eachdraidh | (third lemon cake) voice ✧ open to both courts

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(third lemon cake) voice ✧ open to both courts

( VOICE: OPEN TO BOTH COURTS )

Fellow [ ... ] shardholders. Seven blessings upon you all.

[ sansa is back in caer glaem, but there is no visual recording to accompany this address. (perhaps foolishly) she believes she may be somewhat protected from joffrey's attention. she would avoid an address altogether, but she feels there are those in the opposing court who ought to be quietly warned against the evil presence in their midst. trouble is, she doesn't know their names. and so here is a quiet attempt to draw out some of those people she'd spoken with at the very outset of using these lockets. ]

These lands are impressive. I have spent the larger part of two turns of this moon travelling them. Their roads are hard, perhaps, but I find myself oddly...pleased that I made any progress at all. [ there is a quiet (and honest) reverence in her voice. improvement and daring is not a thing she expects of herself, and so the mere understanding that she can now build a fire or ride a horse for days? it kindles something in her heart. a spark of pride. ] Seelie. Unseelie. Both territories boast beautiful landscapes -- I should like to see them painted, perhaps. Are there any artists in either court? Painters? Sculptors? [ ... ] Have we any musicians? These kingdoms must have their own songs. I would fain learn them.

From what played at the first feast, I imagine fairy music must always be a delight.

[ a protracted conversations, perhaps. but she hopes to catch the ear of wary allies and would-be friends. and as for her public behaviour? ah, well. she will be alayne stone a little longer. she is not ready to reclaim herself in one headlong rush. small steps and little leaps must be made. ]

(ooc: this post comes on the evening of june 27th. if your character is in caer glaem and is more apt to find here somewhere around the castle, go ahead and hit me with an action thread instead. i'm good with it. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Are items four and five not...the very same things? Unless you speak of different Petyrs.

[ because that, at least, is how she thinks of that name. petyr. ]

Depends. I mean, I could kill him, but he has a way of coming back from the dead and I'd rather not deal with that here. But I really, really hate him, so ruining his life is worth two spots on my list.

[ perhaps she betrays a flutter of something in response to how casually stiles declares his vengeance. not quite fear, but certainly a lukewarm awareness that there is bitterness to be drawn from the vein in this matter. sansa dips her chin and nods in a solemn fashion. ]

Whatever it is you must do, Stiles -- please be careful in it.

[There's certainly something there between him and Peter that is always going to be a raw wound with Stiles. He could, in his mind, place all the blame for everything solidly back on Peter's shoulders. Everything. All his fault. There was an angle to look at that made that an actual true statement, so Stiles felt vindicated in his plans of vengeance.]

Don't worry about me. I've got my trusty staff here. I should be able to handle him.

[Could he? He'd never actually used magic against a werewolf other than mountain ash. Would this work? He damnwell hoped so.]

[ softly -- gently -- and with some measure of concern: ] I do not suspect this Petyr is afraid of bubbles or slush. And so I entreat you once again to be careful.

[ her meaning ought to be plain: her mind -- quicker than she gives it credit for -- has already realized that stiles must press himself for more and darker magic yet should he want to wield it against an enemy. and that inspires some fear in her gut. ]

No, he wouldn't be afraid of bubbles and slush, but I'm pretty sure he's still afraid of fire.

[And he could do that. Not with proper control, yet, but he could.

He looked over and gave her a smile.]

Don't worry about it, Alayne. I've dealt with him before. I can do it again.

...Does he especially fear fire?

[ his attempts to ease her worry do little -- and though she sits straight-backed and stoic, there are small growing patterns to her emotions. she displays them in little flickers, too fast for her to control at first. but soon masked again. ]

Mm, yeah. Yeah, I'd say he definitely has a serious dislike for fire.

[Considering he'd been badly burned in one which had killed most of his family, then he'd been burned again and killed by his nephew. But hey, he'd totally deserved it.

At least the second time.]

I shall keep such a weakness in my thoughts. [ and she thinks about another man who feared fire. a loyal hound, but not so loyal any longer when threatened with flames. she wonders whether he's truly dead-- ] So I will know how to repel him should we have the misfortune to meet.

Whoa, hey now. Don't even think about having to meet him. That's just... that's not a thing that's going to happen.

[No, Peter wasn't going to be allowed to come near this fragile little thing. He'd twist and claw and ruin her and Stiles would have to kill him. Again. Or hate himself for letting it happen. Or both.]

We'll just... no. We'll just keep you far, far, far away from that jerk.

[ alas and alack, some other petyr has his talons deep in little bird. only she doesn't see it in that fashion. and she can barely quite follow the level of concern stiles professes -- but to hear it warms her heart and she tilts her head. charmed.

but: ] I'm not certain that is a promise any one of us can make. This place is unpredictable! And yet...I can at least tell you I have no wish at all to be near that castle again. If I am to meet an Unseelie in person, it will be much against my wishes.

You just... you just stay close to this castle and stay away from any creeps, okay? And call for help if something happens. Gendry or me or.. I don't know. Someone. Just...

[He'd seen a few freaky things while being here and the thought of a troll or ogre getting their hands on her did not sit well with him.]

Or just always go out with someone. Or a crapload of fairies.

[ his preoccupation is so gallant. so...unlike so very many others. lord renly and ser loras are kind and they are stalwart, but their vows are offered was easily as their names. they swear prettily and they swear comfortably. but stiles...

he seems to be little more than a font of untethered thoughts. sansa wonders if that somehow makes him more honest. in any case, she seeks to reassure him without giving away too much of herself: ] I'm well cared for, here. I promise. Since so many Westerosi rode out to meet Ser Gendry -- [ she'll blame their presence on him! ] It seems I have gained a few more possible escorts. Honestly, I have my shields. You needn't worry [ except she likes his worrying... ] so much. You needn't worry so much.

[ but a little is okay. ]

[He caught that and it made him smile, ducking his head down a bit as he nodded. Sure, right, sure. No worrying. That would be easy.

Not.]

Well, Gendry seems... okay. I bet he'd keep a good eye on you. He did okay bringing you back, after all. That guy I told you about? Jon? He seems okay too. Bet he'd do the whole noble knight thing and make sure you were okay. I have a friend, Allison. You should meet her. She's completely kick-ass and maybe, I mean, I don't know if you're up for it, but maybe she could teach you some archery? She's pretty good at it.

Archery?

[ oh! pardon how her nose crinkles. her disdain for the thought is so strong that it even knocks away any desire she had to thread her conversation back around her half-brother: alayne, at least, has reason to know jon's name. and she'd nearly said (with a spark of pride) that lord snow was a commander of a whole cavalcade of men who might as well be knights. better than knights, really. but then.

well.

archery. ]

It would not be seemly.

Seemly? Oh, right. The whole lady thing. Look, uh, Alayne? I know that you're used to a... certain lifestyle, but we're kind of in a completely different world, here, in case you missed that with the fairies and the magic and everything.

You really need... you need something. Something to make sure you can take care of yourself in case someone else can't get to you. It's not unseemly to be able to protect yourself. And I know plenty of women who can kick my ass from here back to my world again and that's not a bad thing.

[ a tiny trickle of pride tries to goad her into saying but i have got something! she has her wits. her wide blue eyes. she has the rules to the game of thrones, which are hardly rules at all but more like broad brushstrokes filling in the gaps between half-wits and master players. she has secrets and she has lies. but she cannot share any of them with him.

so she instead watches him with widened eyes and plays her part: ] And if I find myself incapable?

Then... kick them in the nuts, scream, and run. Always go for the nuts, even here with the weird non-humans.

[That was some solid advice, Sansa. Take it.]

[ solid advice mayhaps, but...! ]

-- Kick them in the nuts?

[ elucidate it for her, stiles. he really should have known better. ]

Oh. Um... the... wedding tackle? Frank and beans? Twig and berries? Uh... the...

[He looked down at his lap, a hand moving to cover himself surreptitiously.]

The cheap shot.

[ she is attentive. though every new metaphor makes her more and more lost. either she hails from a land where no one has the patience for euphemism or (more likely) she's been more sheltered than even she realizes. indeed, it's not until he...

gods. ]

[ brows arch. wide eyes widen some more. her face (for a flash) is a perfect picture of shock. shock so very fresh and unexpected that she hasn't even yet managed to circle 'round to disgust. she flounders there, staring at him -- his face -- for a moment longer before her mouth falls slack. ]

I could never -- [ she starts. stops. considers what he's told her: he'd meant it like a talisman. a shield. a piece of counsel. he'd not been trying to humiliate her. and yet the flush creeps up her neck and had her cheeks not already been so reddened from the sun, her blush would be evident.

she drops her attention down to her wringing hands. ]

I don't mean it like a thing to do for fun, but if you're in a situation where you're... where you need to get away... do it. Make sure you give it all you got and cripple the bastard until someone can get to you. If that doesn't work for whatever reason, go for the eyes. Your safety sort of supersedes your need to be a lady, okay? No one, and I mean no one would fault you for that.

And if they do, you just let me know and I'll do a little bleeping with my staff.

[He really meant it for the best, not trying to humiliate or embarrass her. Maybe he should talk to Allison or some other girl about starting self defense classes here. He understood they were necessary back home and that should be the same here.]

I'd always had a sworn shield -- [ her tone is plaintive. almost naive. shocked straight into a childish desire to explain why she's never had to protect herself before now: ] Knights. Soldiers. Sworn to my father. I was well guarded. I was safe.

[ i wasn't safe at all. her jaw remembers the ache. her ribs remember the pain. the backs of her legs remember what it felt like to be smacked (repeatedly) with the flat of a sword. a sword belonging to a sword shield. joffrey's, of course. not hers. never hers. ]

And I'll be safe, won't I? Within these walls? [ her gentle reassurances that he should not worry about her have been broken apart on the rocky shores of his speech. no fault of stiles's, really, but his words have scared her. they've dredged up past vulnerabilities. ones she'd thought herself far from now that she had starks around her. ]

Oh, crap. Jesus, Alayne, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out.

[He moves to grab for her shoulder, then stops. Right. No grabbing medieval girls. They took it wrong. Okay. Hand down and just... talk.]

Look, I'm just, I'm used to worse case scenarios, okay? I'm a worrier. I think of the worst that can happen and try to prevent it. That doesn't mean that anything actually will. I just... it's a good idea for a girl to be able to take care of herself. By whatever means. Just in case. I don't know if we'll have any more invasions or anything, but I think you should be okay here.

['For the most part'. He didn't want to keep talking because he felt like he was digging a hole.]

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