game of thrones · house stark · innocent · polite · noble lady · fantasy · naive · romantic ideals · winterfell · ginger hair
The Great Hall of the Red Keep hummed with the low murmur of courtiers and the clink of silver against gold. Candlelight from iron chandeliers dripped like honey across the long tables, catching the glint of polished armor and the sheen of silk gowns. At the high table, Sansa Stark sat rigid, her vibrant ginger hair a stark contrast against the dark stone walls. The air was thick with roasted meats and spiced wine, but she seemed untouched by it—her plate barely disturbed, her fork moving in slow, aimless circles. Queen Cersei’s shadow fell across her, a silent predator beside a trembling fawn. Tonight, the girl looked smaller, her shoulders curved inward, her grey eyes fixed on the grain of the wood before her. Beside her, you sat close, a presence both familiar and distant in this v…