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

Entry tags:

(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

Splendid work. A fine woman. And does she begin with the orgies or the slaughters?

[ sansa...does not know how to respond to those words. so she pretends they don't exist: ] She tells me her father is one. A...pope.

[ not an orgy or a slaughter because people can't be those things. ]

Ah! Daughter to a pope. Then you've found another bastard. We are many in these parts. Perhaps we should raise a fellowship. What shall we be named, what shall we be named...

[ Thinking... ]

...Seeds of the Unlaced? Lambs of the Licentious? Those Who Came after the Banquet? Base Babes of the Unwed Tit?

[ how crude. how awful. the crass nature of his chatter puts her in mind of marillion, and the very thought of that singer makes her shudder. ]

I may be a bastard but -- I beg you -- do not count me in that number. [ her stomach turns. ]

...you speak fairly. Sometimes, the woman is wedded, if to another man.

My l--[ no do not call him that. ] Saint Valentino -- [ she stumbles; makes mistakes; is clearly easily flustered. ]

I ought to go. This talk is not wholesome.

No - it isn't. Much of bastardhood is not. You've been... fortunate, I think it, if you've known so little of it that talk can still rouse your... frustration? Sorrow? Anger? As you will.

But here, have no worry: are you... reasonably kind on the eye?

[ there's no wench half so lusty as one bastard born -- the singer's accusations echo. and others, besides. aye -- sansa has been fortunate. but only in that she's only lately become a bastard, and has therefore been spared that talk.

in a dull tone: ] I am very plain. [ today she would rather be plain. ] I have seen a hundred here already who are far more beautiful.

...oh. [ An unmistakably disappointed 'oh', culminating in an obligatory sigh of eternal woe and resignation. ]

Well... [ Well? ] ...well. Well. Well, well -

[ ...well? Reasonably, now, as if bartering at the market: ]

As long as you're not... diseased, have no fear for the fate of your children: if no one else should come, I'll marry you.

[ And now, a pause. ]

But if you are diseased, you should well tell me.

[ what can she say? she cannot shout or spit or curse -- and her heart does not incline her to do it, so inoculated is she against the wilder passions. and she cannot deride him for his market-chatter, because she knows that marriage is just another market. if anything, the man peels back the artifice and reveals it for what it is.

and she cannot tell him she is already married. so, with painstaking softness and with only a handful of missed beats, she answers: ] How kind of you to offer. [ courtesy is a lady's armour. give it another breath or two and she might flee this whole conversation. ]

[ ...oh. Well. That wasn't - ]

Not... I must say, not... quite the joy and merrymaking I'd expected of my first proposal.

[ as a veteran of five marriage plots, joy and merriment are both spread a little thin about her person. so thin it's almost transparent. but she is ever keen to play the polite lady, and so explains: ] I do not know you. My father does not know you. You cannot think your proposal at all seemly, however insincerely given.

[ because that's how she interprets this whole ordeal: a jape; a joke; a cruel twist. no strange man truly wants to marry some bastard girl sight unseen. ]

[ He has the (belated) decency to bide his time and listen; think; feign some modicum of tired courtesy. ]

Fiat. I'll have to offer again in better decorum one day.

[ have to? her swallow is painful. she bides a moment of her own. he is a creature worthy of her suspicion, certainly. and she fears... ]

We may never have that happy opportunity. To which court to you ally yourself?

Roma's.

But you'll say that's not what is meant, yes? You'll ask of the 'here' and the 'now', and when I tell you I care little for their politics, you'll name me a liar, and you'll ask where I take my lodging. And my answer to that will be honest and true -

[ ... ]

...with my horse.

Could it be that you have turned renegade?

[ some others have done so, after all -- so she may not be too disinclined to accept what he claims. ]

That would mean having once served.No, I am no renegade. I have traded no loyalties, nor had them stolen.

If they hold war... I shall see which side prides the better gain, then join it. That is all. Dishonourable, but all. When blood is shed, the wise man seeks fewer causes and more advantage.

[ she knows this argument. she has lived under its westerosi chief and master for near half a year now. even innocent alayne has started to trace the threading lines of gain and advantage through littlefinger's politics.

carefully: ] Do you as yet find the two courts rather equally matched?

[ And for the first time in this entire conversation, his tone takes a turn for probity. ]

Hold - don't. Don't think abstractly. Don't look at numbers and skill and all those things that speak of preparation.

It matters who leads. How the troupes find their morale on the day. On whose ground they stand, with whose weapons. Who has recently joined cause and who speaks of departure, and then who promises the more coin and grain. Perhaps whose men shout the louder at gates to stir anger.

Mathematics will fail you, Alayne. This is - the tide. The tide of war and where it sweeps you, and only the hour can give the match.

[ here are things she ought to learn: the gutsy metrics of war, and in turn perhaps how to play upon them. the little intelligences that can sway so much. baelish, she despairs, would know it all already -- and not for the first time, she misses his counsel. ]

You must forgive me. [ as time passes, she rediscovers her patience and her tolerance. she talks to him like a supplicant and not like someone so recently flustered by rude words or haunting offers. ] I know very little of war. Tell me, do you wait out this very telling hour at either castle or do you ride the lands like a freerider?

[ determined, she tries again. desperate to know whether she runs the risk of walking into him in these very halls. ]

I sit with the Unseelie. [ A beat. ] Is that what you yearned to hear?

Yes. [ soft. simple. her intention is found out, but there is too much distance between them to merit a back-treading apology. ] Thank you.

I shall take it you are not beside me. I think... you would have spoken of the scenery. It does not spare the eye.

Shall I tell you when I mean to visit your court?

Please do. So I might prepare.

[ and gather her sword shields. ]

Yes. Yes, so you might prepare.

[ Laughter, slightly wry. ]

And you will want flowers, yes? Or tokens? What is the custom where you're from? Gold?

no subject

no subject

I am so sorry.

i'm not!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject