slayjoy:

          Asha isn’t certain what it is about
          the eldest living Starkling that has
          her so… uncertain. Maybe it was
          the effervescent manner of taking
          everything fate had dealt her in her
          stride, or the sweet false smile,
          trained in the Capital, of course.

               Getting up from her seat, Asha took
               a crumpled bag of bakers paper
               from her pocket, and handed it to the
               girl. “Candied ginger.” She explained
               brusquely. “An acquired taste, but it
               will settle your stomach.”

:: 〖 ❣ 〗――— ::

               It would be petty cruelty for
         them to leave Sansa with her rolling
         stomach– but Asha’s brother burned
         Winterfell, killed Bran and Rickon–
         cruelty is  ｅｘｐｅｃｔｅｄ.

               But she is not cruel, mayhaps
         brash, awkward and disinterested
         but not cruel. not yet. Sansa takes
         the proffered candy, murmuring a
         quiet word of thanks. As slender
         fingers carefully open the bag, her
         voice travels to speak to the lady.

                 "I don’t suppose I will be given
         the pleasure of knowing where it is
         we’re sailing to, lady Asha?“