#჻ ❝ ι aм ѕтronger wιтнιn тнe wallѕ oғ wιnтerғell ❞ ( got | lady of winterfell )

[wardenesstm-blog]

     -- @fallesto​ ;; starter call

S a n d o r  C l e g a n e . Littlefinger had said that Brienne of Tarth had bested him in single combat. Sansa had thought him  d e a d, especially after seeing Arya and Brienne spar in the courtyard. Arya had  S A I D  he was dead.

No, Sansa thinks, she said she left him for dead.

And here he stands, once again in the walls of Winterfell.  W h y  is he here? Is he here to fight for the North? Or has he PLEDGED his sword to the Dragon Queen and her cause? A strange pit forms in Sansa’s stomach at the thought. She’s angry, she realizes. Angry that he’s come all this way and hardly looked at her. He could at least have the  d e c e n c y  to apologize for the last time she saw him.

Sansa straightens her back, balls her fists, and purses her lips: the  a r m o r  she’ll need to confront the Hound. “Clegane.” She doesn’t shout. A lady never  s h o u t s, but Sansa’s voice is clear and stern. She tries not to let the anger dissolve into a lesser  emotion under his gaze. She isn’t afraid of him. Not anymore. “You would walk the grounds of Winterfell without paying respects to its Lady?”

[wardenesstm-blog]

     -- @ofjordayne ;; starter call

I know her. Sansa chanced a glance at the newcomer, the Lady who had come to pledge her allegiance to the Dragon Queen. Not to Winterfell. Sansa pursed her lips at that thought. She had lost herself to thought amidst the formalities of pledging to  D A E N E R Y S  S T O R M B O R N , of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains...how did the rest of it go? She pressed her lips together more firmly.

J o r d a y n e ! Someone had mentioned the name aloud, and it finally clicked. House Jordayne. Words: TURN TO THE SUN. Seat: Tor. Sansa smiled proudly to herself. 

Once the formalities were over and  D O N E   W I T H , Sansa swiftly approached Lady Jordayne in order to welcome her to Winterfell more  P E R S O N A L L Y  and to glean as much information about her as was possible.

“Lady Jordayne.” Her curtsy and etiquette pristine as usual. “Welcome to Winterfell.”

[wardenesstm-blog]

     -- @singingoficeandfire ;; starter call

It’s clear from the Northern Lords’ GLARES, if not their whispers, that the knight and shadow of the Dragon Queen is Jorah Mormont, the same man Sansa’s father had exiled. She’s unsure how to feel about his presence in Winterfell for this exact reason. She makes a point to approach him in the courtyard hours after the queen’s armies arrived.

“Ser Jorah,” is her only greeting. “I expect you have  m i x e d  f e e l i n g s  about returning to the North.”

[wardenesstm-blog]

     -- @alordnamedsnow ;; starter call

They’re alone in the Lord’s chambers for now, after the  p r o c e s s i o n  and presentation of power which the Dragon Queen had so purposefully paraded in front of Winterfell and its lady. Sansa stares at the fire in the hearth a moment, quite UNSURE how to begin this difficult conversation; she’s seen how Jon looks at Daenerys.  M e n . Idiots, all of them.

“ J O N ...”

It’s as good as start as any. Sansa sighs. “I wish you had  T O L D  me before you bent the knee to a Targaryen.”

[wardenesstm-blog]

     -- @alordnamedsnow ;; the long night sc

Sansa shivered; ADRENALINE pumped through her body as she stared at the dead littering the crypt floor. She clutched Arya’s dagger so tightly her knuckles were surely white beneath her gloves. It was quiet for the first time since the battle had begun. She made her way up the steps and toward the courtyard, but when the door opened of its own accord, Sansa jumped  V I O L E N T L Y , brandishing the knife in defense before her brain registered who it was in the doorway.

“Jon?” Thank the gods. The dagger clattered unceremoniously to the floor as Sansa gathered her brother in her arms, nearly  s o b b i n g  in relief.

[wardenesstm-blog]

     -- @packsurvivcs ;; starter call

Though her face is a stone while she watches Arya spar with Brienne, Sansa is greatly impressed. What once was a CLUMSY and loud little lady now is a silent tactical machine. Even as Arya is knocked to the ground, she is on her feet once again in an INSTANT. 

In the time it takes for Sansa to descend the stairs to the courtyard, Brienne has taken her leave. Just as well. And just as EASY for Sansa to leave Littlefinger on the balcony with whatever poisonous mutterings he’d concoct.

“It seems as if we have both honed our TALENTS. Did you ever dream you’d be...THIS when you were a child?” She can’t find a  P R O P E R  word for what her sister is now.

[wardenesstm-blog]

     -- @podstye​ ;; starter call

“I don’t believe I ever thanked you.” If it weren’t for Brienne and Pod saving her from the Boltons she might still be in their clutches. That day...it seems like an eternity away now. Another world. Another Winterfell. Sansa worries her lip a moment. “THANK YOU.”

There is a beat of silence. “Can I ask you...why did you  s t a y ? With Brienne. Here. You’re not a northerner. Your family isn’t here.”

[wardenesstm-blog]

     -- @raiisedwolf ;; the long night sc

“Jon.” It was almost a question. “Jon!” Propriety be damned. Her heart had refused to slow to a agreeable beat during the battle, but her brother was here. He was ALIVE.

She was running through the crowd in the courtyard toward him, trying not to think about the bodies--oh  G O D S  so many bodies. Two gloved hands clasp Jon’s face in place of an embrace. “You’re alive.” An OBVIOUS statement. “Are you hurt? Are you alright?” Still more obvious questions. She tried to keep tears from spilling on her cheeks but there was no use. HE’S OKAY.