」🇨🇴🇳🇹🇮🇳🇺🇪🇩 🇦🇸🇰 🇫🇷🇴🇲 🇭🇪🇷🇪「 @thornedthoughts “Slave to our secrets, sounds like the truth if I’ve ever heard it.” Olira felt like she’d been hiding in the dark her entire life, a whirl wind of being ignored or treated as the bastard she always knew she was. Now, though it felt as if she could be free - but there was something itchy to grab her ankle and drag her back into the rip tide, it threatened to keep her there if she so wished it. and sometimes she did. It seemed far easier to let her breath stop in her chest than to encourage herself to have dreams of a life that was never meant for her. Olira looked at Margaery, “Sansa is lucky to have you here for her, I’ve done all I can but the Northerners don’t trust me as much as they do her and soon It’ll be like it always was before,” even after winning the battle of the bastards she knew that they’d want a Stark to seat Winterfell which is why she’d won it back in the first place, “I just wish I knew what my place was here,”