racingtothesun:

              _{❝— M’lady, I have — Ah — this.❞}

                               _{The inventor pulled out a tiny songbird  done in the
                               fashion of a robot. He  did  not know  who she is, and
                               the noble  he  was  supposed to  give  it   to…  died.}

                                               _{❝If you w i s h to have it, that is.❞}

:: 〖 ❣ 〗――— ::

                 It is         в є α υ т ι ƒ υ ℓ       
      in the way fragile things, imbued
      with emotions, are beautiful. An
      impeccable level of craftsmanship,
      even fingers as slender and gentle
      as hers hesitate to touch.

                            Blue eyes dart from hand to
                   face, taking in the rugged features
                   of a handsome man underneath his
                   beard. He is older than she and the
                   gift is beautiful but Sansa is no lady.

            ＡＬＡＹＮＥ      ＳＴＯＮＥ .

                   "I’m a f r a i d you have me 
             mistaken for one of nobler birth.
             I’m no lady, ser– and your gift is
             far too beautiful for the likes of me.“