(no subject)

[sansa-stark.livejournal.com]

Sansa has written notes, with quill and ink instead of pen – to help her start thinking of home. "Bar," she asks of, obviously, Bar, "Will you please deliver these to their intended recipients?" She puts them down, and they disappear. Sansa blinks, but then smiles.


Dear Annie,

We never did get to bake bread, did we? I am most sorry about that. Perhaps one day I shall be back and tell you how it is done in Westeros!

For my door is here, and I must leave. I wish Phillipa and her husband all the joy and happiness in the world. I wish you and your husband the same, too. It has been ever such a pleasure to know you, lady Annie – forgive the title, but to my mind if anyone deserves to be called such, it is yourself.

Enclosed is a poem dedicated to your daughter and grandchild. I hope my clumsy verse affords you some measure of enjoyment.

Sincerely,
Sansa Stark


Dear Plourr,

My door is here! I can go home! Thank you so much for being patient with a young girl who did not know what space was.

I am most glad, that for all that you have been through, that you have found happiness. It gives me hope. I sorely needed it. I shall look at the stars and think of you flying through them. I hope you do so often.

Your friend from the backwards world,
Sansa Stark


Dear Mary,

My door is here and I must leave. I shall always remember the garden with fondness – and I shall remember you with much more! You are truly a remarkable young lady. Remember, dear, you did promise to use the slingshot properly.

Sincerely,
Sansa Stark


Tyrion,

If this note finds you, I did not. I waited by the door as long as I thought I could. My door is here. I am leaving. I should tell you good-bye, and here it is.

There is more that needs to be said, perhaps, but I cannot write it down. So farewell, Tyrion. May your days be May you be Keep safe. And thank you for your kindness.

Sansa


That done, she waits by the bar for the one farewell she dreads. But, despite what she wrote to Tyrion, she won’t wait for him that long. Sansa is a bit of a liar.

She’ll soon vanish through the door, into a cold, dark stone hallway, gasping as her clothes change to a dress of blue lambswool....

Then the Door shuts.

Comments

[fighting_mad]

The next time Plourr goes to Bar, the note appears with her mug of caf. She recognizes Sansa's handwriting, the strange lettering, and she asks for an Aurebesh translation from Bar.

She reads it several times, smoothing the paper with her thumb. Her (serious) expression doesn't change, but she can't help thinking that it all sounds awfully ... final. Like a goodbye for good.

After the third reread, she stuffs the note into her pocket, and she quietly leaves the caf behind and goes home.