faderift | the start of something new

WHO: Sansa Stark
WHAT: Sansa learns about the changing of the years in Thedas; Sansa works on her sewing.
WHEN: 1 - 8 Wintermarch
WHERE: around Skyhold
NOTES: A general catch-all for Sansa to start out the new year.

i. the changing of the year.

Sansa has slowly been learning how life in Thedas works since arriving through the rift two moons prior and one of the things she's learned about this month, actually, is that they celebrate the change of the year in Thedas with a holiday called First Day. It's a simple thing to celebrate, really, and somewhat arbitrary but Sansa likes the idea of visiting others throughout Skyhold and drinking with them, breaking bread with them and generally making their acquaintance.

She's been terrible at making acquaintances since coming here, after all, and so First Day and the days after give her a chance to work in the kitchens and make simple little cakes to pass along to others. It's nothing taxing, certainly not for her since she isn't much of a cook, but it is a kindness that she wants to bestow upon those who have made her feel welcome since coming to Thedas and she wants to demonstrate she has an interest in learning how their world and celebrations do work.

ii. slip a stitch into something new.

In the afternoons, Sansa likes to work on needlework. It's become a way to make a bit of coin while she stays in Thedas and she's always loved her embroidery besides so making clothes and mending cloaks has become a way to earn money and pass the time. It reminds her of long, cold days at Winterfell when she'd sit by the fire with her mother and the septa, learning how to make her stitches small and neat, and oftentimes she dreamed of mending things for her lord husband someday. It's a mundane dream but, funnily enough, one afternoon it occurs to her that she's done that very thing and sometimes she smiles to herself or laughs just a bit.

Yes, the shirts are much smaller than she expected of a lord husband and often they are in shades of Lannister red and gold but she doesn't care about that. Here in Thedas nobody cares about Lions or Direwolves or Stags and when she draws her needle in and out of her mending, it's a soothing and calming activity that she doesn't have to worry about. No one cares about the subject of her embroidery now and she's free to do whatever she likes. The freedom is exhilarating.

iii. the frost falls upon the ground.

When the weather is clear enough, Sansa takes the chance to walk around outdoors. It's cold still, even to someone with Northern blood like hers, and the ice is still evident upon the grounds. Sometimes there's ruts from horses or wagons, crusted over with mud and ice and Sansa is careful to keep her skirts clear of them; she still doesn't like to be dirty even if she's much less squeamish about it than she was as a child in Westeros.

When a bit of ice falls from the edge of a roof, she dodges it carefully and when snow slides into the back of her cloak after shifting off the eaves of Skyhold proper, she squeals in surprise but it doesn't drive her indoors. The winter sunlight is weak and thin but she soaks up as much of it as she can and when snowflakes alight on her cheeks, she often pushes back her hood so that they can catch in the shimmering auburn of her hair.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Waver nodded. He did, although he was mostly used to the battlefield being the halls of the university rather than a proper battlefield - save the Grail War.

"I do. I apologize if I brought up bad memories."

"No, not at all. It is simply my life, for good or for ill, and speaking about it doesn't upset me," she assures him.

"Granted, it's a topic I wouldn't prefer to speak on overly much, if I can help it, but mentioning it doesn't upset me terribly."

"Then I'm happy to move on," Waver said, pausing to sniff the air. "And maybe suggest checking the oven?"

"Ah, yes, the oven," Sansa says, quickly heading over to pull out the latest batch of cakes. She burns her wrist a little as she pulls out the pan and purses her lips.

"Ouch! It's still hot, naturally. Let me get some cool water to run over this burn, all right?"

"Permit me to make myself useful and get it for you."

It was the least that could be done after monopolizing her time.

"Oh, if you wish. I wouldn't want to put you out, though," Sansa says, biting her lip a bit.

"But I won't deny the help."

"Give me a second then."

Really, it wasn't as if it took too long. Running around in a lab like setting was one of Waver's strengths. A kitchen was just a labratory for food, and moments later, he returned with an entire bowl of cold water, plus a damp cloth that was ice cold. Both items went down on the counter.

"I figure you can keep the cloth on your person when you need to make use of it."

"Thank you," Sansa says. "You have been most helpful, actually, so I could not have asked for more." She takes the cloth and dabs it on the wound. The cool water helps quite a bit.

"Oh, I hope I don't need to see a healer."

Waver leaned over just a little from where he stood, not wanting to invade Sansa's personal space but curious as to the size of the burn.

"Something like that probably would take care of itself on its own. A healer probably would just help it go away quicker, I suspect."

"I'm sure there's an herb or something I can use to make a poultice. I would like to learn to heal," Sansa admits, "Though I don't know if I can without magic."

And magic isn't a thing in Westeros, at all, so Sansa doubts she'd be able to learn the craft here.

"As far as I've come to understand it, medicine here is just as much a science as a branch of magic," Waver said, thinking carefully. Back home there were herbals and folk medicines along with the actual science of it all, plus healing magecraft. "I'd see no reason not to seek an apprenticeship on the topic."

"Perhaps I can ask a mage if they are willing to help me learn," Sansa says, the idea taking a bit of root in her mind and refusing to let go. That was how all good ideas took place, yes?

"I'm certain my husband won't mind if I pick something up to occupy my days other than mending and baking."

"Perhaps an apothecary if no one is willing to take on an apprentice." He could hear the hint of interest. Waver just wanted to make sure that there might be additional paths if one was closed off.

"Oh, I should ask around," Sansa says. "I might be able to learn something from an apothecary. That's not much different than the maesters back home."

"One would hope that you'd learn something from one, if they're doing their job." He can't help the hint of critique at the hypothetical apothecary. But it is all he'll say, and Waver realizes that among other things, he had things to do.

"I've monopolized enough of your time though, when you've got far more important things to focus on. I should get going."

"Oh, of course. Still, you won't be a stranger, will you?" Sansa hopes not. Most of the people she's met here in Thedas have been kind and she wants to cast a wide net, have a wide circle of friends.

"Not at all," Waver said, making it clear that this was a promise. "And come find me if you get someone to take you on as an apprentice, please."

the start of something new

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