Red Viper

Battle of Bastards

"You don't have to be here." Jon said as his grip tightened over the reins of his horse.

They were outside the gates of Winterfell, their home. Waiting for the Ramsay Bolton to come forward and negotiate so there wouldn't be a battle, endless slaughter of innocent. Jon didn't want that, he didn't want innocents to die nor have their blood on his hands. He didn't he want Sansa to be here, he knew the monster Bolton was.

Sansa without looking at him with blank face said one thing she knew for sure," Yes, I do."

Before Jon could say anything, they heard and saw the horsemen come their way with Bolton sigil of flaying man upside down on it, in red and blue. That's him, Jon thought as the horsemen stood before them, one in front of them on the black horse. He had mop of curly black hair, his face structure with high cheekbones and his lips pale from the cold of the north but it was his eyes that caught his attention. They were blue, like sapphires but it wasn't the pleasantness they brought rather coldness and hunger he noticed, a hysteria of madness.

"My beloved wife." The man in front spoke, Ramsay Bolton spoke first to Sansa," I've missed you terribly." He then turned to Jon," Thank you for returning Lady Bolton safely. Now, dismount and kneel before me, surrender your army and proclaim me the true Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I will pardon you for deserting the Night's Watch. I will pardon these treasonous lords for betraying my house." He said with dripping arrogance as nobody spoke, only the noise of their reins could be heard as horses shifted among themselves while the little girl, the pirate, the wilding, the lady stood unmoving just as Jon, the enteral loss.

When they didn't say anything, Ramsay continued his chatter," Come, bastard, you don't have the men, you don't have the horses, and you don't have Winterfell. Why lead those poor souls into slaughter?" shaking his head." There's no need for a battle. Get off your horse and kneel. I'm a man of mercy." He said as an arrogant smirk crawled onto his lips when his eyes met with Sansa's.

"You're right." Jon said as he interrupted Ramsay gaze over Sansa." There's no need for a battle. Thousands of men don't need to die. Only one of us. Let's end this the old way. You against me." He challenged, he didn't want a mindless slaughter.

He chucked, Ramsay chuckled as he faced Jon once more," I keep hearing stories about you, bastard. The way people in the North talk about you, you're the greatest swordsman who ever walked. Maybe you are that good. Maybe not. I don't know if I'd beat you. But I know that my army will beat yours. I have 6,000 men. You have, what, half that? Not even?"

"Aye, you have the numbers." Jon said in matter of fact before he connected his eyes with those of madness as he looked back at him," Will your men want to fight for you when they hear you wouldn't fight for them?"

There was a pause and in that silence the answer was answered, because silence is never the wrong answer. "He's good." Ramsay said as his pointed his finger at Jon." Very good. Tell me, will you let your poor swordsmen die because you're too proud to surrender?"

"How do we know that you will win? "For the first-time Sansa spoke, her voice as cold as the winds blowing," Lone Wolf, her. Winterfell belongs to her by the royal decree and her birth right." The look of recognition and fear flashed through his blue eyes quickly but Sansa had seen it," And you have angered her and you will face her wrath."

"Now, if you say" Ramsay started to speak but was cut off by Sansa," - You're going to die tomorrow, Lord Bolton. Sleep well." Her final words before she sped away from the group of horsemen on her white horse.