[ thank the gods for that. indeed, she breathes a little better. ever since she'd witnessed his excessive violence on the locket, sansa has been in a teetering state. on edge. precarious. ser gendry has minutely managed to talk down her instinct to flee father and faster -- but it still lurks there in her heart, like the beat of panicked wings. ]
Often it was Ser Lothor Brune. A freerider until he was knighted after the Blackwater. Perhaps you remember him -- he rode against Jory at the Tourney they held for our Lord Father. [ she knows a great deal about ser lothor. bits and pieces picked up in the eyrie's halls. ] He is under Lord Baelish's employ, and therefore charged with my care.
A freerider. [ she writes again, nimbly avoiding any accusations of mercenary behaviour. ] Knighted under the Lannisters but ultimately loyal to Lord Baelish.
[ or at least to baelish's purse-strings. ] He speaks little. Lord Baelish dismissed the Eyrie's captain of the guard and put Ser Lothor in his place.
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How glad I am that you have each other.
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[ the text stops. one-two-three seconds. ] I'm grateful for what I have, as well.
[ demure and well-broken, she takes the path of least conversational resistance. ]
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[ but she still panics. and has done so more frequently since joffrey's arrival. ]
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[ or at least to baelish's purse-strings. ] He speaks little. Lord Baelish dismissed the Eyrie's captain of the guard and put Ser Lothor in his place.
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[ but she doesn't say yes. because perhaps she does trust lord baelish. but not littlefinger: littlefinger is a face she does not trust at all. ]