Bleeding Snow and Burning Hearts

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Sansa Stark
Boss Ass Bitch

Queen in the North

She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell.

Posts: 775

Bleeding Snow and Burning Hearts Jul 6, 2014 19:18:11 GMT -6

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Post by Sansa Stark on Jul 6, 2014 19:18:11 GMT -6

Funny it seemed, how a peaceful meeting could be torn apart by a woman's words.

"I am not Alayne Stone," she said noting the Bolton and Karstark disobedience to leave the halls. Her back straightened. Each word was delivered with pride. She gracefully took one step after the other, refusing the hand of any that tried to help her. One chair and than the other, she stood atop the table in the center of the room with an air of triumph whirling around her. Curls of dark fire emblazoned her resolve and Tully eyes shone like a peaceful sky.

Brave, like Robb, she made her decree.

"My name is Sansa of House Stark, princess of Winterfell and heir to the North. My brother Robb Stark was King in the North, a king whom you served with undying loyalty until the second he punished the Karstarks for their treachery, and until the moment Tywin Lannister put a gold coin under your nose and told you to follow the scent. Do not mistake me for my brother--I have no army and my direwolf was slain years ago. But I am no less thirsty for justice, no less hungry for my home to be restored, and no less prepared to find ways in which to execute the restoration of my brother's kingdom. If I kill you, it would send a message. But I believe letting you speak would send a much stronger one."

If I kill them all, I'm no better than Joffrey. The poison of justice had set in, but her father was a strong believer that justice without mercy was folly, and Sansa was never one to take a life.

"Tell Roose Bolton and Tywin Lannister and the queen and anyone who will listen that I am here in the Vale, surrounded by the strength of the East, by those who knew my father and loved him, and who loved Jon Arryn and King Robert just as much. I will send no ravens, offer no inquiries. If any of these men who stood by and did nothing while my family was butchered and burned wish to speak to me, they will do so in person, and look directly in my eyes and tell me why they allowed such suffering."

Oh, how she would have cried, had she discovered the will to anymore.

"Go. And do not return."

FROM PORCELAIN TO IVORY TO STEEL

oathkeeper
Resident Jackass

"Take the Black"

Posts: 63

Bleeding Snow and Burning Hearts Jul 7, 2014 23:22:46 GMT -6

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Post by oathkeeper on Jul 7, 2014 23:22:46 GMT -6

Steel and leather occasionally rattled as the tranquility of the meeting hall dimmed to an eerie nothingness. Breathing of hardy Northerners filled the hall like that of a dramatic symphony, sweat rolling down their scarred foreheads as even the Bastard of Winterfell could feel an unpleasant tingle run down his spine. The Night's Watch had dealt with traitors before, but to be thrown in this politically volatile state of affairs was both daunting and frightening alien. As Jon had said before, this was their war, but the Lord Commander himself couldn't help but idly watch once again.

"So you finally came out of hiding, The Wild Lily of The North, eh? Or would that be your dead sister?" Cregan's husky voice chuckled darkly, staring up at the redheaded Tully and shaking his head. Ash eyes glared at him from the shadows, Jon resisting the urge to shove his sword through Cregan's neck at the mere mentioning of dark-haired, lost, presumably dead Arya Stark. Never in his life did he wish harm to the Starks, even with his jealousy of Robb and his unfair status as a bastard Jon adored and loved his family- even Lady Catelyn, whom spited him the moment he was conceived.

"Your Young Wolf killed my father; he killed kin. You know our gods, girl, The Old Gods sentenced him to death for breaking his vows and marrying that foreign bitch. If you think for a moment I sided with the Boltons because of Lannister gold than you were as foolish as him. Brave he was, but smart? The damn Young Wolf couldn't see honor from dishonor." Cregan explained and reasoned, truthfully not wrong in some senses. Robb was a great leader, even Jon knew, as his half-brother had always bested him at the lance whilst Jon bested the Tully at the sword. Still, even with Robb's strategic prowess, the notion of being betrayed by his own vassals must of not crossed his mind at the slightest.

Watching Cregan raise his left hand, Jon tightened his grip on the direwolf hilt of Longclaw, hearing the soft clanking and cranking of crossbows being cocked around him. Knights of the Vale had their visors down upon their steel helmets, mighty long-swords and bastard-swords elegantly waving menacingly through the air like that of a dance of death. In an instance, he threw his hand down, and all of the Bolton couriers sheathed their weapons yet kept a firm grip upon the handles of their daggers and makeshift weaponry.

"I'll let them know, Lady Sansa. The North isn't going to bend the knee to not even a Stark now, after all, you should know your words..." Cregan murmured with a crooked grin, beckoning his men to follow as they made their way out of the meeting hall. With swords still pointed out at them, Jon tenderly took a few steps after them, glancing at Sansa worryingly before looking at the retreating couriers.

"Winter is Coming." Cregan finished, his voice satisfied and content as if he knew that the only pure-blooded Stark alive was of no threat to The North.

Sansa Stark
Boss Ass Bitch

Queen in the North

She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell.

Posts: 775

Bleeding Snow and Burning Hearts Jul 8, 2014 0:07:15 GMT -6

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Post by Sansa Stark on Jul 8, 2014 0:07:15 GMT -6

"Winter is coming," Sansa agreed, "and I am the daughter of Winterfell. When it comes, so too shall I."

Karstarks and Boltons left simultaneously at the sound of such threatening words from a girl who was known to bend the knee. Nothing they could say would hurt as much as Joffrey's taunts or cut as deep as Lannister swords. She had already been broken and repaired so many times, over and over and over again, that her skin had evolved from porcelain to ivory to steel. And steel won wars.

Petyr Baelish, who had been fuming only moments ago, dropped his mask and began to spontaneously applaud the Lady Stark, as if taking responsibility for her growth. "My, my," he praised with every form of desire in his tone. "What a bright girl you are. Well played. I must confess, I was a bit worried at the beginning, but I see you've developed beautifully in all aspects. Come down from the table, and we'll get you something to eat. You've just declared war. I can only imagine how famished that must make you."

Declared war? Sansa looked to Lord Baelish once, and then to her sweet Jon, and then down to her hands. They trembled so violently that she couldn't hold a glass of water if she wanted to. Her breath was sporadic, Tully eyes frantic for answers as to what she'd just done.

Father, Mother, Smith, Warrior, Maiden, Stranger, Crone, Old Gods and New, please don't let me have made a grave mistake.

FROM PORCELAIN TO IVORY TO STEEL

oathkeeper
Resident Jackass

"Take the Black"

Posts: 63

Bleeding Snow and Burning Hearts Jul 8, 2014 23:12:26 GMT -6

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Post by oathkeeper on Jul 8, 2014 23:12:26 GMT -6

The shutting of the steel doors echoed ominously throughout the meeting hall, Sansa's warnings to the traitorous Northeners blocked out in their arrogance and pride. They would not see her as a threat, a mere girl no older than seventeen and with half of the realm proclaiming she was involved in the murder of King Joffery. Outside of The Eyrie, she had little allies, and at this point The North may even consider the Targaryen princess to be more of a threat than a Stark girl with no army and no well-esteemed commanders. War had ravaged the barren lands, and the mere thought anyone would raise up their swords was laughable at best.

Fiercely staring at the last Bolton leaving the meeting hall with eyes like that of a hungry wolf, the Bastard of Winterfell soon shifted his attention to Sansa. Lord Baelish's sly, cunning, direful, and almost lustful words fell mostly silent in the Lord Commander's ears. As he looked up at Sansa, the young, stoic-haired warrior couldn't help but feel pity in his heart. Before him stood both a woman and a girl, a Stark and a Tully, a frail flower of The South and a wild lily of The North. Her heart cried for blood, but she was still young and had not fully seen all of the horrors of the world.

Acting on his instinct as a brother, Jon sheathed Longclaw as the other proud men of the Night's Watch lowered their weapons. Arising onto the table, the older brother to the last known full-blooded Stark gently took his sister's wrists. Feeling them shake in his own hands, Jon's gaze tighten, holding the beautiful redhead's wrists as he bit the bottom of his lip. Jon wanted to scream at her, wanted to hate her for being so foolish and putting her in such a dangerous situation. Yet, part of him was secretly proud to see Sansa evolve into a woman that may not be strong as Arya physically, but strong in her will to survive and her thirst to reclaim what was forgotten.

"Sansa," he started, lowering his head lightly as his forehead pressed softly against Sansa's. Heavy breathing caressed over her tanned skin, the curly-haired, strong, husky Northerner's ash eyes inches away from Sansa's Tully sapphires. With their bodies inches away, the icy commander of The Wall continued softly, tightening his grip on Sansa's wrists as he briefly closed his eyes.

"You are fine, do you hear me? You are fine, we are all fine. The Eyrie is a fortress, even if the Boltons send a thousand men, we will send them a thousand graves." Jon reassured, taking a few steps back from Sansa but still holding her bare hands in his gloved ones.

The moment was bittersweet, and knew that his obvious affection for his sister would go unnoticed, but Jon acted purely on his instinct as a brother and protector.

Sansa Stark
Boss Ass Bitch

Queen in the North

She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell.

Posts: 775

Bleeding Snow and Burning Hearts Jul 9, 2014 3:35:45 GMT -6

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Post by Sansa Stark on Jul 9, 2014 3:35:45 GMT -6

The Eyrie does not bow to me, she wanted to tell him. I made a declaration based on lies and false promises. I am no better than the Lannisters, I am no better than Joffrey. Hours before, she had comforted her weeping brother by the Heart Tree and told him everything was going to be alright. She even sang to him. Now, she wasn't sure if that Sansa Stark was same one that faced him currently.

She continued to tremble despite the small comfort of his forehead pressed against hers, the gentleness in his voice and the urgency in his tone. Jon had always tried to make her happy, even when they were small. He wanted to protect her just as much as Robb had. But Sansa had always favored her true-born brother to the point where she began calling the other bastard. How could he stand there and pretend he loved her after the way she treated him? I am no better than the Lannisters, I am no better than Joffrey, again and again and again.

And yet, her resolve remained strong. Her pledge to rebuild the North was not one she intended to forget despite her inability to see it through.

Sansa could not weep. She hadn't cried in what felt like years, or had it truly been? So much was taken from her to the point where she feared she had nothing left to offer the world, nothing to give. And there she had stood, making declarations as if she were a queen with the right to make them.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm just a stupid girl..."

FROM PORCELAIN TO IVORY TO STEEL

oathkeeper
Resident Jackass

"Take the Black"

Posts: 63

Bleeding Snow and Burning Hearts Jul 9, 2014 6:44:27 GMT -6

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Post by oathkeeper on Jul 9, 2014 6:44:27 GMT -6

Sansa's discouraging words fell deaf to Lord Snow's ears, the bastard reflecting upon himself in almost every way just by looking at his redheaded sister kissed by The South but embraced by The North. Both of them had suffered, as they had idly watched regrettably as their family was slaughtered like cattle for the sake of duty and their own lives. Kings rose and fell, men of many banners lay stricken and damned, and in the midst of it all the two children of The North were but lost souls seeking some vain form of solace. Even Jon, as much as he promised Sansa protection, had his own doubts of what the future would truly entail.

Still, Jon knew that if anything he had to try for her sake. The Wall may of not held onto the onslaught of Wildlings, but Sansa Stark's claim to The North was far from being entirely far-fetched. Knights of the Vale had ties deep within the Stark bloodlines, and who knows, even Stannis could be influenced to lend some men against the traitorous Boltons. After all, Jon figured, if the man had enough forces to overwhelm the thousands of fleeing Wildlings, than surely he could at least lend a hand to the rightful heirs to Winterfell.

"Come 'ere you..." Jon shook his head with a soft grin, unable to contain his own emotions as he reached over to embrace Sansa within his arms. Taking this tender moment to lead her off of the table, the Lord Commander held what little of his blood left to his tattered, damaged, black, hard-boiled leather breastplate. Gloved fingers ran through her fiery, young, Tully red hair, whispers of Ygritte and whispers of Winterfell crawling back onto the Lord Commander's mind.

"Don't be sorry, I'll be honest with you, I never thought to see you like that," Jon chuckled lightly, his thick, rough, but sweet voice caressing in a whisper into Sansa's ears like that of a winter breeze. "Just know this, Sansa. You may be young, aye, but you are strong just like me or Robb. You don't wield the sword like Arya, but you have the blood of the Stark as do I. It isn't going to be easy, but as long as you are in The Eyrie, the only damn thing that can even harm you is that Targaryen princess...and I doubt she is coming to Westeros for awhile." Jon finished with a soft laughter, pulling himself away to ensure that he wouldn't come off too overly affectionate.

Damn my emotions, she is my tender sister and nothing more, Jon assured mentally, pushing away the faintest of vile thoughts brewing in the darkest corners of his mind.

Sansa Stark
Boss Ass Bitch

Queen in the North

She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell.

Posts: 775

Bleeding Snow and Burning Hearts Jul 9, 2014 13:27:23 GMT -6

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Post by Sansa Stark on Jul 9, 2014 13:27:23 GMT -6

He was her father, he was Robb, and he was something much more dangerous. Sansa melted into his hold and shed no tears, offered no physical attribution to her sorrow, but clung to Jon Snow even after he pulled away. Her head rested on the center of his broad chest, the sound of his voice floating around in her ears like a lullaby. Thank the Gods for you, Jon Snow.

She didn't seem to care who witnessed the affection, bordering on something much more sinful. Sansa would've granted him any wish he desired in that moment. But he was a man of the Night's Watch, sworn to take no sides in the wars of the realms, and soon he would be gone back to his Wall and she would be nothing more than Alayne Stone once again, if she was lucky enough to live through the night. Sansa continued to soak in his touch and his voice and the scent of him and everything she had missing, every little comfort denied her. If only I were born a man, she thought, and I could follow you wherever you might go, even to the Wall. She would take the black for him, undoubtedly.

Lord Baelish knew his words were getting him nowhere. Only Jon Snow could reach the Stark girl now, a trait he envied, but one he could not hope to tear asunder. But instead, perhaps he could build it to something greater, something that would give him the advantage in a situation he had partially caused. He left the room with a lustful look in his eyes, one that could not be deterred by the breeding ground of incest.

FROM PORCELAIN TO IVORY TO STEEL

oathkeeper
Resident Jackass

"Take the Black"

Posts: 63

Bleeding Snow and Burning Hearts Jul 9, 2014 23:28:37 GMT -6

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Post by oathkeeper on Jul 9, 2014 23:28:37 GMT -6

The more Jon looked at his sister, the more he found himself falling into an abyss that knew would doom him.

Warm, fiery hair taunted him of his former lover, teasing him with the vain attempt to restore what was broken. Lightly-tanned skin glisten radiantly in the dim sunlight, Jon swearing that she could see Lady Catelyn reincarnated before his very deep, dark eyes. Not only that, but the way Sansa spoke, the way she conducted herself as a leader and not a fair maiden haunted Jon of Arya, whom in some ways that socially deviant tomboy was the closest thing he figured he would come to a daughter in terms of a relationship.

She was Ygritte, she was Lady Catelyn, she was Arya Stark, but most importantly, she was his little sister that he would forever protect. Jon would bear no children and hold no lands or titles,, but curse his vows to the ends of this wretched land if he was going sit idly and watch Sansa slowly hollow away. As he felt his sister press up against his leather breastplate, the Lord Commander briefly looked around him in slight embarrassment. Knights of the Vale briefly smiled, bowing as they left knowing that the two siblings had only each other and needed this moment of solace. Of course, the men of the Night's Watch respectfully gave the two room as well, valuing Jon not only as a stern and determined leader but a rational and reasonable one at that.

Still having his head lowered, Jon slowly closed his stoic eyes as pressed his lips against Sansa's forehead. Scents unheard of to his body filled his nostrils, smelling exactly what he imagined Highgarden would of judging from what Lady Catelyn spoke of it in Winterfell. Blessing The Old Gods within his mind, he simply offered his body for both warmth and comfort in his sister's weary soul. Like that of a wolf tending to another, Jon hummed a soft tune, his chin resting on the top of Sansa's as his fingers ran through her hair. Deep within his soul, the man would of gladly stayed in this position till' the winds of winter froze his body and soul.

"You must be getting hungry, though, I guess you never had an appetite like Arya. I will stay beside you if you need me, Sansa, or if you so wish I can leave Ghost with you at all times." Jon broke the uneasy but desirable silence the two shared, his husky voice into that damning gentle coo that Jon, despite his sternness and overall bravery, could easily wisp one into a state of perfect relaxation.

Sansa Stark
Boss Ass Bitch

Queen in the North

She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell.

Posts: 775

Bleeding Snow and Burning Hearts Jul 11, 2014 2:01:43 GMT -6

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Post by Sansa Stark on Jul 11, 2014 2:01:43 GMT -6

Sansa was hungry, in a sense, but she hadn't the faintest idea what she hungered for. There were so many things that famished her--love, justice, mercy, a new dress--but in truth what her heart wanted was what Jon was currently giving her. An embrace, as pure and potentially sinful as chocolate or a lover's kiss. Was it wrong to associate him with such ideals? He smelled of home and security, he made her promises, whispered in her ear and stroked her hair in such a loving manner. Sansa wanted to deny the heat that crept in through her abdomen, but no matter how hard she willed it away, it only returned tenfold.

"Food," she said with a small chuckle. "I don't know what sounds appealing. Will you pick something? We can eat on the terrace if you like. I enjoy looking at the mountains." Sansa rested her head back on his chest, never satisfied enough to let go.

FROM PORCELAIN TO IVORY TO STEEL

oathkeeper
Resident Jackass

"Take the Black"

Posts: 63

Bleeding Snow and Burning Hearts Jul 12, 2014 14:44:29 GMT -6

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Post by oathkeeper on Jul 12, 2014 14:44:29 GMT -6

May The Old Gods damn me, just as they did my brother, Jon deeply spited his gods as he stood proudly in this moment of solace, this insatiable feeling of desire and sin that was beginning to brew within him. Two decisions were faced with him in the past, the choice of love or the choice of duty. Through all the times he had picked duty, suffering and agony greeted his stoic eyes. He abandoned Robb, he abandoned Ygritte, not because Jon wanted to, but because his calling was for The Wall and The Wall alone. Yet, if he had picked his love, he knew that his fate would of been sealed long, long ago. Robb had picked love from the brief reports of the war he had gathered serving in the Night's Watch, and thus, The King in The North could nothing as his duty crumbled before him and the banners of the direwolf burnt to a crisp.

But Sansa...she was hope in Jon's eyes.

Hope for a new beginning, a new slate to wash away all of the blood and suffering. The world was cruel, Jon's true family either dead or scattered. Yes, his brothers of the Night's Watch would always be by his side, yet they could not compare to the memories of Winterfell. The more he looked at the redhead, the more the bastard had wished he had grown to appreciate her more. Sighing heavily, he kept his tender embrace around Sansa, fingers trickling down the fabrics of her dress and the well-groomed strands of fiery red hair.

"Surely, how about an old Northern dish? A good stew always helps as Old Nan constantly used to say." Jon laughed lightly, pulling himself away from Sansa reluctantly as his eyes directed himself to the balcony that was before the two children. With his brows tightening, the Bastard of Winterfell's vision focused. "A storm is brewing, my dear sister, maybe eating inside would be a better idea. I cannot image how bad storms must be so far up." the Lord Commander remarked, tilting his head to look directly back into Sansa's sapphire with a warm, welcoming smile.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Jon, a small servant girl was quietly making her rounds through the meeting hall. Picking up silverware and goblets onto a tray, she bowed very briefly growing near to the two highborns, continuing her duties quietly. Oddly though, as she began to leave the room, a small parchment escaped her frail hands and was placed firmly upon the table. Out of Jon's vision, as he was focused on Sansa, the servant quietly left as she had entered, a enclosed scroll with no seal awaiting upon the table.

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