(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

[rube]

[his shoulders slouch a bit more than usual as he thinks, staring at sansa quizzically.]

Lawyers are for crime and divorce. [as far as he knows, really. he was never schooled on the subject. he doesn't know much besides that.] You involved in any of those?

prose is a little easier on my tablet i hope you don't mind? If so let me know

[steeledskin]

She did not answer his question. Instead, she posed one of her own: "Do they not also aid in matters of state and stewardship?"

not at all c:

[rube]

Ben pressed his lips together in near-frustration. He didn't exactly know the logistics. "Yeah, I think so." he hoped so. He wanted to know what the issue was, but she didn't seem to want to tell him, despite saying it was a long story.

[steeledskin]

"I owe duties to a lord, here. One who will need all the aid I can give him. Meeting and speaking with a man of law not from Westeros might be an ideal way to supply that aid."

[rube]

There was so much to keep track of in the Drabwurld. People had courts, the palace had a very clear hierarchy-- and Sansa was getting involved. It was admirable, in a way, but Ben only felt concern in that moment.

"You need any help? I ain't got much know-how on law but I can ask around."

[steeledskin]

Help. Did she need it? Certainly, she'd received offers. It was easy to take help from her family. Easy, even, to take it from Ser Gendry. But it was a complicated matter with those who weren't somehow aligned with her cause or who did not know her name.

Sansa folded her hands in her lap. "I would not know how to repay you, Ben."

[rube]

Ben shrugged nonchalantly as he leaned back in his chair, one hand resting on the table.

"You don't got to."

[steeledskin]

"Rare that someone should offer so much help for so little in return."

She did not question. She did not accuse. She merely felt her way through the conversation -- uncertain, as if waiting for some unexpected cost to spring up from the stone beneath her feat. Every man had a price, even if that price was not paid in gold. Perhaps Ben would be content with her friendship. And if so? She would count herself a rich person indeed.

[rube]

"It's okay," and it was. He was perfectly happy to help Sansa out if she needed, and he didn't expect anything in return from her. There was no money here that he needed. Everything he needed was right in front of him all the time, and he was grateful for that. Food was plenty and so were clothes.

"You don't owe me nothin'," he said, and her assumption was correct, because he enjoyed the friendship that they had, and friends just do things for each other-- no questions asked.

[steeledskin]

Her smile was small. But indulgent. And when she corrected his grammar, she tried to do it sweetly and without harsh judgement: "You mean to say I don't owe you anything. If I did not owe you nothing, I would therefore owe you something."

But Ben was not the first rough-speaker she'd spoken to. Ser Gendry was prone to similar lapses. And the gentle look in her eyes suggested she was not offended by his error, but merely did not know how else to reply to his kindness except to nudge him gently and gratefully onto the track of good speech.

[rube]

He didn't know what to say at first. He had never been schooled in grammar, or schooled in general. He didn't take it the wrong way, he knew she was from a place where grace mattered much more than where he came from. He recognized their differences, but he didn't hate them.

"You don't owe me anything," he repeated back to her. The arrangement of words felt foreign to him. He had never thought about going out of his way to learn much, anymore. He knew how to read (simple things, at least) and write, and that was all that he had. He had no time to practice grammar at home.

"That right?"

[steeledskin]

"Very good."

She was careful not to tell him it was much better. Praise was sweet, but she would not give it at the cost of his previous phrasing. Sansa knew all to well the tricky power boxed up in words and the ways in which even kind ones could cut like knifes. So she was particular. She was warm. She was protective.

[rube]

Try all she might, Sansa will probably never truly get Ben to change his way of speech. He was nice back to her because she was being nice to him, but it wasn't going to go past that. He had more to worry about here, much more than settling down and focusing on schooling. He would rather work.

Maybe, some day (perhaps sooner than later) he will stop by while she is in the library and ask her a few questions about words and spelling and even learn a few things, but until then, he would rather ignore it.

"You said you got somethin' to tell me," it was why he sat down. He was starting to become uncertain of where their conversation was even going, or how it was going to end up."

[steeledskin]

Oh. Her eyes lifted. She was not accustomed to Ben pressing a matter -- but this press was fair, considering she'd promised an answer and then had done her best to avoid it.

Sansa pressed her hands onto the table. "There is a House in Westeros who hate my father's House. I am scared, Ben, that if my family does not do enough here and now they may overrun us once again. There are impediments; a lawyer might help unimpede us."

[rube]

"What?" Ben was never good with politics. He didn't understand her necessity to help her family here, because this should be neutral ground. No one had much power over anyone else here besides the queen, and even she didn't impose too many rules over the people.

"Why does that matter so much here? Who are they and what are they tryin' to do?"

[steeledskin]

The reality was hard intractable for Sansa Stark: it always mattered. So long as there were Starks and Lannisters and Tyrells and Baratheons and anyone else in the Drabwurld, it mattered. But she did not know the first way in which she might explain that desperation to Ben. Except, perhaps--

"The Lannisters. Have you spoken to anyone with that name?"

[rube]

He shook his head, but he did recall her speaking of the name briefly to warn him of them, but he didn't recall much else on the subject. In fact, he hadn't even seen any of them around on the network as of late.

"You told me about Jaime Lannister one time. He still around?" He didn't remember the last name of another family, but the name 'Joffrey' had stood out at the time.