The Rightful Heir

The One Who Won

Ramsay Bolton and his army waited patiently outside Castle Black. He knew that, over the centuries, the ones who wore the black were revered. They were the saviors who swore the oath to protect the realm. They renounced all worldly pleasures and joined in a single mission; to ward off any attack from the north of the Wall.

But, times have changed. The Night's Watch has been reduced to a bunch of rapists, looters and killers who wanted to escape the death row. They are unprepared and defeating them would be easy. But, that would also mean that, there would be no one left to guard the wall. As the warden of the North, he wouldn't want the wildlings roaming freely in his country. And he knew Sansa very well. She wouldn't risk the lives of others, especially her brother and probably will return own her own.

Thoughts of Sansa had started to make Ramsay Bolton impatient. He took a bow and arrow from a soldier and aimed at a crow hovering overhead. He needed to kill someone or something. He really wished Sansa would return. Not because he wanted to avoid a bloodshed. But, in his heart, somewhere in the darkness of it all, he wanted to be the King of Westeros one day. It wouldn't be really nice to be known as a King who destroyed the Nights Watch. At the same time, he didn't want to be a King who couldn't find his wife who abandoned him either.

As Ramsay watched, the crow wriggled in the air and fell to the ground, with the arrow pierced through its heart. As he brought his bow down, Ramsay saw a shadowy lone horse approaching with a rider, from Castle Black.

As always, I am right. He smiled viciously as he imagined all kinds of cruelties he would do to Sansa that night. But that smile soon faded as the figure approaching became clearer. This is not Sansa!

Ramsay had never seen Jon. But, he had heard plenty of him over the years. In a way, it would be right to say that, he found a certain comfort in knowing that there's another bastard in the world, just like him, unacknowledged and unwanted. But their similarities ended there. Even if they had known each other before, they would never be friends. They were poles apart though they shared the name 'Snow'.

Ramsay stared towards the approaching rider whose figure became clearer by the seconds. It didn't take him any time to realize that it was Jon Snow arriving alone towards an army. Only a bastard would have the guts to do that, for they are always alone and against the entire world. But he had pictured him in black, like the other crows. But, Jon, right now as he rode the white horse, in full armor, with his hair tied at the back of his head and his face shining against an evening sun, looked like a god.

Ramsay was taken aback both by Jon's beauty and his courage. He definitely wants to fight. The audacity of this man! Ramsay bit down his anger. Jon came near and stopped a few steps afar.

Jon was also meeting Ramsay for the first time. He had heard of his cruelties and Sansa had warned him of his tactics.

"Hello, bastard." It was Ramsay who spoke first. "Where is my wife? I hear that Castle Black is no place for women. And she is a very beautiful woman."

"Ramsay Bolton" Jon had no time small talk. "I order you to go back to where ever you've come from. That would be the best for all of you."

Ramsay laughed. "Are you ordering me? As what? Lord Commander of the Night's Watch?"

"I am not Lord Commander any more. This is not a fight that the brothers should be dragged into. This is between you and me."

"Jon bastard Snow, I never took you for an idiot. You want to fight me, alone?" This was going easier that Ramsay had expected, or so he thought. "And as always, the one who wins gets the girl, right?"

Jon's face was hard and his eyes were focused. He didn't miss the sarcasm.

"The one who is alive at the end will get Sansa. Yes, Ramsay, fight me and kill me. I challenge you."

Ramsay drew a deep breath. He jumped down from the horse. A soldier armored him up and he was ready for the battle.

And it began.

Swords shrieked and sparked. Shields were held up against angry swords. Jon and Ramsay, two outcasts battled as their lived depended on it. Minutes passed, Jon was able to put a few slices to Ramsay's arms and legs and in return received a few. As the duel progressed, they both realized that this could be their last day. And their reason for the fight has now changed. They both were fighting for themselves now, for their lives.

Inside Castle Black, Sansa regained consciousness. She wanted to see Jon. Like a mad woman, she breached Brienn's hold and ran towards the gate. Brienn followed her.

In the battle field, Jon suddenly began to tire. He could feel the blood oozing out from his wounds on his chest. They were not healed properly and he was supposed to rest. But, still he fought. He had a plan and he needs to buy time for it to work. Ramsay began smelling victory. Jon was visibly tiring; the sword seemed heavy in his hands. He started laughing. Such a fool! So he slowed down. He was not going to give him a quick death. I am not merciful Jon Snow. So he began to poke and prod at Jon, like a cat playing with a mouse.

As Jon's unsteady feat began to cheat him, Sansa approached. Sansa! Jon saw through his blurred vision. The reason, the purpose!

Ramsay saw her too. Ah, the bitch! May be I'll just kill her too. Oh, don't worry sweetheart, only very slowly and only after you've been used up full.

Unfortunately for Ramsay, the hateful thoughts distracted him. Jon pushed himself forward with his unsteady legs. Ramsay saw Jon coming but it took a moment for him to register it. That was all Jon needed and he pushed the cold steel through Ramsay's stomach. Ramsay's eyes bulged and he cried out like a baby in pain. Jon and Ramsay collapsed together, beside each other. Ramsay's army cried out loud and lunged forward. But, in the very moment a large group of wildlings barged in through the Wall, led by Tormund.

Sansa rushed to Jon. She held his head in her lap and wept. Her warm tears fell on Jon's cold, muddied face. He looked up at her and smiled. Then, he closed his eyes.

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