Everything was starting to fade, more cracks appearing along his peripheral and the faces becoming more hazy. What followed mattered less. Everything she was meant to see had been in this room. He was grateful for that, at least. For all the things she knew of him, he had no desire for her to see him dispatching the traitors. Killing Olly had been difficult and stayed with him, a blemish on his heart.

If he were superstitious, he would assume that it was that moment that lead the Gods to take Rickon. However, he knew that was Ramsay's doing and no one else's. This was his.

The mention of the prophecy had him turning to look at her more fully, seeing her distress and how sick she felt. "Someone told you about it too?" That wasn't a surprise really. She brought dragons back into the world. Why shouldn't it be here?