(no subject)
Sansa: Sansa added the last few stitches to the outside of the hat and examined it critically. She tugged firmly on the outside, then flipped the hat so the blue side showed, it seemed secure. All done then, she checked it once more for loose threads and she wished she had thought to measure Bran just to make sure it would fit. She eyed Robb thoughtfully, he didn't seem busy. She dropped the hat on his head and arranged it, it fitted him at least.
Robb: Robb looks up at her, mildly curious, when he's in the middle of minding his own business and she plops a hat onto his head. "...is that for me?"
Sansa: She adjusts it a little, "No, I'm using you as a model." She takes the hat off him, she hadn't really considered that Robb would want a sunhat. He's as fair skinned as her but a lot of the time he doesn't even wear a shirt.
Robb: Which are precisely the reasons he'd wondered what she was doing. "Who are you making it for? I think my head is bigger than Kialan's, at least a little."
Sansa: Sansa fusses with the stitching dismayed. Why would he thinks she was sewing a sunhat for Kialan, perhaps because of the party and the dancing. "Why would I make Kialan a sunhat," she said, scoffing just slightly in a sisterly way. She pauses, "he's got skin like a dornishman, he'll never burn." She changes the subject quickly. "I could make you a sunhat if you'd like," she offers as eyes the slight tan he has picked up. It suits him a way but it's makes him look different, less northern in a way.
Robb: "That's all right," Robb says, "I'm all right. Unless you get bored. I'll likely forget to wear it." He does run around with as little clothes on as possible these days, almost like Rickon. As for Kialan, he lets the issue be. He's still not quite in the position to discuss who Sansa might fancy.
Sansa: Sansa shakes her head, she did not think Robb would want a hat. "I'm not bored, I've Susan's present to work on." She looks at him, "and if you want me to make you something, I'd prefer it be something that you were going to wear." She stretches her fingers pointedly just because she likes sewing doesn't mean it isn't work.
Robb: Just because Robb likes building doesn't mean it isn't work, too! "I don't need anything at the moment," he promises. "So who is the hat for, then?"
Sansa: She looks at him and then puts the hat on her own head. It's too big for her and she tilts it up. "For a friend," she said, "don't be nosy Robb." She stands then. Part of her knows Robb wouldn't care that she's making Bran a hat, especially if he knew but it's not like he tells her anything unless he has too. She feels bad then she has said she forgives him and she does, she thinks, she's just not forgotten.
Robb: That's hardly fair--Robb tells her things, just not the particular thing she's supposedly forgiven him for. "I was just curious!" he protests.
Sansa: Sansa kisses him on the cheek, to show willing at least. "Allright then," she said, not answering the question on sheer stubborn principle now. "I'll see you later." She walks out of the clearing slowly she is curious to see if she'll get away with this.
Robb: Robb looks after her, bemused. "See you later," he says, shaking his head. It's not as if it won't be easy enough to see, later on, if someone is wearing a reversible hat.
Sansa: Sansa was quite pleased with that. She didn't suppose it would last long if Robb really wanted to know something. It certainly would not work with Father. Still as she made her way to the compound it was nice to know she could keep somethings to herself. She was taking a chance heading into the boys room without Lady but at least she'd met Bran's room mate now. She is about to call 'hello' to make sure he is decent when there is a bark of greeting and Lady pokes her nose round the curtain. "There you are."
Bran: Bran has his notebook on his knees, scribbling away with a rather dull pencil, Lady sprawled across the end of the bed. "I thought you'd be along."
Sansa: Sansa takes the hat from her own head and offers it, "this is for you, I was just testing it." She ruffles Lady's fur as she sits down next to Bran. "What are you writing?"
Bran: "Drawing, actually," Bran answers, pushing the notebook off to the side. "Nothing special. Oh!" He reaches up to take the hat, a smile breaking across his face at the red dragon on one side. "That's brilliant."
Sansa: Sansa smiles, drawing her knees up to chin, she's itching to look at his drawing now. "You can wear it either way," she said. "The other side is to match your coat." She looks at him, "now you have to model it so I can see what it looks like on."
Bran: It's on the blue side now, Bran pops it jauntily onto his head and grins at her. "Ridiculous?"
Sansa: She pouts at him, "I should have given you the one I found in the clothing box." That had been vomit coloured on one side and the brightest green Sansa had ever seen on the other, still it had been useful for the design. "It looks lovely," she said, "as if I would make you a ridiculous hat."
Bran: "I didn't mean the hat was ridiculous," Bran assures her, laughing. "The hat is brilliant. I only expect I look ridiculous in it."
Sansa: "Of course you don't," she said, "you look very handsome. The height of island fashion." She straightened the hat almost imperceptibly. "What were you drawing?"
Bran: "Well, thank you." Bran settles back against the pillow. "Just...things." He looks reluctant, but after a moment's thought offers it to her. "You can look through if you want."
Sansa: Sansa caught the look, "I didn't mean to pry," she said. She takes the book but holds it closed, "only if you are sure you don't mind?"
Bran: Bran nods. "It is all right," he promises. The notebook is full of scribblings, mostly, in a language that looks a bit as though someone just liked writing 'y' and 'w' a lot and didn't care much what they were saying. But there are pictures too; a lot of eyes, and fluttery sketches of Will, or Jake, or Ephram playing the piano.
Sansa: Sansa takes her time looking through the drawings Bran is really quite talented "That's a nice one of Will," she offers admiringly. she recognises Ephram as well and she does not want to ask who the other boy he's drawn is. She's fairly certain she knows and would not bring his name up.
Bran: "Diolch," Bran says, leaning against the wall, watching her flip through pages. "Keep going, you'll like those better." And if she does, she'll reach the finished one of Lady, sprawled on the sand under a palm tree, and a nowhere-near finished one, drawn from memory, of Sansa dancing.
Sansa: Sansa does as he tells her and takes her time exclaiming over the picture of Lady, she shows it the little wolf. "Look that's you," Lady noses at the book but leaves it uninterested. Then she turns to the one of herself, she looks surprisingly happy in the drawing and she remembers how happy she has been here. It's enough to make her feel guilty about moping over Edmund. She smiles shyly at him, "You've made me prettier than I am there, Bran."
Bran: "I'm sure I haven't," Bran says lightly. "And how would you know? You were not looking at yourself at the time!"
Sansa: Sansa spends lots of time looking at herself! In her own small mirror and the one at the compound, sometimes she does it because she is making herself pretty and sometimes she had been trying to remind herself of what Mother looked like. She's pleased by his words though thats hardly modest, "I suppose I was not," she grins suddenly. "If you are to catch me dancing in front of a mirror looking at myself, you are not to capture it on paper."
Bran: Bran laughs at that, running a hand back through his white hair. "I think I can promise that."
Sansa: Sansa hands the book back, she knows that Bran wouldn't but she's pleased she got a laugh. "And now I know what you have been doing with yourself."
Bran: "Wasting time utterly," he admits, utterly unapologetic. "Unlike you," he adds, with a tap against the hat.
Sansa: "It's not a waste of time," she said firmly, "they're very lovely." She can't help but be pleased he likes the hat. "I like to sew and I hope it's of use, I would not want you to get sunburnt." Of course now she feels Bran will have to go out, even if only to test the hat.
Bran: Bran has a hat and sunscreen now, he has every intention of going out. He takes the notebook back, tucking it under his pillow with a sheepish smile. "Thank you."
Robb: Robb looks up at her, mildly curious, when he's in the middle of minding his own business and she plops a hat onto his head. "...is that for me?"
Sansa: She adjusts it a little, "No, I'm using you as a model." She takes the hat off him, she hadn't really considered that Robb would want a sunhat. He's as fair skinned as her but a lot of the time he doesn't even wear a shirt.
Robb: Which are precisely the reasons he'd wondered what she was doing. "Who are you making it for? I think my head is bigger than Kialan's, at least a little."
Sansa: Sansa fusses with the stitching dismayed. Why would he thinks she was sewing a sunhat for Kialan, perhaps because of the party and the dancing. "Why would I make Kialan a sunhat," she said, scoffing just slightly in a sisterly way. She pauses, "he's got skin like a dornishman, he'll never burn." She changes the subject quickly. "I could make you a sunhat if you'd like," she offers as eyes the slight tan he has picked up. It suits him a way but it's makes him look different, less northern in a way.
Robb: "That's all right," Robb says, "I'm all right. Unless you get bored. I'll likely forget to wear it." He does run around with as little clothes on as possible these days, almost like Rickon. As for Kialan, he lets the issue be. He's still not quite in the position to discuss who Sansa might fancy.
Sansa: Sansa shakes her head, she did not think Robb would want a hat. "I'm not bored, I've Susan's present to work on." She looks at him, "and if you want me to make you something, I'd prefer it be something that you were going to wear." She stretches her fingers pointedly just because she likes sewing doesn't mean it isn't work.
Robb: Just because Robb likes building doesn't mean it isn't work, too! "I don't need anything at the moment," he promises. "So who is the hat for, then?"
Sansa: She looks at him and then puts the hat on her own head. It's too big for her and she tilts it up. "For a friend," she said, "don't be nosy Robb." She stands then. Part of her knows Robb wouldn't care that she's making Bran a hat, especially if he knew but it's not like he tells her anything unless he has too. She feels bad then she has said she forgives him and she does, she thinks, she's just not forgotten.
Robb: That's hardly fair--Robb tells her things, just not the particular thing she's supposedly forgiven him for. "I was just curious!" he protests.
Sansa: Sansa kisses him on the cheek, to show willing at least. "Allright then," she said, not answering the question on sheer stubborn principle now. "I'll see you later." She walks out of the clearing slowly she is curious to see if she'll get away with this.
Robb: Robb looks after her, bemused. "See you later," he says, shaking his head. It's not as if it won't be easy enough to see, later on, if someone is wearing a reversible hat.
Sansa: Sansa was quite pleased with that. She didn't suppose it would last long if Robb really wanted to know something. It certainly would not work with Father. Still as she made her way to the compound it was nice to know she could keep somethings to herself. She was taking a chance heading into the boys room without Lady but at least she'd met Bran's room mate now. She is about to call 'hello' to make sure he is decent when there is a bark of greeting and Lady pokes her nose round the curtain. "There you are."
Bran: Bran has his notebook on his knees, scribbling away with a rather dull pencil, Lady sprawled across the end of the bed. "I thought you'd be along."
Sansa: Sansa takes the hat from her own head and offers it, "this is for you, I was just testing it." She ruffles Lady's fur as she sits down next to Bran. "What are you writing?"
Bran: "Drawing, actually," Bran answers, pushing the notebook off to the side. "Nothing special. Oh!" He reaches up to take the hat, a smile breaking across his face at the red dragon on one side. "That's brilliant."
Sansa: Sansa smiles, drawing her knees up to chin, she's itching to look at his drawing now. "You can wear it either way," she said. "The other side is to match your coat." She looks at him, "now you have to model it so I can see what it looks like on."
Bran: It's on the blue side now, Bran pops it jauntily onto his head and grins at her. "Ridiculous?"
Sansa: She pouts at him, "I should have given you the one I found in the clothing box." That had been vomit coloured on one side and the brightest green Sansa had ever seen on the other, still it had been useful for the design. "It looks lovely," she said, "as if I would make you a ridiculous hat."
Bran: "I didn't mean the hat was ridiculous," Bran assures her, laughing. "The hat is brilliant. I only expect I look ridiculous in it."
Sansa: "Of course you don't," she said, "you look very handsome. The height of island fashion." She straightened the hat almost imperceptibly. "What were you drawing?"
Bran: "Well, thank you." Bran settles back against the pillow. "Just...things." He looks reluctant, but after a moment's thought offers it to her. "You can look through if you want."
Sansa: Sansa caught the look, "I didn't mean to pry," she said. She takes the book but holds it closed, "only if you are sure you don't mind?"
Bran: Bran nods. "It is all right," he promises. The notebook is full of scribblings, mostly, in a language that looks a bit as though someone just liked writing 'y' and 'w' a lot and didn't care much what they were saying. But there are pictures too; a lot of eyes, and fluttery sketches of Will, or Jake, or Ephram playing the piano.
Sansa: Sansa takes her time looking through the drawings Bran is really quite talented "That's a nice one of Will," she offers admiringly. she recognises Ephram as well and she does not want to ask who the other boy he's drawn is. She's fairly certain she knows and would not bring his name up.
Bran: "Diolch," Bran says, leaning against the wall, watching her flip through pages. "Keep going, you'll like those better." And if she does, she'll reach the finished one of Lady, sprawled on the sand under a palm tree, and a nowhere-near finished one, drawn from memory, of Sansa dancing.
Sansa: Sansa does as he tells her and takes her time exclaiming over the picture of Lady, she shows it the little wolf. "Look that's you," Lady noses at the book but leaves it uninterested. Then she turns to the one of herself, she looks surprisingly happy in the drawing and she remembers how happy she has been here. It's enough to make her feel guilty about moping over Edmund. She smiles shyly at him, "You've made me prettier than I am there, Bran."
Bran: "I'm sure I haven't," Bran says lightly. "And how would you know? You were not looking at yourself at the time!"
Sansa: Sansa spends lots of time looking at herself! In her own small mirror and the one at the compound, sometimes she does it because she is making herself pretty and sometimes she had been trying to remind herself of what Mother looked like. She's pleased by his words though thats hardly modest, "I suppose I was not," she grins suddenly. "If you are to catch me dancing in front of a mirror looking at myself, you are not to capture it on paper."
Bran: Bran laughs at that, running a hand back through his white hair. "I think I can promise that."
Sansa: Sansa hands the book back, she knows that Bran wouldn't but she's pleased she got a laugh. "And now I know what you have been doing with yourself."
Bran: "Wasting time utterly," he admits, utterly unapologetic. "Unlike you," he adds, with a tap against the hat.
Sansa: "It's not a waste of time," she said firmly, "they're very lovely." She can't help but be pleased he likes the hat. "I like to sew and I hope it's of use, I would not want you to get sunburnt." Of course now she feels Bran will have to go out, even if only to test the hat.
Bran: Bran has a hat and sunscreen now, he has every intention of going out. He takes the notebook back, tucking it under his pillow with a sheepish smile. "Thank you."