#wntrbird

The wizard is awake again, difficult to discern, for he has not moved from his place by the hearth for several hours. Huddled under his great black cloak like a fallen raven, he has DREAMED and warmed his aching body for as long as he could afford.

❝ You will bend but you will not break, girl-child. ❞ A quiet declaration, the wizard’s voice proportionate to his diminutive size. He still does not move. He need not open his eyes to know she is present. She reminds him of his sister’s girls, yes, that must be it. That must be where it comes from, that strange desire to console. Life has never been kind to him but on occasion he feels a certain kindness trickle forth some long forgotten well within him. ❝ The strength of some she-wolves is not found in their savagery but their capacity to ENDURE. You will know days without sustenance and seasons without sun. There will be times you are forced to continue the hunt alone, surrounded by dogs. Do not falter. ❞

@wntrbird liked for a starter from robb.

THERE IS NO HOME - ONLY AN ECHO OF WHAT IT HAD ONCE BEEN. To see Sansa again , that is enough - he decides. Not that he's had a chance to lay eyes on her yet. For Robb , to be alive was to remember his failure , his failure towards his sisters , his brothers - the north itself. SITTING BENEATH THE WEIRWOOD TREE DOES NOT FEEL AS IT ONCE HAD. It's bleeding mouth does little bring him the same comfort it had brought Ned , once.

"have i?" for a moment she lifts a hand to touch her face, stopping before the pads of her fingertips brush skin again. only a moment, though: that's all it takes to remember that a brush of her own fingers was - - like or not - - the cause.

once, it might have bothered her. once each moment spent within her gardens meant gloves and hats and caution, keeping any smear of dirt from strating to her skin, her clothing. it is only recently she finds she does not care.

her laugh is soft and at herself, at the surprising joy of it: the morning spent within the gardens, the basket of blossoms looped over her arm, the mud smeared on her cheek.

"well, i suppose even gardening does have its dangers," she says, "there were some particularly stubborn weeds in one of the beds, it required some digging." with trowel more than hands, but there was only so much she could do to not get any dirt upon her fingers at all. "i shall have to wash my face as well as hands again, when i change my dress. but thank you, sansa, for telling me. there is a chance i might have gone the day without noticing."

mud or not she smiles, holds up the basket between them, showing off the fresh cut flowers.

A GAME OF TELEPHONE / Accepting

[ TXT ➟ @wntrbird ] : ignore you?

[ TXT ➟ Sis ] : no, I have just been busy with something

[ TXT ➟ Sis ] : but it's a surprise

snakes seemed to curl beneath every soil settled stone that she had passed, twined within the branches of every bush — hidden, waiting for even the slightest jostle before they reered back and struck. she knew how to avoid them, though, she had little experience with the lions that prowled the battlements, and dwelt in every hall as proud sentries. there was something solid that had taken root in her gut, cold and hard and painful with the way her insides tightened everytime she considered it. she tried not to.

it made it difficult to keep the easy smile upon lips, to seem to all the bright, shining clement queen who would serve to offset the young king's bouts of cruelty when they were wed. when there would be no need of a regent, though, she had no doubt that queen cersei would linger far beyond what was necessary. the lady loved her own lady mother, and would have welcomed the presence of her husband's, had it not been so that the dowager queen treated her very presence as a slight. there was something that was rather sickly in the sweetness of her smile. a sharpness to the way her eyes fell upon her that made her imagine the lion's claws hanging over a shoulder, poised to reach and rip out her throat.

margaery felt for the younger, in truth. she could not have imagined surviving this place without her grandmother and cousins. without her mother and father and her brothers; though most of which would leave her too, save her cousins and her brother loras, she would still not be alone, when all was said and done. she was a wolf, yes, but she had been told that the one that would served as protector had been slain on the way here. it had been joffrey's own doing, the incident, and his mother's as well. an inhalation of breath is taken in through her nose, and loosened, her spine straightens, her shoulders flat. she forces the stiffness to regain control, so that she might ease it.