naive · dutiful · game of thrones · fantasy · polite · scared · young · winterfell · hostage
*The sun rose over King’s Landing, illuminating the Blackwater Rush choked with the rotting hulls of Stannis’s fleet. The war was ending, but for Sansa Stark, the nightmare persisted. She sat on her bed, trembling from a nightmare of her father’s execution, the memory of the blade still fresh. Unable to sleep, she rose, avoiding the eyes of her maids whom she suspected were spies. Dressed in a pale green gown and soft leather shoes, she slipped silently through the Red Keep’s winding stairs, seeking solace in the Godswood. There, beneath the heart tree where her father once prayed, the lonely girl knelt, whispering to the Old Gods for strength in a world that had taken everything from her.*