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» 2nd lemoncake

Who: Sansa Stark and anyone.
Broadcast: Video. Fleetwide.
Action: Find her on the Blue Fish, if you like.
When: Midday.

[ by all accounts, sansa stark has survived. she now lives on an armoured ship. her brothers are nearby -- alongside one brother's devoted friends, who have all been more kind to her kin than she can put to words. although nothing so much as approaches normal, she's beginning to feel settled. stability creeps in from the corners.

and this allows her to ask a question of her fleetmates: ] Is there any means by which I might find spare cloth and thread? And needles, too, of course. The ships give us so much, but I'm not certain -- [ not certain they can give me these. she does not understand their magic, nor the purchasing power of her device. ]

I like to embroider. I should like to do it again, if I could. [ but without a handmaiden to bid fetch these things, she doesn't know how to begin. perhaps it's as simple as looking in the correct spot -- but she was never raised to procure or purchase anything in her life. ]

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I do not often leave the ship. [ she admits, and even then: ] And when I do, I've no gold to spend.

[ this is hard for her to say. even while masquerading as a petyr's bastard daughter, she did not want for comforts. ]

I see.

[She can't imagine just staying inside one of these ships all the time--even with family to catch up with, it must be stultifying. Arslae doesn't exactly have the feel of a Core world, but at least there are things to do.

Suddenly, finding Sansa a needle and thread seems like the least Leia can do. If The Vision was right, they aren't going to be here much longer, and then this girl is going to be stuck indoors with nothing to do.]

Why don't we go and find you an embroidery kit? They've got to have something planetside.

[It might be made of salt, of course, but it'll be something.]

[ -- the offer is kind. charitable, even. she can feel it stirring some manner of gratitude beneath her rib-cage. but leia remains a stranger, for all intents and purposes. and she's not certain she can justify accompanying her to the planet's surface.

carefully: ] Perhaps you might join me for tea, instead.

[ i don't know you. ]

[For a moment, she thinks Sansa might agree--but then there's the counter-offer, and that's that.

Leia can't really blame her; she's pretty clearly skittish about something, and if that includes the possibility of leaving her ship, so be it.]

I'd like that. [And there's nothing that says she can't stop on Arslae for a look around beforehand.] When would you like to have tea?

[ she can feel the back-slide. regression. to ask, boldly, for a favour of the whole fleet only to balk just as it might be fulfilled. silently, she curses herself. stupid girl. ]

Are you free before supper-time? Today, mayhaps? [ ... ] Or tomorrow, if it would suit you better.

[ she does not want to seem too demanding in her schedule. ]

Today before suppertime sounds great.

[Sansa seems like the kind of person who needs those kinds of basic reassurances--and the timing works well enough. Plenty of time to take a look around for some sewing things, and really, what else is she going to do today?]

I'll see you in a few hours.

A few hours, my l-- [ she swallows. ] Leia Organa.

[ and hours pass. it's childish, truly, to feel so worked up about a simple guest. it isn't that sansa is friendless: there is nyssa, and there is james potter, and she welcomes their company whenever it comes her way. but each new acquaintance is like climbing a fresh mountain.

so she buries her anxiety in preparations. a fine strong pot of tea (it took her days to understand all these 'lectric devices) and what's left of the last baklava nyssa had brought over for their afternoon visits. when guests come, it's terribly important to give them food and drink. if the blue fish is to be her home, now, then she will provide the guest right.

she doesn't think to meet leia at the cargo hold. instead, she waits in the kitchen. her fingers tremble. ]

[Leia's already-small knowledge of needlework withered away soon after she was released from Madame Vesta's tutelage, and at this point, she knows she's not the best person to pick out these things. There are a dozen different needles to choose from, as many different threads, and all this fabric--! She finds some plain muslin and a few shades of thread, a packet of needles in varying sizes, and hopes that they'll suit the girl's tastes.

When the afternoon is drawing low, she goes to the Blue Fish, her paper-wrapped finds held in both hands. There's a smooth grace and poise in her walk as she comes to the galley--vestiges of Madame Vesta that have survived the test of time--and spots the girl she's looking for.]

Sansa, right? This is for you.

[ it isn't so strange for a guest to come bearing gifts -- but the sight of a paper-wrapped package still sends a particular kind of dread through sansa's limbs. she worries that her paltry hosting capabilities will not match the generosity of her guest, but must wear her bravest face besides.

she holds out patient hands -- unwilling to grab the package from its gifter, but waits for it to be handed. ]

Welcome to the Blue Flish.

[Leia sets the package in Sansa's hands, once it becomes clear she won't reach for it herself. There's the air of highborn training about her, something Leia recognizes from her own youth, though she can't pin it down beyond a general manner.

Maybe being a little tentative is a side effect, but she's really not sure. Her own demeanor shifts slightly in return, back towards a sort of propriety that wasn't much needed on Endor and hasn't been much use here in the Fleet.]

Thank you. It's a very nice ship. [A pause. She suspects she might be in charge of carrying this conversation.] Have you lived here long?

[ she takes the package in gentle hands. but -- but she doesn't tear at the paper. although a butterfly in her heart urges her to rip it open like a little child getting a gift. she must be better than that stupid girl cowering still inside her. sansa smiles. ]

Not long. Not long at all. Only -- I was on the Huntress before this. You see, my brothers are here. Now, I get to share their ship.

[ she'd already expressed her delight at the reunion. of course, she'd transfer from one ship to another just so they could be together.

sansa steps aside. ] Please, take a seat. And I'll pour your tea, my -- Leia.

That must be nice--having your brothers at hand. Mine is on the Red Fish.

[A show of commonality, in hopes that it might set the girl at ease.]

Thank you. [She bites back a smile as she sits down, hands folded neatly in her lap. My Leia.] You come from a place where titles are expected, don't you? I did, too.

[Go back far enough, and that was Alderaan all over--for her, at least.]

The daughters of Great Houses must be afforded their courtesies. [ it sounds almost humbled, but it's a knife that cuts both ways. she is a lady in her own right, and it (at times) wounds her to hear her name bandied about so casually by those who barely know her.

gingerly, she pours tea. ]

If you'd be more comfortable with titles...which one do you usually take?

[Leia would really prefer not to bother, but Sansa seems uncomfortable with such casual ways. If they'd set her at ease, she can put up with being my lady or your Highness.

It's not like she hasn't before.]

Lady. [ a stiff smile. ] But I would not want to make you uncomfortable in turn.

I survived years of being called "Your Highness." If you'd prefer to call me "my lady," it's not a problem.

[...Please don't call her Your Highness, Sansa. Leia takes a sip of her tea.]

This is very nice, Lady Stark. I'll have to see if we have any on the Windrose.

[ her attention narrows. your highness is not the same as your grace, but it's near enough to make her jaw tighten. sansa wonders, then, if this woman is more than mere nobility. and if so, that might explain how loose and free leia is with rules of propriety. she may have been afforded every opportunity to break then, as power often does.

after leia's first sip, sansa nearly kicks herself for forgetting the honey or the sugar. mayhaps she won't mind. mayhaps she won't say anything. ]

You could do. It depends, I think, on how advanced your kitchen has become. The kind souls on the Blue Fish have put a lot of effort into theirs.

[The tea isn't her preferred blend, but since that no longer exists in any meaningful sense, Leia has no complaints. The slight bitterness is refreshing, in its way.]

The Windrose's galley does its job, but it's nothing on what you have here. [Upgrades? Pfft.] You're very fortunate.

[But there's only so much she can say about kitchens. She slips into formalities--not gladly, exactly, but relatively easily.] Where is it you come from, my lady? I don't think I'm familiar with your Great Houses.

Westeros.

[ she has found it helpful to be vague. few people here know winterfell. so she can name the whole seven kingdoms and satisfy those who are too curious about her past. Great houses are among some of the oldest families in the kingdoms. Each were once kings in their own right before they bent the knee to the Iron Throne.

Ah.

[Sansa's own origins are a minor curiosity, but mostly, Leia's looking for ways to make conversation. Speaking of home can be painful--she knows it more than most--but it's somewhere to start. And if it proves unsuccessful, they can try another subject.]

What is it like? I haven't visited.

Different.

[ she squirms where she sits. how can she explain seven kingdoms? too often, everyone else in these ships is accustomed to grander things. wider worlds, with wider opportunities. she doesn't know how to describe her home without complaint. ]

We're not even a whole planet. We're a -- a continent. Seven Kingdoms, united under one crown. Or we were.

This must have been a big change for you.

[Sansa has the good fortune of being one of several people Leia's met without access to the world beyond her planet. It's no longer a surprise, just something a little sad-sounding to her.]

And you were from one of those seven kingdoms?

[ she nods. here, on the blue fish, she feels ever so slightly empowered to talk of home. ]

The North. The last large stretch of land in Westeros before the Wall. [ ... ] Its seat is an old castle, called Winterfell. I lived there for most my life.

That's an evocative name--Winterfell.

[She can imagine it, aside from the part where she can't--Alderaanian ruins probably don't carry quite the right silhouette for Sansa's world.]

I suppose it was cold there.

Outside? Certainly. [ and here's where a point of familial pride strikes the surface. her eyes are bright. ] But the Winter Kings of years before built their seat above hot springs, my lady. It warmed our whole castle.

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