middaeg | (no subject)

Who: Oliver Queen and Sansa
Where: a small eatery in town.
When: Today
What: Oliver and Sansa meeting again post full moon.
Rating: TBD
Open? No.

Oliver smiles to himself as he sends a message to Sansa, then heads out toward the eatery he has set up for their meetup. He is nervous, and is dressed casually, but in new clothing, a set that has taken in his new slightly increased size and bulk, and is pleasant in both dark and light greens. He is nervous as he walks, considering that he wants to meet her not just for talking about things, but also for talking about how he feels, and how she feels, and if they are both still interested in getting to know each other better.

It is weird, to him. He has never approached any kind of relationship this way. Usually, it has been either dive in and kiss the girl like Laurel, or flirt like Felicity, or awkwardly avoid it until the other person kissed or flirted or approached him like with Laurel and Sara the second times, or jump right to sex like with Sara the first time. And this is no ordinary thing either. It is not romantic or sexual, but instead a thing of convenience and trust. And friendship building before anything else is considered.

It is both more relaxing and more nervous-making than anything else he has known. So as he approaches the restaurant, he finds himself checking his clothing and hoping this goes well.

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That small smile made him smile a little too, and he started in on his food feeling a little more directed and a little more centered. He had a plan, and he hoped it would work.

And maybe even give him a chance to make things better, for others and himself.

"I hope you can, and I will do all I can to do the same, and to help you, if I can."

He watched her as he ate a little, thinking, then nodded. "Do you like green?"

"You can protect the people, and I will make sure we are heard," she said with a more natural smile now, feeling a little more resolved herself. It was good to build allies here as hard as it was to trust anyone. Oliver at least felt similar to her. He wasn't doing this for notoriety or personal gain.

"It was House Tyrell's colors. Now there are none left after Queen Cersei had the place they were staying in blown up." That was the rumors. She felt for her friend, Lady Margaery who had shown her a kindness when no one else had.

"Stark colors are grey and white. But I do not dislike the color green. It is not a color Northmen see a lot of."

"That sounds like a good plan. This sort of thing works best with teams, and people who each have something they are good at. And a passion for the job." There is a soft almost chuckle.

"I've made mistakes, and I hope I can use what I've learned to help those here." He nods, as he looks to her.

He winces at he hears that. "Green has always been my color, since I was, in a way, reborn." He rubs his face, the ever so soft, and nearly invisible fur there making him itch occasionally. But he still thinks of that motion when he feels like he has ideas that need coaxing out.

Then he smiles just a little a shy smile, as he glances up at her. "Grey and white are good colors as well."

“We have all made mistakes,” she replied lightly, eyes flickering up from her meal to look back at him. She would always blame herself for her father’s death. It was a harsh lesson to learn even as young as she was at the time. She thought she knew who she could trust.

His terminology was not something he understood and cocked her head as she chewed lightly on another bite of meat. When she finished she asked, “How is one reborn?”

Unless Oliver somehow followed the Drowned God which she did not think was possible.

He nods, catching her look. And some small part of him noting how the light catches her eyes. He shoves that thought away and focuses on how they talk. That look, he thinks, tells him she feels the weight of mistakes, too. One more way they are similar.

He hesitates, but then nods. "When I was... about ten years younger than I am now, I was a lot more foolish, a lot more arrogant. I did a lot of things without thinking how they would affect others, and hurt a number of people. And then, when on a cruise on a boat with my father, the ship was wrecked in a storm, and I was lost, alone, on an island, for most of five years. The island, and all I went through there, changed me, cut away a lot of who I had been, and made me a different man."

One hand dips below the table and put of his ever present bag comes the hood. Green fabric, cleaned and pressed many times, but still strong. It was a green hood and mantle, the top of his normal outfit, and he held it almost reverently.

"This was a gift from a mentor there, who taught me to be my own man, but more, to be a fighter, and one who always did his best to defend those who needed it, before all else." He nods to her and the puts the hood away again.

"In a way, the Oliver Queen who I had been died when the boat was sunk, and a new one was born."

Her attention was completely on him, the way he talked when he told her some of the more personal parts of his life. His demeanor was hard, but open. She could tell he was being honest with her in sharing this. Her eyes looked down at the hood, and she's reminded of the tales of mysterious knights who seemingly save the day.

"You are a brave man, Oliver. We have not yet been here long, but I would thing this city would need you just as much. "If there is anything you need from me to get this done, please let me know."

It was hard to comment on what he had gone through, but it was clear she felt for him. She was just a rich girl who thought she knew everything before Joffrey took her father's head. Everything had changed her, too.

"I hope I can, and I hope I am as brave as you think I am. I do not always feel it." But he would try. He felt like he was on a coarse to do something good now.

He felt better, and he smiled at her a little more surely.

"You inspire me, with your bravery and your honor. Thank you, Sansa."

He found himself reaching out for one of her hands, then stopping. "Ah, I do not mean to be presumptuous."

His cheeks were a little pink.