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48 | A SONG OF PAIN
WINTERFELL was aware of very few things, but there were some she was sure of. She knew she was unconscious, but time seemed less than a concept in her unconscious state. She was aware of the arguing around her — the fairy Godmother, the magical Headmistress was present in nearly every argument.
Arguing with her friends about the level of exhaustion Winterfell suffered.
She remembered Harry's voice, Ben's voice, Mal's voice, Jonah's voice — all her friend's voices really.
But Harry's voice stuck with her.
"It's time to wake up now, princess..." he whispered and the feel of his lips leaving a chaste kiss on her forehead was but a ghost.
Winter could not be sure how long she was out, but suddenly she was gasping and sitting upright. Everything was blurry at first, and her throat was dry.
She shook her head and blinked rapidly, willing her sense to come back. A drop of cold hit her on the shoulder, then her arm, then the top of her head. The blurriness left her vision and Winterfell finally realized what these cold drops were.
Well shit ... it was snowing ... inside the hospital wing room.
Winterfell's gaze was starry and full of curiosity as she took in the snowy weather. The snow INSIDE the room. The room was not too big, around the same size as her dorm, and it was rather bland. A simple sitting chair in the corner and a few other items of furniture and medical equipment were sporadically placed about the room.
"Oh good!"
Winter jumped at the sudden tone, her head snapping to the door that slammed open.
"You're awake—OH!"
The nurse that walked in, a friendly-faced middle-aged woman dressed in bright colors froze as she recognized the snowy weather. She slowly closed the door behind her, looking up at the snow falling out of nowhere.
Her gaze slowly moved to the walls where she noticed beautifully intricate artwork made of frost. Winter was still too out of it to even hope to suck it back in: she had no choice but to simply let it be.
"M'sorry," she said quietly, her voice incredibly hoarse and near gone.
The nurse flicked her gaze back to Winter.
"Why?" She questioned, not in a sharp tone but simply curious.
Winter was quiet, shrugging mutely in response.
The nurse stared at her for a few long moments, Winter doing everything in her power to avoid the woman's gaze. She was already embarrassed enough, and add that onto the terror and anxiety beginning to whirl around her mind.
She remembered it all: when she was stuck in that ... thatawful place. When she felt cold for the first time in ever, where no one could hear her screams... the loneliness. And she remembers watching that demon defile her body: she shook as she remembered the flames. Beleth killed someone... with her hands.
