eachdraidh | first bull ( video )

[When first brought here, she would swear it all a dream. All that they said and all that they have her on the feast could only be a parting gift from the gods, Bacchus' treats, Ceres' grief of losing a daughter, Diana's farewell for losing a maiden soon enough. But she wakes in her bed, rises and dresses. There is no man that lies with her, there is no parting.

So here she stays alone, save for those she's had the good fortune of meeting. One certain knight she least hopes to see again, though the dream has broken and with it holds the reality, her reality.]

It seems we are in no dream, for I have pinched myself enough to believe it real. I am Lucrezia Borgia of Rome, a place I have found little have heard of. Nor even of my name who I once held with Pope Alexander VI before he was called to be the Shepherd of all men's souls. [She still cannot call herself Sforza. That taste is too bitter in her mouth.]

I address this-- locket [Yes, it is even strange to her, and she must back up a little to see better now.] as a means of addressing this war. I know little on the matter of strategy and battle. My brothers have been taught the skill of the sword, and yet here I am in their place.

A friend-- [For she would consider all those kind to her the night of the feast a friend.] --relayed the thought that perhaps those like I are here for morale, but truly this many ladies?

I shan't sit around. [Lucrezia may not be the Harold of charities she will become, but idleness here does her little.] I wish to make myself of use, though for what I am unsure.

I do truly hope to meet you all, and already call myself fortunate in those I have met. Good day.

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[ she gives only a curt nod to suggest that -- yes -- she knows of gendry. knows him; knew his father; knows his uncles. and had the world been a kinder place, he would have been the baratheon son betrothed to the stark daughter. not because she cared for him -- indeed, sansa thought he hardly mattered. but he'd be kinder than joffrey. more honourably, perhaps, than tyrion.

in the end, that's all she wanted. ]

It's not uncommon for Westeros, either, my lady. [ but her voice hesitates on the title. how curious, to meet a claimed natural born daughter. sansa decides to stop playing quite so coy: ] Bastards sit the Iron Throne, even.

[Gendry indulged her every request the night everyone had arrived, and she thought of him kindly since. He was not refined, but many men claimed to be so and were not half as kindly and noble as he was, whatever his social status is. He told her pieces of Westerosi life, enough for her to understand most of how things are run in their lands. So to hear this has her brow raised.]

Indeed? I am sure through guile, lies, and cunning if I am to understand your society. I can say that it is similar in The Italian city-states and the world at large. Though perhaps it is not so uncommon to bear children with other men's women. Men have started wars over such things as well. You may ask Helen of Troy on that. [A knowing smile, wondering if they had such a story where Alayne came from. If not, Lucrezia could probably recite Homer line by line.]

Helen of Troy?

[ ah, yes. it piques her interest. and she is happy enough to leave other topics behind: the possible-liar gendry, the bastardy of the kings, and her own ongoing falsehood. ]

It is a wonderful tale. [Okay, maybe not so, but she is excited to tell it.] This happened many years ago, in a land called Troy. It was said that Helen was the most beautiful woman there ever was, being the god of Zeus who was a great and powerful God of Greece. She was of Sparta, a city in Greece originally. She was the wife of King Meneleus, a brute of a man. Paris, a prince of Troy, looked upon her and stole her to Troy. Of course a man cannot be outdone so, and Meneleus pursued Paris to Troy itself where a great war waged, so big and well known that even the gods took sides. They said of Helen that she was the face that launched a thousand ships.

[ she knows stories like this. she's been raised on one in particular -- and so it cuts close to the bone, but she doesn't dare tell it. instead, she listens with patience and honest interest. and when lucrezia's tale is complete, sansa sighs as if she'd found the whole thing very imaginative and romantic.

but in the quietest part of her heart, she wonders whether her husband would ever pursue her. gods, she hopes not. not even world-famous beauty would be worth having if it meant such a chase. ]

...Whose side did the gods take, then?

Oh, they were split. It was a great thing to behold, as Homer had two epics about it.

The gods themselves? [ split? how unusual. only something from their first conversation tugs anxiously at her mind-- ] I thought...Lucrezia, you spoke as though god was a singular thing. Are there more than one, now?

No. There is only one God, but these are just stories told, of gods of the city some two thousand years ago. If not longer. [Religion has changed drastically since.]

[ how odd, she thinks, that one faith would perpetuate stories of another. perhaps it is as it was with the first men and the andals -- where one supplanted the other, except in certain places. but sansa doesn't have the words to ask.

so she asks something else instead: ] Do you have many of these stories?

Of the pagan gods? Or of war? I am sure I have both in droves. [Having been raised in Rome itself and literate herself, there are many stories she knows.]

Do you like stories, Alayne?

[ i did, once. ]

Very much. [ she smiles -- wide and indulgent. like when promising stories to little sweetrobin. ] But some days it feels as though I already know all the best ones. How exciting, to think there are whole worlds' worth of new stories to hear. You must do me the favour of telling more, in future.

[She pats her hand affectionately.]

I'm sure I will tell you many before our time here is done.

And I might tell you some in payment. Of the Dragonknight, perhaps. Or of Bran the Builder.

You have dragons as well? I met a queen here with three! [Her eyes widen at the mention, begging the girl to continue on.]

-- the Targaryen girl. [ sansa speaks, quick and thoughtless. then, with more care: ] Queen Daenerys.

Yes! That was her name. [She seems all a flutter with excitement. Do go on, Alayne.]

[ she has to decide: what does alayne know of the targaryen girl? ]

Her family -- it once ruled Westeros, Lucrezia. But it hasn't now for some time.

[Politics are something every Italian born noble is skilled in, having to be with so much nepotism and shady dealings that went on in the city states. It seems like this Westeros could even rival them.]

And yet she calls herself queen?

Her father sat the Iron Throne. He sits it no longer. It was taken by conquest -- I would consider her title a vanity as best.

[ because she knows what the lannisters will do to hold their crown -- what can one girl do against them? even with her dragons? ]

first bull ( video )

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