A Holiday by Decree
~~ Day 8 ~~
Tyrion admitted that a maester would know far more about saltwater than he did. Still, Sansa was again impressed by the breadth of topics he knew at least a bit about. She mostly kept her focus on the lesson, but she also felt very aware of her still growing attraction to Tyrion. His enthusiastic attention to detail was infectious, while his patient explanations and answers to her questions also helped put her at ease.
They discussed the basics of most swim-strokes. At first, Sansa grew concerned that, for many strokes, it would be necessary to take alternating turns with her face underwater. However, Tyrion showed her how they could stand in place to practice breathing and lowering their faces into the water to try blowing bubbles. It wasn't long before Sansa found herself laughing. After a few surely comical looking attempts on her part (if watching Tyrion do the same, beard and all was any indication), she was mastering the technique.
"What would my bannermen say, if they saw me doing this," she said in an ironic tone after coming up for air.
"Surely, nothing if they knew what was good for them, I imagine," he smirked, and she gave him a cheeky grin. They both knew the types of things most people probably said about them when they left a room. Nothing but a pair of murderers bowling bubbles in a pool, she mused with more laughter and thought about how she might find a way to joke about that with him later, as he led her to walk, stroking through the water, into the deeper end of the pool.
As the water had become too deep for him, Tyrion smoothly transitioned into a quasi-backstroke to continue speaking to her; surely there had to be very few who likely had any clue he was such a natural in the water, and she suddenly liked the thought of being one of those few. As they gripped the edge of the pool at the deep end, she was also struck by how even when they sat at table or elsewhere, he was always still shorter than her; however, here in the water, she liked that they were eye level, as they had been on the cushions the night they shared the pipe.
Distracted with imparting his lesson, Tyrion was understandably oblivious to Sansa's admiring looks. He showed her that she could hold the pool's edge with both arms and her body extended, while her legs kicked up and down.
Beside her, he continued to model the technique, smiling to encourage her form. She felt proud that she had managed each of the techniques that Tyrion had shown her. A rare sense of peace and satisfaction with herself washed over her. Gratefully, Sansa looked from the beautiful view of the ocean on the horizon to the kind, unusual man beside her, who was helping her know such new sides of herself.
