This chapter includes a spoiler from the new episodes of season 6, but not quite a real spoiler. I changed it quite a bit to fit it to the story.

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20 minutes had passed and Roose grew impatiant. "Where is he?" He mumbled to himself. "That's it" he spoke up a little bit. "I've had enough of Ramsay's little games. He can pull them on anyone but not me. No." His tone went down at the end of his sentence, as if he was thinking, as if he was contemplating something. I still glared at him, eying every move he made.

"He's not going to come." I mumbled, although it was not the sort of scared little girl mumble. No more of a 'I am so completely done with everything that has been going on and especially this and I actually don't even care anymore' mumble.

"Fine." He stated. "Than this is it." He spoke as he walked towards my mom with a rapid pace.

"No.." Was all I could say before it was too late. Roose had plunged his knife deep inside her chest. She didn't scream, she didn't cry, it even looked like she didn't even wince. She just stared at me. I expected it to be a death glare 'the because of you I am here, because of you I have a knife plunged deep inside my chest glare'. Though she did not glare. She smiled. A sincere smile. I could feel her love radiate right through me, and it hit me hard. Sure, I didn't know my mom the least. But this, this. It was like she only cared about seeing me, seing that I was okay and alive. Well atleast for now, because I would probably be next. Yet it wasn't like I even cared. I could be with my family again, reunited with all of them. Jon, Robb, my father and now, my mother. I watched her vibrant eyes close, close forever as her lifeless body collapsed to the floor. I took a deep breath and looked Roose in the eyes.

"Do it." I growled. "KILL ME."

But death didn't came. None of my blood was spilled. Roose was distracted by the door of the hall we were in opening violently.

Ofcourse he had entered right now, stepping into the little light the candles produced. A split of a second too late. His face darker than ever, no grin this time. No evil smile. Nothing. His face seemed emotionless. Ramsay walked towards his father. He did something complety unexpected, something even I would never have thought of. He wrapped his arms around his father and held him tight. Ramsay was hugging his father. Ramsay was hugging his father?

"I think I have forgotten to congratulate you with the birth of your son, father." He spoke monotonously.

They stayed in this, seemingly awkward position, for a little while. Until Ramsay drew back and looked his father into the eyes. For the last time. Ramsay took his knife and ended his father's life. The same way his father had just ended my mother's. The sound of metal falling on the ground echoed through the hall. Roose had dropped his bloodied knife, my mother's blood. He could have killed him. Why didn't he?
Ramsay released his grip and Roose fell to the ground.

"I realised that over time I have changed, I grew weaker and weaker." Ramsay spoke and paused for a second. "But no more. The old me is back." He abruptly turned around and grinned.

"Come." He stated.

It wasn't like I had a choice. His statement was come now or I'll be flaying you alive. What had changed him so suddenly? Yes he had turned a little bit softer overtime, as far as you could call it 'softer'. Ramsay would always stay... Ramsay. Though now, he seemed worse than the Ramsay I had met the first time. I was scared of him. He seemed very capable and willing of hurting me, nevertheless this could be one of his deceptions. So I listened. I walked over to him and looked to my mom one last time. She should have gotton a proper burial, she deserved it. Other than Roose, he should be left to rot on the floor.

"Don't look back." Ramsay mumbled.

Did he mean my mom? Did he know about her? Or did he mean something completely else. Did he mean us?
I waived the thoughts away and we left the main hall of the Dreadfort. Ramsay being Ramsay this wasn't it. Up ahead in the middle of the square laid two bodies. A very big one, and a very tiny one. We passed them. It were Wanda and the baby. Dead. Completely shredded by his hounds. It was a horrible sight, two innocent people laying in a puddle of their own blood, seperated about a meter from each other.

"Girls" He whistled "we're going to Winterfell." He called his hounds. "I am the new Warden of the North now. Everybody has to do as I say. The person who doesn't, shall be punished, with death." He states.

"You're no king." I spat. He kept silent, clearly angry. "How could you do this? They were innocent!" Just like my mother... my father... Maybe I didn't actually care that Ramsay killed them. Facing reality, it still wasn't the right thing to do. It wasn't just. Ramsay had never cared about justice, never cared about something being 'right'. Why? Why did all of this happen in the blink of an eye?

"He was a threat." Silence. "So I took care of it." He smiled, creepily.

Normally I would sorta like his creepy smile. "He? A threat? He was a baby. And his mom?"

"He was the rightful heir. He could have taken everything, ruined everything." He spat, stepping dangerously close.

"A baby. Ramsay. A baby." His beautiful blue eyes glaring me to death. "You would be the worst father I can ever imagine."

He was pissed. Yet he didn't touch me. Instead he turned around, stepped on his horse and galloped off. His hounds following him.

This was it.

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