❅ ( demure stranger ) ;

          She seems kinder than what the tales say… Sansa could not
             help but remember all she’d heard about the  frozen  hearted
             queen , about the  i c e  in her soul that shot out whenever
             someone would upset her. It was hard to imagine this woman
             to fit with that description, she seemed kind and gentle…
             Almost   w  a  r  m  .

          That meant Sansa couldn’t hold back her smile any longer,
             lightening up the space in between them, allowing herself
             to let her guard down and accept the other’s words as the
             truth. It was easier, was it not?

       ❝ Of course I don’t mind, I would be very flattered to accompany 
             the famed queen of Arendelle. ❞  It was so easy to smile next 
             to her. Yes, Sansa liked this queen of songs yet to be sung.

       ❝ Anna’s your sister, right? ❞
                                                            Sansa had memorized all she could about
                                                              the Royal House of Arendelle, the names,
                                                              the events, anything and everything that
                                                              could prove itself useful.

              Nothing beat being well prepared for what was ahead.

          Certainly that Anna was nothing like Arya. After all, princess
             Anna was a brave hearted princess who had gone after her
             sister and brought her back when the ice struck Arendelle.
             Arya would’ve probably just frozen herself.

{ ❅ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ——— 

          there  was  always  a  looming  worry  of  what her reputation
          had  become,  what whispers were exchanged from kingdom
          to kingdom.   perhaps  withdrawn  but  never  discourteous or
          ill-mannered   -   not   when  there  were  entities  at  work  to
          construe & sicken her renown. the merry band of miscreants
          from the Southern Isles were wolves at  Arendelle’s  borders,
          foam seeping from their jowls, rabid & ravenous to seize  her
          power.

                            it was crucial to battle their slurs  &  untruths  with  valiant
                            altruism  &  hospitality  to  slay misconceptions as knights
                            defeated  wicked  beasts.   with  a   nod,   the   monarch’s
                            stance opened further, allowing space for the girl to stand
                            at her side so their journey could begin.

                                                    ❝ very well. ❞

          as each step she took embodied the utmost grace, Elsa made
          certain her guest was following suit, as  if  their  footfalls  were
          choreographed to produce a fitting cadence. 

                        ❝ she is. —- but you must tell me more about yourself ?
                                                   a name, perhaps ? ❞

          a  title  would  be  useful  information  to  acquire  if  she  were  to call
          on this young woman again,  to  integrate  her  into  the  castle’s  way
          of life if her family so desired. she would make a fitting lady-in-waiting
          or continuous presence at court.