eachdraidh | CALLING A MEETING | LOCKED TO SEELIE

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ His expression is still stern and thoughtful, but the heart in his chest twists a little.

And that's the way of the world. Men devouring each other.

The thought is cruel and cutting, plucking at the shabby-feeling tatters of his ideals. The mantle they'd used to be seems precious thin now. ]

I care.

And, no, I don't mind. I'd rather an earnest answer and a hard truth than a pleasant deception.

Then perhaps you are a good man. Or perhaps you are rich enough to care, Monsieur.

[Eponine smiles bitterly.] It is well if you have that luxury, and perhaps it is so that your daughter is lucky. Perhaps she will not survive such a world as the one I know. Can she learn quickly, or is she a stupid girl, Monsieur? She will perhaps be better if she is quick - my sister, 'Zelma, she is a stupid girl. Always she drops our letters and we end up running, running, running from the bogies, or she squeals when she touches the hot meat and the stall man spots us and we must run again. I hope your daughter is not like that for your sake, Sir.

[ His expression closes, his eyes shutter, the light in them dulling. ]

A queer and sad sort've wisdom. I think my daughters clever; each after their own fashion. Cleverer than I, at least, and blessedly so.

Answer me, if you like: have you found honest occupation, within the castle?

No... [She lowers her eyes. Already she has cheated two men of their money - or a tuppence and a bullet.]

People do not employ women like me, Sir. They are afraid we shall rob them or spread lice to 'em.
[There's no bitterness in her tone, just a resigned finality.]

[ He recalls Baelish, and Baelish's voice, the smug, self-satisfaction... ]

A wolf in winter will do what it must to live; but men make winter for each other.

Can you ride?

[She ignores that. She doesn't understand, so she ignores it. The question though, brings forth raucous, grating, hoarse laughter.]

Ride what, Sir? A horse? Are you mad? Sir, do you think I am allowed near a horse? No - the nearest I have been is beneath their paws. Sir, you must have money for a horse. I have no money even for me to fill my belly. So hungry am I, and cold. You know, I walk barefoot in the snow whilst the rich sit wrapped up on a horse and splash me all over with sludge so I am soaking. It is not fair. But you are mad to ask it.

[ He seems amused, his brows rising towards his hairline; and those with a clever knack for reading expression might see the light and laughter in his eyes, though his expression is staid and unsmiling. ]

Would it have been so mad if you'd made your living as a horsethief, or had a crop-sharer for a father and a plowhorse to lead before seeding?

[ He rubs a little at his bearded jaw, gone thoughtful. ]

If you'd like to learn, I'm instructing another young lass- serving at present as my Clerk, Sigrid- how to care for the beasts, and ride them well enough. We mean to meet mornings, before the sun crests the eastern battlements.

I do not know a horse thief, Monsieur, who walks in such rags as these.

[Eponine plucks at her clothes with a laugh, showing off rotten and missing teeth. But at Eddard's offer, Eponine's expression grows darker, and mistrust is evident in her face.]

Why should you teach a woman such as me to ride? Men such as you don't bother with women like me, unless you're slipping me a Franc for an hour or chasing me from your doorway.

[ He rubbed at the side of his neck, mouth twisting. ]

We could say 'women such as you' or 'men such as you' or 'places like this' or 'times like these' until we're blue in the face and hoarse with it. Whatever sort've lass you were, from whatever place, or time, you're here now. Torn away from aught familiar, like unto me. I thought at first that I'd come to the land beyond death.

I don't trust the monarchs here, or their folk, or their words; and I certainly don't trust their war. I'd sooner trust a thief who'll tell me she's a thief and be done with it. I offer to teach you because you've forthrightness and good sense, and I'd like to take better stock of you than through this picture-glass. Come or don't come; your time's your own.

((Ooc: actually, I like a lot of the main characters. Even Sansa. I like Dany's dragon wggs - I'm itching for them to turn into dragons for real . I find it a bit hard going though. It doesn't command my attention.))

[Oh. Eponine fidgets. His words are wise, of course. But she is one for clinging to the past - for without it, who is she? It worries her, the wide world. It 's why she stayed with her dad, despite everything. But she nods, still uncertain.]

I will be there, Sir. But if it's a joke... Well, perhaps your pockets will be the lighter for it.

< small>[ She's not joking.]

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Awwww I just finished his narrative bit :(

:) How do you like it, so far!?

Complicated at first. Still getting characters mixed up. I like Arya and Bran