It's such a shame that Game of Thrones got canceled after 7 good seasons.
I was really looking forward to Jon fighting off the Night King and Arya finally striking Cersei's name off her list, and strangling her to death disguised as Jaime, after 7 seasons of build up to her becoming 'mad queen' and unleashing wildfire unto her enemies.
(I mean let's be honest here Cersei wouldn't deserve a humanizing death in the arms of her brother lover)
It's so sad that we didn't get to see Jon abdicate
It would've been nice to see Lady Lyanna Mormont rallying for Sansa to be Queen in the North after Jon abdicated and Bran serving as her adviser. Like could you even imagine Tyrion naming Daeny 'Queen of the Six Kingdoms' after she and Sansa get married to form an alliance.
Why is everyone so angry about Daeny's death and nobody is considering that a crippled boy and a dwarf are ruling the kingdoms? The most unlikely duo, but the only one who can really make the difference.
I consider this an optimistic turning point, it was not well developed and absolutely too fast, but I liked it.
[[A little something to entertain myself while I wait for Sunday. This focuses on Sansa after the Night King has been defeated (finding Arya/Bran, finding Theon, running into Daeny)-- I wrote this without putting much thought into it, so pardon any inaccuracies/misspellings. As always, thank you for reading! ((Theonsa/Jorleesi-- the relationships aren’t really the focus.))]]
As soon as the dead fell before her, Sansa turned to the exit. She gave Tyrion’s hand a gentle squeeze before she raced outside, the cold of the night chilling her. She needed to find her brothers and sister. She needed to be sure they were still alive. She did not know where Jon or Arya may be in the mess of the battle, but she knew where Bran was stationed. She would find him there. Theon, too.
She lifted her cloak and ran as fast as she could, adrenaline coursing through her. She had spent so much time in the godswood recently, it was the best setting for quiet thinking. The cold wind tore at her exposed skin and her red hair fell from its braid as she raced on, taking every shortcut she knew.
Arya was hunched over in the snow when she arrived, Bran still seated safely in his chair. “Arya,” Sansa breathed a sigh of relief, running to her sister and wrapping her in her arms.
“I did it,” Arya whispered, her body sinking into her sister’s embrace. “I killed him.” It was a statement, not a brag.
“Killed who?”
“The Night King,” Bran responded, his voice dull, without emotion.
Sansa’s eyes widened, starring at a shell-shocked Arya. She turned back to Bran, “Is Jon alive?”
A pause from Bran before, “Yes.”
It was then Sansa realized who was missing from the scene. “Bran, where is Theon?”
Bran’s gaze looked past Sansa’s shoulder, his expression passive. Sansa turned to where he looked, and felt her breath hitch in her throat. Theon’s body was sprawled awkwardly in the snow, the white powder dark underneath him. “Arya, take Bran home. Find Jon.”
Neither sibling protested, or if they did Sansa did not hear, she was already running the short distance to Theon’s body. She collapsed in front of him, her eyes burning as tears fell down her cheeks. “Theon,” She cried, taking his hand in hers. She closed her eyes, not able to look upon his face. She felt her body stiffen when Theon’s fingers laced through hers.
She forced herself to look at him then, nearly sobbing when she saw him blink. “Theon,” she said again, forcing herself to gain composure. The spear was lodged in his stomach, but he was still alive, somehow. Sansa knew he would not stay that way. He had been here, lying in the snow, bleeding out and suffering, for who knew how long. The thought caused another strangled sob to spill from her.
“You’re a good man, Theon,” She choked out, forcing herself to smile at him. Blood pooled from his mouth. “I love you,” she said, this time unable to control the sound of sadness in her voice, the sob that escaped from her. She pulled the dagger from her coat, her hand shaking as she placed the blade lightly against Theon’s throat. “I love you,” she said again, before dragging the blade swiftly across his jugular, ending his suffering in one fluid motion.
She fell against him, sobbing uncontrollably, her body shaking.
Sansa didn’t move again until she heard footsteps approaching. She lifted her head from Theon’s chest, and rose to her feet, standing in front of his body, holding the dagger out in front of her. She relaxed only a little when Daenerys appeared from the shadows of the trees, but tucked the dagger away. She looked exhausted, and terrified. “Sansa? Where is Jon? He was coming to save Bran last I--”
“--He’s with everyone else. He is okay.” Daenerys nodded. “Are you?” Sansa wondered, eyes trailing to Daeny’s blood-soaked cloak.
Daeny followed her gaze, a hand resting over the mess of dried blood. “It is not mine,” she said, sadly. “Ser Jorah--” The words died in her throat. Sansa did not need to hear them.
Only then did Daeny see the body behind Sansa, and Sansa could see the sadness she had been trying to hide return. Daeny’s eyes moved from Theon to Sansa, and their gazes locked.
Wordlessly they threw their arms around each other, falling into the snow, their bodies shaking as they both began to cry again. Sansa gripped the back of Daeny’s cloak with her hands, and she felts Daeny’s hands weave through her hair. They understood each other’s pain. Their hearts were shattered for lost love.
They sat locked in an embrace until the first rays of sunlight began to filter down. “We had better return. They will be looking for us,” Daeny said, breaking their hug. Her eyes were red, Sansa’s were too. Sansa cast one last glance at Theon, using her palm to shut his eyelids.
Daenerys helped Sansa to her feet, and together the two women walked back to the heart of the North, side by side.
