open | when the white winds blow

[unprays]

Who: Sansa Stark (unprays) & OPEN
What: after falling asleep for three days, Sansa wakes with new memories and Tries To Adjust
When: backdated; between August 26 and September 1
Where: Thesa Station, various places in Olympia
Warning(s): your standard this is game of thrones warnings



i. — thesa station

[ she doesn't remember falling asleep. she doesn't remember sleeping — what she remembers is living. she remembers Winterfell, she remembers the Wall, she remembers Lyanna Mormont's cool gaze, Ser Davos with his gruff tone, Lady Brienne's steady presence. she remembers the snow falling on her cheeks, she remembers the loud declarations that crowned her brother king.

anyone who is in the hall may see her standing there, in front of an empty pod. gently, she places her hand on the glass. ] You gave me answers that I thought I wanted, and now that I have them, I would forget them. You gave me back my home, and you took it from me.

[ even with the heavy furs on her shoulders, Sansa feels far colder than she ever did in Winterfell. ]

ii. — silk wyrms & shades darker

[ she explains her absence with a sudden illness, privately glad that she only works part-time, thus not missing more than one shift.

( a. ) she starts her day in the Silk Wyrms, sitting behind the counter, adding embroidery to some shirts, rising to greet anyone who enters with a sweet, polite greeting.

( b. ) after her working hours are over, she steels herself and enters the Red Light District — Lady Koralle had tasked her with mending the clothes that required it, and she would do it. after all, it was because of her that she had been given the place in Silk Wyrms. she looks painfully out of place, but at least she does not need to be there long: only to pick up the clothes and then leave.

as she does, though, anyone who so much as looks at her will be fixed with a cool gaze and the words, ] It isn't very polite to stare.

iii. — closed to the stark (& greyjoy & half-targaryen) house

[ as soon as she is out of the pod, out of the virtual reality she uses to see whether she could find her brothers there, she leaves the station and hurries to their house. she knows it has been days, and even though she has spoken with Jon after waking up, it is not the same as seeing him, seeing all of them. it seems like a distant dream, now, Robb being alive and well again... and Theon, Gods, Theon. she had thought she knew what she owed him, but she had been wrong, so wrong.

as soon as she has the door open, she calls out, ]

Jon? Robb? Theon? Is anyone home? [ home. it pains her to speak the word, it pains her to think of having Winterfell and losing it again... but this is what they have. this is home, for better or for worse... with all of them there. together. ]

iv. — wildcard

[ none of these prompts suit you? want something else? feel free to just wildcard me, or hit me up with a PM or over on plurk @ celen for plotting or for requesting a starter, i'm more than happy to write one for you!

also, with this canon update, i want to remind everyone sansa has an opt-out post here, if you want to opt out of any of the subjects that come up in her canon! ]

Comments

[reek]

[ Theon finds himself growing angry, his teeth clenching together tightly as his gaze flickers back down to the bruises on her wrists. Of all matches Lord Eddard could have made for his daughter, he cannot imagine that House Bolton was ever on the table. Lord Roose had always been mild-mannered and soft-voiced, but there was always something more dangerous behind those pale eyes. Knowing Ramsay as the man he does, Theon himself cannot think of a worse match. He knows what Ramsay is capable of, and he's seen it--but he has yet to learn that those capabilities will extend to him as well. ]

Ramsay is Roose Bolton’s baseborn son.

[ His eyebrows knit together. Her mother wouldn’t have allowed this match. Her father wouldn’t have allowed it. Robb would have known better, even Jon would have known better. ]

Who permitted you to be wed to him? Who was it that arranged it?

[unprays]

No, [ she responds with quietly. ] Lord Roose legitimized Ramsay, made him his heir. Ramsay paid him back by killing him, so that he would become the Warden of the North.

[ no one has ever confirmed it... but she knows it's true. she knows Ramsay, and that is all she needs.

his question makes her breath out a soft laugh. ]

Lord Baelish.

[reek]

[ There were moments in Winterfell when Theon shrewdly wanted nothing more than to see the Starks just as unhappy as he always was, but he never truly meant it. Early on, he had tried desperately to hate them, but he never could. He even grew to love them, and he knows that Sansa doesn’t deserve this. Sansa never deserved this. His gaze darkens even further, as bad news upon bad new continues to stack up against him.

He laughs as well: soft and dark and bitter, but with a sharp edge. Ramsay in a position of power in the North is the most dangerous and terrifying thing he can imagine. ]

Regardless of Ramsay’s standing, what right did Lord Baelish have? Why did he not send a raven to the Wall?

[ Jon wouldn’t have allowed such a thing to happen. He knows it. ]

[unprays]

[ "bad news" is all she has lived with for so long — Theon, Jon and Brienne brought a light to her life she had forgotten... but their hard-won victory had come with the cost of losing their younger brother, and the knowledge that House Bolton was gone meant little now, in this land where the dead walked.

but Theon's question sends her mind spinning into more and more ifs; she had told Jon not to think like that, to think what he could have done differently... and yet here she is, thinking the same, wondering if she could have changed it all, if a raven to Jon could have saved her from Ramsay.

and someone else would have suffered in my stead, she thinks and shakes her head. ]

Lord Baelish married Aunt Lysa. He is my uncle by marriage, now. I suppose that gave him more right to speak for me and choose who I should marry. [ she smiles at him, wan and tired. ] The Lannisters forced me to marry Lord Tyrion, and they were of no relation to me. Why not ask what right they had to do that?

None, Theon. None, but it doesn't matter. I had to do it anyway.

[ because she was not in a position to say no. and when Brienne had come to take her away... she could have gone with her, but didn't. she didn't trust her then, and she will regret it forever. ]

[reek]

“Ward” is the word they might have chosen. It sounds prettier than “prisoner” when it comes to someone of no relation making decisions for you.

[ The words slip out with a laugh before he can stop them, and he doesn’t mean them to sound quite so bitter, but—it rings so familiar, doesn’t it? So many decisions were made for him in Winterfell, and many more might have been made if things hadn’t changed so quickly. Was it ever right that he should be the one to suffer for his father’s sins?

Roughly, he shakes his head, eyebrows knitting together as he reminds himself that now is not the time to air his personal grievances. He truly cares for Sansa, and none of what transpired after his father’s rebellion had anything to do with her. ]

I’m sorry. I did not mean—

[ He sighs, gritting his teeth as he gathers himself back together. Carrying on... ]

If Ramsay should wake here, do not approach him. Please. Let others deal with him. Myself, Jon, even my sister. She does not know his face, but she knows of him. As it stands, he and I have unfinished business.

[ Unfortunate that when given the opportunity, Theon will find himself too overwhelmed to take it. ]