My take on season 8 of #GameofThrones.
Winter is coming to Westeros as Daenerys and Jon go North to fight the great threat.
The Night king's army grows larger and stronger, the days get colder and the nights darker.
Arya, Bran and Sansa struggle to...
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It was early still but the sun was already coming down. In winter, days grow shorter and shorter and by the time it is settled, theres no daylight at all. People dwell in darkness and the strongest alone live to see the sun again. Winters are hard but the Starks will endure, thought Sansa. She grabbed her hand mirror. In her reflexion she looked for the beauty so many saw.
Instead, Sansa spotted her sunken cheeks, the bluish circles under her eyes and the emptiness inside them. She found herself hard to recognize. No corset fit her anymore, all hang loose around the waist, even when seated. Famine had taken over the North. As always it was the low born who were impacted first. Here in Winterfell, there was enough to feed every mouth.
That was another thing weighting down on her conscience, half the country starving yet she couldn't get herself to take the smallest bite of the steamy been stew that Keelin had brought to her. It wasn't the first meal she had wasted though. Every day was tougher than the one before. In every matter. Harder to eat, harder to breathe, harder to sleep.
She missed her appetite for lemon cakes, the knot she constantly felt in her stomach left no room for cravings. Sleep she missed as well, maybe more than anything. Many times she had dreamt of a sleep so deep it would never end.
Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap.
The sound of quality sole on the stone floor in the hallway broke in to her slumber, settling all over her mind until it was all she could think of.
Tap tap tap tap. It came closer.
Her heart started racing and no matter how hard she tried to keep it out of her head, the little voice still made its way in. He's coming back, it said. He's coming back. She tilted the mirror towards the door, ready for the monster to show up. The guard knocked and came in to announce the visitor but all her senses were flooded with an ocean of despair. Her eyes, shackled on the mirror, couldn't focus on what they were seeing. Her ears couldn't her a thing aside the little voice. He's coming back, it echoed. Unable to swim and begging for some air, her spirit sunk in a wave of cold and fear.
From the deep she was still fighting for one more breath. The sound of a thud dove in from afar « My lady ? » It was a tiny little noise, hard to hear amongst the sea of worry, but she clinged to it until it pulled her out for fresh air. This voice, she could hear clearly this time, dragged her to the surface « My Lady, » he said. She drew a sharp breath and let the miroir slip out her fingers. It hit the wooden desk in a loud noise that brought her back to reality. She came to her mind and looked down, still breathing heavily. « apologies my Lady. I didn't mean to scare you, » said the guard standing behind her.
As always she acted the part, she stood up, arranged her skirt and turned around to face him, « it's quite alright » she said. « Lord Tyrion, here to see you, my Lady. »
