LordReblik

In the end, she always knew that she would be the one that stood there in front of him with a dagger in hand and his blood all over.

In the end, he always thought that no matter what he would end up on top. He liked his jokes and sexual witticism, and the thought of being on top of every person in the world was more than enough to make him smile.

In the end, there was nothing that could save him. “But why, Sansa?” He asked after the Little Bird pecked at the Mockingbird once. He was on the ground and staring at his bloody wound that leaked his life blood from his middle in wonder, and then looked back up at her. “I have always looked out for you, I have taught you, I-“

She looked down at him with a cold nothingness that she did, in fact, learn from him. “Because you played the game of thrones at the expense of my entire family. The north remembers, Lord Mockingbird, and no matter what you have tried to make me, I am a Wolf from the North.”

She stepped closer to him, the pawn inspecting the open targeted kingpiece. He always believed that in the end there would be one of his pawns around to take the fall for him. He never thought that one of his pawns would be the one to give him Checkmate. Least of all her. That fact alone should have made him wary of her. It made him laugh. “You learnt the game well, Sweetling. Too well. But you won’t win in the end. You won’t win the game of thrones.”

“Neither will you,” She told him, and with it, she plunged the dagger into his heart, feeling as his life drained out of him. “You win or you die, my Lord. But even if you win, sooner or later, you die. Today is not my day to die, but it is yours.”

(via sansastark)