(no subject)

[sansa-stark.livejournal.com]

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.

Comments

[sansa-stark.livejournal.com]

"Oh, no, I couldn't ask any favours of you," Sansa says hastily. With a sad smile, "Some things I must learn on my own."

She looks at the Door, worry clouding her face. "And learn quickly," she adds, sotto voce.

"Thank you so much for your words, Gwendolyn. If I may ever return the favour," and if I ever come back here again, "you have but to ask and I will aid you in any way I can."

[burned-them-all.livejournal.com]

Gwen smiles, silently wishing her luck again, and takes her leave. She's got some reading to do,

and all of this has made her think. She needs to go back and face things in her world one of these days.