He had always in some ways reminded her of Father. Here and now, with so many concerns weighing him, the similarity was even more striking.
"The Gods don't spare anyone. It wasn't your time so you survived." Had her views always been so starkly pragmatic? There was always a streak of it, but there had been an optimism there before, burned away by sorrow, terror, and in the end the cold sort of anger that could swallow a person whole. Revenge was a funny thing that way.
"Just... rest for now. You have this room for as long as you need, and they'll at least feed you in the evening. Nothing fancy like back home, but it'll be warm." A thin sort of smile; compared to the other noble houses, the Starks had always tended to be very simple in their tastes as far as food went, both from a preference to be more mindful, as well as a rationality to try and avoid excesses where they weren't needed.
"I'll have to go back to the House in the evenings, but I can visit you before I go to the fishmongers in the morning and after I finish selling." She had to keep this a secret. As well as she could anyways, it was harder to hide a brother than it was a sword after all. "If anyone asks, I did this favor because I wanted to hear about things going on in Westeros."
It wasn't hard for those around them to know she wasn't a native Braavosi girl, and the idea of her being homesick was certainly not outside of the realm of possibility. She knew that she'd been seen with him, that the inkeeper would probably gossip, but it was a risk she was willing to take. She wanted nothing more than to spend her time with him, just bask in the relief that someone in their shattered little family was still alive that she wasn't alone in the world, but she couldn't risk her position either.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2015-04-14 03:31 am (UTC)"The Gods don't spare anyone. It wasn't your time so you survived." Had her views always been so starkly pragmatic? There was always a streak of it, but there had been an optimism there before, burned away by sorrow, terror, and in the end the cold sort of anger that could swallow a person whole. Revenge was a funny thing that way.
"Just... rest for now. You have this room for as long as you need, and they'll at least feed you in the evening. Nothing fancy like back home, but it'll be warm." A thin sort of smile; compared to the other noble houses, the Starks had always tended to be very simple in their tastes as far as food went, both from a preference to be more mindful, as well as a rationality to try and avoid excesses where they weren't needed.
"I'll have to go back to the House in the evenings, but I can visit you before I go to the fishmongers in the morning and after I finish selling." She had to keep this a secret. As well as she could anyways, it was harder to hide a brother than it was a sword after all. "If anyone asks, I did this favor because I wanted to hear about things going on in Westeros."
It wasn't hard for those around them to know she wasn't a native Braavosi girl, and the idea of her being homesick was certainly not outside of the realm of possibility. She knew that she'd been seen with him, that the inkeeper would probably gossip, but it was a risk she was willing to take. She wanted nothing more than to spend her time with him, just bask in the relief that someone in their shattered little family was still alive that she wasn't alone in the world, but she couldn't risk her position either.