Different Paths to Destiny [Game of Thrones]

28: Warriors

" in youth, you'd lay awake at night and dream
of all the things that you would change, but it was just a dream "

When the sun rose I was riding through the countryside, next to Aylward. At the same time I sat on another horse, next to Jon. I had told Aylward under no circumstances was he to stop riding. I needed our reinforcements at Winterfell as quickly as possible. We had made it past Castle Cerwyn, less than half a day's ride to Winterfell. But I still wasn't sure if that would be fast enough.

I looked over at Jon. "Are you ready for this?" He asked me. I nodded. He turned his horse and led him through our men to the front. The dress Sansa had made me looked similar to the one I'd worn in Riverrun. But she'd braided my hair differently. It hung down my back, instead of encircling my head. I gripped my sword tightly. In Riverrun I had felt like a queen, today I felt like a warrior.

Across the field, I could see the Bolton army. It was twice the size of ours, but only a fraction the size of the Lannister armies I'd seen before. "I made them promise not to bring me back," Jon said quietly. "If I die, I don't want to come back."

I stared at him for a long moment. There was an unsaid question in his words. He wanted me to promise as well. "Then don't die," I said finally. He pressed his lips together. He knew full well that was a promise I would never make.

I could just make out Ramsay walking toward us. He had someone with him. I squinted trying to make out the figure. "Is that Rickon?" I whispered. The last time I'd seen Rickon he was just a child. Now he stood almost as tall as Ramsay. Jon dismounted, and took a few steps forward for a better view.

Ramsay raised a knife, the sun reflected off it. I tensed. "Can you shoot?" I asked one of Jon's advisors, the older man, whose name I'd learned was Davos.

He shook his head. "Too far."

Ramsay brought down the knife, cutting the ropes that bound Rickon. I felt a sinking in the pit of my stomach. Sansa had told me about Ramsay's hounds that had a taste for human flesh. I expected them to be released, but instead Ramsay picked up a bow. Jon ran back for his horse. "Jon, don't!" I shouted, as he leapt into the saddle.

"I can't just sit here, that's my brother!" He gave the horse a kick and took off toward Rickon. I considered my options. I should have gone to Ramsay in the night, slit his throat before the battle could even begin. But using magic, and murdering in the dead of night, were not our way. My horse started forward and I pulled on the reins to keep him in place. I stopped next to the redheaded wildling, Tormund. He looked up at me from the ground. I tried not to look at terrified as I felt.

Ramsay shot arrows, one at a time. The first three missed Rickon by inches. It may have been just luck, but I was inclined to believe Ramsay was toying with us. As Jon neared Rickon, I began to get an inkling of hope. If he could just toss Rickon on the back of his horse and get him out of here...

Then the fourth arrow was fired. I could tell, before it even started its descent, that it was true. "Rickon!" I shouted. He looked up. The arrow hit him in the back. I gasped. For a moment the only thing I could see was Rickon's body, everything else was black.

"Prepare to charge!" Davos shouted, jarring me back into the moment. Ramsay's archers were firing. To dodge the arrows, Jon was forced to ride straight toward the Bolton army. We had planned for them to charge us, but now we had no choice. I gave my horse a kick and rode with the front of the pack.

As I adjusted my grip on my sword, I wished that I had my knives. I looked over my shoulder, praying that maybe Aylward was close. I looked back to Jon. I watched as his horse went down, hit by arrows. My stomach churned as I strained to see him pull himself to his feet.