✧ qυєєи ѕαиѕα ѕтαяк σf ωιитєяfєℓℓ ✧ (
stonebird) wrote in
hadriel_logs2017-11-11 10:27 pm
Entry tags:
(Open!)
Who: Sansa Stark & Open!
What: Celebrating Winter because she's a Stark.
Where: Around the Elf houses for the first prompt and around the city for the second.
When: Right now. This is happening.
Warnings: Forced optimism? It's the only sort of optimism that grows in the caverns.
(Let your hearts be merry~)
There are flames dancing merrily in the fireplaces of both Elven houses. Delicious scents are wafting from the kitchens - a sign of treats baking - and Sansa is rearranging the houses, adding what decor she has found and cleaning anything that seems to need it. She hums happy songs under her breath, lost in memories that have nothing to do with the cold stone of the caverns.
Mentally, she is in Winterfell, encouraging her brothers to dance, partaking of a feast and showing any guests one of the dresses she had made. She used to love preening and receiving compliments. Just like a silly little bird.
Lifting a festive wreathe, she hangs it over the fireplace with some difficulty. Her cheeks are flushed as she steps back to ensure the decoration is straight. She doubts very much she will ever see Winterfell again. Or Ruby City for that matter. Those are homes of her past. She must keep moving forward and not long for what is out of her reach. Therein lies the real reason she is decorating.
For Mother and Father; for Robb, Bran, Rickon and Jon; for Arya; for Lady, Lord, Jonquil and Ann; for Maedhros, Fingon, Maglor, Elrond, Celebrían, Erestor and Ciel. My home resides in my heart and my memories. No one can take those from me.
Dusting off her hands, Sansa walks to the kitchen to keep an eye on her cookies. She can't let her family eat anything burnt!
(Find your joy~)
She is a curious sight on the streets of Hadriel. Her dress is made of a thicker material than she would usually wear - in order to keep her warm - and it features some floral embroidery (of her own design). She is singing too, her voice as light and pretty as a bird's, but occasionally she misses a lyric.
It has been a long time since she saw Westeros, so maybe she can be forgiven?
She pauses at each store, gathering items that please her for the homes she wishes to decorate. When weather turns cold, the houses must be all the warmer and more inviting. However some of the Christmas themed merchandise brings her to a pause.
Red and green? It's not as if they aren't lovely colors, but why do they, in particular, represent this time of year?
"What of white and silver? The deepest blue reminds me of a winter storm too." but not red and green. Sansa puzzles over the choice for a moment longer before choosing a green candle from the bunch.
"I fear I will never understand all of these religions." nor does she particularly care to share them. The gods have done her precious little good, though she is not wanting or complaining any longer. Perhaps her current contentment proves that she is not fit for her world and she belongs in another entirely. The idea is not so fantastic and frightening as it once would have been.
What: Celebrating Winter because she's a Stark.
Where: Around the Elf houses for the first prompt and around the city for the second.
When: Right now. This is happening.
Warnings: Forced optimism? It's the only sort of optimism that grows in the caverns.
There are flames dancing merrily in the fireplaces of both Elven houses. Delicious scents are wafting from the kitchens - a sign of treats baking - and Sansa is rearranging the houses, adding what decor she has found and cleaning anything that seems to need it. She hums happy songs under her breath, lost in memories that have nothing to do with the cold stone of the caverns.
Mentally, she is in Winterfell, encouraging her brothers to dance, partaking of a feast and showing any guests one of the dresses she had made. She used to love preening and receiving compliments. Just like a silly little bird.
Lifting a festive wreathe, she hangs it over the fireplace with some difficulty. Her cheeks are flushed as she steps back to ensure the decoration is straight. She doubts very much she will ever see Winterfell again. Or Ruby City for that matter. Those are homes of her past. She must keep moving forward and not long for what is out of her reach. Therein lies the real reason she is decorating.
For Mother and Father; for Robb, Bran, Rickon and Jon; for Arya; for Lady, Lord, Jonquil and Ann; for Maedhros, Fingon, Maglor, Elrond, Celebrían, Erestor and Ciel. My home resides in my heart and my memories. No one can take those from me.
Dusting off her hands, Sansa walks to the kitchen to keep an eye on her cookies. She can't let her family eat anything burnt!
She is a curious sight on the streets of Hadriel. Her dress is made of a thicker material than she would usually wear - in order to keep her warm - and it features some floral embroidery (of her own design). She is singing too, her voice as light and pretty as a bird's, but occasionally she misses a lyric.
It has been a long time since she saw Westeros, so maybe she can be forgiven?
She pauses at each store, gathering items that please her for the homes she wishes to decorate. When weather turns cold, the houses must be all the warmer and more inviting. However some of the Christmas themed merchandise brings her to a pause.
Red and green? It's not as if they aren't lovely colors, but why do they, in particular, represent this time of year?
"What of white and silver? The deepest blue reminds me of a winter storm too." but not red and green. Sansa puzzles over the choice for a moment longer before choosing a green candle from the bunch.
"I fear I will never understand all of these religions." nor does she particularly care to share them. The gods have done her precious little good, though she is not wanting or complaining any longer. Perhaps her current contentment proves that she is not fit for her world and she belongs in another entirely. The idea is not so fantastic and frightening as it once would have been.

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