Snow

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Sansa sat out on the balcony in the west wing of the castle. Her hair was dark and billowed around her shoulders in the cold wind. The light dusting of snow leapt off the ground to swirl around her. However, her countenance did not reflect the playfulness of the white powder. It was firm and pale, her eyes were surrounded by dark circles. If you listened carefully she seemed to sigh in unison with the wind, equally as heavy hearted.


She was listing through her various memories. It was something she had tried hard not to do. Petyr expressly taught against emotion. It was fine to feel it, but never to show it. But when Sansa thought of the myriad things that had happened to her in the capital her face turned sour. Her features strayed from the safety of the blank face and twisted, allowing tiny tears to leak from her eyes. Sansa thought it impossible for her to cry anymore. After all of the tears that had leaked from her eyes over the past year and a half it seemed they were empty. And stilled they produced salty little morsels to stream down her cheeks and freeze before they reached her chin.


While her mind wandered she thought of the night she had been whisked away by her new Lord Protector. How Ser Dontos had brought her to the ship, rowing her away from King's Landing as they shouts filled the night air. She was pulled up onto a ship from the dingy they had rowed across the water in. Her feet swayed beneath her and the steady hands of Lord Baelish rest lightly on hers as he helped her past the railing and onto the deck.


She watched him as shock as she stumbled for words. With nothing to say she walked over to lean and help Dontos. He had looked to Baelish for a response who had merely thanked him and flicked his hand at a man to the side. The air hissed and Dontos fell back in the dingy dead, and arrow shot through his chest. Sansa had opened her mouth to scream, but Petyr's light hand had already clamped down across her open lips.


"Quite sweetling," He spoke softly in her ear, his breathe tickling down her neck. "It'll be for not if they hear you scream out here. Do you want to go home then?"


Sansa nodded, grasping at his forearm for support. He grinned from ear to ear and plucked his hand away softly, moving it down to rest on her shoulder he began steering her towards the lower decks of the ship.


"Rest now," He commended as they came to a cabin beneath the steps. "It's a long journey to the Vale."


Sansa blinked to find herself still in the middle of the snow. She was cold, the wind bit through her thick dressings. Layers of wool and fur seemed to do nothing when you were this high up. Sansa thought of going inside, but it was much colder in the castle. It was drafty yes, but it reminded her of the place she had just left. Machinations seemed to bounce off of the walls like footsteps and made her spine tingle. At least in King's Landing the air hadnt been so thin. These things were noticeable there, but only if you watched for them.


Her last months there were filled with only that. Sansa recalled how she had looked upon the city in the distance with wonder. That had been before the smell had reached her, of course. Yet there it had stood; the Red Keep towering above on the hill side, a symbol of power then. The Red Keep now was a reminder of the time she had been stripped on it's floors. A landmark of her pain and suffering ranging from her father's death to that knight being shot in his dingy for saving her.


No, she couldnt think like that now. No use in crying over the past as he tutor might say. And besides, she wasnt the girl who had been nearly raped by a mad man, nor embarrassed by the incestous Queen Cersei. Instead she was Alayne Stone. An innocent bastard whose father was going to give her everything.

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