continued @win-cr-die
jorah the andal … not only had he been her most trusted advisor and her closest friend but he had loved her. it was a rarity in this cruel and unjust world to find somebody so deserving of life and as her ocean orbs fell upon the golden haired bear for the first time, daenerys stormborn had knew that he would always serve as somebody who would create an I M P A C T on her life. in her short years of living, she had been through her own wars with the exiled knight. there had been times, much like long nights of battle, where their trust had fallen and yet –– they had always found their way back to one another. through misplaced trust and deceit, to near death experiences on both sides, they had always fought for survival where they rightfully belonged … beside the other. now, that had changed. and as promised, jorah had given his life to her. his heart had been hers, his sword had been hers and even more ironically, his life had been hers. some people were far too pure for the despicability that boiled between the seven kingdoms and he was one of them. daenerys had sat with him, mourned for him and felt her own hear break for him. but what she could not do, was protect him from the inevitable death that imploded upon him when the great war had ended.
swallowing the lump within her throat, refusing to lift her eyes to meet the winter blues that belonged to the redhead, daenerys allowed her jaw to clench ever so slightly as she felt the tears that she had tried so hard to bury coming to the edge. sapphires threatened to flood, glittering hues screwing themselves shut for a moment as the scroll between her fingers fell from her digits and landed on the oak of the northern table below her arms –– searching DESPERATELY for the words of solace that had left sansa’s lips. it was an honourable thing to do … to come looking for the queen who she had not seen eye to eye with and as expected, the mother of dragons felt a respect burning within her stomach. much like the feeling of butterflies batting around her vital organ, only she could feel small flickering flames igniting within her as she finally found the bravery to raise her hand in gesture to the seat opposite her –– welcoming the lady of winterfell into her chambers. sansa had also dealt with loss. had daenerys endured some of the things that the eldest daughter of ned stark had, she was not sure of how she may have managed. though both of them had lived very similar tales; married to men they did not want to marry, treated like slaves and torturedthroughout the night as a thin feathered pillow was the only thing to stop their tears from rolling down their cheeks and the bloodcurdling sobs that wanted to leave parted petals.
“perhaps burying myself in work is not the best thing to do … but ser jorah would have wanted me to continue fighting for the throne. i can almost still hear his voice, calling me khaleesi and looking at me with those saddened eyes –– urging me to do what is right by my people. lady sansa, tell me. how did you cope when you lost your youngest brother, rickon? i understand that very soon after, you became the lady of winterfell. did you take your time to mourn or did you do what your people needed you to do?”
immediately, she regrets her decision to engage with the dragon queen. not for any reason other than the fact it makes sansa a complete and utter HYPOCRITE. how can the girl give others counsel on their grief when she can’t even find a way to cope with her very own. still, she doesn’t bow out, she only continues to walk further into the room where daenerys is taking a moment. her eyes flash over with an unknown emotion once the queen mentions rickon by name. young, sweet, innocent, rickon. his death stung in a way robb’s or her parent’s didn’t. rickon never got to live, never TRULY live. with a sigh, she provides a simple shrug of her shoulders. ‘ admittedly, your grace, my first thought was to secure winterfell for my family. i wanted a safe place for arya and bran to return home to. rickon’s death only enforced that need to protect one another. ’ besides, at this point jon was in charge at winterfell, not sansa, this was long before he decided to find his new queen at dragonstone, though her emotions don’t dare convey bitterness to daenerys. ‘ once winterfell was ours again, i did everything i could for my people. i suppose along the way, grieving rickon came second place. at times, i regret that. ’ her tone embodies the sadness and regret she speaks of, arms coming to cross over her center. with a sigh airing reluctance, she looks to the work the queen had spread about the table, teeth biting gently at her bottom lip in worry. ‘ the loss you feel now, that i feel now -- it seems unbearable, but i suppose the best we can do for the brave men we both lost is make sure the world they died protecting remains a good and safe place for all to live. ’