eachdraidh | (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. )

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[ he ducks his head again, embarrassed this time, puffing his words out. ] Not really.

[ and even as his heart aches at the thought of it all, there's a sense of relief, too. it's an opportunity to let out all the gwen he has bottled up. and it can't hurt to share it with a girl near his age.

all the same, he locks the feed, retroactively encrypting his previous comments, too. ]

[ looking at sansa now, his eyes brimming with something unlike his warm smile. his words tumble out quickly, nearly ramming into one another in his earnestness. ] Oh, man, I could write novels on Gwen. Sonnets, maybe, if that's more romantic. [ a cringe. English is not his strong suit. ] Gwen's, like, my specialty, and I'd still barely cover the essentials. I know I said she was smart, but, god, she's really exceptional. Smarter than me, probably smarter than everyone I know. When it comes to books, people, [ a sweeping gesture. ] everything. Thing is: she's kind, too. She's nice to people who others disregard — and to people who disregard others. I don't think I've ever seen her just be mean.

[ stubborn and scolding, maybe, but plumb, mad-dog mean? never. he should know. he admired from afar for a long time. ]

But she wouldn't let herself be disregarded, either, y'know? She's stronger than me. Headstrong. Heartstrong. If it wasn't for Gwen, I don't know where I'd be. [ dead as a doornail, probably. ] Nowhere good. [ he pauses, at a loss for words, biting his lip. ]

[ got it. he snaps his fingers. ]

Just, like, think of the brightest smile you've ever seen, okay? [ maybe like the one on his face now, adoring like loyal puppy. ] Okay. Multiply it by ten. Add the sun. That's Gwen.

Heartstrong. [ she repeats. ] I like this word. It's a beautiful description -- and your Lady Gwen sounds like she danced out of a story.

[ it isn't hard to read between his poetic lines: ] Do you love her very much?

[ too much? not enough? ]

[ despite the warm flush on his face, his smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. ] Yeah, I do.

...How fortunate she must feel. To receive such devotion: eloquent and earnest.

[ once, sansa would have traded anything to deserve such ardent affection. she'd traded her family; her wolf; her core sense of self -- but joffrey had been rotten to his core. twisted. monstrous. ]

[ at eloquent, a laugh bubbles over even though he tries to stifle it with his hand. it's nice, though, relaxing. ] Eloquent is not what most people call me. Earnest, maybe — but you're way too nice.

I'm Peter, by the way, Peter Parker.

[ he managed to go his whole speech without descending into crass crudeness -- as far as sansa is now concerned, that is eloquent enough for note. she appreciates how he talks of his lady gwen without making it sound...disquieting. all praise and love. ]

Alayne Stone. What a pleasure it is to meet you, Peter.

(third lemon cake) voice ✧ open to both courts

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