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

Fellow Shardholders. [ of either court! ]

I would speak to a man of law -- should any find himself amid our numbers. [ such a profession is unknown to her, but stiles has explained some occupations and tenets of his world and this one in particular piques her interest. sansa stark could make use of such a man who might be bound by her confidentiality. of course, she does not quite understand the ins and outs of the arrangement.

but that's why she asks today: to learn; to plan; to piece together little patches of her defence. ] Anyone who would call themselves lawyer. I would speak with you. That is the word for it, yes? [ lawyer. ] My apologies if I've gotten it wrong; I'm only a simple girl and I am unwise in these matters. I want to learn about the things that are mysteries to me.

[ like whether a lawyer's strange binding powers of argumentation would even apply in these lands. once her conversations are finished, she snaps the locket shut and can be found in the library -- where she organizes books she doesn't care to read, because the practise soothes her and distracts her mind from its darker thoughts. or else come the evening she sits in her chambers, and allies of hers are welcome to stop and knock. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

To what purpose?

To handle minor matters of state and stewardship. [ ... ] There may be a lord in search of such a man in the coming turns.

...who is your lord, Alayne?

He is not my lord. [ her lie is stiff. it stings. ] But he is a lord of Westeros and he was fostered in the same castle my own Lord Father raises me. So in the absence of others, I will help him.

If you give your loyalty to him, he is your lord. Your master. Who is the man?

Lord Eddard of House Stark.

[ it still gives her shivers to say his name aloud. ]

Tell Lord Eddard of House Stark not to send his women to do his work.

I am not sent. I ask of my own initiative--

[ a vein of indignation tracks its way through her syllables. here is a name she would defend, given half a chance. ]

Do you love him?

[ yes, yes, with every fibre of my being! ]

Certainly not. But I respect him. His care and fairness are renowned in my lands. Anyone would be grateful to find a place in his household. [ perhaps she can pass herself off as a handmaid to one of the lord's daughters. yes. ]

...I see. Well - small wonder you couldn't think to marry a humble courier. Not with ambitions to wed a lord.

He is already wed.

[ in a manner of speaking. in a sense. of a fashion. ]

You want yourself a mistress, then? You'll bear bastards, you know. Think on it.

Why must it be about marriage o-or...[ the other thing. she will not say it. ] Why? Can I not want to serve a good house and find safety and security in that fealty?

[ she does not want to talk about marriage, after all. not unless it's with someone telling her how to end hers. ]

Because that isn't your game. It isn't how the women play it.

[ the game... ]

Are the rules quite strict in your lands? Are the pieces well-marked?

[ she presses the conversation back upon him -- looking to circumnavigate matters of her heart and marriageability. ]

You'll tell me they are not in yours?

Women can take the steel weapon. Women can cut with it well. But to put them to this use is the same as taking a dagger to carve your dinner meat - and no, I will not hear of him, if you've a friend who's a meat-carver.

[ she agrees with him. she agrees with every part of his assessment -- because she feels clumsy in the things petyr expects of her and because there is a part of her that still thinks pretty young ladies are meant for marriage and for children. except--

except i have missed my opportunities too soon and too often. sansa stark is yet a woman wedded, albeit not bedded. what place is there for her in this game except to carve some different path?

so she agrees. and yet she lies: ] Women do many things in my lands.

[ hah. ]

[ Calmer, maybe, than he's the right to it; colder. ]

Do you work sword or bow? Spear? Keep histories? Write? Cook? Clean? Come - let me hear your game, then. Enlighten me. Which of these many things do you call your own for doing?

[ what were petyr's words? noting discourages unwanted questions as much as a flow of pious bleating. ]

I was to be a septa, Valentino. I was raised in the Faith. My use was intended for the Gods.

[ how tidily that ties up her parts: unable and unwilling to marry! a girl with purpose and calling and bastard bravery. the story will be changed a little, but she can live it still. ] When my Lord Father learned of my existence he took me from the Sept.

So, then. You've lost your use and gained one anew. And now you play the game - but poorly. Is that it?

Perhaps you ought to teach me better, Valentino. You seem so intent on teaching me all the other ways in which the world works.

[ to play the game by owning her clumsiness with it -- petyr, she hopes, would be proud. ]

...very well. I'll teach you no more. Nothing. Nothing at all. You've spoken.

[ she holds her tongue a moment. in truth, sansa cannot tell whether this is a victory or a defeat. perhaps it's neither; perhaps they are merely in some stalemate -- blissfully distant, yet still drawn to the careful way in which they had to speak around each other's meanings.

he humiliates her at every turn, and yet she feels herself growing sharper for it. ]

I have. I did. I spoke. [ her heart beats. ] Is that all it ever would have taken?

[ speaking up. asking. telling. could she have dissuaded him from the very outset with so simple a refusal? ]

It only would have taken more if - ...but no. That would be teaching.

Yes. That is all it took. All it would have ever taken.

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steeledskin - 2014-08-07 13:25 (UTC) - Expand

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