eachdraidh | Second ❀ Video ❀ Seelie

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Second ❀ Video ❀ Seelie

How fortunate it is for one such as myself to be in a world where a voice is often a weapon equal to the strongest steel.

[Fortunate. Yes, that's a good word for it. First the Ainsels and now these things. Margaery is outside the castle and moving quickly, glancing back over her shoulder as she goes. There is an unconscious fairy in one hand, and her hawk, Valiant, perched on her gloved one.

The hawk is quite noticeably missing a few feathers.]

If anyone has a hound and would be so kind as to escort me back to my chambers, I would be forever grateful.

[Her words sound the same as ever, language fitting of a highborn lady. But there's a little quiver to her voice too. The feeling of being hunted will do that to you.]

I also have gold, if that's more to your liking.

[Because sometimes (most of the time) gratitude only gets you so far.]

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It's those hands that crafted the blade that I carry on my person.

[More than before with Loras gone. Marge does laugh softly at his words.]

Do dogs have hands? I never realized.

Not hands... so much as paws. Which ain't no use for holding things.

[... so. Yes. He pauses suddenly and she might hear horse hoofs in the distance.]

I think I see you now.

[She hears them, the approach of a rider and the baying of a hound. Margaery hurries in that direction, the tall grasses whipping at her skirts. It's only now that she dares to look back for any pursuing shadows, sees one just emerging from the shadow of a willow several yards away.]

Lawkamercyme!

[It's a strange magic word, but most probably are. What's important is that it makes the thing shrink back. Margaery shouts it again, her hawk shrieking as if to be her chorus. She's even more breathless by the time she reaches Gendry.]

There! Do you see it!

Aye! And so does the hound! Get it, boy!

[The hound is loosed from its leash and goes racing in a frenzy after the shadow. Gendry is left to dismount, feeling perhaps a little too proud of his rescue. Even if the dog is doing all the work. The shadow tries to flee, but it can't outrace the hound.]

There, I think that will be the end of that one, m'lady.

[Now, this is exciting. Margaery's fear is mostly forgotten, and she turns to watch the hound charging after the shadow, never averting her eyes when the dog tears into it.]

Good riddance, I say. It nearly took a bite out of my hawk, a gift from our monarchs.

[He does avert his eyes, not because he is bothered by the sight, but because he's intrigued first by how boldly she watches it and secondly by the hawk she has with her. He'd seen her hawk before, but never this close.]

It seems a fine bird. It would've been a shame to lose it to one of those things.

Fortunately he lost no more than a few feathers, but they will grow back.

[Margaery smiles at him when it's finished, her expression turning curious.]

Does hawking interest you, Ser Gendry?

[He shrugs as he bites back perhaps a little too much cynicism for polite company.]

I reckon it looks dangerous to me, is all. Why a hawk?

Oh, it can be, if you're not paying attention. My grandfather rode his horse right off a cliff.

[She looks at him with a little shrug. It's not the most noble death.]

Hawks are swift and aggressive, not as intelligent as crows, I suspect, but close.

Mayhaps you think too highly of Jon Snow, then.

[Yes, look at that. A rare moment of humor from Gendry. After all, that's the only crow they both know.]

[Margaery's pretty much surprised by it at first, but it quickly turns into amusement of her own.]

Do you not? Our Lord Commander seems quite courageous.

Aye, but I figure that the smarter someone is, the more reasons they've got not to be courageous.

[Gendry reckoned himself not very smart at all, so just brave enough to make up for all that.]

[That earns a genuine laugh.]

You see the world in a very interesting way, Ser Gendry. And I'm not at all sure that you're wrong. In fact, my grandmother would probably quite agree with you.

[He frowns at her.]

It's not kind comparing me to your grandmother. [Even a bastard has his pride. But with the dog now returned, he taps the horse's neck.] Do you ride?

Forgive me. I merely meant to say that you possess far more wisdom than your years.

[And her grandmother probably wouldn't have appreciated the comparison either. She smiles at him.]

I love to ride.

Then you ride. Likely you'll be tired messing with these shadow bits.

[He'll stand to the side of the horse, prepared to help hoist her into the saddle, much as he did with Sansa when there were on the road.]

I don't think anyone's ever called me wise, though. Stubborn and stupid, but never wise.

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