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Conversations with the not so dead

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Septa Mordane I

 

Only two days since everything had happened, and she was always wearing a perpetual frown. So much had changed since...she shuddered, that magic filled night. One moment she staring the Stranger in the face; Lannister men and their swords, waiting to return to the embrace of the Seven. And then...she was back, awakening with a shock in the Sept in Winterfell. And the beginning of insanity of that night and the violence, Robb savagely beating Theon.

 

Theon was an Ironborn and deserved that and much more for for his people's sinful ways. And then Hodor...

 

She shuddered fearfully, the Seven said that magic was to be scorned and sinful. No true follower of the Seven would so consort with evil powers and sweet little Bran was so accursed now. She shuddered again.

 

The disturbing shocks plagued her as she was walking down the hall in the family wing, she had to speak to Sansa about her actions. They were all changed by the magic, but that was no excuse for the girl to miss her prayers. She could do with a proper talking to now. Now more than before, Sansa needed to trust in the judgment and justice of the Father. The Seven would see them through these magic accursed times.

 

She uttered a silent prayer, asking the Father's protection and the Crone's wisdom in these trying times.

 

She reached Sansa's door and knocked, calling out, “Sansa!”

 

“Come!” called out Sansa from inside.

 

Septa Mordane entered and closed the door behind her. She stopped suddenly as she was surprised by the room. It was in complete disarray, the bed was almost completely covered in dresses and Sansa's direwolf pup was sleeping nestled in a nest of scrunched up and unfolded dresses. Her needles and sewing was thrown across her dresser. It was all very much out of character for the organized girl she knew.

 

Her frown deepened, as she reprimanded the girl, “Sansa! What is going on? A Lady must always keep her room orderly and clean! Have you forgotten all I've taught you? A highborn lady must always be tidy!”

 

Sansa stared at her an unreadable expression on her face, before her face surprisingly hardened, “I have forgotten nothing,” the girl answered tersely. Her voice had a hard and unforgiving edge to it Septa Mordane had never heard before.

 

The gall of the girl! Has she forgotten everything that I taught her?! She thought incensed by the tone and the words. This defiance was something she expected from Arya, but never from Sansa.

 

Septa Mordane gave her a disappointed frown, “There will be time enough for you to clean this up after the evening prayer. Now more than ever we should be giving our thanks for this second chance. Come along you will join me in the Sept, now. ”

 

Sansa laughed in her face and Septa Mordane recoiled in surprise at the harshness of the laughter.

 

The laughter stopped, Sansa's voice was just as harsh and unforgiving, “It was Bran who did this. The gods played no part in it. The gods do not listen to our prayers. Take solace if you can with them, but I will have no part in it any more. I will not waste my time. I already have too much that must be done,” Sansa retorted with a derisive snort.

 

“That is blasphemy child!” Sept Mordane cried out aghast, chiding Sansa harshly, “The gods have always looked out for us. Insolent child, I don't know where these strange thoughts have come from-”

 

Enough! I am not a child. I have not been one for far too long.” Sansa's words cut through her and held such authority that Septa Mordane found herself going silent, despite herself. Sansa's eyes were hard icy blue chips that brokered no argument. “You over step your place, Septa!”

 

Septa Mordane opened her mouth to retort but Sansa cut her off harshly with a gesture and hard look.

 

“You will listen and then you will leave and see to your other duties, I do not have time to give you honeyed words...so many evil things happened to me after I died,” Sansa's tone was as harsh as Lord Stark's when he was angry, “Cersei and Joffrey were my first tormentors.” An angry growl came from Sansa's bed and Septa Mordane saw Lady sitting up and growling in her little nest. “Among the many things that Joffrey did was to show me your head sitting on a spike next to father's.” There was rage in Sansa's eyes now. Lady's growling was louder now.

 

Septa Mordane's stomach turned queasy as Sansa spoke of the Septa's own head on a spike. Gods be good...to show a child her own father's head! Such a beastly thing to do! She unconsciously rubbed at her own neck.

 

“...all that paled in comparison to what Ramsay Bolton did to me. Lord Baelish sold me to the Boltons and Ramsay married me. And every single night he raped me. He made Theon stand and watch.”

 

Her face cracked as Sansa spoke of what Ramsay did to her and that damned Ironborn's own duplicitous part in it. The horror she felt was limitless and dark.

 

“...Ramsay did such things to Theon...” Sansa paused and shuddered with such revulsion on her face, Lady had stopped growling and seemed to be whimpering now. When she spoke again, her tone held such a tone of bleakness, “I never knew or imagined that that could happen to a person...he's wasn't Theon anymore. Ramsay made him Reek...he was just Reek.”

 

Septa Mordane couldn't find her voice. The sorrow she felt for Sansa's plight rising.

 

“...I escaped, I joined with Jon, and we took back Winterfell from Ramsay...but not before he murdered Rickon. Ramsay was a beast, with equally monstrous hounds, he liked to feed them human flesh. Living human flesh.” Sansa paused letting the full implications of her words hit Septa Mordane.

 

She didn't know which part she felt more horrified about. Poor Rickon! This Ramsay sounded more and more like something out of Old Nan's horribly inappropriate stories.

 

Sansa paused, giving a Septa Mordane a very calculating and cold look, “We captured Ramsay. Jon beat him senseless. He was our prisoner, and I waited for him to start to awaken. He was bloody and bleeding as I had been him brought to the kennels. I had him tied to a chair, and I made sure he was awake and talking, before I released his starving hounds.”

 

Septa Mordane's mind fled her as she realised what sweet Sansa innocent had done. Sansa was still speaking and she couldn't immediately follow all the words in her shock and sudden despair.

 

“...You still think me a child...I have no time for your nonsense, I have survived more than you could imagine, seen and had done to me more than is right. I may look like a child again, but I am a woman grown. And now...I have more important things to deal with than an errant Septa,” her tone held such a tone of contempt and authority that shocked Septa Mordane.

 

Septa Mordane was more startled when Sansa suddenly stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Sansa's hard and unrecognizable face softened and she gave her a tired smile. Sansa reached out and cupped Septa Mordane's face tenderly, “In our last life, you tried to protect me, and paid for it with your life. That is not something that I can forget and for as long as you remember your place, you will be welcome in Winterfell...but I am not the little girl you knew. I am a Stark of Winterfell...and Winter is Coming. I am a wolf...and my teeth are very sharp. Forget it and underestimate me at your own risk,” Sansa finished with a finality of tone that left no space for argument.

 

Septa Mordane knew a dismissal when she heard it...but she couldn't find her voice as she stared at this creature wearing innocent little Sansa's flesh. She nodded in fear. She fled from Sansa's room with what little composure she had left.

 

I have to speak with Lady Stark! She must deal with this...this perversion ! Lady Stark has always been sensible about these... issues . Lady Stark is a good and proper follower of the Seven, she'd know what needs to be done.