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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[ he knows who she is. she wonders if he knows, then, that her faith is a lie. ]

You may be right. [ airy. distant. devastatingly polite. ] The unknown should always command our respect, at least. If not our reverence.

We're surrounded by it now. There's lot for us to show our reverence for.

[He has given none.]

Besides, why should you care about them? I thought your folk all worshiped trees.

[ and this is exactly why she requested someone teach her how to make her messages more discreet. he might hear her request the private line, mumbling softly to the locket and tapping its face in the hopes that she might receive some confirmation of its status. ]

Ser Gendry. My apologies if it's an inconvenience, but -- could you perhaps not refer to my, ah, folk in so loud and public a manner?

[All of it goes entirely unnoticed to him. He's in his forge, locket open, not even looking at it. He snorts at her request.]

Why's that? It's where your from, isn't it?

It isn't safe. [ not for her; not for her sister. oh, renly pledged his protection. loras had made similar vows. but... ]

[Not safe. He frowned.]

Why not? This ain't Westeros. There ain't no king here. Well, not that king at least.

That king? No. But there's a Kingslayer. I heard him.

[There's a pause on his end. Seven hells.]

He's here? Where?

[Had he already seen him? Gendry didn't know what the man looked like. He was blonde and had a white cloak. It was all he knew.]

The other court, I think. Thank the Gods.

[ although there remains something stiff and formal in her voice, her tone is altogether different when she can shake off the dull sheen of alayne stone. it retains very little of the hollow joy. ] But that's why I cannot take chances with these pendants.

Does he know you're here, m'lady?

[Ser Jaime Lannister... Kingsguard Commander. And with Loras bloody Tyrell here. Godsdammit.]

He knows a girl named Alayne Stone is here. [ the sound of a tension-filled sigh. ] I would rather he not overhear that any northern girls are in either court. [ ... ] I suspect he ought not to learn about you, either.

[She was right. He had been worried about Loras knowing about him. Jaime too? Damn damn damn.]

He'll hear nothing from me, m'lady. You'll be Lady Alayne on these lockets. My word on it.

Thank you, ser.

[ and it's a thousand thousand times more sincere than her artfully composed gratitudes addressed to the whole population. ]

Aye. Think nothing of it, m'lady.

[His tone is neutral. No hostility now. He was sore still at how she'd made him out a liar. But a shared enemy had quelled that tension for now. And they both had someone in common to be concerned for.]

[ perhaps a liar sees other liars 'round every corner. at the very least, it's a little clearer that she acts defensively more often than not.

she has no desire to speak at length. not because of him perhaps, but because even with the conversation locked to the pair of them she still felt anxious. but she won't leave him without doing him one good turn: ] You're right, of course. About the trees. In truth, it's the old gods I'm asking -- [ if they even listen to me any longer. ]

I'll ask them to look after you, as well. You're out there -- are you not?

[ he's a knight; she expects it. ]

I am. Worst of it was yesterday. Still plenty more to be had.

[And he was fighting alongside Sansa's sister as well. But that was better unsaid, because he knew it was a fool thing for he both of them to be doing.]

Be careful. [ oh, what an idiotic thing to say to a knight. knights should not be in the business of being clever. ] Or if you can't be careful -- at least be brave.

Edited 2014-04-20 01:13 (UTC)

Aye, I will. [Though half the time he supposes he's brave because he's too craven to run and be named a coward.] Thank you m'lady.

Good day, ser.

[ how moderately pleasant a conversation it had been -- albeit trying. she feels a little exhausted, now. ]

(first lemon cake) voice ✧ seelie & unseelie

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