001 winter is coming

[theladyofwinterfell]

Who: Sansa Stark
When: after the power plant
Where: around Draega; various
What: Influence Prompts - Baby Light My Fire, A Somber Affair, Loren's Lament
Warnings: TBD



Sansa has spent the last little while getting comfortable with small spells and basic Craft. She cannot think of it as a proper extension of herself, not yet, but she can conjure witchlight and do convenience spells with a modicum of effort. Her biggest issue is knowing the depth of her strength and how long she can go without resting and rejuvenating herself. When Grejor asks for volunteers to help warm houses when the power plant has gone awry, Sansa is among the first to volunteer. Perhaps she doesn't wear the darkest Jewel, but she does want to help and to know the people she's come to aid. This allows her to do both.

She asks how to do the warming spell and seems to get it after a few tries; she'd already figured out witchlight with Molly some days back. She has a partner in this endeavor, someone willing to go with her to help share the burden, and she extends her gloved hand to them.

"We should get to know the people as we help them," she suggests. "We should show them that we only mean to help, that our intent is always good."





Sansa hasn't heard the stories of witchblood. If she had, a great deal of it would have been growing in the cracks of Winterfell, covering the snowy grounds with blooms of sorrow. When she sees the White jeweled witch scrabbling at the plant, she cannot help but want to aid her, want to ease her suffering somehow. Sansa kneels alongside her and gently asks what she might do to help, only to be told that this plant shows the blood of a witch has been spilled; it doesn't take long for her to realize that this is a relative of Councilwoman Vera.

"I'll help you move it, if you want. We can transport it to your own garden and have a cup of tea, perhaps?" Sansa knows what it feels like to lose family, to feel as if you are alone in the world. She doesn't want this witch to feel that way. When she sees someone nearly step upon the plant, she tosses up a Purple Dusk shield and speaks a bit harshly.

"Careful where you step," she says, eyes ice cold. "We're attempting to save...what is it called?" The witch supplies that it's witchblood, for her mother, and Sansa nods in acknowledgement of that.

"Help us move this witchblood to the family home. It's a token of remembrance and it should be where the Councilwoman was loved and cherished, not here upon these stones."





Sansa has spent most of the day out in Draega trying to find shops to buy sewing supplies and meeting both Blood and landen to get to know them better. She's only just returned to the Queen's Residence to be looped into a conversation with Prince Loren. She has little experience with him, save in exchanging the smallest of pleasantries, and being asked to help with something is both bewildering and something of an honor. He'd trust a stranger like her to handle delicate business?

The delicate business, it turns out, are a stack of sternly-worded complaints that need addressing. Both the explosion and the death of Vera have upended the balance of Draega and both Blood and landen have taken to pen and paper to make their voices heard. Sansa has experience with this, having mediated disputes and handled correspondence on Jon's behalf as Lady of Winterfell, so while there's quite a lot to go through, she has an idea of where to begin.

She hasn't sat down at the worktable very long before someone else is pulled into the room, someone who looks familiar enough as another stranger and not one of the Draega citizens. Sansa tips her head toward a chair across her.

"It seems you, too, have been conscripted. Come, help me sort these complaints by subject so we can get started."

Comments

Loren's Lament

[song_of_ice]

It's not the sort of work he enjoyed doing, even as Lord Commander, but he has enough experience in dealing with petty complaints to have know how to start going about this. It's not a surprise to see Sansa though, seated with a stack of papers of her own and already hard at work. This was the sort of thing she was best at, so it was good judgement on Loren's part.

They hadn't really spoken since the power plant, but he was glad to see she was all right. That she even addressed him was a surprise. He nodded down to his papers, giving a look of 'can you believe we're doing this?' before sitting and sorting through the stacks.

"Seems a few have to do with rival businesses."

[theladyofwinterfell]

Sansa lifts her eyes at Jon's voice, glancing at him from across the table. She's impossibly angry at him, yes, but he's also her brother. She doesn't have so many of those that she can go and toss them aside like so much garbage. Still, when she speaks, it's a bit formal and cool.

"It would make sense that others would try to fill the contracts left vacant by the power plant's failure. Not to mention all the restaurants that seem to be petitioning for more protection."

Sansa draws out one of the complaints, pushes it across the table. "This one wants guards posted at the door morning, noon and night because they think the landens are animals. Until I came here, I would be considered a landen myself. I still feel like one."

[song_of_ice]

The tone of her voice is familiar to him, having heard it often when they were children. He ignores how cool and formal it is, instead focusing on the task at hand. Whatever he might be feeling or thinking about what passed between them, he knew how to compartmentalize.

"Some of these aren't contracts, they're petty squabbles. There was something similar when I first arrived. Two merchants tried to sabotage each other. Seems like it's common in this city." And it could likely be handled in a similar way, at least. Gentle persuasion, something that Sansa was more equipped for.

"That's resources the city can't afford to spend." Guards needed food, armor and compensation for their time. "There was something about wards? Maybe that would pacify them?"

[theladyofwinterfell]

"Wards would be better," Sansa agrees. "Posting guards is gold and time wasted, I think, and ultimately I think the squabbles between the two restaurants were merely to annoy one another and not to cause real harm. I know these people are afraid because of what happened to the Councilwoman but that seems an exception, not the rule."

Sansa taps her pen against one of the complaints. "So we offer to ward the businesses, both landen and Blood. I don't know if the magic is something we can do ourselves but we could ask around about the spell and see if there's something we can recreate."

[song_of_ice]

"They are and when people are afraid, they sometimes overreact." The last thing they wanted was a mob forming because of some sort rumor or fear. Both of them knew how quickly the people could turn and unease could shift to violence. "Some of the others who have been here longer might know?"

But like she said, they would have to ask around. It was something that he would need to learn anyway. He would want to make sure that both he and Sansa had some sort of ward over their rooms. "If the Blood businesses agree. They might try to negotiate special privileges."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"We might have to concede them, since the crime happened on Blood land. What I would want to do would be have Blood and landen help one another with wards but I doubt that's going to be productive. They're at one another's throats just now," Sansa says, frowning a bit.

"But the best way to end enmity is to force people to find a common ground and work together. It helped me with the men of the Vale and the men in the North. Still, the Blood and landen might as well be knights and wildlings for all their differences."

[song_of_ice]

He considered this, contemplating how quickly he had tried to force the Watch to accept the Freefolk. "If you push them to put aside old grudges too much, it will turn them against us. We need to be trusted by both sides." And not be killed in the process.

"You find your true friends on the battlefield." But she was right. Common enemies tended to bring others together...as much as possible. There was always resistance. He only needed to think back to Royce's objections to the Freefolk being south of the Wall. They needed to see what the large threat was. "The men in the Vale and the men in the North don't have thousands of years of fighting between them."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"No, they don't. There's some differences, yes, but both of them despise the fact that they have to fight with Wildlings until those Wildlings are the only thing keeping them from being overrun by White Walkers," Sansa says sagely.

She taps her pen against the letter again, frustrated. "I would give my right arm for Ramsay Bolton right about now. He's so unlikable that both Blood and landen would be calling for his head. Sadly, I think it's beyond Queen Fayura's power to raise him from the dead for even that noble purpose."

[song_of_ice]

"The Freefolk lost a number of their fighters at Hardhome and in reclaiming Winterfell." Which sadly meant that they weren't going to make as much as a difference as he might want. Every able bodied counted, but if it was simply with the numbers they had, they would fall in one night. "Dead men look much the same."

He didn't know how to feel about that statement. While she was right that he would give the city a common enemy, the thought of the Bolton bastard only reminded Jon of his failure to save Rickon. "Ramsay with the Craft isn't something I want to consider."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"Absolutely not. Unlikeable though he was, I would not want to inflict that plague upon anyone, much less with Craft. It's best he remains stomped out like so much dust beneath one's heel."

She and Jon had taken care of that, separately but in equal contribution. House Bolton would be nothing but a rumor and a ghost in a few generations.

"So how did you get the Freefolk to rally for Winterfell? I know I was there but I am also a woman - I wasn't privy to every war council. If you could find a way to find Freefolk willing to fight for a kneeler, we can breach the gap between landen and Blood, I think."

[song_of_ice]

Ramsay had been dealt with by Sansa, much to his relief. That night was a blur to him, as the loss of his adrenaline had left him drained and exhausted. He heard the dogs and the screams, but preferred not to ask or consider what was happening to Ramsay. It was for Sansa to do with him what she will, he wouldn't let his honor interfere.

Thinking back to his talks with the Freefolk, it left him uneasy and weighed down again by guilt. It hadn't been their fight, but he had used them as though they were his army. Because of that, so many lost their lives.

"I asked and they agreed to help." Such a simple answer. "Tormund made a better case than I did. I shouldn't have asked them. They didn't escape Hardhome to fight in my war."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"And we don't have a Tormund who can tell everyone how you fought for him," Sansa says. "So we're back to the beginning and we don't know how to bring the two together."

She thinks for a moment and then lifts her hand, an idea forming. "What if we had wards that were half landen and half Blood? Spelled, possibly, but also some sort of new lock? If both of them worked on them, they'd feel invested."

( a somber affair. )

[thricefold]

The woman who nearly stepped on it - she is definitely older than Sansa, made clear by her weathered face and greying hair - begins to apologise when she gathers herself after the surprising appearance of the shield. Judging by the lack of Jewel on her and the mended state of her clothes, she's a landen and not one with a high station. Perhaps that's why she's asking for forgiveness so badly.

Zita, who is just behind the woman, moves to her side. After she assess the situation, she's quick to take over the conversation for her friend's sake and to their clear relief.

"I'm sorry," she starts off apologetically, "I was encouraging my friend to walk ahead of me and I must have distracted her." She pauses now, no doubt trying to think of a response to the call for help. "I'll stay behind to help you and your acquaintance but- Will it be alright for my friend to move on to bring her package to her husband? She needs to hand him something important."

[theladyofwinterfell]

Sansa looks up and looks over at the woman, her face softening a bit. She hadn't seen who the offending foot had belonged to and she'd been sharp when perhaps a bit of softness might have done better. It's a mistake, after all, and everyone has made at least one of those in their life.

"Of course. My apologies for being so brusque," Sansa says, dipping her head toward the two women. "I know you couldn't have meant harm. I was just focused on protecting the plant, that's all. Please, go and take your package to your husband. If you need help, I am happy to assist."

[thricefold]

"We should have been more careful." Because Zita had been pushing her friend to hurry. The break for Beryon will be ending soon and he needs to apply the medicine on his joints soon. "Katarine- Please, go ahead. I think you should be fine by yourself, but let me know if something happens when we meet up later."

The woman - Katarine - thanks Zita and Sansa profusely and now takes her leave, assuring Sansa as she departs that she'll be fine delivering the parcel by herself. This time, while she makes her way through the crowd, she makes sure to watch where she's going, clearly not wanting to intrude on something else or someone else along the way.

When she's sure Katarine is out of sight and not in trouble, Zita turns her attention back to their pair. She begins to go through the box of items she's carrying. "Do you have a container for the plant? I have a small container on me from an earlier chore." Well- She thinks she has the smaller container. She didn't get rid of it earlier, right? "Perhaps we could use it to keep the plant there for the time being."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"I don't have a container with me. I thought I might try to vanish it, though recalling it might prove difficult. It might be easier simply to put it in your container and then shield it in case we drop it."

Sansa looks to the White-jeweled witch, wanting her consent before taking the plant from the shallow earth it grows in. She doesn't want to bring any more harm or hurt to her. When she nods her assent, Sansa looks back to Zita.

"I can shield it, if you wish, or you can if you're darker."

[thricefold]

Darker...?

It takes her a minute to realise that the young lady is speaking about the jewels that they wore.

Just as Zita finds the little box that used to carry some spices she had bought for baking, she turns her head to show the hair clip she wore on the back of her head. The Jewel on it, mounted on the clip, was a polished Green. "If it'll be easier, then we can do that. I've been practicing the Craft concerning shields here for a while and it's similar to warding where I am."

She pulls out the box and presents it to Sansa if she wanted to take it. "I'm Zita, by the way. Zita Harrington." She smiles, the expression a touch sad but genuine. "I wish our meeting could have been under other circumstances but I'm happy to help you two anyway I can."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"Sansa Stark," Sansa offers in kind. "I think you should shield it, since you're of a darker color than I am, and I will carry it. It seems an equitable division of labor."

When Zita mentions their meeting not being under the best of circumstances, Sansa shakes her head a bit. "It was my fault I was so sharp. I was so worried for our friend here," she says, indicating Vera's daughter. "I thought of little else."

[thricefold]

"It's good you're thinking of her and her well-being." Zita lowers her voice as she readies her magic, extending a palm out to use it a channel point of her magic. Her voice is whisper soft, so it only makes it more difficult for her to be heard. Perhaps for the best, considering her next words- "It seems no one else is and no one wants to."

The crowd around them tries to politely but pointedly ignore the spectacle of Vera's child trying to dig up the plant. Some even go out of their way to throw certain looks at her, or make it a point to murmur unkind words.

It causes the woman's shoulder to hunch up while she tries to get the plant out. The sight of it causes Zita's lips to thin in disapproval at the others' and in sympathy for the woman. "We should hurry. The sooner we get her out of here, the better for her sake."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"I know what it is like to lose family," Sansa says, just as quietly. "I don't even have the bones of my family to put in our crypt. If I can help this woman take the witchblood back to her home where it can have a place of honor, perhaps she can have solace in the way I never had."

It's a somber thing to mention, of course, but it's very personal to Sansa to be able to help Vera's daughter the way no one helped her.

[thricefold]

Zita's eyes widen for a bit before she regains her composure, her expression settling for sympathy. She never experienced the lost of family just yet, but there have been far too many close calls in the past that she would never wish for it to happen to anyone else. Meeting someone who has lost loved ones is a sobering experience. It reminds her to count her blessings more than ever.

"That's a kind thing of you to do," she says at last, after taking a minute to consider her words. "Experience is a harsh mistress but offers us insight to things that would not have been available otherwise." She looks towards the daughter of Vera, seeing she's finally gotten the plant out of the ground, cupping it and some soil in her palms. "Looks like she's ready- I have the spell up. Give me the word and we can proceed."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"Go ahead and cast the spell so we can get this plant moved and put in soil where it can grow and flourish," Sansa says. It's strange that blood would cause this to grow but so many things in Hayll are strange to her. This is just another among their number, she's afraid.

"We'll have the witchblood moved soon, I assure you. You won't have to worry about careless feet any longer."

[thricefold]

While the Craft of making shields and wards is different enough from her own world’s field of warding, there’s enough similarity that Zita is able to cast the spell without too much trouble.

Soon, the little plant is protected from harm as the shield is wrapped around it. Vera's daughter expresses her relief in seeing it now safe and secure, thanking the two women for their aide. That alone has the councilwoman's daughter wiping tears from her eyes, finally gathering her composure now that this first crucial step is done.

The second step is to hurry back to the family residence - Something she takes the lead on now, able to think more clearly thanks to her end goal being so close now. She gives directions to her home- Which is far. It seems the family of Councilwoman Vera lives in River East. Which makes sense. It's where most of the Blood live and have lived for generations.

But it happens to also be very far.

fire

[championbittersweet]

Jonathan has difficulty helping around the city during the daylight hours, but fortunately the cold cares little about the time of day and homes need more heating in the night, so he feels as though he may be able to offer some assistance to these people.

He's less certain about the companion he is to work with, however. She seems young, so much so that she reminds him of his sister when they were younger, and while Jonathan is hesitant to allow much contact with anyone, he doesn't pull away from her hand.

He's equally surprised by her proposal. While Jonathan has spent time in the past learning more about the people of London, it's always been a rather one-sided affair to assist them or ensure they get the treatment required. While this is similar, the goal to convince people they mean no harm, he still feels somewhat out of his depth.

"Wouldn't they simply wish for us to assist and then leave?" he suggests, his reluctance poorly hidden.

[theladyofwinterfell]

"Perhaps they do. If that's the case, we'll leave after we've helped them. All the same, we ought to at least put faces to names and learn who the people are in this city," Sansa says. She feels it's sage advice, even if it's something she brought from home to here; perhaps the people here won't be open to it.

"If you'd prefer I do most of the talking, I'm not opposed to it. I have no issues with introducing us to the landen or the Blood. People are people, after all, and we all bleed the same blood."

Sansa is going to hold fast to this. Differences in caste can be breached when there is a common enemy. In this instance, the enemy is the cold and that's an enemy Sansa knows well.