A Holiday by Decree

~~ Day 8 ~~

The next morning, the day broke rainless but a bit too cool for an early swim.

First awake, Tyrion conveyed a message for Sansa and went to the central courtyard with his sketchbook. To the sounds of birdsong and burbling fountain, he sketched the birds in the aviary.

It wasn't long before the housekeeper, Jesa, greeted him. As she brought coffee, Tyrion welcomed the relaxed routine they were falling into; it was going to be very difficult to leave eventually for many reasons. He felt ashamed he had been anxious to flee before but then told himself to enjoy the "now".

The groundskeeper, Bisaam, came by too. Humming, he gently tended the aviary. Between cleaning the cages, he happily showed off certain of his birds; the little creatures perched happily in Bisaam's hands to Tyrion's amusement and the improvement of his sketches.

When Sansa entered the courtyard to join them, Bisaam joined Tyrion in greeting her warmly. Soon enough, she sat stroking the same brindle-feathered pigeon that had warmed to her before. Bisaam simply grinned, as the bird preened briefly before lowering and fluffing its head for pets. Then, the groundskeeper withdrew to tend the courtyard plants.

Tyrion and Sansa took their coffee at a leisurely pace, and he continued to sketch while she gently rubbed the bird in her lap.

"Is she asleep?" Sansa finally asked softly.

Tyrion glanced up. The bird's head was lowered, beak rested on its fluffy bosom. Its eyes were thin slits. "Not quite but close," he smiled, looking back down.

As he did, Sansa reached out to pick up one of the pages that had come free of the stitched binding of Tyrion's sketchbook. She had already looked at this set of sketches, but his heart swelled a bit as she picked them up again between delicate sips of her coffee.

"These really are good, Tyrion," she repeated. "Of course, I learned eventually that you designed Bran's special boyhood saddle, but I had no idea you could draw like this."

A moment later, he caught his fan leaning - as much as she could with an almost-sleeping pigeon on her lap - and craning her head in his direction. He tutted, playfully leaning his sketchbook away. "It's not done - also, you mustn't disturb your feathered friend. And yes, the drawing skills apparently aren't well-known trivia about 'the Imp'," he joked, catching an odd look from Sansa, though it was gone quickly.

Rather, Sansa's gaze roved curiously over his double dry sink diagram, inadvertently left in the pile on the table. His heart stuttered.

"Did it take a lot of time to get this good?" she asked.

Tyrion's expression stiffened reflexively. Sansa's question had evoked unexpected emotion.

"Oh, I suppose - or perhaps I just developed a unique keenness of eye - you see, I spent my early life as more of an observer than a participant in things," he said, pushing through the vulnerable moment before turning his sketch toward his unknowing subject.

"It's done," he said.

:::

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year, dear readers! There will be a couple week delay until the next chapter due to the holidays. See you all in 2024! ❤️