![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
And then there were none - OTA
Dec. 21st, 2017 12:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
st_arkcrowblackShe was gone. Sansa was gone.
It wasn't unusual for Snow White not to see Sansa for a day or two. Sansa kept to herself much of the time, shy of many of the inn’s inhabitants. But she would find Snow, would talk to Snow, and it would always bring light and warmth to Snow’s day to see her. She didn’t understand why. She didn’t need to know, so long as she could have this.
Yesterday had been just about the most magical day in her life. She'd found Sansa building a castle in the snow, and they'd worked quietly together on this tiny model of a castle called Winterfell. Snow had finally worked up her nerve and kissed her after those last touches were made. It had been terrifying. It had been achingly sweet. But it had not been bad. Neither of them knew what it meant, and yet...
And then today she just knew something was different. Something was wrong. She had gone to Sansa’s room. Then to the desk.
She didn’t cry. Or scream, or rage. Instead she calmly and quietly collected four glass bottles from the bar and took them out to a fence along the road.
She had four bullets left in Rose Red. Two had been used in Songrun, and she had been saving the rest until Percy could make her more. She lined up the bottles on the fence, and stepped back as far as she thought she could manage.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Zero.
She dropped the gun and went down on her knees in the grass, staring at nothing.
It wasn't unusual for Snow White not to see Sansa for a day or two. Sansa kept to herself much of the time, shy of many of the inn’s inhabitants. But she would find Snow, would talk to Snow, and it would always bring light and warmth to Snow’s day to see her. She didn’t understand why. She didn’t need to know, so long as she could have this.
Yesterday had been just about the most magical day in her life. She'd found Sansa building a castle in the snow, and they'd worked quietly together on this tiny model of a castle called Winterfell. Snow had finally worked up her nerve and kissed her after those last touches were made. It had been terrifying. It had been achingly sweet. But it had not been bad. Neither of them knew what it meant, and yet...
And then today she just knew something was different. Something was wrong. She had gone to Sansa’s room. Then to the desk.
She didn’t cry. Or scream, or rage. Instead she calmly and quietly collected four glass bottles from the bar and took them out to a fence along the road.
She had four bullets left in Rose Red. Two had been used in Songrun, and she had been saving the rest until Percy could make her more. She lined up the bottles on the fence, and stepped back as far as she thought she could manage.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Zero.
She dropped the gun and went down on her knees in the grass, staring at nothing.
