Okay, so this isn't exactly what he was expecting, but since what he was expecting was to be pulled from the dungeon of the Red Keep and hauled off to his execution, he's not going to complain. He might seem like he's not paying attention to the prattling of the apprentice, but years of being the lord of Winterfell have given him much practice at listening to someone talk while also being able to pay attention to his surroundings. And as the lord of Winterfell, he knows how important it is to understand the relationships between people. Otherwise a balance cannot be found.
Nor is he bothered at all by the chill in the air. Winter is coming, after all.
Logs
He doesn't look so out of place here, in the clothes they've given him, although stacking logs isn't exactly the work he's used to. He appreciates the need for everyone to chip in and make sure the work gets done, and he certainly wouldn't expect everyone else to do it all, but there are servants at Winterfell who do this sort of thing while he tends to his lordly duties. He doesn't have those duties here though, so he can enjoy having that weight removed from his shoulders and focus more on other things -- like helping to ensure that everyone stays warm this winter.
When he sees someone struggling to manage a large log on their own, he reaches out to grab one end of it to help tip it onto the growing pile on the back of a cart. "Allow me."
Seaside
This is the one place he's found so far that doesn't have him making comparisons with Winterfell. He knows there's shore around Westeros, but he hadn't seen it until he ventured out of the North, and even then, he hadn't spent much time there. He hasn't even visited the fair yet; he's simply been standing and looking at the vastness of the water stretching out before him.
He bends down to run his fingers along the sand, scoops up a handful, watches the wind carry it away. He's not in Westeros anymore, and as much as he feels like his duty is to his home, he knows that he can't do anything for Westeros anymore and the fate of the seven kingdoms are in the hands of others. He only hopes that all is not lost.
If only he had had a chance to say all that had needed to be said.
Eddard "Ned" Stark | Game of Thrones | Thorne
Okay, so this isn't exactly what he was expecting, but since what he was expecting was to be pulled from the dungeon of the Red Keep and hauled off to his execution, he's not going to complain. He might seem like he's not paying attention to the prattling of the apprentice, but years of being the lord of Winterfell have given him much practice at listening to someone talk while also being able to pay attention to his surroundings. And as the lord of Winterfell, he knows how important it is to understand the relationships between people. Otherwise a balance cannot be found.
Nor is he bothered at all by the chill in the air. Winter is coming, after all.
Logs
He doesn't look so out of place here, in the clothes they've given him, although stacking logs isn't exactly the work he's used to. He appreciates the need for everyone to chip in and make sure the work gets done, and he certainly wouldn't expect everyone else to do it all, but there are servants at Winterfell who do this sort of thing while he tends to his lordly duties. He doesn't have those duties here though, so he can enjoy having that weight removed from his shoulders and focus more on other things -- like helping to ensure that everyone stays warm this winter.
When he sees someone struggling to manage a large log on their own, he reaches out to grab one end of it to help tip it onto the growing pile on the back of a cart. "Allow me."
Seaside
This is the one place he's found so far that doesn't have him making comparisons with Winterfell. He knows there's shore around Westeros, but he hadn't seen it until he ventured out of the North, and even then, he hadn't spent much time there. He hasn't even visited the fair yet; he's simply been standing and looking at the vastness of the water stretching out before him.
He bends down to run his fingers along the sand, scoops up a handful, watches the wind carry it away. He's not in Westeros anymore, and as much as he feels like his duty is to his home, he knows that he can't do anything for Westeros anymore and the fate of the seven kingdoms are in the hands of others. He only hopes that all is not lost.
If only he had had a chance to say all that had needed to be said.