milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Sansa comes downstairs, in a long dress of black lambswool. A cloak is slung over one arm - someone's planning to go for a walk after breakfast.

She sits at Bar, orders some porridge and milk, and begins eating. As she eats, she watches the crowd. It's such habit that she doesn't notice anything new until her porridge is almost gone.

Sansa sees the Door.

A startled motion tips her glass of milk, which thunks against the bartop and spills its contents onto the floor.

"Oh." If she can speak, this means this isn't a dream. You can't speak the words you want to in dreams. "Oh."

The Door.

For a time, Sansa sits on her stool, motionless. Then she begins wiping away small, stray tears.

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Sansa remembers that Snowball does not believe in gods. Of course he would think they don't matter.

But she takes it in the spirit that it was meant. She wipes her eyes again. "With your wise words, I believe I shall find the strength." A watery smile follows.

"Have you found a path, comrade?" Sansa asks as she looks at Snowball, remembering their last conversation.

Snowball shakes his head.

"Clive told me to be a ninja to attract a mate. It didn't work."

...Well, this distracting enough to pull Sansa out of herself.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you just said," she confesses.

He shakes his head.

"I had been silly, don't worry about it."

A small sigh. "A rather sad attempt by a middle aged pig to find a partner."

"Perhaps you could ask a friend of yours to go to a farm in their land," Sansa says after a moment. "There might be a partner there for you - even if it's not in your world."

Light pause. "You...did mean a sow, did you not?"

He hesitates. But it's her.

"Or a boar, I'm not fussy, just lonely."

But boars are boys.

Sansa focuses on the second sentence. "If-- if you wished for a human partner, it would not be as difficult here."

She bites her lip, but plunges forward. This is a time to say what she really means. "You are rather comely as a human. Oh, as a pig, too! But, ah, it is a different sort of appeal."

"...I can't keep changing into a human. It's giving me memory loss and indigestion, and it mucks up my immune system. I'm just not designed for it."

A small sigh. "I wouldn't mind a human partner, but I don't think many humans would want a pig."

"Oh," Sansa murmurs. "I'm sorry."

She's much stronger on her next point, "Any woman who knew anything about the world would be lucky to have you by their side. Moving past appearances will certainly not be easy - but if you met someone who learned to look at you with her heart instead of her eyes--"

Sansa cuts off abruptly, feeling a little chill of something go down her spine.

He sighs.

"Your words are kind, comrade, but I don't see it happening. You are perhaps a little young for the types of words people use for such relationships."

A bit offended, "I'm a maiden flowered, if you please." This is Sansa's version of 'I'm not a kid'.

"I know perfectly well what people will call it. I've--" farce, mistake, joke, oh the laughter, proud Stark who didn't bend her knees to the Lannisters....

Her words soften. "But, think, if there ever were a place for it, it would be here."

She convinces herself that she's just talking about Snowball.

He looks at the floor.

"Apologies comrade. I was just feeling that my conversation may be becoming offensive."

Sansa looks away, thinking.

Then she turns back and shakes her head. "Life has not always been songs of chivalry with me - though I do pretend it has, because it suits me to act so.

"I shouldn't drop my mask and then snap at you as if you made me take it off. I apologize."

"You have plenty on your mind, and you are not at fault." he says softly.

And then, because his concentration is distracted and he is in a most unnatural position, falls off the barstool and lands on his bottom.

Sansa yelps, crouches down to offer him a hand, remembers that he doesn't have hands, stops, and so crouches looking at him worriedly.

"You don't have any splinters, do you?" she asks anxiously.

He tries to look at his bottom, and fails.

"I don't think so, I think I just lost balance."

He nuzzles her gently. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I will try," she answers after a moment. It's not perfect, but it's all she's got.

"And, please, Snowball, do try things even if it does not seem they will work. You see, I once answered a pig who spoke to me, even though that did not seem like a good idea at the time.

"Strange, wonderful things can happen here."

He chuckles.

"You have a point comrade."

More seriously.

"Do you think a human would ever accept me? Honestly?"

Sansa was bred to tell people what they want to hear. It's what a lady does.

So she says with absolute certainty and great fondness, "Yes. Snowball, if you give it time and nurturing, and if you find the right one - I very much do think it."

She's not lying. She's looking on the positive side, which is entirely different.

He nods, looking a little perkier.

"Thank you."

Then stays with her, just being there.

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