(second lemon cake) video ✧ locked to seelie

[steeledskin]

Dear fellows and members of the Seelie court -- [ the voice which addresses the locket is composed and clear and perfectly conscientious. but the girl whose image accompanies the voice looks a little less than all those things. her dark-dyed hair is fastened in an uncommonly simple braid...and if one looks very closely, she can be seen to have a haggard look about her. she's somewhere outside and all her caution is bent at hiding a panic she doesn't want to share with strangers. nor with those few genuinely waiting on her return. ]

I don't want to alarm any of you. Indeed, I speak to the very opposite of that effect. It's -- [ her gaze flickers 'off-screen' for a moment ] -- it's Alayne Stone. Those of you who are acquaintances [ not friends ] ought to know that I've found myself...left behind. I'm sorry. It should not have happened. But I suspect I won't make Caer Glaem again for some time. [ the fault of the matter is a little trickier than that, but she knows better than to play with implications. so after a steadying breath, she presses onwards. ] Or we won’t -- because I'm not alone. [ i have nymeria, she thinks but doesn’t dare to say. just like how sansa wants to speak directly to those who know her for who she really is -- but instead: ] I have a knight with me.

Don't I, Ser Gendry? [ and she twists her locket, letting it capture the surly blacksmith who stands a few paces away from her with an irritated expression. his armour is dented and blooded and the man sags with an obvious exhaustion. ser gendry is a man who looks and feels beaten, but it does not stop him from standing tall. he is a talisman of sorts: a warning, to any sansa fears might prey upon what would otherwise be a journey fraught with vulnerability. ser gendry is here; she is protected, albeit not happily so. he at last looks towards her and her locket and grumbles an unhappy agreement to her statement, which is accompanied by a nod. ]

A lady needn’t despair when she’s so well accompanied. Instead, my thoughts are with the returned; I pray the High Queen’s desired prize was taken without steep costs or losses. [ following this, there is no formal farewell. no official sign-off. her attention lingers, perhaps waiting for one or two responses in particular. ]

( ooc; sansa and gendry are now officially stranded and making their long way back to caer glaem -- and it’ll take them at least two months, though they’ll be reachable by locket at their respective ic inboxes. but for now, responses to this post will receive replies from one or the other or both!)

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[locked to sansa & gendry]

[firith]

[ What do all you stranded kids think this is, a rock concert at 2AM? ]

Get yourselves on a southward path to the Station, that is the closest neutral ground you will find.

[ With his son also lost (wounded, abused and tortured) in Dorchadas, Thranduil responds via a voice-call, too busy dressing in his Elven armour from home and riding attire to bother with scrying. ]

It is also where Legolas is heading.

[ Which implies, well. ]

[steeledskin]

A southward path.

[ she repeats it; it is not a question. and she takes a heartbeat or three to look around her at guess at which direction might be south. gods, but she wishes she'd had the map with her. since when does sansa stark ever need to carry a map! ]

You son -- Prince Legolas, did he remain behind as well? I pray he's safe. [ alayne might say these words and only barely mean them; sansa says them and invests feeling into every syllable. ]

[firith]

I shall shortly be riding north to meet with him.

[ Take from that not-answer what you will. ]

Stay off the roads and do not trust the Elves in that country, no matter how fair of face they may be or how sweet their words. Instruct Gendry to be prepared to kill anything that approaches the pair of you.

[ Thrandad isn't even playing today, chilluns. ]

Do you have weapons?

[steeledskin]

[ his cool command of his emotions -- his even orders! they bring her a measure of comfort. and briefly (ungratefully) she wishes she had king thranduil as her protector and not a knight who seems best suited to scowling and treating her like some ill-omen. sansa knows she's to blame for being here -- but is it too much to expect some decent courtesy from ser gendry?

apparently so. ]

He is armed. [ short. succinct. sansa matches thranduil's tone. ] And even if I had a weapon, I don't -- I was never taught, your grace. But he is armed. I must put my trust in him.

[ funny, really. how she almost says that last line at a louder volume, as if desperate to show the knight she is eager to win his favour in this venture. ]

[firith]

Find an old tree, one that is brittle. I want you to take a branch and snap it so it is no longer than the length of your wrist to your fingers; it will come apart easily, use a stone if necessary. You can hide both of these on your person and use them to defend yourself against anything that gets too close. Put a little force behind the shaft and the dead wood will splinter as it drives in, doing more damage than a knife.

[ Simple, basic knowledge for any Wood-elf, but Sansa and Gendry haven't lived in the forests all their lives and she is not the type to wield a sword. Even so, Thranduil sees no reason why she ought to rely solely on someone else for her protection; a dangerous little dagger or two will give her some sway in an emergency, and after what that vile Feanorian did to Legolas ... ]

Drink from higher up on the streams if you can and if it rains, let one of your sleeves soak so that you may wring out the fresh water to quench your thirst should there be no other water sources nearby. Hunger is not so dangerous as feeling the sting of being parched.

How far are you from Caer Scima, Sansa, in your estimation?

[ Lady Stark dissolves when he uses her name directly for the first time, wanting her attention. ]

[steeledskin]

[ she sits still like a statue and absorbs every word -- a stone taking in water where a stone shouldn't be able to take in anything at all. but under that flinty surface she's no stone at all. a stark of winterfell. endurance is her lot, it seems. and she will endure this as she has endured other things. or so her belief rages in this very moment. in a day or three, her resolve will soften and slough away and she will grow to hate what she's being put through.

but today she's still eager to know something -- anything -- that might help. her silence stretches on a moment longer as if still etching his lessons to memory. ] A day's march, your grace. No. That's not right. I made him stop; I was tired. A day less some hours.

[ if it shocks her to be called only sansa, she doesn't let it show. ]

[firith]

[ They are very alike in some ways, the quieter type that seeks to survive. Perhaps that is why he favours her, this clever daughter of Men who took pride in her true name upon knowing when to give it back to herself. It is the way of kings to hardly notice the Your Graces and Your Majestys, too, while addressing others as the situation requires. ]

There is a very dangerous Elf in those woods by the name of Celegorm. Avoid him at any cost. To best hide from him and any of his kind when you need to rest, [ as well as you both can, ] try to sleep under over-hangs of banks and boulders. Lie to him and say you are lost, if you encounter this creature, for he considers that castle his very real home.

[steeledskin]

Celegorm. [ she repeats it as she's repeated every name and word he's given her that was not immediately familiar: carefully, respectfully, and with an aim to remember it in future. but today it is with some dismay; she'd rather hoped that elves were finer creatures in every individual of their race. that they might all be as stalwart and sheltering as he and his son are. ] I'll approach no strangers. I'll not treat with them. I swear it. I'm not fond of strangers.

[ ...she wonders whether she ought to warn him. join his warning with hers. ] There is a dangerous man, as well.

[firith]

Which man is this?

[steeledskin]

Jaime Lannister. He --

[ locked away in this smaller conversation, sansa might be able to confront a bit of the blame. a bit of why she and gendry never made it back. ] I ran when I heard he was near, your grace. I was craven, and now Gendry and I are lost.

[firith]

If you had true cause to flee, then you did well not to tarry for the sake of appearances. This man frightened you, whether he knew you were there or not, and I shall not forget his name.

[ Gendry can just deal with the situation. ]

Contact me with the lockets when you have reached somewhere safer. You ought to remain on the move for a while to put distance between yourself and the Unseelie.

[steeledskin]

My sister's wolf is with us. [ she says it quickly, as though guilty of letting it slip her mind in the midst of so much learning. her tone quiets a moment as she explains: ] Arya is back at the castle, but when she learned of the quest. She...the direwolf is very big. And very strong. We only wait for her to come back to us before we walk again.

[ and nymeria would come back. sansa doesn't doubt it. she only wishes she'd come back sooner. ] I didn't want to mention her to everyone else. [ but she'll mention her to the elvenking, who tries to hard to imbue sansa with useful things. there is little she wants to hide from him. ]

[firith]

I will not make mention of her. [ Any of Sansa's confidence, he will keep. ] I am glad to hear you have the direwolf with you and will on your journey back to Caer Glaem. I do not intend to return to the castle, once I meet with Legolas, though we may stay at the Station for a short time.

[locked to sansa & gendry]

[bullhorned]

Who's this Legolas?

[He knows the elf king. He thinks he's decent, as kings go. Which for Gendry, calling any monarch 'decent' is high praise for how much he dislikes them in general. He was content to let Sansa talk to the elf king, but the name niggled at his curiosity. His question was curt and lacking any due courtesies, even though he now knew Thanduil to be so highly born.]

[firith]

He is my son, the Prince of the Woodland Realm. If you encounter him, please offer your aid.

[ Not wanting to reveal too much about Legolas's current predicament, not when his child is so stalwartly concerned he has already shamed their family (silly elfling) and would not take well to letting others see him, Thranduil still wants very much for him to find good people who might lend aid. ]

He was wounded badly and is without his company.

[ Wounded horribly in the hora, but mostly at his fea. ]

[bullhorned]

[Gendry had enough trouble of his own. What he didn't need was some elf prince's trouble to be added to it. Thranduil had been kind enough to him, but that didn't mean he owed the king anything. Merely being a decent king didn't mean anything. His father had been a decent king, but what had that amounted to? A dead fool with a gored stomach.]

If I see him, I'll take him along with us. I don't know any sort of medicine, though. Best I can do is patch him up.

[firith]

He is capable of healing himself. What he requires is the fellowship of individuals whom he can trust. [ Pausing, he adds, ] Once he arms himself, he will be able to defend Sansa at your side, should you meet.

[bullhorned]

[A momentarily selfish thought crosses his mind. And the royal prince will be praised the hero. But even in his foul mood, he knows that's not knightly. He holds his tongue a moment before answering.]

M'lady would likely appreciate the help. It will be better than sharing a watch with a wolf.

[firith]

I will not be returning to Caer Glaem. Consider this a formal request that you will continue to protect her when you arrive back.

[bullhorned]

[When he arrives back. He frowns.]

She's under the protection of Renly Baratheon. Once she's made it back, it will be for him to look after her.

[firith]

I do not care about a man sitting comfortably in a castle while a young girl must be safely escorted through the wilderlands, where orcs and other foul creatures would as soon ruin her as eat her in the doing.

[ Kings of men can be noble, yes, but rarely do they actively wind up swinging a sword unless their line is of Númenórean descent. Somehow, he doubts this Renly is. ]

You are the one I am asking to do this, you are the one I wish to place my faith in. Your experience with actual threats will be greater by the time you return, more so than those playing at soldiers in a bailey.

[bullhorned]

[Strangely, he feels defensive of his uncle. He should be angry at Renly. In many ways he is. But that was for him to be spiteful for. Not some foreign king who didn't know a lick of the Seven Kingdoms. He stewed quietly.]

I've taken oaths, your grace. I've taken oaths to protect maidens. To protect the weak. So aye, I'll protect her. But only for that reason. I don't swear my sword to you or to the Starks. [Or to his uncles either. No, he is keeping his sword to swear to someone else, though he's torn between two queens for now.]

[firith]

I ask no fealty from you. As I said, this is a request.

[ There is one more thing. ]

Do you know of the Khaleesi?

[bullhorned]

What the hell is a Khaleesi? [Dothraki 101 was never covered in the Tobho Mott school for Apprentice Armorers. Go figure.]

[firith]

She is Daenerys Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons in her own tongue.

[ Because royalty schmoozes and gets along with exchanged favours, where it can. ]

If you see her, kindly remind her of what lies in the library of the castle awaiting her attention.