xyoungwolf:

                                                                Well Robb was serious again. There were so many things he wanted to ask Sansa. Whether Joffrey had beaten them? By the gods, if he had done so, he would cut off his hands before he would sever his head from his neck. Robb had not started this war. No, it was the Lannisters, who made his little brother a cripple.

                             He hated King Joffrey and his entire family so much. Robb bit her lower lip. A long time he looked at her and looked for any visible injuries. ”—- Uhm … Tell me …” he looked to the side so he could swallow the anger in him.

                                                                ”—- Did he hit you?”

:: 〖 ❣ 〗――— ::

                            The lack of answer is answer enough and Sansa finds herself dunked into sorrow so deep, it takes even her by surprise. She never imagined the absence of Arya’s presence– not in the totality that seems to surround them now.

                            She might be dead. She might be far beyond the borders of Westeros, in Essos or Ulthos. She might be gone from them forever and Sansa can’t even remember her last words to her. It tugs at her heartstrings and pulls the corners of her mouth downwards.

                            Silently, she sends a prayer to the seven gods.

                            At the question, Sansa feels panic take over the corners of her eyes, try as she might to blink it away. What does her brother know, how far do the winds carry tales of the king’s court? “Joffrey? No.”

                            It’s not a lie but she is too ashamed of the truth.