“You will see, Sansa.” She took her by the hand and gave it a squeeze. “Sister.” Sister. Sansa had once dreamt of having a sister like Margaery; beautiful and gentle, with all the world’s graces at her command. Arya had been entirely unsatisfactory as sisters went. ‘How can I let my sister marry Joffrey?’ she thought, and suddenly her eyes were full of tears.

god damnit arya, that was your dad

frompillow:

“I believe you grow more beautiful everyday, lady Sansa”

scienceofdiscontent:

oh look my brain.