[ All things are bittersweet in the world. There is nothing that remains untouched by sadness' gaze or suffering's shadow, Alayne knows that know. All of the happiest memories that she has — Sansa's memories, of a time long ago — are now clouded by hindsight and death (a red rose at a tourney, a walk near a river with a golden lion, a dress that she'd sworn was a gift for the Tyrell, snowflakes in Robb's hair). It tempers Alayne's willingness to answer and, for a time she is tempted to say that all happiness fades with time and leaves nothing behind but the longing for what is past; but that is unfair and cheating besides. She'd granted him a single question without prompting and it would be a sign of poor faith to deny him the answer that goes with it.
And so, Alayne falls silent and thoughtful on her end of the line. The conversation stretches into silence, but eventually, the answer comes. ]
Snow. In the trees and on the ground, freshly fallen and still soft underfoot. Snow caught on my lashes and in others' hair. Snow on my tongue, bright white and crisp.
Snow can make the ugliest place beautiful. It can cover what is broken and lost. And when it blankets the land, things seem new again and clean.
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And so, Alayne falls silent and thoughtful on her end of the line. The conversation stretches into silence, but eventually, the answer comes. ]
Snow.
In the trees and on the ground, freshly fallen and still soft underfoot.
Snow caught on my lashes and in others' hair.
Snow on my tongue, bright white and crisp.
Snow can make the ugliest place beautiful.
It can cover what is broken and lost.
And when it blankets the land, things seem new again and clean.
Yes, Sirius Black, my answer is snow.