♕ — - Call it optimism, should will teach a boy that
even the most fragile can become as strong as
Valyrian Steel. And Sansa Stark had proven
stronger. Even when older brothers gasped
for breaths no longer available as souls past on
into oblivion. Had he known so, he merely wished
that he would one day be reunited, same with
she. Yet, the North was cold and unforgiving. Never
to agree with one relating to those whom had killed
their king. Even if said boy had once looked up to
the Stark. Still did. Inspiring to be as strong as he.
For he too was but a boy whose head they had
forced a crown.❝ As difficult as the north
has always been. I’ve
grown rather accustomed
to long rides. Should it ease
your worry. ❞
:: 〖 ❣ 〗――— ::
There were too many bodies, they couldn’t all be buried
for their bones were still missing and in the wind; but her
lady mother’s likeness stood still as a statue in the crypts
and they had made direwolves, for a part of the children
that died in the horrors of a decade ago. Sansa visits them
always, if only to remind herself of how her parents looked like.
King Tommen, first of his name, carries with him now none
of the rounded edges of his childhood yet his face is kind.
His eyes are not cruel like the green of his brother and his
lips do not sneer. Instead, he smiles and the North thaws
at the corners.
“I’m sure you have visited lands far and wide, Your Grace.
I shall hope you have interesting tales for us at the feast.
But would you like to retire until then? I can show you to
your chambers.”