sardoniyx: Stannis’ knuckles are white where they grip the back of his chair. “You&rsquo

sardoniyx:

Stannis’ knuckles are white where they grip the back of his chair. “You’re married,” he states, deadpan, and his brows furrow over the bridge of his nose. “To whom?”
Sansa smiles placidly, belying her thundering pulse. “Jon. Lord Snow.”

As Long as We’re Going Down// alienor_woods
requested by qinaliel