It’s been awhile
I’m still working on my stories when I have time, but real life has put up some roadblocks. My writing and confidence have dramatically fallen off. Sadly, Idk when I’ll have enough material to actually update. I’ve written and rewritten so much, it’s honestly been exhausting. The best I can offer is this rough draft excerpt for a part of chapter 12 that still remains. I hope you like it.
“It’s beautiful.”
Walda Frey was gushing as she took in the Winterfell Godswood for the first time.
Her hesitant steps showed despite her compliment, uncertainty had its hold on her too. Her eyes darted too and then widened when they finally rested on the weirwood tree. The bark was pale white, looming over a pool that was black as night. She looked away from it after a beat as if the heart tree had caught her staring.
When she looked over to her, Sansa saw that the uncertainty had spread to Walda’s face. It was sinking in, she thought. Walda was realizing this was no garden built for a lord’s pleasure and leisure. This was a wood older than Winterfell itself.
“Is the Last Hearth godswood like this?”
“I do not know,” she answered, “I have never visited that castle.” She saw the disappointment in Walda’s eyes, “But you may ask Smalljon’s kin. They will be here for the Harvest Festival.”
“They won’t think me some silly southerner for asking?”
“They’ll likely already be thinking that.”
Walda’s brow furrowed in concern for a long heartbeat before it was brushed away by a pretty smile that was so full of life. She seemed to almost take it as a challenge to prove them wrong.
Sansa had come back to the godswood many times since she and Domeric had returned to Winterfell. The war in the south, the wildlings to the north, the Harvest Festival swirling through here, she felt if she was caught in a storm at times. This was a place she needed to retreat to for reflection and solace to rest her weariness and her nerves in the stillness and comforting silence that the godswood offered. Her husband joined her when he could, and she knew Domeric would visit when she was too busy with her responsibilities.
“Sansa?”
“Yes?” In a blink she was back to facing Walda Frey.
Her feet were nudging the dirt beneath her. “What do we do now?”