event starter for @crppldheir
Delicate fingers fold over the soft grey fabric of her dress. The feast and the ball definitely did look beautiful, and if Sansa had seen such a thing a few traumas ago, she would have loved it. Once upon a time, this would have been her element, dancing to good music, sipping on wine, and flirting with some wealthy Lords who caught her eye. Looking around now, she could almost name all the ones that would have caught her untainted eye. Ones that she would have batted her little eyelashes at and let them dance with her for hours on end : but Sansa was no longer an untainted bird, with the traumas that had passed she was now a wolf. And wolves did not bat their pretty eyelashes at men who paid her no attention.
So she sat by herself, a glass of wine neatly placed next to her, waiting to drink. But the untrusting side of her wondered if it was poisoned, she had heard of the Red Wedding's original plan, how they were going to kill them all in the midst of the event. What would stop the King from doing the same thing? And what a better, easier way to do it than the poison the cups of those who he wanted dead? She had no doubt she was on that list, knew that the King had to be keeping a close on her and her whereabouts, knew that she would be nothing but a pawn here in the capital, just another object used to keep Robb obeying every command. But she did not plan on being a quiet pawn, not this time around.
Her eyes were scanning the crowds, noticing how some of the people actually looked genuinely happy. She supposed not everyone had the senses that she had, and not everyone was so untrusting of the world around them. She knew that for some, having the Targaryens back on the throne was a good thing. But she also knew that many did not accept the King, knew that they thought him to be mad like his father. Her mind drifts to the Princess : negotiations would likely be so much easier with her, level headed as she seemed.
She had yet to spot a familiar face though until her eyes fell on the sharp features of a man that she knew could be none other than a Tyrell. Willas, she supposed. It had to have been.
The Tyrells had never been allied with the Lannisters. She could remember how fondly Margery looked at her, and how the High Garden's little rose smiled and tried to give her the best advice she could given Sansa's pitiful situation. She also remembered Loras, and how he was willing to wed her before she'd been ripped away from that bit of freedom too. Remembered Olenna being so kind to her, all throughout their meetings. Perhaps if she was able to ask the elderly woman for the help back then, she would have been free of King's Landing and all the trauma that came with it. She considered them friends, figured she could trust them enough not to turn and stab her in the gut when she wasn't looking.
Smiling only slightly, the girl stood and made her way to the young Lord, a glass of wine in hand. It had been a dog's age since she had heard anything of the wounded Lord, and was glad to see that despite all the disputes and terrible things that had happened within the last while, he was here, alive and well. As far as she could see.
"Lord Willas," She greeted fondly, dipping her head to show her respect, but would go no further than that. "I hadn't expected to see you here."
