▐║ ♡ ┊ ❝ 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . . 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍. ❞ In the past, when they had spoken of strolling through the gardens and orchards of Highgarden together, this is not how Margaery had pictured it. She is all but a ghost roaming the halls of a castle once so safe and warm, robbed of many of the comforting faces of her family that had once inhabited it. Most of them are dead now. Killed in the explosion of the sept, and the scarce few that remain have been scattered by fear and war. She once thought Sansa to be as dead as they are. The Stark had been missing for so, so long, and if she ever resurfaced, Cersei would be certain to find her and kill her.
Yet here she is, come to entreat on behalf of the North. Her autumn-kissed hair is the same shade that Margaery remembers, the color that she had missed so dearly once it was no longer there to catch her eye every day. And her eyes, that same, crystalline blue that Margaery could swim in for hours on end. But they are not the same girls they had once been in those summer days passed at court. The Tyrell's lips part to speak again, like soft petals in bloom, but there are no words to match the profound relief she feels in that moment, the mere peace at knowing that Sansa is alive.
❝ For so long you have been naught but a phantom to haunt my mind. My heart. ❞ She hadn't known what loss truly felt like until she lost Sansa; the first taken from her, but not the last. Margaery reaches then, perhaps more familiar than what would be considered proper, but she's not sure she cares so much for that anymore. Must she bury it all for the sake of etiquette, and risk Sansa slipping from her grasp once more? There has been too much left unspoken since those days, too many things that should have been but were not, hidden beneath shared smiles. ❝ And now you are here before me, and for the first time since winter's arrival, it feels as if this grief that has gripped me has relented. ❞ Her hands cup the sides of Sansa's features, ever gentle upon her ivory skin, as if touch alone could keep her from disappearing from her life once again. The jade of her eyes holds the sheen of glass, half-disbelief, half-hope as she looks upon the wolven maid; her next words leaving her with a tremble of her lips, ❝ I missed you, Sansa. ❞
@0hsansa / @sigilsongs








