starksbloodâ:
ð ððððððð ððð ðððððð  ,  ððððððð ððððð ððð ð ððððððððð  &  ððððððð ððððððð ð ððð ðð ðððððððððð ððððð  ;  dappled evening sunlight streams through the breaks in dense foliage  &  warms the girl beneath  ,  poised in supplication amidst dragonâs breath blossoms  .  she appears as though a statue of marble  ,  immobile  ,  as if patiently waiting for nature to reclaim what was once earth  ,  what will be again  :  smokeberry vines tangled around her throat  ,  her mouth full and choking on crimson petals  .  it is all red here  . the plants  , the stone  .  she wonders if itâs a testament to all the blood thatâs been shed  . the news of queen daenerysâ death hovers over all of them like an omen â a swift blade in the hands of an executioner . they are the condemned .
itâs not prayer , for the fallen queen or otherwise , that she partakes in  ,  though one would assume such from appearance alone  .  the facelessness of the supposed heart tree has left her awash in fear even stronger than previously thought . there is something stilted and dangerous about the clear irreverence displayed here  ,  in a place where they are claimed to be welcome  .  her stomach twists anxiously  ;  all she can see is the statue of lord eddard stark  ,  still  &  solemn in their crypt  . he had been here once . he had died here . the beat of her heart hitches in fright for her family .
it would be better to call it conversation that she engages in  ,  lilting  ,  stilling only to revive again  .  as her thoughts drift in between reality  &  obscurity  ,  wind rustles through the leaves overhead  ;  in it  ,  she hears her fatherâs tired  ,  gently chiding sigh  ,  and so she hums apologetically in response  ,  quiet and tentative  .  she can feel the old gods here  ,  even with the false heart tree  &  the blood of broken smokeberries staining the front of her silken dress  ,  fingers twisting in the grass &  stems of the lily  -  like flowers surrounding her  .  not a godswood  ,  but a garden  .  not a girl  ,  but a lone phantom  .
until another comes to haunt alongside her  .  she does not need to see him  ,  hear him  â  she needs only look to her heart and know  .  gaze does not flutter  ,  no move is made to turn towards him  .  it is unnecessary  .  they need no indication  . â  hello  ,  victarion  .  â in her voice  ,  a smile trills  ,  a bluebirdâs song on springâs first morning  . it is , with little doubt , the first and only she has worn today . the wind stirs again as if murmuring acknowledgement  ,  and her chin tucks atop bare shoulder to greet him with a fond gaze  .  he is a jagged shadow in the glow of the sunset  ,  hovering between towering elms  .  were she able  ,  she thinks sheâd like to paint him here in shades of vermillon &  sable  ,  a wraith amongst men  .  â  if i try hard enough  ,  the petals of the dragonâs breath  â  â  she offers up an aforementioned flower to receive his judgement  ,  stem weaved between her trembling fingers  . â  â  could be weirwood leaves  ,  donât you think  ?  â  it is the gentlest form of complaint one could hear  â  spoken as such that one might never realize it was a complaint at all  ,  if they did not know her  .
@wildlingsblood .
WHITE HOT ,  BLARING IN THE SKY ,  the sun rained golden rivers over everything and painted the world  yellow  .  there might have been something magnificent about it ,  but vic had seen the morning light hit the fresh snow ,  sending  diamonds  sparking into a dangerous dance .  there was something about diamonds that made gold seem so dull . it seemed strange that the sun was still shining on a day such as this , where a  gloom  hung over the city like a thick fog . the queen was dead , and while vic had never held any love for her , this was the last thing he expected , the last thing he  wanted . it was supposed to be a quick trip south , then back up the kingsroad to a castle in the snow where nothing  ever  had to change . but now ?  everything  was about to change .
the sun , it seemed , would  always  shine in the south where there were no snowstorms to block it out and no long nights where one could forget itâs face . the sun did not care that it was  raining  within the walls of the red keep , tears carving rivulets into the ancient stone . vic did not shed any tears , he said the proper words and hung his head when he fancied , but he did not cry . he did not know the queen , did not care for her , and besides death meant something different in the north . he did  worry , though , not because he suspected  foul play . he held it as a possibility , strange that death would come when so many new faces surrounded her , but death  was  strange .Â
he would take this all in stride , one step at a time , and the first step was always finding rowena , being  certain  she was safe . he was not with her always ,  though he might have  liked  to be ,  for only then could he  always  be certain .  even away from her ,  his mind always strayed to her and here ,  behind the strong walls and the safe swords of the city watch that could hardly be purely on the concern of her  safety .  upon finding her room empty , he set out across the vast castle gardens to find her . a shadow raced between the manicured foliage ,  wide eyes peeking out behind the green .  â crow , â  he greeted ,  immediately searching behind the dog for her owner ,  who it did not seem was following .  â whereâs rowena ? â
and like that ,  she was off ,  to find her person ,  his person , and he followed closely behind .  and as always ,  she led him  right  where he wanted to go .  he waited for her to notice him ,  she always did somehow ,  though he said nothing ,  made no sound ,  but she turned to look at him .  the old gods were not here ,  vic felt no sense of  holiness  and the look in  rowenaâs eyes told him she agreed .  â a poor imitation , â  he admits ,  face contorting in distaste for only a moment ,  until he thinks better of it and meets her gaze with a smile .  â but we wonât be here much longer , i promise . i wonât let them keep us any longer than necessary . â  he is worried about her , of course he is worried about her . but , for her to come here ,  well it could only mean one thing .  â  are you alright ? â
















