A Holiday by Decree
~~ Day 3 ~~
"My, how interesting - it's also my first time to see a pipe like this," he examined the stem, before indicating for Sansa to take it and try the first pull.
She smiled, gesturing back to him, and Tyrion took in her bemused but curious expression with interest. "I may have suggested it, but having never done it, I would like the chance to watch you first," she explained.
Tyrion chuckled a bit. "As usual, it seems I've made it out like I know what I'm doing– but since it may please you, I will gladly make the sacrifice."
Trying not to think of how Sansa closely regarded him now, he sipped his tea and put his lips to the bit. Tentative at first, he gradually inhaled. The pipe water burbled from his pull, small waves compared to the huge, crashing waves of the ocean on the beach below them.
He knew it was possible for an initial inhale to come as a harsh surprise. Yet, cool, mildly sweet smoke and vapor entered his passages, and he realized the sip of tea had been unnecessary, though he liked the way the mint and spices danced over his tongue.
The billowing white cloud he released dissipated softly in the setting sunlight. Calmly, he looked back at Sansa.
"That looked rather studied, if you ask me," Sansa commented playfully, and Tyrion couldn't help but smile while brushing vapor from his beard, just relieved that he had apparently avoided the chance of choking and looking like a fool.
"It's quite nice - you may like it. I think the herbs and spice are smooth enough not to require it, but the tea does taste excellent with the smoke," he offered her the hose again.
Sansa's long, delicate fingertips brushed his when she took the stem from his hand. His skin continued to buzz, as he took up his tea cup causing her to do the same.
"Let's see how this is then," she said, and having taken a swallow of her tea, she put the bit to her lips as well. A moment later, the water burbled briefly.
As Sansa released the smoke from her nose and mouth, her deep blue eyes followed the small white clouds drifting up and away in wonder, but Tyrion's eyes were only drawn to her once again.
Unfortunately for him, his fragile, lonely heart had clutched onto what his mind already knew: the once captive girl from the North, whom he had come to care for and place his cape around, had grown into a free, strong woman full of mysteries - mysteries he would likely wish to get to know until his dying day.
Clearly pleased with herself, Sansa's eyes met his again, obviously unaware that when she passed the pipe stem, it would mean Tyrion's surrender to his heart.
He put the bit that had touched her lips back to his own, even so.