━ in which; Sansa Stark, Queen in the North, receives a raven from across the sea, speaking of how her dear sister had come into contact with another race of people from the mysterious, rumoured magic of the sea on Arya's desire to answer the age o...
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The sun peeked in through the crack of the door, a bright, pale light that burned with the fury of an angry god. Sansa cracked a pale blue eye to it, all the while her face screwed up into a grimace. In her home, the winter sun that would last near months had made her grow accustomed to the light constantly peeking in through her bedroom window, yet on the same note, that did not mean the Queen in the North appreciated it.
She groaned and rolled onto her stomach, burying her face away from the horrid touch of the light. It was so small, yet so bright and such a minor inconvenience that it felt like a major one. The red haired woman clenched her eyes shut, as if to forget all memories of the light breaking through the dawn and returned to the dreamlands.
The next time the woman awoke, however, was jarring. There was a foot nudging between her shoulders. Small, gentle kicks jostling her to the waking world, none the less, Sansa near jumped a foot in the air. She curled in on herself with the blanket wrapped around her, fleeing from the foot as she shook like a leaf in the wind.
"Is she dead?" A childlike voice asked, curious, yet undercut with what sounded almost like fear. There was a feminine hush and a soft reassurance.
Alva barked a harsh laugh, "Not dead, that's for certain."
Blue eyes focused in on the figures of the three others. Her vision briefly fuzzed in and out of focus, though the base characteristics and heights ran through her mind like a catalogue. Alva, and finally Sansa realised, her partner, Dagny, her mind supplied, and her son, who's name, she unfortunately didn't remember. She rolled her eyes, petulant like a child, as if it would rinse the adrenaline from her system like a storm washed the humidity from the air.
"Good morning." Dagny greeted with a small smile. "You near missed breakfast, 'tis okay, though. Calder insisted we wake you."
Sansa forced a grimace to appear more like a smile. Her stomach twisted at the thought of food, simultaneously rumbling in the kind of way that made her wonder if she was hungry, or going to be violently ill. The boy offered a bashful grin and curled behind Alva. "Thank you, Calder."
