(Untitled)

[sansa_stark]

The Door opens. A young maiden enters at a brisk pace; she wears a long grey linen nightgown and a warm cloak. Her hair is chestnut, her eyes deep blue.

"Maester Cole--" she begins urgently. Then she stops, blinking, eyes tearing as they adjust from the cold darkness behind her to the sudden warmth and light of Milliways.

"Oh," she murmurs. She

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[necessary_child]

Sam's sitting at a nearby table, working magic in the air. He's writing strange shapes in different-coloured lights.

The mun has no idea what exactly the point of this is, but is assured by her pup that it is Really Definitely Not Pointless, Honest.

...Possibly, it's just because it looks kinda cool.

[sansa_stark]

It is cool.

Once Sansa requests a napkin from a waitrat, dries her eyes and nose, and looks around, she notices it. Her breath catches in her throat. She half-rises from her seat, but doesn't move quite yet. She's content to watch, and remember how Milliways differs from her land.

[necessary_child]

Sam's still focused on making the coloured lights dance around him, eyes far away and expression less than normally guarded as he absently writes letters and odd, spiky shapes in the air.

Yeah. It's just because it's sparkly. For someone who makes a point of not celebrating Christmas, he seems to be in a surprisingly Christmassy sort of mood.

[sansa_stark]

This is something Sansa wants to remember. She doesn't know what Alayne wants - Alayne didn't survive in Milliways. Sansa did.

She makes her way quietly closer to Sam's table, not once taking her eyes from this beauty.

[fighting_mad]

Plourr glances up from a table plastered with rifled-through reports and notices the girl sitting nearby. The hair isn't the right color and it's hiding her face from view, but she sits an awful lot like ...

Plourr pushes auburn hair out of her eyes and looks again.

[sansa_stark]

The girl motions a waitrat over and murmurs to it. It comes back a moment later with a napkin. She dabs at her eyes, then her nose, then she closes her eyes and takes two deep breaths.

At the second her head lifts and her eyes open. Sansa's face, Sansa's eyes. She's not fully composed - she rubs at her face once more - but she's getting there.

[fighting_mad]

It is her. Plourr's small smile fades as she takes in the napkin, and she rises and slips away to the bar.

She sits down across from Sansa, with a sheaf of papers under her arm and a mug of caf for herself, and she sets a cup of something hot and sweet on the table. "Hey, Sansa." She pushes the second cup over to Sansa. "I haven't seen you in months."

[sansa_stark]

Sansa half-turns in her seat. It takes a moment for Plourr - the idea about Plourr, the idea of Milliways - to sink in. Sansa herself has purple shadows under her eyes, and the waxy, dull complexion of the tired.

"Plourr," she greets, with a small smile. "I-- months?" It takes a moment to remember what the word means. Her eyes grow wide. "Truly? I've been gone - why, naught but two sevendays."

Were Sansa more awake, this would be shocking information. As it is, she's more disconcerted than anything.