you ever think about how if Robb had survived the Red Wedding, he would have been haunted by it? Waking up in the middle of the night hearing Talisa’s screams, his mother begging for his life and not her own? Scrubbing his hands raw because he can’t stop seeing them coated in red, the phantom feeling of hot slick blood seeping between his fingers as he holds his wife? Seeing her blank eyes staring up at him every time he closes his eyes, his mother’s throat cut deep enough for a flash of white bone, his men cut down like cattle? do you ever think about how breathing is probably never truly easy for him again, the arrow scars a constant aching reminder of all his mistakes? do you ever think about how seeing Sansa again would at once feel like a dagger in his heart and overwhelming relief, that her red hair and Tully blue eyes remind him so much of their mother that sometimes he cannot bear to even look at her? do you ever think about how hard it must be for him to trust guest rights, that bread and salt must taste like ash on his tongue? how long before he trusts his allies again? does he ever? how long until his heart stops feeling like glass shards in his veins?