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.

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Just hearing it causes a warm feeling to suffuse every part of her body from head to toe and Sansa leans in and kisses him almost without thinking, lips touching his softly. It's impulsive, the kiss, but it's no less sincere for that.

"Not that you would have to worry about this, as I want no man, but I am faithful to you, Tyrion. If I choose...someday...you will be my choice. No one else. You'll father my children."

This will now be the moment where Tyrion Lannister is now left speechless for a moment, and he is not going to respond to said kiss, except to gape at her for a moment.

"I. Ah. Well." He gives her a quizzical smile. "Thank you?"

"You're not pleased?" Sansa asks, a little confused by his reaction. Perhaps she's simply surprised him, is all, and he's still processing. It's possible. She's a different woman than she'd been in King's Landing and time makes things different and seem more clear. Her relationship with Tyrion is one of those things.

"I thought you did want children someday, at least."

"I ... " He paused for a moment, before his smile became more lopsided, blue eyes warming slightly. He took her hand back in his, looking up at her. "I am confused. I mean - I am honored, beyond words ... but I am not entirely certain what that means. So we are friends - we are married - and one day we will have children. But what of love, Sansa?"

"Who could love me?" Sansa asks, her face pale and drawn. She hadn't meant to hurt him, though, and she fears she has by choosing her words poorly. She doesn't want to hurt him. He's kind to her.

"What he did in my body..." she shakes her head a bit. "I know I said I wouldn't speak of him and I don't want to but no one could love me after what he did. Every inch of my body is covered in what he did to me. The only person I could love is you because you're the only person I can trust. You're the only one left besides my family who never hurt me."

"... Ah, Sansa." He reached up with his free hand, and touched her cheek, tilting her chin so she was looking at him. "Scars fade, bruises heal, and at the end of the day -- it is still a beautiful body - warm, vibrant, soft to the touch and something any man would be lucky to be granted -- if you grant it to him. Your heart, however, would be the true prize."

He smirked, faintly, "And you insult my intelligence, if you do not think me smart enough to realize it." Which was, in so many words, how he said that he could love her.

"You're the most clever man I've ever known," Sansa says, narrowing her eyes at him before letting out a quick little laugh. "The most clever man in Westeros or Thedas. I think you have a blind spot when it comes to your wife, though."

She leans in a bit, sharing his space. As his friend, she's allowed to do that, isn't she? Sansa hasn't had a true marriage, really, and she's learning as she goes along.

"Would you mind if we held hands from time to time, Tyrion?"

"We shall see if the latter is the case. As for the blind spot - one is always more vulnerable around someone they truly care for." He leans against her in kind, folding both of his hands around hers.

"I would not mind at all, Sansa."

Sansa closes her eyes and smiles happily, color rising in her cheeks once more. "I think we should retire for the evening," she says softly. "And I think you should tell me about what you did today while we hold hands. Does that sound acceptable to you, Tyrion?"

Because it sounds a little bit like heaven to her.

He crooked a smile at her, before he released her hand so he could gather up her books for her, "I think that sounds very accpetable, Sansa. Shall we go?"

Edited 2016-10-30 02:50 (UTC)

Sansa gives him a bright smiles and nods quickly. "Oh, oh yes. We should certainly go to bed now. I am eager to hold my husband's hand for the evening."

He held her hand in his, giving her a gently chiding look. "But we are going to eat as well, correct?"

"Naturally," Sansa says. "We won't want me fading away, after all, especially considering that we're in a new place together and have more time to get to know one another."

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