hellhouse | (no subject)

( Sansa casts a look at the bathroom door and then sighs a bit. She doesn't trust doors of late and for good reason. )

Doors haven't been our friends of late, Jared.

( She struggles with the strange trousers and the shirt but she eventually gets them on. She at least still has the strange smallclothes she'd been given with the first gown and she keeps them, not sure if she'll find any more. )

You can turn back around now. I've dressed.

[ Jared's eyebrows shoot up and his expression is drawn thoughtfully as he stares back at the wall. ]

All right, I'll concede that. That's fair. You're not wrong.

[ He turns back to face her and smirks. Jared wonders if she has any idea how hot she is. ]

Damn girl, you clean up nice when you're not stuck in a pink nightmare.

( His words aren't the ones they'd use in Westeros but the tone of them and the way he's looking at her is not lost on her; men are men no matter where they're from. Jared, at least, hasn't done anything untoward and Sansa isn't inclined to distrust him at the moment. He's only admired what she looks like - he hasn't forced himself on her. )

I should probably confess something while we're here alone. I gave a false name at first because I thought I'd been kidnapped because of who I was. I'm Queen Sansa Stark, not Sharra Snow. I've come to the conclusion that whoever is holding us here doesn't seem to care that I'm Queen in the North.

[ That confession takes him a little by surprise. Not because she lied about her name, because if he were a woman in a situation like this, he'd have done the same damn thing to protect himself. Why would she want to share her actual identity with a stranger who might or might not have had something to do with her presence here, after all?

The surprise comes from the title. It explains the fact that she's so cool and collected even when he'd been panicking. It explains how come she appears to be at ease with being in charge and calling the shots.

A better man would probably be humbled. Jared isn't that great a guy. ]

I ain't mad at'cha. I'd've done the same thing, probably. Fun fact: Sansa rolls off the tongue a little nicer than Sharra, if you ask me.

I confess, I picked something I could remember so I went with something that started with the same letter. You were so kind to me before that I felt I owed you the truth. I could have maintained the lie, naturally, but it would have been unfair.

( Jared could have abandoned her, after all, and he hadn't. Sansa doesn't forget a kindness. )

We have a saying where I'm from - The North Remembers. You were kind to me when you didn't have to be. I acknowledge that.

Is that sentiment on the record? My parents would never believe you.

[ Which, now that he's said it out loud, is actually kind of sad. The realization draws down his smirk into something a little more neutral. ]

Well, thanks for telling me your real name. I like it, it's nice.

I'm rather fond of it myself. There was a time where it was too dangerous for me to use my true name and now that I can use it again, I never want to go without it.

( Sansa moves to sit beside him, feeling a bit awkward without the armor of her usual gowns. )

I've never worn breeches before, Jared. Not even once. My sister wears them all the time - she dresses in leathers like a man. But I'm a queen. I've never dressed this way.

[ That's so weird to think about, the idea that she had to hide her identity even back home. He wouldn't want to have to live like that and it's hard to wrap his mind around the idea that she might not have had a choice.

Then, she says that and he looks over at her when she sits beside him. ]

Jeans.

[ He grins a little bit and looks down, finally actually humbled, somehow, by this part of the conversation. He's okay with being a smart ass but having to explain clothes to a queen, well. If that doesn't humble a dude, he's not sure what would. ]

They're called jeans. The breeches, I mean. Or denim, that's the material they're made out of, anyway. Does it feel better or worse than the gowns?

Edited 2019-06-27 01:21 (UTC)

Practical. They feel more practical than gowns but I feel more exposed. You can see everything when I'm wearing these and you don't see...all of that in a gown. Not the gowns I make, anyway.

( It's also strange to wear something she's not made by her own hand. Sansa hasn't worn clothes she hasn't made herself since she was fourteen. )

Do women dress like this where you come from?

[ He doesn't mean to laugh, but it happens anyway. ]

Oh, you sweet summer child. This?

[ Jared gestures to her outfit with one hand, grinning slightly. ]

This is a really conservative outfit. Wait until you try on the leggings if you think you can see everything in what you've got on right now.

But yeah. Women dress like this and in less where I come from. You should see the swimsuits, holy shit.

( Sansa freezes when he calls her a sweet, summer child. It's something said in Westeros, most commonly to children born during the Long Summer like she was, and she can tell that Jared isn't from Westeros. Her face pales a bit and she cannot hear the rest of what he says. )

How...how did you know I was born in the Long Summer? You aren't from Westeros, you cannot be, you do not speak like a Westerosi man.

[ That expression and the quick change in her demeanor throws Jared off. ]

...I didn't? What are you talking about?

You called me a sweet, summer child. That's what people call those of us who were born in the Long Summer, those of us who haven't seen a winter. I only saw my first winter over the past few years.

( Sansa is still confused but a little less startled than before. Why would he know that expression if he isn't Westerosi? It makes no sense - and none of his speech or manner up until now makes her think he is Westerosi. )

It's a common saying where I come from. The words of my house are Winter is Coming. House Stark is always preparing for winter.

[ Jared shakes his head, holding his hands up. ]

It's pretty common where I came from, too. Only, it's usually used when you're talking to someone sheltered, no offense. I meant it like you're sheltered from my culture by your own, I guess, because what you're wearing ain't nothin' compared to some of the stuff I've seen women wearing back home. Hell, my mom wears more revealing clothes than that when she goes to yoga class, and it's like totally normal.

I have never worn anything that shows my body like this. Always gowns, always modest. The only person who has ever seen me in less than a full gown aside from you is...well, was my lord husband. No one living has ever seen me in less than a gown other than you, now.

( Sansa looks down at her clothes, tries to decide if she's all right with them. She has to fight here and she needs to think like Arya, not like herself. Arya would choose these clothes. )

It will take some getting used to.

I mean, it's less fabric than a gown but it still covers you really well, you know? Don't worry. That's still modest by most standards, Babes.

[ He gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile, then, because it seems like she could use one and he still owes her one. ]

I think there's some hoodies around here if you want something to cover your arms more?

[ Jared belatedly processes that past tense and the reassuring smile shifts into something more sympathetic. ]

I'm sorry about your husband... [ ...awkward. ]

Edited 2019-06-28 01:28 (UTC)

I'm not sorry about my husband. He was a cruel beast and deserved his death.

( Sansa leaves it up in the air as to how Ramsay Bolton earned his particular death and the manner in which it occurred - no need in rehashing all of that. )

As to the clothing, I will adapt. Survival means adaptation, after all.

[ ...even more awkward...

For a moment, he just kind of looks at her, because he's not sure how to respond to that. ]

Well, okay then.

[ He's good with leaving it at that. ]

If it makes you feel better, you look good in that.

( Sansa is used to people complimenting her but this catches her off guard because she's not used to being in trousers and she's not used to being anything less than a lady and a queen. Here, she's trapped like everyone else. She smooths her hands down her jeans and nods once. )

Thank you. I still feel as if I'm wearing nothing but if this is the nothing women are supposed to wear, then I shall wear it. To adapt is to survive.

I think the least of the adapting we'll need to do is get used to the less than desirable clothes they put us in here. Baby steps, though, I guess... You'll get more comfortable in it maybe after you've been wearing them for a while and get used to the way they feel. You're really not showing much, though, I promise.

[ It'd be really nice if she were, but he's smart enough not to say so. ]

I don't want to keep you or anything, so if there's anything else you want to take so you have more options to put together outfits, please take whatever you want. The leggings might be good for sleeping in, actually. I have a feeling you won't like wearing them like pants, even though lots of women do.

You're not keeping me from anything, Jared. Truth be told, I don't like being alone here. It reminds me of...other times in my life when I was not as safe as I was as queen. I would rather have the company.

( If it's weak of her to admit it, so be it. Sansa doesn't think it's weak to be afraid of this place. )

[ Admittedly, it's a little bit surprising to have someone imply that he makes them feel a little safer just by existing in the same space. Nobody's ever said that before. He's still not sure that she's making a great choice, since he's been basically useless, but he's certainly not going to complain. ]

You can stay. I don't care, I just don't want you to feel like you have to or whatever.

I am a queen, Jared. I don't do anything I don't want to do, trust me. I just feel as if we ought to stay close to one another and protect each other. I don't like this place at all.

( They'd been trapped in that greenhouse for what felt like an eternity, after all, and Sansa hasn't felt such fear since Ramsay. She doesn't want to feel it again any time soon but it would have been worse if she were alone. )

I would tend to agree with you. I don't want to be, like, up each other's asses every minute of every day, or anything, but generally knowing where each other are so that we know whether we ought to worry that something's wrong if the other is gone for too long or whatever, or knowing that there's safety in numbers when it's time to go to sleep, or something. That'd be good, in any case.

[ Besides, it's not like he's the type that's going to fight a hot girl saying she wants to share space with him. Sure, there's two beds, but they don't have to use both all the time, right? Maybe he'll get lucky. God, he hopes he gets lucky. That would at least make being trapped in this fucking hell hole at least a little bit worthwhile. ]

Edited (fucking tab+space) 2019-06-30 18:47 (UTC)

I think I would notice if you were in that particular place, Jared. We'll share the room for now so we can have a place to account for one another and check in. I'd rather this than be separated. We can use these devices at other times, I suppose.

( They're not the most useful, as she cannot see everyone's faces, but she can see most of them now. )