eachdraidh | (first lemon cake) voice ✧ seelie & unseelie

I offer my gratitude to those fighting the worms. [ here is a voice both measured and composed, albeit young. ] And gratitude is all I can give, barring my prayers. And they are given whole-heartedly for all of us. May the Warrior give you the strength and courage required for your victories. And may the Mother bless us all.

[ sansa stark has long come to doubt the efficacy of the seven new gods. she isn't entirely certain the old gods listen, either -- but their rustling leaves and independent ways give her more peace of late than anything the seven offer: incense and rituals. however! she has resigned herself to being alayne stone to those who are not immediately known to her or trusted by her. and alayne stone worships the new gods, not the old. she is meant to be exactly as petyr baelish described her: a pious bleater, whose ardent faith discourages unwanted questions. so she speaks of blessing of the seven, but holds the old gods in her heart. she only hopes that arya and her allies will forgive her this identity fraud across the lockets.

most of all, sansa doesn't want to disappoint the people to whom she'd promised her help. like in maegor's holdfast during the blackwater, sansa hopes to lift spirits and rouse bravery. perhaps if she voices her thankfulness, others will follow in kind.

before she ends, she has only one question -- the paranoid fugitive in her needs to know: ] These pendants are truly remarkable. Magic, is it? But more efficient by far than any raven. [ ... ] Can they be used to talk only to one person, and privately? If anyone has managed it, I would thank you to tell me how.

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So you've told. And so -- forgive me for it -- I still have a difficult time believing.

[ or perhaps it's just her envy clouding her heart. would that true death had skipped over so many of her loved ones. ]

It is a strange thing, to think never to see ones loved ones even after a death. No Elf knows where the souls of Men go, nor will we ever, perhaps.

Two She-Elves there were who died for love of a mortal. Their names I am hesitant to speak, given one is here in this very castle. [ Hushed, ] How strange the folds of time are, within Allaidh Darach.

[ some old romantic fancy stirs in the pit of her stomach. died for love of a mortal. she's certain the tale of it must be fascinating, but she can't bring herself to ask for it. not now. not after seeing so much death with her own eyes.

sansa doesn't value so destructive a love any longer. however: ] Very strange. I know a man who should be dead. I'm glad he isn't -- but that doesn't make it any less unsettling.

Who should be dead? [ The weight behind the words is allowed to linger. ] A joyful place this could be, if only we were not meant to do battle.

[ the way he questions her choice of words. it makes her feel -- what? shame. maybe. ]

Should, yes. [ hesitant. ] Because when dead men walk, your grace --

[ why haven't any of the others come? she abandons her words, and tries to change the subject. ] But battle will be expected. Do you think it cruel that we're allowed to speak with our would-be enemies using these lockets, as well?

I think it will allow for Seelie forces to be diminished if they trust too keenly on what the Unseelie tell them. Perhaps they are not entirely evil, just as I am certain many here cannot be called strictly honourable, but they will have been charged with slaughtering us on sheer principle. "Shard-holders" is what we all are in this land. Perhaps we are even a currency, after a kind.

We ought to take advantage of the lockets and discover as much about them as possible.

I learned. I --

[ a huff. the girl had seemed so angry. so unfortunate. sansa doesn't want to betray her, now. but this little bit of information cannot hurt, can it? ] I don't think the Unseelie are asked into this conflict, as we were. One claimed she was taken against her will.

[ but now sansa wonders if it might be a lie -- such a twisting of a fact would, indeed, make her think twice before cheering on an offensive move against the unseelie. petyr would have applauded such an underhanded way of playing on the enemy's sympathy. ]

That they live amongst orcs and other foul creatures has not left me in any doubt that their living arrangements are disagreeable, compared to ours.

[ The fact remains, they are not Seelie, for some reason or another. ]

Be careful, child. I know you will, yet it bears saying to soothe an old heart.

I will -- I will, I promise. [ insistent. earnest. but his concern is like a balm to her. she wants to tell him that she's been playing this game in closer quarters, but their fledgling friendship is not one built on boasts. ]

They are far away; I am here. It's only words, your grace, and words are wind.

Words are power, greater than that of swords or shields. [ But, he tires. ] Let us speak more later, Lady Stark, when I am a better conversationalist. I fear I must rest awhile.

As you say. [ a small smile. words are power, hm? maybe. yes. but they're wind until they're used well, and sansa intends to use her words as well as she can. ]

Do let me know if you need anything. Otherwise -- rest, grow strong, and I hope your recovery is quick.

My thanks, Lady Stark. I will have Lothdithen come to you with any news.

[ And so ends the feed. ]

(first lemon cake) voice ✧ seelie & unseelie

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