(fourth lemon cake) voice ✧ open to both courts

[steeledskin]

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. ]

Comments

[bullhorned]

So some might be gold, soft and easily changed. Or brittle like iron, that breaks before it bends. Or strong as steel, solid and unyielding.

[steeledskin]

I know what I am, ser. What are you?

[bullhorned]

A bit of all of it, I think.

[An alloy. Nothing more than a mix of steel and cheap copper. Fitting for a bastard.]

[steeledskin]

[ her mouth opens, though unseen. she is about to tell him some pretty compliment about how fair and (once again) forgiving he is to take such a rounded view of his making. but something distracts her.

calmly: ] Iron is brittle?

[bullhorned]

Aye. Iron alone is decent for some things, but not for weapons. When it gets harder, it becomes more brittle. So we use steel instead. It's part iron, but the rest makes it stronger, as does the process of making it. It's likely even Valyrian steel has a bit of iron in it.

[steeledskin]

I always thought iron was very strong. Very...powerful. Or so I was told.

[bullhorned]

It's still strong enough. It just don't mean much if armor's involved.

[steeledskin]

One wonders why the Ironborn take such pride in it, if that's true.

[bullhorned]

Might be they can't afford no better. [He admittedly knows very little of Ironborn. they seemed even further away from King's Landing than the Free Cities did.]

[steeledskin]

I'm not certain the Ironborn afford anything. The-- my father's ward always spoke of paying an Iron Price.

[ ward is not the right word. but she didn't care to say his name. ]

[bullhorned]

Ain't that just a fancy way of saying stealing?

[steeledskin]

Likely so. He spoke of it so proudly. And when we were littler he --[ would pay the iron price for the toys and trinkets of the other children. but she does not want to remember him so fondly, playing games where even his cold smirking is kinder than what she knew later. ]

It's what they do on Pyke, I suppose. Steal things. It seems a poor way to do anything.

[bullhorned]

I knew plenty of lads in Fleabottom who did the same. [Gendry had done his own bit of stealing, before he was sent to Master Mott. If he hadn't been given a trade, he imagined he might have ended up a thief. Then the Night's Watch would have been the best he could hope for.] Still, it was just thieving. It wasn't no Iron Price. It was just trying to keep their bellies full.

[steeledskin]

An Iron Price was paid for all of Winterfell, I imagine. Sometimes I wonder at its worth.

[ she had a whole chamber there -- a bed and drapes and trinkets. a mirror. a chest. a window with a view she once ignored and now craved. and all of it was likely raided when the iron born took it. she wonders what value theon placed upon her rooms and the rooms of her siblings.

did he care? ]

[bullhorned]

[... yes, he'd heard of that. He wasn't sure what to say. If King's Landing had been ransacked, would he care the way she seemed to care? He wasn't sure. There were people he knew there and some he was even fond of. But even as he tried to imagine that, he could not compel himself towards any emotion.]

I couldn't say, m'lady. I don't know much about Winterfell.

[steeledskin]

I fear I did not either. [ know much about winterfell. ] Not before it was too late.

[ but that is dreary. and sad. and she hates the way they both clam up and go silent when dark matters break up their fledgling conversations. ] Tell me, ser. Have you much work now that you are back in Caer Glaem?

[ polite curiousity. ]

[bullhorned]

[He finds her statement odd. But with the subject changed, he lets the matter drop. A less gloomier subject is welcome.]

Not so much. Only what I've agreed to. I ain't been taking any new orders. I don't want anything unfinished when we leave.

[steeledskin]

A responsible decision. Is there much left to be done?

[bullhorned]

I've finished Sigrid's knife. I'll be giving it to her soon enough. I'll be starting my uncle's sword soon. After that, there will be only a few things that need doing.

[steeledskin]

A sword? For Lord Renly?

[ and a knife for sigrid! she keeps this information near to her thoughts -- and thinks she may speak on the matter with her handmaiden soon. ]

[bullhorned]

Aye, he asked for it, once we returned here. He said he'd be proud to have a sword made by me. Might be he'll not be quite as impressed when I'm done with it, but I promised it all the same.

[He almost had a mind to put if off until his apprenticeship was over, but that part of him that began to recognize family wanted to know that his uncle had a good and solid sword in his hand if he was ever in danger. Gendry was no master smith, but he'd trust a sword of his own making more than anyone else's.]

[steeledskin]

It may be that his request is not about the sword itself, but instead about the making of it. If Lord Renly wanted a perfect sword, he could ask Their Graces for one or a hundred and one. More likely, he wants a sword from you. Perfect or not.

[bullhorned]

Mayhaps it is. Even so, I'll make it as fine as I can manage, even if it ain't as good as what Their Graces might offer instead.

[Though he was now reminded how absurdly he had offered the High King that he would forge something for him once his apprenticeship was done. He felt absurd for that now.]

[steeledskin]

Have you yet given thought to its decoration?

[ because she might have some ideas... ]

[bullhorned]

Antlers, certainly. Gold and black. A crown above the crossguard, I think.

[But that's the limits of what he's come up with, which is literally taking the Baratheon sigil in sword form.]