prev. goodqueenalys // semi hiatus

     Jon stared at Sansa’s body where is was laid in repose in the Great Hall of Winterfell Castle, with Ghost keeping vigil at her feet. She was still as the grave; still as she had been since she took a bite of Queen Cersei’s poisoned apple and breathed her last. Her skin is still white as snow, hair red as a rose; were it not for how still she was, and how cold, it was almost as though she could merely be sleeping. Jon swung up his wineskin and took a long drag as he approached her.       “You deserved better... I once had a wife, Princess. Ygritte was her name. When I came back from the wars I carried with me the stench of death and the anger of the lost. I wasn't worth saving, that's for sure. She did so anyway. And I loved her so much. I loved her more than anyone or anything. Then I let her out of my sight and she was gone. And I became myself again. A self I never cared for. Until you. See, you remind me of her. Her heart, her spirit. But now you, too, have gone. You both deserved better and I'm so sorry I failed you. I'm so sorry. But you'll be a queen in Heaven now and sit among the angels.”      He took a shuddering breath and fought to keep the tears he felt coming at bay. As he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips, Jon felt one hot tear slide down his cheek. “Rest well my love.”