sixthiterationlogs | We are shaped by the light we let through us

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We are shaped by the light we let through us

WHO: Sansa Stark
WHERE: The Fountain / Fountain Park
WHEN: October 26 (Evening) / October 27 (day)
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: to be updated as needed
STATUS: Open

𝙵𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙽 - 𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙰𝙻

Waking up in cold, dark water that goes over her head isn't the worst thing that Sansa Stark has ever experienced in her life but it is still rather startling when it happens. She barely has time to make sense of what's happening to her when she feels the nudge that pushes her upwards at the same time her lips part in surprise and her mouth fills with water. Her instinct is to sputter and to possibly choke but she doesn't. Her lips clamp together as she holds the water and tries not to think about the panic that threatens to seize her. Panic will take away her focus and make her useless which is dangerous to one's health.

So she kicks her feet without hesitation, trying to remember her father's instructions on how to swim just in case she ever falls into the river. Seconds later, her head breaks the surface and she starts hacking at the same time she spits all the water back out. When she can finally breathe, she pushes some of her hair back from her face and looks around. Spying the edge of the water, she kicks forward, grabs the edge and hoists herself up. Her muscles are aching from the chill and for half a second she worries she might fall back in but she manages to haul herself over instead. Landing on the ground with a little grunt, she lays there with a slight dazed look on her face.

When she finally feels steady enough to move, she looks around while trying to get her bearings. Her black clothes are plastered against her curvy frame, the black looking impossibly dark from her involuntary swim. Her hair looks even darker but there are strange streaks of darkness running down her neck. Almost like liquid shadows or black water. Not that she really notices as she turns in a slow circle. "Hello? Can someone help me?"

𝙵𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙽 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝙺 - 𝚂𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙳𝙰𝚈

Sansa still isn't sure what to make of the new world that she has found herself in but already it's better than where she has been. That doesn't mean she doesn't have questions though or that she isn't curious about the fountain that she had arrived in. When she finally is able to go back just a couple days after her arrival, it's the fountain she goes to first.

Wearing the overalls, the tank top and the jacket that had been provided for her, Sansa stands beside the fountain and stares into the dark depths like she might find some answers swimming about in there. Of course, there is nothing for her to find and eventually she gives up with an aggrieved sigh. Reaching up to tuck back a lock of her (now) red hair, she turns to look around the park. It seems that she has brought the snow with her as it had pretty much started snowing the day after she arrived but she doesn't mind it. The snow reminds her of home in a way, especially with her father's words ringing in her head. Only winter isn't coming anymore. Now it seems to be here.

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"He didn't know that I was going to do it." She had known her would approve of the initiative that she took but he probably had been a bit disappointed too because he liked her red hair. It had reminded him of her mother. But now it didn't matter because she didn't need to hide which was the point of letting Margaery wash the dark from her hair.

The feel of the other woman's fingers massaging over her scalp made her sigh softly while her eyes fluttered close and she enjoyed the sensation. It had been awhile since anyone had tended to her so carefully. Not since Shae.

"I'll be as happy as they will be." She loved her hair. As vain as that made her. "That sounds nice. Maybe I can braid your hair too?"

She would keep the rest of her opinions about Baelish to herself. She could well imagine the things he had in mind for the young Stark girl and where his grasping interests lay. There was no trusting the man and Margaery didn't like being around a man that was unpredictable.

The black coloring was slowly running free of Sansa's hair, staining Margaery's skin and turning the water of the fountain rather inky. But the lustrous shine of Sansa's copper locks was returning. "Are you starting to feel like yourself again?"

She smiled, "That would be lovely, sweetling. We could pick flowers together then."

"If myself feels cold and wet, then yes? Especially since it seems to keep happening to me these days." Sansa giggles softly again, deciding to find a bit of humor in the situation while there is cold water being continuously applied to her hair. "Couldn't we have done this at the house?"

Another shiver works through her before she peeks open her eyes to smile up at her friend. "Yes, like we did in the garden before. This time it will be a lot better though."

"You complain as pitifully as your brothers," Margaery gave her hair a gentle tug, feeling playful with Sansa. "You will find it is a common state here, especially with the coming snow." And it's clear by her tone how much she dislikes that idea. "We could have, but I want you to walk through the door with red hair and shock your brothers."

She nodded, beginning to see more copper tones in her curls. "There are even wild roses. We will need to gather them while we can. I can't imagine that they will survive the snow."

"I do not." Her lips part in a mock gasp as she looked up at her friend, pretending to take insult at the teasing words and the tug at her hair. Then she wrinkled her nose again at having it pointed out to her that she would have to get used to cold water with the fact that winter was likely coming. She sighed, trying not to think about her father and his promised words about just that happening. "They are men, I doubt they would notice."

The mention of wild roses made her smile again. "If we get enough, we can have some in the house and maybe take the rest to the Inn? I'm sure everyone else would enjoy them."

"Just as terrible," she said again, giving her a playful tug of her hair. The last of the black was being washed out now. It had stained Margaery's hands, but at least Sansa's hair was back to shining with that magnificent color. "I think they will. Jon and Robb are observant enough and they care about you. I don't think they would like the black anymore than I do. Even if it is Jon's signature color."

She grinned, "That's a beautiful idea. Though we need to be careful about how far we venture in. The woods aren't safe and your brothers would be furious if I let anything happen to you."

She pretended to complain when Margaery first tugged at her hair but it was lost in a muffled laugh that she cut off by biting her bottom lip before smiling brilliantly at her friend. As for her hair, she couldn't see how well the black was coming out of her hair but she trusted that her friend wouldn't stop until it was all gone. "I thought I was carrying it rather well."

Then she paused, giving a curious look. "Why aren't the woods safe? What's out there?"

She urged Sansa to sit up, wringing out her hair so that it didn't drip down her back. Running her fingers through the girl's locks, she searched for any remaining signs of black coloring. The hideous dye was finally gone and her friend had returned to her normal beautiful state.

Margaery gave a reassuring smile, "All woods are dangerous, sweetling. Wild animals live there and we don't want to get lost. Imagine the frenzy your brothers would be in." She cupped Sansa's cheek gently, hoping to spare her from as many horrors as possible. "You must be so pleased to see them again."

She shifted to sit up but did so slowly so that Margaery would have time to wring the excess water from her hair. The back of her jacket still suffered a bit of dampness from how thick her hair was though and there were times too when she winced lightly at the feel of Margaery's fingers sliding through her hair. Mostly whenever she found an odd tangle.

Once they were done, she smiled as she lifted a hand to touch her hair. "Thank you, Margaery."

She paused when her friend's hand pressed against her cheek, silencing her as she explained how she would have to be careful around and in the forest if she ever got the nerve up to venture inwards. Pressing her lips together, she cast a wary look towards the trees before nodding. "I will be very careful." She promised before smiling warmly again. "I am. I have spent a long time longing to see Jon again and to have Robb back? I can't even begin to explain how happy that makes me."

Margaery smiled warmly at her friend. These simple moments had always lingered in her heart, creating a longing in her after Sansa had disappeared. Despite the motives she had for meeting Sansa, she had come to care for the young woman deeply. She had missed talking to her and sharing her secrets and thoughts...as much as she was capable of.

"Of course," she opened her arms to hug Sansa, pulling her close. "Come, let's walk together and find some flowers."

The mention of Robb brought a measure of blush to her cheeks. "I can only imagine. I would feel the same if Loras were here. He seems happier now. When was the last time that you saw him? Before you left for King's Landing?"

Looking back at it now, Sansa had been aware of what Margaery had been up in regards to trying to 'steal' her engagement but she wouldn't believe that all the moments between them weren't real. They had been genuine in their interactions and the fondness that she felt for the other woman was quite true. She had missed their talks too, just like now.

"We should have brought a comb." She felt a bit self-conscious about the fact that her hair was hanging damp down her back but there was nothing to be done about it. She couldn't twist it up into some elaborate style right now but she did tuck it back after running her fingers through the wet tresses. Then she smiled warmly and sank into the hug that was offered to her.

"I hope there is some red flowers, those would look lovely in your hair." She commented while drawing back. She noticed the blush that warmed Margaery's cheeks and she gave her a curious look while they started walking. "Not since I left King's Landing. I know he was trying to get to me before..."

She trailed off as a flash of pain lanced through her and she instantly quieted for a moment before she finished weakly. "It has been a long time."

"If only. We may have to use fingers to comb your hair." Preferably Sansa's hands. Margaery wouldn't be able to determine what would be too painful for her. "It seems strange to think of combs being a luxury." Or warm cloaks or shaving blades or even candles.

"They may be a bit faded," Margaery said with a fond smile, linking her arm through Sansa's as she guided her into the woods. "The colors of the trees and flowers are changing. We might not even have fully vibrant blooms." Many would be wilting, she imagined. It was still a sweet effort that needed to be made.

Her face darkened as the pain and knowledge of what happened to Robb swept over her. "I think he has found some measure of happiness here." She said softly. "At least I hope he has."

Sansa couldn't deny that she was a little concerned about the fact that they would be missing so many things that were normal, every-day items to her but she had learned to survive once before and she would do so again. At least it seemed she would be free here. Free of the Lannisters, at least.

She let herself be distracted as Margaery clasped her arm again, smiling to herself as she glanced at the trees in the distance again. "That's fine, I'm sure that we could find some that would still make a pretty arrangement or two."

"He seems to be okay." Sansa glanced over, catching the soft murmur as she gave a curious look. "You seem to care a lot about whether he is or not."

There was a small rose bush not far in, still untouched by the falling snow, having been protected by the canopy of branches above. They were wilting, slowly turning brown from the seasonal shift. They would be able to wear the blooms for long, but at least it would be lovely for the day.

She knelt, picking a few with the same ease that she always felt in High Garden. The thorns never bothered her or pierced her skin. She was a rose and roses were not afraid of brambles and thorns.

Margaery's face began to glow as she glanced up at Sansa with a bright grin. "I simply care a great deal for him." The subject of Robb never failed to make her heart race. "He is remarkable."

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We are shaped by the light we let through us

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