Snow — I’ll write a drabble of our characters building a snowman together.
Drabble Requests!Snow — a drabble of our characters building a snowman together
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Sansa remembered the first time she had seen snow. She had been a young girl, and Robb and Jon had woke her early in order to drag her to her window with shouts of gleeful excitement. The minute she had seen the tiny, white flakes falling from the sky, Sansa had been memorized, and had hurried to don her cloak and gloves in order to further experience the snow. They had played outside all day, only returning inside with red noses and snow melting in their hair when Mother had called for supper.
And now, kneeling in the snow beside her son, Sansa felt like she was witnessing that same day play out. Orick had never seen snow before - she had never thought she’d see it again either - but winter had indeed come and all the stories rang true. Nothing could escape Winter’s cold fingers, tentacles that stretched to every corner of the realm; their sole intention to cover every inch of land that had once been green and vibrant with life with the desolate chill of frost. Any signs of spring had disappeared. And not even the lions could prevent the Starks’ last promise from coming true.
Winter had come. And it had come with any icy vengeance.
But it had also brought beauty as well and joy, for not even Sansa could remain grim when her son was laughing and racing through the snow. She had let him play on his own at first, finding joy in simply watching him get his first taste of winter. but then his little hand had found hers, tugging at it insistingly until she had relented - quite easily - and knelt beside him in the snow, suggesting they do something she had once done as a child.
That was how she ended up beside him in the snow, helping him roll the snow so they could be used in order to build snowmen. Already, a small, crooked one stood - Orick’s first attempt, which stood no more than two feet high. This time, however, he seemed determined to make, as he said it, a snowman worthy of a prince. A prince of all snowmen. And so they had set to work.
Already, a base had been established and, while Sansa worked on the middle, Orick was working on the final part, the head. Sansa glanced over at her son, smiling as she saw the joy in his eyes. Joy was a hard thing to find within the walls of the Red Keep, and so every smile, every laugh, that her son shared with her was cherished. If she could, she would never let his smiles fade.
As they worked, Sansa found herself telling him of the times she had played with her siblings in the snow. No one else had braved the outside with them, so there was no one around to hear. She spoke of Robb and how he had showed her how to properly make her first snowball, only to turn on her and throw one right at her when she was not looking.
❝ Arya was vicious when we had snowball fights. You see, all of us laughed and yelped during these games, but Arya would fall silent and sneak up on you. And she was normally the smallest so she could hide. Once, she was so horrid as to throw one directly at my face! But Robb avenged me by getting her in the face with one as well. ❞
The memories made her smile has they began to put the finishing touches on their snowman. It was nearly complete now. All that was needed was to give it arms and to give it a face. It’s just a faceless man now, no prince of snowmen. We must change that. And so she sent Orick off to find some sticks and anything he saw fit to use for eyes and a mouth. As she waited, Sansa dusted the snow off her dress and wandered about the garden, but never straying far from their snowman. There was a heaviness in her heart now. For the memories she had of her siblings in the snow were all she would ever have. They would never get the chance to play in the snow again or even see it.
Winter had come as the Starks had said for ages, but there had only been one wolf present to greet it. All the others had been murdered by the beasts of summer. Would Winter let its children thrive and see to the end of Summer’s monsters? Sansa prayed it would. Let Winter’s frost cleanse the land so all may begin again when Spring awakens once more.
So lost in her thoughts, Sansa did not hear Orick approuch until it was too late. She heard snow crunch under his feet and, just as she began to turn around, something made contact with her arm. A snowball.
A gasp escaped her lips as she stared at her laughing son. Oh yes, of course he was amused at his little victory.But if it was war he wanted then war he would get.
❝ Orick! You better run, because I’m coming after you for that! ❞
And with a snowball in hand, she chased after her fleeing son, cloak billowing out behind her. Later, the guards would say that their laughter and yelps filled the silence of both the outside world and the halls of Keep. Later they would return inside, soaking wet and with chilled fingers and noses, and snow still melting in their hair. But their eyes would be bright with glee and their smiles wide and unfailing.
As for the snowman, it was left where it was, forgotten and faceless.
