Hers was a gentle prison.
”- Robb?
- Dacey…”
House Martell by ~LiquidSoulDesign
I should have been with him. Where was I?
Robb Stark’s life was filled with no shortage of strong women.
His lady mother was soft of body, but strong of mind and steadfast like he’d never seen in a woman. Before the War, he spent many years completely unaware of the titan that lurked beneath the surface of Catelyn Tully.
The memories of his sisters grew once word got to him of one and the other eluded him for even longer. Sansa was a wolf sat in a pit of snakes, self-contained and wary enough not to lash out and be overwhelmed. And Arya’s ability to stay hidden, to stay moving, no matter where she was (for Robb knew she wasn’t dead), spoke of his little sister’s resilience.
But Lady Dacey was another tale entirely. The sullen-faced men who brought him news of her state in the belly of the Twins spoke of how she sat, body turned towards the barred door, and how her eyes burned at the hissed mention of the King of the North.
One day, Robb would find a way to pry that door open for good, but he knew better than to think he’d save her.
The women in his life were not women to be saved.
→ then one day, wake up and she’ll be home.
“What do you pray for, Sansa?”
I pray for Robb’s victory and Joffrey’s death…and for home. For Winterfell. (x)
