(no subject)

[farfromthesea]

A proper winter seems to be coming to Darrow at last, and while Theon will miss the long days of warmth, he finds the coming chill and dusting of snow to be gentle. Just enough snow blankets the ground to give the fields and grass a cover, and paints the trees silver. The paths, however, stay clear and dry, and the cold itself only requires light winter wear-- woolen jackets and scarves and gloves.

Theon enjoys it despite the tiny whisper in the back of his head, and then on days like this, when he walks with Sansa through the park, the whisper disappears. There are vendors here and there, and it seems on a day like this that there's often a tiny market to be found too.

Even now, he can hear music being played somewhere, bright and tinkling.

"The further we get into winter here, the more I think the place is determined I enjoy it," Theon admits to Sansa, as they cross over a bridge, pausing at the highest point. "It's different, isn't it?" There's a whoop of delight from below as children skate under the bridge.

Comments

[facethetruth]

"Isn't everything here?" Sansa replies, though she's smiling a little as she does. So much about Darrow is different and strange in ways she's not sure she'll ever get used to; by now, she suspects that goes without saying. This sort of different, though, isn't such a bad thing. She's missed the weather of home, but not the oppressiveness of winter there. She saw her people through one of them, but it was no easy task, and she knows from the circumstances under which she arrived how difficult it would be to manage here, too. This — something shorter-lived, a pleasant chill in the air, decorations and lights marking the change of the season — is something she thinks she can enjoy, too.

"At least with this, it's a good sort of different."

[farfromthesea]

"Aye," Theon agrees, glancing around again at their surroundings, which are pretty as a picture-- though they ultimately can't hold a candle to the woman beside him. He's as besotted as ever, perhaps more now that they're not bound to title or role. "I suppose part of it is knowing that the winter will go and there will be spring. Easier to celebrate the seasons when they turn properly."

The children continue to holler with delight as they skate back up toward a larger patch of ice, what looks like a pond all decorated with twinkly lights and greens.

"Look," he says, nudging her lightly. "Do you remember skating in Winterfell? The times it was warm enough that we could tie blades to our boots and skate on the creeks and ponds?"

[facethetruth]

Sansa follows his gaze down to the children on the ice, the sound of their cheerful shouts and laughter easily carrying up to the bridge where they're standing. It's both reminiscent of home and not at the same time, which seems to be the best she can do in that regard around here. Even in the way she interacts with people from her own world, it's like that, familiar but different — mostly in ways that are positive, too, though she misses Winterfell like a physical part of herself. It's bittersweet, all of this, but she's trying to focus on the sweet parts, the pleasant memories and the good company.

"Of course," she says, warm and pleased. "Those look much sturdier, don't they?"

[farfromthesea]

"They do," Theon agrees, his features shifting slightly as he thinks through it. "You could go a lot faster than we did, I reckon." There's a brightness in his eyes and a curve to his mouth that suggests he'd like to find out just how fast he could go, and when he turns to her, it's with a little grin.

"I seem to recall you were good on the blades," he says. "Nimble, quick. Made Arya squawk a bit indignantly, I think."

He's measuring the next bit for only a moment. "Think you're still any good?" It's the slightest, warmest teasing, but suddenly this seems like the best possible use of their day.