
I didn’t mind anymore if anyone would hear us. Everyone could know what I thought about the Bolton family. I didn’t need to behave and play the decent and obedient Lady Stark. Eventually I wouldn’t be the one who would marry a monster.
I knew. I knew the rumours were true. Because I hadn’t talked to frightened servants or loyal soldiers. I had talked to people who lived in small towns around Winterfell. Of course it was normal that people tend to exaggerate when they tell a story they had heard from other people. But one thing always stayed the same when I had asked them about Ramsay Bolton.
He was a cruel man, sadistic and merciless. And I knew for sure Sansa wouldn’t be strong enough to become his wife.
I recognized a movement from the corner of my eyes. When I turned my head I spotted Petyr Baelish leaving the forest and heading over to us. I couldn’t tell if he had heard our argument. He had this slightly smug smile on his face I always had wanted to wipe away with my fist. To be honest I never trusted him.
“You will remember my words”, I told Sansa before he came into earshot.
I didn’t wait for either of them while I swung into the saddle and made my way to the gates of Winterfell. Back home.