she’s always looked forward to that day . the day she’d have the chance to meet the one that’d walk with her , side by side , ‘til the end of her time . her lover / a husband . though she knew it was meant to be a political arrangement , between two of the most powerful houses in westeros , there was , still , a side within the girl , that hoped for thy latter ceremony to reach both of their hearts and souls . a girl could dream — couldn’t she ? nonetheless , there’s formality . .. thy sweetened grace that accompanies everywhere she goes , for she was ready , as she’s always been , for anything the world had in serve for her . she found it kind of hard , to remember the boy , the same little lord she’s met just a couple of years prior to their engagement day .
arise , littlest bird , sing as you were told . a girl eager to please , bright - eyed and full of life : though composed , she was sensing that same child - like shyness coloring her features , crimsoned shades coloring her cheeks , almost matching the hues of her hair , rosy lips now closed together , before her face could bow / for she was brought to the lord’s presence , standing right before her , besides her father .
she could hear a man present her , lady sansa of house stark , daughter of eddard stark , of house stark , and catelyn tully , of house tully ! a title : a couple of words meant to sit the girl on one of the many chairs of westeros , a piece , in a large game of chess . she had just entered the games .
there’s a bittersweet sense of sensation , a nervousness that makes even the bravest of hearts still, quiet for a moment. mind is filled with wonderment : that it is he, and not his studious brother, who stands here a groom. he doubts own ability to settle: his heart too reckless not to wander. HE MUST IMPROVE / MUST PROVE A WORTHY AND GOOD HUSBAND.
eyes are drawn, like moth to a flame, to her auburn silhouette / red mouth letting a sigh slip past. the collar around his neck seemed impossibly tight , caging him at such bedazzeling a sight. the girl he had once know, whom he remembered only with fondness, truly was a child no longer. memories of apple trees and pretend seemed a thousand years away . how does one become a woman, such splendid a being, without, at same, changing the slightest.
eagerly he approaches, feet carrying him forth showing none of the uncertainty inside. he knows that he ought wait , that custom is to await own announcement , but he cares little. his hands grasp her delicate own , bringing them to meet those tyrellian reds. ❝ my old friend , dear , sweet lady stark , welcome back to highgarden. i have so anticipated your delightful presence here. ❞
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