faderift | seeking knowledge [open]

WHO: Sansa Stark
WHAT: Settling in
WHEN: 11 Harvestmere - the end of the month
WHERE: Around Skyhold
NOTES: Feel free to find her around in another place that her log text doesn't mention, just let me know. Some implied mention of abuse/sexual assault in the Tyrion-Sansa thread but nothing explicit.

Sansa has settled into this place, so much as one can settle into a place where she's dropped from the sky. It's not a terrible one, really, and once she'd been brought to the keep called Skyhold, she'd felt a little better about things. She spends quite a lot of time in the keep. There's great libraries full of books and papers and letters and all of them have information about the place she's landed herself in; Sansa spends most of her days educating herself on the place she's wound up and reads for hours and hours until her eyes are tired and the candles have burned low.

The nights are a bit different. She has stuck close to Lord Tyrion since he's the only person she knows from Westeros, and they have found lodging close to one another. It makes her feel a bit safer, all told, and she just wants to keep close to him for the time being. If he minds it, he hasn't said anything to her, and she's happy to go on as they have.

Currently, she's curled up in a chair in one corner of the keep, one of the journals in her hands. She's trying to learn all about the politics of this place but the names and places keep running together and she doesn't know if she'll ever keep them straight. She wants, desperately, to learn them so she feels like she has a purpose but she knows it won't happen in just a few weeks or even a few moons.

"You have to be patient, Sansa," she mutters, diving back into her work.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sansa won't remain alone in the library for very long. A woman in a sweeping red dress and fur-lined cloak stops not far from her, observing her frustrated attempts at study. The smell of baked goods wafts from her direction.

"Well hello there."

New faces are common, but that doesn't mean one shouldn't introduce themselves when they can. Mia happened to be passing by with a basket of food under one arm. It's always something of that nature, food, herbs, healing supplies, whatever needs ferrying from one side of the keep to the other.

But she goes at her own pace, keeping in mind the faces of their fight as much as the bigger picture. They are, after all, the reason they fight.

When the woman greets her, Sansa lifts her head and is struck by the scent of baked goods. She is quite hungry after having been in the library all day but she doesn't think she ought to beg for food when she's only just met someone. Instead, she smiles a bit and says hello in return.

"Hello. Am I in your way or anything, my lady?"

"No, not at all." Her brow raises and she shakes her head briefly. "And I hope I haven't disturbed you. You're not having trouble, are you?"

There seems a vague air of frustration about the girl. No, perhaps not the right word. Weariness? No, perhaps not quite right either. Well it's certainly something, and Mia is not known for ignoring somethings. Or much of anything, really.

"You haven't disturbed me at all," Sansa promises. Her smile is a bit brighter now since she's been shaken from her reverie and her full attention is on the other woman.

"Forgive me, I haven't introduced myself. I am Sansa Stark," she offers. "I came here through one of the rifts?"

"A rifter?" She looks more at home here than some of the others, but not all worlds can be so vastly different, perhaps.

It hardly matters. Mia beams down at her and gives a polite little courtesy. "Mia Rutherford. It's a pleasure to meet you, Sansa. You must have only recently arrived, I don't recall seeing your face before now."

There's a moment's consideration before she moves the basket towards the table, carefully avoiding any of the books she's currently going through. "I don't suppose you've eaten, recently?" she queries with a light arch of her brow.

Sansa means to demure the question, to give some polite and ladylike response but her stomach answers for her in a decidedly unladylike growl. Oh. Well then.

"No, my lady, I have not eaten in quite a while. I lost track of time while I was reading."

Both eyebrows arch now.

"Proper manners, haven't you? Well there's no need titles, strictly speaking. I'm a common-born 'dog lord', like most Fereldens," Mia tuts, though it's more tease than reprimand. "'Mia' will do just fine. Though you may address me as you like. Now then, help yourself. I'm sure the books will still be there after you've had a honeycake or two."

And she gestures openly to the basket on the table in invitation. They were made to be shared, after all.

Sansa reaches out and takes a honeycake, delicately nibbling at it before voicing a very vocal appreciation for Mia's cooking talents. Cooking is not a talent that Sansa possesses in spite of spending hours in the kitchens at Winterfell in hopes of snatching a sweet or three.

"It's very good," she says, smiling wide. "Thank you, Mia, for your hospitality. You're too kind."

"I tend to have a few too many for just such occasions." While Sansa munches on the sticky treat, Mia draws her skirt around her and settles gracefully into a nearby seat without much fuss, waiting for her to eat her fill.

"My brother tends to be that way as well. Gets so busy he forgets to eat, or puts it off as long as he's able. You'll find a lot of stubborn sorts here in Skyhold, or at least I've found it to be the case."

"Is your brother also here in Skyhold?" Sansa asks, eating carefully. It's delicious, actually, and she has to help herself to another in spite of her desire to be a polite lady in all things.

"Or are you very far from home?"

"Both, actually."

As Sansa reaches for another honeycake, Mia waves her on. She's more than welcome to them. After all, Mia's only carrying them around in the hopes of foisting them onto some hungry soul or another.

"I don't suppose you'll see very much of Commander Rutherford. He tends to keep his attention steadily trained on the Inquisition's military forces. But he's a good man, fighting for a good cause. I thought I could do my part, here and there, rather than sit at home waiting for all this to pass us over."

seeking knowledge [open]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject