six names on the list » text » open to both courts

[aliased]

how do you kill a santy claws? [ because he's got a list. and he's stalking children. and he sneaks into people's homes while dressed in red. and he's clearly a drunk.]

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[aliased]

and he wears red.

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[steeledskin]

[ a systematic list of badly behaved children does strike a particular fear into sansa's heart -- not least of all for her sister's wayward sake, but for her own repeated shortcomings when it comes to impressing the powerful men of any world.

and red -- well! she frowns. it's hard to trust a man whose name is claws. a song tumbles about the back of her mind. ]

And yet if Stiles says... [ the sentence goes unfinished. she doesn't know what to think. ]

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[aliased]

[ the same song is in arya's ears.] i think he is confused.

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[steeledskin]

[ sansa has been so wrapped up in the wonder of yuletide music and decorations that she hasn't even come across this strange santy claws -- not yet, not until now. perhaps had he had some other introduction to the man she might explain him carefully to her sister.

but no. instead, their paranoia is given the chance to grow together. whatever else she thinks of arya, she's slowly decided not to dismiss her sister's judgement of character. after all, she'd been right about joffrey-- ]

I suppose it's possible. [ she just doesn't think it's likely. what a strange conundrum. ] Is he from...America, as Stiles is?

[ because those lands were straight up weird. ]

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[aliased]

[ the problem is that stiles had not explained santa claus as a monster to arya. she had been given an inch and taken a mile.] i do not know. i know that he goes all over the world. and he has magic.

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[steeledskin]

A sorcerer, then.

[ ugh. magic. of all the fairy-tale elements ever to exist, this is one sansa did not care for. ]

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[aliased]

he has to be.

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[steeledskin]

But can't someone else kill him?

[ someone who isn't you, arya. ]

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[aliased]

i am going to set nymeria on him.

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[steeledskin]

[ you know what? she ain't even bothered. ]

Good.

[ down with freaky red-clad sorcerers with lion-y names, tbh. ]

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[aliased]

don't want to stop me?

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[steeledskin]

I would want to stop you. Not Nymeria.

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[aliased]

[ then she better not say she intends to be there.] alright.

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[steeledskin]

If anything where to happen to you--

[ a sentiment shared before; she does not need to rehash it in full. ]

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[aliased]

nothing will happen. i will be alright.

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[steeledskin]

We are almost all of us here, now.

[ the children. the siblings. all but baby rickon -- though she's been assured their youngest sibling lives. even so, her stomach twists to think on him. and her meaning is somewhat plain: now that they are nearly all together again, they need to survive. remain. persevere. ]

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[aliased]

[ not rickon. or mother. or father. she wants to point that out but what's the use. sansa knows it as well as she.]

not all of us.

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[steeledskin]

No. [ her text echoes -- and if text could be saddened and heavy, then this text certainly is. ] Not all of us.

[ she'd meant the children, but arya's words give censure. there are a hundred different metrics by which, she feels, she's always failing: she can save a city (such as it is) but not gain her sister's approval. ]

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[aliased]

[ she doesn't mean to crush hope, she knows that her sister needs her spirits lifted. she is reminded of that by the words of many who instruct arya on how to better empathize.]

but you made us a home here. [ she's giving you props, sansa.]

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[steeledskin]

[ a pause. her gut reaction is a horrid one: to sharply suggest that she knows it isn't what arya wants -- that the younger girl had preferred caer glaem. that the cothromach, still, was not winterfell. and how could it ever be? even sansa, walking its cold underground halls, feels the absence of springs deep beneath the earth. she misses feasts draped in her family's colours.

she misses happiness.

instead, she tries to see arya's words as how they are intended: a raw familial kindness. ] It's all I ever want: as many of us together again as can be found. Regardless...

[ of life or death. of court. of argument. they are starks; they belong together. ]

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[aliased]

[ arya still prefers the castle to the keep, to be sure. but now that she knows it possible, she intends to ask for a favor just like gendry's a way to get to it whenever she pleases.

although she wishes she could travel anywhere with that speed.]

maybe the rest will come.

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[steeledskin]

I pray they will. I do. Arya -- was it you who asked for the weirwoods?

[ because she's asked her brothers and they haven't 'fessed up: only one stark remains. and it must be a stark, because she cannot think of anyone else who would care half so much for those precious trees. ]

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[aliased]

[ there's a long pause.] yes.

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[steeledskin]

They are beautiful. Perfect.

Thank you. [ for bringing a piece of home to this strange place. ]

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[aliased]

its what father would want.