eachdraidh | CALLING A MEETING | LOCKED TO SEELIE

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CALLING A MEETING | LOCKED TO SEELIE | FORWARD TO 6/02

Lords, ladies, knights, and other honoured guests of the castle... I am Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, who joined your company as of the feast day which passed only days prior.

[ He looks a little haggard, dark circles grown under his clear eyes; but much improved from the worry-pinched figure who had spent much of the feast hunting for his family. ]

We have been brought from many disparate worlds for the purpose of this war, the War of the Shards; expected to cast our lots in the fighting at the behest of generous but poorly-evidenced monarchs. And the castle staff itself, while similarly generous and no doubt goodhearted, can offer us only so much information or direction. I have requisitioned the library and some of the attached study-rooms to hold a great conference of us, beginning at midday tomorrow. At this conference, I mean to make an accurate and detailed accounting of:

Our names, talents, and intentions regarding residence at the castle and regarding the war. It's my aim that all of this be made public knowledge, so that those of like mind can easier meet and plan with each other. Some of the study-rooms in the library will be marked for this purpose; for those wanting to remain in the castle but abstain in the war, those willing to make war all together, and also a room for those wanting to depart the castle.

[ He exhales a breath, frowning a little. ]

I've commissioned a clerk who I will be posted with at the door, who will record the information of those willing to give it as they enter. By no means is anyone obligated to breathe a word about themselves, or to attend. Those who desire a copy of the final manuscript may request one at their leisure.

For myself, I distrust this place and its people; what manner of monarchs call upon untested children, even girls, to battle in a war they have no stake in? Pulls them sleeping from their beds?

[ His jaw clenches, but he'll tamp back on the tirade in the interest of efficiency. ]

Having been brought to the castle in the manner as I have, am for a short while reliant upon its goodwill. Given our shared circumstance, I believe that there are none we can afford to trust as much as each other. So, if you're willing, I beg you attend, if only to add your name and intentions to the lists, that others who intend likewise may reach out to you-- and you to them. There are few men or beasts that live long or successfully relying only upon themselves.

Good day to you.

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You say that as though I did not offer you aid, Lord Stark. I remember my offer just as well as you, I'm sure.

You mistake my meaning, Lord Renly. My faults lay at no man's feet but my own. Correcting them, likewise, is a duty only I may bear.

Duty, honour... Do you not think, perhaps, that the time for those things has passed?

They have never passed. Will never pass, not by my reckoning.

And is that not your greatest failing, my lord?

I'll never regret that I'm a dutiful man who guards his honour.

I'd say it's my greatest failing was to... was that I failed to protect my children. That I expected other men to act on the same principles.

Yes, your foolishness lead to far too much. Tell me, do you know what fate fell to your wife and eldest?

[You were cute, Renly. Sigrid feels sick, because it seems to her that she was being too silly falling for his casual charm when he's really no different from the people who slander her father. Bard only ever wanted the safety of his children, too, but somehow his blood was more important in the way people saw him, for better or for worse. Friends of the Master would say such horrible things, shaming him not only for the failing of his ancestor, but for the death of his wife, and even for trying to raise three children by himself when he "ought" to send them to live with their mother's relatives. So much false pity and concern over the well-being of children they did not really know disguised the malicious intent. They liked putting Bard in his place, as if it made them secure to dress down someone who might have been a lord in another life.

Lord Stark has been so very kind to her, and reminds her of her own father in so many ways. If Renly does not speak with the gloating voices of the Master's friends, she hears them anyway, and her face and ears grow red.]

Stop! You stop it!

[ Renly's eyes flicker over her and he shakes his head, leaning closer to the camera. ]

No, Sigrid. Lord Stark needs understand the folly of his actions, and what they lead to.

[ Of course he has no idea about her father or anything of it; he shakes his head, earnest, just as he was with Stark; earnest but serious, unconcerned about the way he might look to Eddard himself. ]

Lord Stark may be my dear friend but that does not excuse his folly. That and the duty of telling him his future - the lives that his children lead after his death - was given to me by another. I swore I would bear that burden and I will bear it well. I will not be silenced.

[The worst ones are the ones pretending they're the long-suffering ones while your family fights its uphill battle unaided. Like they're more pained by your problems than you are. She can't talk to him anymore. The locket snaps shut.]

[ Ned leaned back a little from the propped-up locket, looking up to Sigrid where she sat across the table from him. Agony is writ 'cross his features, clear as day, fear--

But also resignation. They're hardly alone in the big library, and he draws himself a little straighter in his seat. So much has happened already; Sansa is Alayne, Jon is Lord-Commander, and he knows that every tongue has traipsed carefully around the cutting edge of truth, of full and honest truth.

He feels like an oak under the axe; and Sigrid's sharp voice risen in defense of him makes him shudder. In it, he hears an echo of Sansa's cry--

One of his broad weathered hands reached across the table to her, palm up, needing something to ground him. ]

I must hear it.

[ It's just a whisper, hoarse with the great depth of pain his features show only in part. ]

Not from him. [Her tone begs him.] He doesn't care. Please, my lord, don't hear it from him.

Edited 2014-06-03 15:01 (UTC)

I know not who else could tell me. And I must know.

[She sits silently by, face turned away, trying not to listen to the news as it comes to him. She can still hear, and tears come to her eyes and cool there without dropping. She had no idea it was going to be that bad. It only inflames her anger, that such news be delivered across a menial distance when it could have been given in person. She wishes she could punish Renly like a misbehaving child for this, but the deed is already done.

Poor, poor Sansa. If she knows about this, she must be devastated. Sigrid knows the loss of a mother, and she knows the sight of a grieving father.

When silence falls, Sigrid takes a deep breath, holds it for half a second, and releases it, hand rising to dash the tears from her eyes.]

I am sorry, my lord. [It's an actual apology, not a sentiment or condolence. She stands.] I will find Lady Arya and bring her to you.

[ He looks up, but seems not to see her; his pale eyes look blurred and blind through the tears that do not fall from them, and it seems that in so many words, decades have piled on his brow, his shoulders. ]

I...

... yes. I'd be grateful for it.

[ It'll give him a moment, at least, to weep in something like peace; and Sigrid is gentle enough that he trusts her with the task. ]

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kingsdaughter - 2014-06-03 17:23 (UTC) - Expand

[ this look forever.] What happened to them?

It might be best to speak in person, my lady.

No! Tell me. Tell me what happened to them?

[ He bows his head; he did warn her, he tried. ]

Both were killed by the Lannisters. Your brother and your mother.

[ her eyes widen in shock. she already had a deep, sickening feeling that they were dead but that doesn't make it hurt any less. she takes in a sharp breath before she turns off the locket, slamming it down on the table.]

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impeaches - 2014-06-03 14:24 (UTC) - Expand

[ Ned leans back a little, leans briefly out of view of the locket. Very obviously steeling himself. His eyes, though, are as open and honest as ever they'd been, open windows into his welling grief. ]

I do not.

Would you have me tell you now?

[ His jaw clenches, he inhales a breath... but he nods. ]

Aye.

Your son, from what I have been told, took up title of King in the North once your death reached Winterfell. He then promised himself to the Freys in order to receive access to their bridge - a terrible idea, really, but an idea none the less.

[ It's quite a grusome tale; forgive him for his casual nature. He doesn't want to dwell on it, really, not if he can. ]

But he had another, I believe, and wedded her out of duty. [ See where your Gods forsaken duty gets you all, Starks? Renly shakes his head, nose wrinkling a little. ] The Freys were, understandably, rather upset when they heard. They invited your boy and your wife to dine with them, wedded one of their daughters to his uncle and then had a feast - with guest rites, of course. All very formal and fitting, until the Freys took their knives and slit your lady wife's throat.

[ It's not as though there is a roundabout way to say it; Lady Catelyn Stark is dead and hiding the nature of her death would only lead to Eddard asking more questions of Renly. He's not fool enough to think otherwise. ]

They then took your son's head from his shoulders and threw Lady Stark's body into a river where she lay until Beric Dondarrion exchanged his life for hers and allowed her to come back as Lady Stoneheart, a woman desperate for vengeance.

[ This fills in much that had gone unsaid; he ducks his head, pressing one hand over his eyes, to support his forehead.

It's a moment before the hand drops; but he doesn't she from Renly's gaze, though he looks several shades paler and... a little ill. ]

Lady Stoneheart.

[ Once, he'd wondered, what he might do, what they might do if-- ]

Bran? Rickon? Arya? Sansa? Jon, at the Wall?

Tell me all that you know, please.

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impeaches - 2014-06-03 22:49 (UTC) - Expand

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fatherlordandfool - 2014-06-07 23:13 (UTC) - Expand

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CALLING A MEETING | LOCKED TO SEELIE | FORWARD TO 6/02

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