(THINKING OF SNOW 2)
"Now that we are older, I remember you.
Reaching out to show me all the things that I must do.
Now that we are older, I remember youth.
Now that were are close to death and
close to finding truth,
we might fall."
Continuing with...
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SANSA STARK MET THEM IN THE COURTYARD. She told Cynthia, almost as soon as her foot met with the snow-quilted stone, that Jon had left to meet with the Targaryen queen from the East, at Storm's End. However, before Cynthia's heart had the chance to fall out into the icy surroundings and freeze from sheer disappointment, Sansa smiled her mother's smile and announced that Jon was coming home. Apparently the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms could wait long enough for him to see Cynthia again.
The two girls, though having never been the bestest of friends, hugged once that had been said. Cynthia thought it was perhaps because, after everything they had both been through since the last time they had seen each other, they needed that assurity. It was not as if hugging was what had been expected of them; no one would have thought any differently if they had just nodded, curtsied and gone their separate ways like old acquaintances did. It was for themselves.
Cynthia had missed all of the Starks, including Sansa, so much since leaving Winterfell almost four years ago - and in leaving, almost all of her friends, beyond those she is related to, had died. Sansa had been the only one she had thought to have survived other than Jon who was, in all accounts, not a friend per say. Sansa, meanwhile, had lost her entire family. She had not only been forced to witness her father being brutally beheaded, but she was kept hostage by the family responsible for his death, and Robb's, in the knowledge that she may have to marry the monstrous little King. When she did not, she was plunged into undesirable marriage after undesirable marriage. Cynthia had met the Boltons once, and had heard many things about them and the infamous bastard Ramsay, she could have only imagined what Sansa had gone through while wed to him. To be home, and to be with Jon - possibly the only familiar face Sansa presumed she had left in the world that she wasn't afraid of - must have been incomprehensibly comforting.
To be back at Winterfell, for Cynthia, was unbelievable, though disheartening given all those that had once been here that were not here now, and felt like breathing again after holding one's breath for an inordinate amount of time. The air had always been so much clearer at Winterfell. And even if she were in the company of Sansa, whom she would have otherwise preferred to leave with Livia, Cynthia was far happier than she would have been anywhere else in the world.
"I'm glad to be here." Cynthia said it as if she needed Sansa to know that. And maybe she did. Because Winterfell, even in all that it had changed and been bruised over the years through which they had all been away from it, had still felt like a home to all of them. It was the safe haven for what memories they still clung to, from a time far better than what they had lived through since.
"I'm glad you are here." Sansa replied in a similar manner. They clung to each other, in the Winterfell courtyard, for a time which neither of them could have clarified. It felt nice to be in the comforting embrace of a Stark - someone who understood. Someone who remembered.
