Sansa froze in place both awed and terrified. The city around her churned with life as people walked past. Her stomach hurt and her heart pounded, leaving her gasping for air. Just a moment prior her Aunt Lysa had been leaving her clinging and screaming for her life as she tried to shove her through the Moon Door. The adrenaline from the experience came rushing up on her all at once and she felt her feet giving out moments after she began to take in her surroundings.
Her dyed dark hair spilled over her shoulders and her hands broke her fall as she knelt to the ground quivering and shaking as tears burned at her blue eyes. I am a Stark of Winterfell and I must be brave. I must be brave like my brother Robb and my lady mother. Had she died? Everything felt as if it had come rushing up on her in a blur. She could still hear her aunt's shrieks as she grabbed ahold of her red hair in an attempt to keep from falling.
After a moment of adjustment, Sansa pushes herself to her feet, wincing as she looks down at her scraped hands. They hurt as everything else did. Her limbs screamed at her as she scrabbled about to keep herself upright and she began taking in her surroundings anew. People filtered past her, not paying much attention to the fallen girl. Now that she had found her footing, she found herself moving opposite the people round her, looking for answers.
"Excuse me, I don't want to be a bother but I think I am lost." A strange way to feel, when she'd surely fell to her death. She didn't feel dead, but then her family wasn't here either. Sansa wanted to see them more than anything. She wanted her destroyed snow castle to have been the real thing. Most importantly, she wanted to go home.
03.
Sansa still clutched her party invite, meekly making her way to the Tower that stood tall over the rest of the city. She wore the dress she'd come in, feeling sad that she couldn't have had time to make a new one. Her black hair cascaded down her shoulders like raven's feathers and she could hear her heels click agains the pavement as she made her way inside. Once she was greeted and allowed entrance, Sansa made her way to the nearest empty table with an offered drink in hand. She wasn't sure she should drink it, but then the sound and the lights and the laughs made her feel wistful for home. All she had to do was close her eyes and she could see Winterfell's great halls, the long tables pushed aside for dancing as some guest was entertained. But that was Sansa's dream and she was not allowed to be Sansa any longer. I am Alayne now. she thought to herself, sadly.
She sat there, frowning down at her drink as more guests filtered past her table. Sansa had to be the saddest girl in the room, though she wouldn't know it. All she wanted was to strip herself of the dye and the lies. She wanted to be Sansa again, wanted to shout it to all the people who passed her by. Instead she stayed silent and sullen, staring down at her empty plate.
Alayne Stone/Sansa Stark || ASOIAF
Sansa froze in place both awed and terrified. The city around her churned with life as people walked past. Her stomach hurt and her heart pounded, leaving her gasping for air. Just a moment prior her Aunt Lysa had been leaving her clinging and screaming for her life as she tried to shove her through the Moon Door. The adrenaline from the experience came rushing up on her all at once and she felt her feet giving out moments after she began to take in her surroundings.
Her dyed dark hair spilled over her shoulders and her hands broke her fall as she knelt to the ground quivering and shaking as tears burned at her blue eyes. I am a Stark of Winterfell and I must be brave. I must be brave like my brother Robb and my lady mother. Had she died? Everything felt as if it had come rushing up on her in a blur. She could still hear her aunt's shrieks as she grabbed ahold of her red hair in an attempt to keep from falling.
After a moment of adjustment, Sansa pushes herself to her feet, wincing as she looks down at her scraped hands. They hurt as everything else did. Her limbs screamed at her as she scrabbled about to keep herself upright and she began taking in her surroundings anew. People filtered past her, not paying much attention to the fallen girl. Now that she had found her footing, she found herself moving opposite the people round her, looking for answers.
"Excuse me, I don't want to be a bother but I think I am lost." A strange way to feel, when she'd surely fell to her death. She didn't feel dead, but then her family wasn't here either. Sansa wanted to see them more than anything. She wanted her destroyed snow castle to have been the real thing. Most importantly, she wanted to go home.
03.
Sansa still clutched her party invite, meekly making her way to the Tower that stood tall over the rest of the city. She wore the dress she'd come in, feeling sad that she couldn't have had time to make a new one. Her black hair cascaded down her shoulders like raven's feathers and she could hear her heels click agains the pavement as she made her way inside. Once she was greeted and allowed entrance, Sansa made her way to the nearest empty table with an offered drink in hand. She wasn't sure she should drink it, but then the sound and the lights and the laughs made her feel wistful for home. All she had to do was close her eyes and she could see Winterfell's great halls, the long tables pushed aside for dancing as some guest was entertained. But that was Sansa's dream and she was not allowed to be Sansa any longer. I am Alayne now. she thought to herself, sadly.
She sat there, frowning down at her drink as more guests filtered past her table. Sansa had to be the saddest girl in the room, though she wouldn't know it. All she wanted was to strip herself of the dye and the lies. She wanted to be Sansa again, wanted to shout it to all the people who passed her by. Instead she stayed silent and sullen, staring down at her empty plate.