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Musings & MumblingsWriting - GeneralWriting - MSL
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game of thronessolosansa starkarya stark
The atmosphere in the great hall was thick. Hostility lingered so intensely in the air, it was almost smellable. The King in the North had found his way home at last, bringing with him allies old and new, familiar faces that Sansa hadn't seen in a very long time. Tyrion Lannister. Sandor Clegane. Lord Varys. Each of them subconsciously helped form a string of unpleasant memories that punched a hole through her chest the exact moment she caught sight of them entering the gates of Winterfell.
However, it wasn't their presence that had captured Sansa's interest as well as the attention of Bran, Arya and the entire North. It was Daenerys Targaryen's. Having heard numerous stories about the breathtaking Queen with the three dragons and the big heart who cared deeply about the fate of her people, the Lady of Winterfell looked forward to meeting her. Even if she had her fears regarding a Targaryen's true intentions in the North.
She was beautiful. Even a complete fool would think twice before denying such a ground-shattering truth. Sansa had never before encountered a Targaryen woman and couldn't help but admire her out-of-this-world gorgeousness, the delicate features, the long, silver hair and aura of a true leader that radiated off of her.
When everyone gathered and the discussion about the great war began, Sansa was the one who – surprisingly enough – spoke very little, if not at all. She thought it wiser to listen to what Jon and Daenerys had to say first.
And they had a lot to say.
Jon, a passionate speaker when the cause demanded it, wasted no time and proceeded to explain to the Lords and Ladies that occupied every corner of the great hall the importance of having the help of house Targaryen in such a moment of crisis. Some of them agreed. Others looked at him distrustfully. Sansa simply listened. Then, as the Dragon Queen's turn came, the redhead had been surprised to see that she surveyed the war against the dead and the future of the North with an air of genuine concern – which was a positive sign.
But she was a Southern monarch nonetheless. And Northerners had a violent past with Southern monarchs they didn't wish to relive.
The first interaction was doomed to be short-lived. Fortunately, it ended without much tension and conflict and soon everyone departed to their appointed chambers for a much needed rest after their long journey, except for Jon who stayed with Bran a little longer after the great hall cleared.
Sansa took advantage of the quietness that now surrounded the castle to contemplate the events that took place. The cold was unforgiving on the ramparts of Winterfell, yet she stood unfazed, as if she were facing only a summer breeze. Above her head, two giant dragons circled her home, their occasional roar piercing her ears and sending shivers through her spine, touching her where the biting cold couldn't. It would take some time to get used to their presence, she was sure of it.
Arya found her on the exact same spot, about half an hour later. Sansa's eyes never left the storm-grey sky, even when she heard her sister approach. They stood in silence for several moments before the younger of the Stark girls decided to end it.
"What do you think of her?", she asked in her known deep tone that Sansa always found oddly melodic.
"She seems trustworthy."
She couldn't tell whether Arya was pleased with her choice of words or not, for she continued as if she never heard her. "There was a tremor in her voice when she spoke of the dead. And Jon fears they might reach our doorstep at any moment."
Sansa shuddered at the thought.
Gods help us if that happens.
"Perhaps they saw things out there that we have not", she cooed, only to receive the brunette's intense gaze in response. Her big, expressive eyes burned and Sansa could see right through them: Arya was worried about the upcoming war too.
"We will be alright, Arya", she caught herself whispering, as if to soothe her sister's fears. "The wall will keep the Night King and his army away until our forces are fully prepared to face him."
Little did she know.
Little did they all know.
However, it wasn't their presence that had captured Sansa's interest as well as the attention of Bran, Arya and the entire North. It was Daenerys Targaryen's. Having heard numerous stories about the breathtaking Queen with the three dragons and the big heart who cared deeply about the fate of her people, the Lady of Winterfell looked forward to meeting her. Even if she had her fears regarding a Targaryen's true intentions in the North.
She was beautiful. Even a complete fool would think twice before denying such a ground-shattering truth. Sansa had never before encountered a Targaryen woman and couldn't help but admire her out-of-this-world gorgeousness, the delicate features, the long, silver hair and aura of a true leader that radiated off of her.
When everyone gathered and the discussion about the great war began, Sansa was the one who – surprisingly enough – spoke very little, if not at all. She thought it wiser to listen to what Jon and Daenerys had to say first.
And they had a lot to say.
Jon, a passionate speaker when the cause demanded it, wasted no time and proceeded to explain to the Lords and Ladies that occupied every corner of the great hall the importance of having the help of house Targaryen in such a moment of crisis. Some of them agreed. Others looked at him distrustfully. Sansa simply listened. Then, as the Dragon Queen's turn came, the redhead had been surprised to see that she surveyed the war against the dead and the future of the North with an air of genuine concern – which was a positive sign.
But she was a Southern monarch nonetheless. And Northerners had a violent past with Southern monarchs they didn't wish to relive.
The first interaction was doomed to be short-lived. Fortunately, it ended without much tension and conflict and soon everyone departed to their appointed chambers for a much needed rest after their long journey, except for Jon who stayed with Bran a little longer after the great hall cleared.
Sansa took advantage of the quietness that now surrounded the castle to contemplate the events that took place. The cold was unforgiving on the ramparts of Winterfell, yet she stood unfazed, as if she were facing only a summer breeze. Above her head, two giant dragons circled her home, their occasional roar piercing her ears and sending shivers through her spine, touching her where the biting cold couldn't. It would take some time to get used to their presence, she was sure of it.
Arya found her on the exact same spot, about half an hour later. Sansa's eyes never left the storm-grey sky, even when she heard her sister approach. They stood in silence for several moments before the younger of the Stark girls decided to end it.
"What do you think of her?", she asked in her known deep tone that Sansa always found oddly melodic.
"She seems trustworthy."
She couldn't tell whether Arya was pleased with her choice of words or not, for she continued as if she never heard her. "There was a tremor in her voice when she spoke of the dead. And Jon fears they might reach our doorstep at any moment."
Sansa shuddered at the thought.
Gods help us if that happens.
"Perhaps they saw things out there that we have not", she cooed, only to receive the brunette's intense gaze in response. Her big, expressive eyes burned and Sansa could see right through them: Arya was worried about the upcoming war too.
"We will be alright, Arya", she caught herself whispering, as if to soothe her sister's fears. "The wall will keep the Night King and his army away until our forces are fully prepared to face him."
Little did she know.
Little did they all know.