❈ | 002 | Written

Sep. 23rd, 2011 08:10 pm
fearcutsdeeperthanswords: (A Stark of Winterfell)
Villages aren't like that, and you can't buy a miracle. There are no miracles. [And now that that's addressed and out of the way, she can move on.]

There are a lot of animals here. Who has one? How did you get them?

[Private to Hannibal]

Was the brush really magic?

[Private to Jon]

You weren't my brother. [What does this mean. D:]

[Private to Jesse]

[She has no idea what to say, she just wants to see if he's okay. :\ BUT THAT IS TOO EASY.] Were you a stupid prince, too?
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When at last she slept, she dreamed of home. The kingsroad wound its way past Winterfell on its way to the Wall, and Yoren had promised he'd leave her there with no one any wiser about who she'd been. She yearned to see her mother again, and Robb and Bran and Rickon...But it was Jon Snow she thought of most. She wished somehow they could come to the Wall before Winterfell, so Jon might muss up her hair and call her "little sister." She'd tell him, "I missed you," and he'd say it too at the very same moment, the way they always used to say things together. She would have liked that. She would have liked that better than anything.
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