Watching from above

"Bring me his head!" Shouted Joffrey and Ned watched as Sansa raised her hands to her mouth in shock, her pretty face contorting in horror. He looked over to see Arya, his youngest daughter clinging to a large column, her dirty fingers digging into the stone work as her dark eyes welled with tears. He felt like shouting out to them, perhaps letting the truth about the Lannisters out before the sword sliced through his skin, but his mouth felt dryer than the red waste, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

He felt the sword tap him once, marking a spot on his neck, he looked up, noticing that Arya was gone, he saw her head pressed to the chest of a man, Yoren. Good, he would keep her safe. He saw Sansa flinch and look away. He heard the sword whistle through the air, he could feel it coming down, closer and closer. He said a prayer to the Gods. He felt a sharp pain, his stomach clenched as the sword cut. He felt nothing.