Starbies??? I'm A Basic Bitch I Need A Psl To Save Me From Sansa - Blog Posts
her mother had always said she was made for dancing. made for more than harsh winters with little sunlight. and in this moment, sansa looks every part the graceful lady, not a single curl out of place – each step taken in fluid movement that looked so effortless. perhaps, too, it did not hurt that she had every reason to want to look like such an imagine, that sansa, in her effortless state, had put in more effort than she can recall ever having cared for previously . . . for the sake of not looking the fool when it was his careful hands that spun her 'round the room.
her brows furrow momentarily, felt off guard by the idea that he had thought she wouldn't be kind to him – delicate fingers placed upon his shoulder as they step in time with one another, sansa's head shakes ever so slightly, just enough to relay her own momentary thoughts. “ . . . whatever whispers cregan has been telling you of me being unkind, i hope you know he is jesting and only spreading such unseemly words because i said he shouldn't have a third helping of desserts if he wished to continue to fit into last winter's breeches. ”
her cheeks flush along the apples at the admission, her relationship with her cousin ever more akin to that of a sibling – ever more apparent that he remained the only family she had left with her own brothers, who had never managed a kind or caring word of her, rotting away in the wolf's den along with her father. better not to think about who had put them there, even better to not consider why they were there at all. sansa wonders, momentarily, if it had been cregan saying such words to jacaerys at all – and if he had been, whether her name had often been a topic between them. and if it had, did that mean the prince might have considered her as often as she had him?
“ you are most deserving of kindness from all, don't you think? ” she asks, a gentle smile curled onto her lips. “ i think i would have to disagree with anyone who said differently, you have been nothing but kind in return to me, i – fear i will be most heartbroken when you leave. ”
Jacaerys blinked, startled by the question that pulled him from his thoughts. He hadn't meant to let the silence stretch so long between them, yet something in Sansa's quiet presence had drawn him inward. Jacaerys extended his hand, bridging the gap between them. Her hesitation was brief, her fingers slipping feather-light into his.
Her hand squeezed his lightly, a gesture meant to reassure, to tell him that her words had been in jest, that she wouldn’t have accepted if she hadn’t wanted to. He could feel the slight tension in her grip, the unspoken thoughts that swirled just beneath the surface.
Sansa, always poised, always graceful, but never without a careful guard around her heart. He wondered if she felt the same stirrings of uncertainty that had begun to grow in him, or if this, for her, was merely another polite moment, soon to be forgotten. At her question, though, his gaze softened. “Troubling?” He almost laughed but held it back, not wanting to misstep in this delicate exchange. “No, Lady Sansa. Nothing troubling. I just... hadn’t expected your kindness.” The words felt weightier than he'd intended, but he didn’t pull them back.