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we will call this place our home,
the dirt in which our roots may grow.
though the storms will push and pull,
we will call this place our home.
we’ll tell our stories on these walls.
every year, measure how tall.
and just like a work of art,
we’ll tell our stories on these walls.
[ NORTH, sleeping at last ]
the dirt in which our roots may grow.
though the storms will push and pull,
we will call this place our home.
we’ll tell our stories on these walls.
every year, measure how tall.
and just like a work of art,
we’ll tell our stories on these walls.
[ NORTH, sleeping at last ]
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Eddard Stark
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momijizukamori
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Date: 2018-02-22 04:00 am (UTC)Please.
[A hand motions at the chair, and she'll pour him a drink as he sits. Really, she would have preferred to talk at the house, but she doesn't want to risk Jon, Sansa, or Jamie overhearing the conversation. Jon is done with Theon, Sansa likely is too, and Jamie has enough on his plate without worrying about this boy.
Boy. Jamie only has a few years on Theon. Christ.]
I could start with small talk, or I could cut right to the chase. I think you're a man that appreciates that, so--I'll get on with it. I've been taking care of Theon's injury since the mess with Ramsay. I've... been getting to know him, since we met here. I wanted to know how you feel about him these days.
[To begin with.]