Interlude DXCIII: A Day for Snow and Secrets
A Day for Snow and Secrets
Thirty-First Day of the Tenth Month 293 AC
The snow was soft and powdery in Sansa's hands. I'd have a better luck trying to roll up flour into a ball and toss it, the girl thought. Being out in the sun after days of dreary sleet that turned to snow may just be the best Nameday present. Mother had wanted to keep her inside today too for fear she would catch a cold or other fears no one would talk about around her. The girl shook her head, red curls flying wildly. "Jon, how are you getting the snow to stick?" she asked. Well... it may have been a bit more of a whine, but he did not seem to mind exactly. He actually looked startled and a little guilty... oh...
"Did you use magic to make the snow stick?" she whispered. Jon was not allowed to use magic around her, no one was really, not even Ser Halys. Unless there's danger, Sansa remembered her lord father's words and shivered. As bad as it was not getting to see magic when Robb did all the time was she didn't want to see it that way. "Don't worry, I won't tell," the girl added, then she remembered she was seven now, old enough to confess her sins. "Unless Septa Mordane asks me about lying. I can't lie under holy oath..."
Thankfully the headaches of newly celebrated seven years were soon blown from Sansa's mind by Robb taking another approach to the snow, namely grabbing a handful of it an dropping it down her collar. "Robb!" she screamed in a voice her father had once told her could cut ice, which was surely a good thing, a strong and commanding voice.
Without another thought she held out her hand to Jon, took the magicked snowball and let it fly, catching her brother right in the chin as he was laughing. Doing her best to sound demure and not merely smug the girl added: "I'm sorry, did that taste bad? It's only snow, right?"
Arya took the moment to tackle Robb's legs and topple him into the snow, leaving him sputtering then laughing again. However much the world may have changed, however strange its rules had gotten, this much at least was unchanged.
***
"Mother, who are you writing to?" Sansa asked carefully. She had finished her work and laid it out on the table ages ago, but mother had not looked up to check the penmanship yet.
"Lady Leticia Royce," came the terse reply, pen still scratching at the parchment. She wasn't supposed to hold it like that, Sansa knew, but she did not correct it. Her mother looked upset about something, something big and heavy, not for little girls' heads even if they were seven no doubt. Sometimes Sansa wished she was more like Arya, talking to beasts and all, or even better more like Robb so she would actually be told things.
"Why?" the girl pressed through without much hope of an answer.
To her surprise however her mother just looked up at her for a long moment. Were the shadows under her eyes darker than they had been before? Were her eyes red?
"We are considering, your father and I that is..." Taking a keep breath Sansa's mother added, "Would you like to be fostered, sweetling? The Vale is very pretty and the people there are nice, just ask your father."
Sansa was so surprised she blurted out the first thought that came to mind: "But mother, who's going to take care of you?"
Lady Catelyn opened her mouth like she wasn't sure what to say, then she reached out and hugged Sansa close. "Sweetling, it's not your job to take care of me. Things have been happening, difficult things, but we will sort them out, I promise. You just think about whether you want to go to the Vale."
"Should it really be just about what I want?" The girl could feel the hot pinpricks of tears in her eyes and she hated them. "Fostering is important for House Stark. It should be for you and father to decide as..." She couldn't get out all the words past the lump in her throat. She did not want to go.
"Shhh..." her mother whispered holding her close. "It's not so important that we are not going to ask you, and we are going to listen Sansa. We are always going to listen. "
Sansa Stark took comfort in the words, though she could not help but wish they would talk to her as well as listen.
OOC: Well, that was an unusual set of background rolls.
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