Thread: let no man steal your thyme || for xlilxmissx

It was this that Westeros burnt to cinders, but in the cold, harsh plains of the North, the world seemed thoroughly unchanged. The Blackwater had burst into flames. The Starks of Winterfell had all but been wiped into nonexistence. Castle Black had opened its gates to Wildlings and giants and all manners of barbarians. The King on the Iron Throne had died and died again, and Sansa had been betrothed thrice and married once. Yet the Kings Road was just as it had always been, lined on both sides with trees whose age rivaled that of the Wall itself. Only now, a soft blanket of powdered snow hung from branches that had lost most of its leaves and the few dwellings they passed were so obviously abandoned. They would find no inns to house them between here and wherever Stannis Baratheon planned to take them first. Few noticed the young woman whose Tully blue eyes peered from behind the small, draped window of the carriage that carried the kings honored guest. For hours, she devoured what bit of scenery she could lay her gaze upon, hungry for the sight of the brutal, untamed land she once could not wait to leave. Only when the scape began to change, to morph into lusher, greener foliage, did she draw the curtain and settle into the darkness once more. She listened to the goings-on beyond her four walls, vaguely picking out pieces of conversation now that her attention was not so monopolized by her longing for the lost North. The men were tired, afraid, but she could not miss the hint of hope each time they spoke of the new addition to Stannis Baratheons retinue. Even now, she had refused to truly make sense of what she had agreed to in giving her hand to the king without a castle, yet the thousands that followed her would-be husband seemed to have already begun doing that for her. Would the North follow her, some wondered. Would that be enough to break the hold of the Lannisters? She was about to will herself into pondering those questions when she caught wind of their destination. Almost immediately, Sansa had to fight the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She knew Stannis was going south but, beyond the Neck, they would be easily recognized and likely slaughtered, offered to the Lannisters and the Tyrells for coin or sport. A wave of terror accompanied the rush of unwanted memories that almost sent her bolting out of the carriage. She would happily lose herself in the forest trying to find her way back to Castle Black before she agreed to travel so close to the borders of her enemies. Sansa had almost made up her mind to do exactly that when a loud knock broke her from her dangerous line of thought. For half a second, she considered feigning sleep, but immediately thought better of it. Steeling herself against whatever laid beyond the safety of her little cage, she opened the carriage door. The gust of cold air was not unwelcome as it cooled the small space she had been granted. You cannot take us to Oldtown! she blurted out just a little louder than she intended. Her cheeks flushed pink at her unusual outburst and her voice lowered to a softer whisper, though the fear laced it just as potently. Please, my lord, that is too far south, too close to she grew quiet, unable to name the evil that resided in the Southron lands. Please, she begged instead, her body bent forward so that she was looking down at the king, her pale blue eyes searching his while one of her gloved hands, unbeknownst to her, escaped the confines of her cloak and now held to his forearm as if afraid that he would turn away and ignore her.