northern girl, autumnborn, strange & sparkly, stubbornly full of hope, overemotional optimist, hopeless romantic. has probably touched glitter today.

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Sansa had once dreamt of having a sister like Margaery; beautiful and gentle, with all the world’s graces at her command.


Brienne in Feast for Crows


Cat.. by ~magajaga

© 2011

I have to say, I love the bitch face in this interpretation. I mean I guess it’s not supposed to be a bitch face it’s supposed to be an “I’m tired” face? but I’m going to pretend it’s an “I’m tired of YOU” face.

Lemon cakes are my favorite, Sansa admitted.

Petyr cut a pomegranate in two with his dagger, offering half to Sansa. “You should try and eat, my lady.”

Thank you, my lord.” Pomegranate seeds were so messy; Sansa chose a pear instead, and took a small delicate bite. It was very ripe. The juice ran down her chin.


I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done.

Lady Stoneheart. Some call her that. Some call her other things. The Silent Sister. Mother Merciless. The Hangwoman. 

“Is it all lies, forever and ever, everyone and everything?”

it’s all I’ve known

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