PROMPT: Nathaniel and Sigrun have a bonding moment regarding her chronic poverty (and his temporary one).
The hunger was something Nathaniel never quite grew accustomed to. It rumbled in his stomach, a constant reminder of times less pleasant. He started to make a habit of sneaking to the Keep's larder late at night to devour and horde away with scraps he could without notice. He wished to forget the past and not relive portions of it on a daily basis.
One night, unlike the others, he heard the rustle of baskets and crates within the larder. The slow prying open of the door revealed Sigrun foraging through the stocks. The pockets of her tunic overflowed with bread, potatoes and hunks of cheese.
Before he could turn tail and walk away, she caught a glimpse of him in the doorway. Unapologetic she rolled her shoulders in shrug. "Rainy day fund," she explained. "You never know."
Her motives were his motives. He silently moved into the larder and proceeded to take his portion of the food-treasure. "You never do. But perhaps we should say nothing of this?"
Teeth tore into a huge chunk of bread, sheering fragments off in a hearty tug. Crumb covered lips spread in an easy grin. Sigrun says, "I'll take this secret to my grave."
The line of Nathaniel's brow arced upward. "But aren't you already 'dead'?"
Another bite but that same grin persisted, "Oh yeah…Guess you'll just have to trust me then, eh?" She nudged his arm with her shoulder as she passed by him. And if he had not known better, he could have sworn she even winked.