Stalactites of candle wax dripped from the small table; brittle white tendrils that had grown thick over time. He’d managed to keep a constant flame going, altered his schedule so that when one was burning down he could transfer the light to another. He’d kept the light going for over a year now. A constant light burning, a constant prayer-the
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Comments 6
The only concrit I have would be that Sandor would most likely that even had he killed Ser Illyn or Joffrey it would have been futile, he would've been struck down before he could save her.
Loved this line:
He was nearly certain that she was dead. That by his inaction he’d killed her. Either way, he’d live for her and only for her-her life, her chances, her memory-only her. If she ever had need he’d save her--as he should have a thousand times before.
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This whole project sounds so awesome. Can't wait to read more!
(But I also hope you won't abandon your other fics now that they're back ;))
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The mood of this piece is incredible - at turns heartbreaking and frightening. It left me almost afraid for Sandor's state of mind, and what really would happen to him if he found out Sansa was dead.
It is also realistic - I can see book or tv cannon Sandor acting like this; if he devoted himself so thoroughly to the travesty that was the Lannisters, I can only imagine how he will cleave himself to the memory (and near worship) of his Little Bird.
I have no concrit to offer, only a plea for moremoremore!
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The last line where he hates himself for wanting something to save her from is gorgeous.
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