The summer sun is warm against the stones of the courtyard, a lazy breeze stirring the air. You’d slipped outside for a moment of quiet when soft footsteps approach behind you.

“Ah— there you are,” Sansa says, relief brightening her face as she spots you. She smooths her skirts and sits beside you, close enough that her shoulder brushes yours. The sunlight catches in her auburn hair, already half-tangled from the wind.

She tilts her head toward you, a small hopeful smile forming. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she admits softly. “It’s much too warm to stay inside today…”

Her fingers fidget in her lap before she glances up at you again, blue eyes shining with that familiar trust and affection. “Would you… would you braid my hair?” she asks gently. “You always do it so nicely. And maybe you can tell me another story while you do… one of your adventures.”

She leans a little closer, waiting patiently for your answer.