eachdraidh | (seventh lemon cake) video ✧ (sorta) open to both courts

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(seventh lemon cake) video ✧ (sorta) open to both courts

( SEELIE ONLY )

I -- [ hmm. sansa presses her lips together and wonders (briefly) whether it is a foolish request in the face of war. and yet she pursues it for an honourable cause. she wishes to gather certain tales for certain purposes. ] I want to hear stories. Stories of grand adventures undertaken by brave Seelie heroes. I cannot be the only one who's struck by such curiousity. Please -- share what you've learned.

[ and for every legend well-told and well-lauded she will make a point to include it within a very...pointed celebration in treun. perhaps encouraging even the shardless to think upon the bright bold tales of the seelie court will further endear that court to their hearts. it's a little like letting the right song be played at the right moment, falling upon the right ears. she wants to inspire treun -- or else certain parts of it -- to think more kindly on caer glaem. and she needs fellow shardbearers to help her. ] Tell me of the Seelie court's fabled champions and its well-mourned martyrs. What have you heard recounted by the hearth-side? Whispered on the road? Stories even the natives have told for centuries, mayhaps.

( BOTH COURTS )

[ some hours later in the day an 'accidental' feed broadcasts. it consists of the locket falling open and catching sight of a pile of books. sounds of rustling. a cleared throat. and at long last a mild: ] Seven have mercy. What a troublesome thing you are and how -- [ sansa addresses the locket she had flipped open on purpose, pretending to be clumsy. this is a quiet way in which to invite conversation with those she might not otherwise feel brave enough to seek out -- unseelie friends, soon separated from her by a roiling oncoming war. ] -- How stupid of me.

[ a novice ruse! however, she has such an earnest and gentle face it might just be worth believing by most, if not by all. ]

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[His own backdrop is not of a stone ceiling either, but the familiar sight of the castle bailey in Caer Glaem. He's retired from the forge, but not yet returned to the Cothromach for the night.]

So that means collecting stories? You going to put them in a book or something? [He's at least picked up that she's intending to do something with what she learns.]

What good would they do in a book? [ look at all ser gendry has taught her! once, perhaps, she might have thought to bound it solely in a book and consider it work well done. but there are minds and hearts she wants to touch who will not be able to read. she understands that now. no -- something more expressive is required. ] I thought perhaps I might find worthy tale-tellers and singers to share them for me.

Bards. [He says the word with the natural disdain any hardworking craftsman had for those who plied their trade in gaining favors with song and wit and gaining comfort for so little effort.] Aye, they'd serve well enough. Most folk would be gladder of a good statue instead. You get shade from those, at least.

Statues take too long to build; we haven't the time.

[ she says, mistaking his grumbling for a serious suggestion. ]

Aye, as you say. So you mean to write these songs, then? All about... old, dead heroes?

Me! Write them? I don't believe I ought to. I -- I couldn't.

[ old dead heroes. ] But someone will. And I will pay. I know it sounds stupid--

[ after all, she's already had one scolding on the matter. ]

[He gives it serious thought, in fact. It did sound stupid, yet he knew what she was there for. And given that in mind...]

When the septons wanted us to be more religious like, they'd tell us of those like Baelor or others what kept the faith and did good by it. It didn't matter to us if we knew what they were doing. It was heroes of the faith they told us about. So, if you want folk to think the Seelie are decent... [He shrugs visibly.] Better they hear of some dead folk than hear about the living. The dead aren't like to go and ruin their reputations doing something stupid.

[ she knows that once -- at least once -- the whole of the seven kingdoms had been nudged onto a certain path by virtue of a song. a story: one they all knew well enough, but which had to be recounted again at just the right time. this is what fantasy has turned into for sansa stark. she delights in its diversion when she's allowed. but they were weapons too. sparks to start the flame. ]

Or if they ever did, we have all graciously forgotten the worst of their sins.

Mayhaps we did. So you think that will work? Make them fond of old heroes so they'll think the lot of us are decent?

[He was dubious, even if he'd recognized it for what it was. But then, Gendry liked to think that smallfolk like himself were more clever and discerning than they really were. Gendry might have grown wiser of late, but it was the influence of Sansa, his uncle, and others that gave him cause to expand his narrow ways of thinking.]

It may persuade a handful to join the effort. And that is better than if none do so. Isn't it?

It might do well enough. [He'll agree to that, at least. It's better than what he would do, most likely.] Does that mean you'll be returning soon?

Soon. [ she confirms. ] A handful of loose threads remain to be tied. But I -- I don't dare stay away for much longer.

Your brothers will be glad for that. I'm sure Jon and Bran will be glad to see the three of you returned.

[... to say nothing of himself.]

[ she wants to ask whether they've been good to him. welcoming, still. but perhaps that would betray too much sentiment.

far too much, at least, to be spoken over the locket. ] I miss them, also. I wish Bran could have...[ a beat. ] Treun would have fascinated him, I think.

Might be he'll still get a chance. He don't have to stay in the Cothromach all the time, does he? [He knows the boy is a cripple, but surely that doesn't mean he has to be stranded.]

He would need someone to carry him. It isn't an impossible thing, I suppose. But I wonder --

[ i wonder how bran feels about it. sansa wrinkles her nose. ] He will like the stories I bring back.

[Gendry remembers a boy not so much older than Bran is now who needed carried. He hadn't been there when it happened, but Hot Pie had told him how Lommy had told a soldier he would have to be carried. He got a spear in the throat for that.]

Might be I'd like to hear them as well. We're near finished with our other book of stories.

Come, now. You'll soon but barely need me to go through such tales. Tell me: can't you do it on your own?

[ she has no intention of giving up their lessons. and she would be trying to trick him into thinking he couldn't do without her if she wasn't so nearly certain he wanted to keep them as well. ]

If I'm keen to bungle it up. I can't be expected to remember all of it.

[And perhaps half his mistakes were intentional these days, or soon would be. He was no quick reader, but he had picked up enough to manage. In truth, all he needed now was practice to refine the skill. But he was not the sort who would gain practice all on his own.]

You will. [ remember. ] I did, once. And if I can? You can.

Aye, only you've had longer for it. Years, I'd think.

[ is that a chuckle? maybe. or at least a mild cough stifled with hands against her lips. ] You ought not count the years that came after I'd already learned. That's cheating.

Is it? Mayhaps it's cheating you've had so much longer to learn. [It was not meant to be accusing, though there it was. He'd hardly had the opportunities she had.]

[ sansa picks a strange ground upon which to defend herself. how easy it would be to agree and apologize! but instead: ] I learned earlier. Not longer. There is a difference.

[Once, he knew, she'd have not bothered to argue at all. Even if he does not wholly agree, he can be glad that she doesn't simply oblige him.]

A difference of years, no matter which way you care to look at it.

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