» 1st lemoncake

[steeledskin]

Who: Sansa StarkAlayne Stone and YOU!
Broadcast: Video (fleetwide)
Action: Marsiva (bathroom + hallways + kitchen)
When: Early morning.

[ she stares at her refection -- standing in the communal bathroom on the marsiva. another morning, which had followed hard upon another night. at least she could only assume they were mornings and nights by the waning of the lights, and the jarring onset of such cryptic dreams. these nightly journeys into strange places and stranger memories exhaust her, and with girlish vanity she touches the dark circles under her eyes -- so starkly visible in such a perfectly reflective surface, far better than even the best polished metals in king's landing. my name is alayne stone, she mouths to herself -- more bewildered now by the obvious dark dye in her hair than she'd ever been before. sansa is gone; sansa is dead. but already her roots are beginning to show copper--!

she gathers her hair into a simple plait and fastidiously straightens the dress she'd worn to the tournament feast in the vale, and the same dress she'd worn when she'd woken up elsewhere on the marsiva. it would need a washing, soon. but she had no handmaid to prevail upon. so, looking almost as dreary as she felt, she walked solemnly and slowly back to her assigned room: nothing to keep her company except a fur-lined cloak and a mockingbird pin.

she had avoided the bizarre little message-givers for so long. but having slyly watched someone else use theirs on the previous evening, she dares to address whoever else might be listening: ]

Please. I want to go home. I'm not supposed to be here.

[ it doesn't occur to her that no one else should be, either.

but once she's been thoroughly schooled on that front, she can be found drowning her private sorrows in the kitchen, her gaze stuck on the warmed milk filling her mug. she can't decide whether she's relieved or angry she can't return to where she's meant to be. ]

Comments

[faithfulwisdom]

They ought to, yes, whether you are dull or no. But they will not. For the moment, we must all cope as best we can.

[It's a harsh truth, but his voice remains gentle. She is so very young, after all. It's not hard to understand her fear. He had been frightened at first and he was much older, much more sure of himself.]

Finrod Felagund is my name, my lady. [He dips his head in imitation of a bow- just enough to get the idea across over the screen.] May I ask yours?

[steeledskin]

[ may he? she betrays doubt and uncertainty as she mulls over the question. she's not comfortable handing out her honest name, but ever since reuniting with her brother...

can it really be that dangerous? if bran lives without fear of the crown's retribution, then perhaps she can as well. then again, she answers only because he asks her in a way she can't comfortably avoid.

she keeps her response brief: ] Sansa, my lord.

[faithfulwisdom]

[He notices hesitation, even if he does not fully understand it. So timid, this one.]

Well met, Sansa- though I wish it were under different circumstances.

[steeledskin]

-- Were you taken too, my lord?

[ kidnapped? but it seems strange, to her, to see a man so certain of himself and imagine he could have been taken here against his will. ]

[faithfulwisdom]

'Finrod' will do. [He's never been one to stand on ceremony.]

But, yes, I was. [In a manner of speaking. His soul is supposed to be in the Halls of Mandos right now. 'Taken' probably covers it better than 'kidnapped.' Can you abduct a man from death?]

As were all you will meet here. You are far from alone.

[steeledskin]

[ meanwhile, standing upon ceremony is all she knows. his request to call him by his given name falls on frightened ears. silently, she decides to simply call him nothing at all if she can't use the tools given to her by grace and good breeding. ]

-- Am I in trouble? [ has the crown caught up to her, somehow? is this some new cage? ]

[faithfulwisdom]

[He won't force her to drop the title, if she's more comfortable with it, of course. But he's not going to insist that anyone here address him properly. It's a waste of his time and, frankly, he's never cared that much- but, then, he has the privilege of not caring. He's royalty; his social graces aren't going to be the difference between life and death, not like they have been for Sansa.]

No more than the rest of us. You have realized by now, I am sure, that this is hardly a sanctuary. Yet neither is it a place of constant danger.

[He stops, watching her expression. It's not just her arrival here that's frightened her, he thinks. She's too skittish for that. There's more to it. Some recent peril, perhaps. But asking would only cause her to retreat further into her shell. So he'll play oblivious for the moment.]

[steeledskin]

But it's a prison all the same.

[ final. aching. constant danger? perhaps not. but this young woman knows a cage whenever she's inside one -- and although this cage isn't as pretty as the capital, she can at least admit that its population has been unlikely kind in their approach. ]

Isn't it?

[faithfulwisdom]

Would that I could tell you otherwise, but alas, I cannot.

[steeledskin]

So tell me something else. [ an old imperiousness creeps into her voice. only briefly, of course, before it recedes into hesitation. ] Please? Tell me it's not all terrible.

[faithfulwisdom]

It is not all terrible. [He says, his voice earnest and sincere.] I call it a prison for the simple fact that did not choose to come here and we have no say in when we leave. But you will not find it unbearable.

I have met many astounding people here, both kind and clever. And I have seen many wonders. Indeed, I may have seen more that is new to me in my short time here than in the past century on my world.

[steeledskin]

-- But the people can't all be good. [ and kind and clever.

can they? ]

[faithfulwisdom]

Of course not. But that may be said of people anywhere and everywhere, my lady, may it not?

[steeledskin]

I suppose the true question is whether the good outnumber the bad, ser.

[faithfulwisdom]

That, I imagine, you must decide for yourself. I would say yes, though I have hardly met all who reside here- nor can I see into their hearts.

[steeledskin]

-- But have you been here long?

[faithfulwisdom]

It has been nigh a year now.

[steeledskin]

A year is a very long time, ser. [ ... ] Do you not despair?

[faithfulwisdom]

Longer for some than others. [He answers softly.]

But no, I do not yet despair. Not while there are still possibilities.