[Closed to Beverly, Bran and Sansa] [Lord Stark has taught Robb a lot of things but cooking has never been one of them. Very well, he had to do the dishes once or twice to help the kitchenmaids. But cooking, Robb fears he could even ruin something simple like an egg.
He reads the recipes carefully, brows furrowing a little. The slicing and dicing is something he could do. But the tablespoons of this and gallons of that and a dash of this... His eyes flash from his brother's face to that of Beverly and his sister.]
What if Bran and I do all the cutting and you two ladies prepare the mixtures?
[It is a careful proposal and he glances at Bran to see if he agrees with it as well.]
[Open, Option A] [Robb is sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. There's a plate of food next to him. Some meat and vegetables with a lot of gravy. It is a shame they do not have any strongwine or a nice, sweet red with clover. He uses a large chunk of bread to dip into the gravy before he starts to chew on it in a long and thoughtful way.
He is still thinking about home, about Westeros and the war that is raging there. To be fair, he is thinking more about it than he likes to admit. This is not a forever for him. This is just some ridiculous turn his life took, a break from it all, so to speak. People who pass him get a friendly nod and if they have a question he will answer politely.]
[Open, Option B] [When everything has passed and some return to their chambers all full Robb busies himself with the dishes. There is no shame in doing them and trying to scrub all the filth of all the plates is a pleasant distraction.]
Worry not, I will take that.
[Kings do not mind dishes. After all, he is no king here, is it not?]
Robb Stark / OTA
[Lord Stark has taught Robb a lot of things but cooking has never been one of them. Very well, he had to do the dishes once or twice to help the kitchenmaids. But cooking, Robb fears he could even ruin something simple like an egg.
He reads the recipes carefully, brows furrowing a little. The slicing and dicing is something he could do. But the tablespoons of this and gallons of that and a dash of this... His eyes flash from his brother's face to that of Beverly and his sister.]
What if Bran and I do all the cutting and you two ladies prepare the mixtures?
[It is a careful proposal and he glances at Bran to see if he agrees with it as well.]
[Open, Option A]
[Robb is sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. There's a plate of food next to him. Some meat and vegetables with a lot of gravy. It is a shame they do not have any strongwine or a nice, sweet red with clover. He uses a large chunk of bread to dip into the gravy before he starts to chew on it in a long and thoughtful way.
He is still thinking about home, about Westeros and the war that is raging there. To be fair, he is thinking more about it than he likes to admit. This is not a forever for him. This is just some ridiculous turn his life took, a break from it all, so to speak. People who pass him get a friendly nod and if they have a question he will answer politely.]
[Open, Option B]
[When everything has passed and some return to their chambers all full Robb busies himself with the dishes. There is no shame in doing them and trying to scrub all the filth of all the plates is a pleasant distraction.]
Worry not, I will take that.
[Kings do not mind dishes. After all, he is no king here, is it not?]