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Who: Tyrion Lannister
Broadcast: Everyone
Action: In the Engineering Room of First Breath, building Stuff.
When: Today!

[There is music blaring in the background - yes, Tyrion has learned how to turn on the music and he is currently listening to modern 'pop'. It is clear he enjoys it as well - he is singing along to Stitches. He is also building a - a - well it is a sword. But when he lifts it up and toggles something on the hilt, it suddenly sparks to life, electricity running up and down the blade.

He eyes it with satisfaction, giving it a practice swing, before he realizes the device is turned on. He smirks, stretching the scar on his face.] This is the twelfth time I have rebuilt this particular device, and I believe this may be my best effort yet.

[Another swing, before he powers it off.] Every day, I rebuild tools to help me survive in case of an attack - swords and the like. And every night, they are dismantled and all the parts are put back where they were originally found. I would be more annoyed ... but it is helping me quickly gather a grasp on how things work. At this rate, I shall be able to put together a weapon in moments if we come under attack, again.

[And here, his face takes on a slight calculating tilt.] ... and how was that last attack? I have heard rumors, but no ... hard facts.

[He smiles.] Your prize for sharing what information you have is a weapon that shall last you from the moment you wake until you close your eyes at night.

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[ she doesn't yet have a perfect mastery of the communications array. so, believing she's only peeping in and watching (anonymously) as lord tyrion assembles such a formidable weapon, sansa is actually broadcasting her silent curiousity for all (and for tyrion himself) to see.

her head tilts. and her eyes narrow. ]

[Tyrion glanced over at the phone, then away, as if he was merely checking the time. Yet he continues to sing softly to himself, a warm, mellow sound as he continues to build another weapon with careful touch and fingers.]

[ -- she does not expect song from him, and although it's what draws the majority of her attention she dare not comment on its existence. instead, she holds the device closer to her ear.

the comm-link contraption gets lost in a cascade of dyed dark hair. ]

[He pitches his song just loud enough to be heard, as he continues to work with the delicate machinery.]

There was a lady of the North,
And she had lovely daughters three

There was a knight of noble worth
Which also lived in the North.

The knight, of courage stout and brave,
A wife he did desire to have.

He knocked at the ladie's gate
One evening when it was late.

The eldes sister let him in,
And pin'd the door with a silver pin.

The second sister she made his bed,
And laid soft pillows under his head.

The youngest daughter that same night,
She went to bed to this young knight.

And in the morning, when it was day,
These words unto him she did say:

'Now you have had your will,' quoth she,
'I pray, sir knight, will you marry me?'

The young brave knight to her replyed,
'Thy suit, fair maid, shall not be deny'd.

'If thou canst answer me questions three,
This very day will I marry thee.'

'Kind sir, in love, O then,' quoth she,
'Tell me what your three questions be.'

'O what is longer than the way,
Or what is deeper than the sea?

'Or what is louder than the horn,
Or what is sharper than a thorn?

'Or what is greener than the grass,
Or what is worse then a woman was?'

'O love is longer than the way,
And hell is deeper than the sea.

'And thunder is louder than the horn,
And hunger is sharper than a thorn.

'And poyson is greener than the grass,
And the Devil is worse than woman was.'

When she these questions answered had,
The knight became exceeding glad.

And having truly try'd her wit,
He much commended her for it.

And after, as it is verifi'd,
He made of her his lovely bride.

So now, fair maidens all, adieu,
This song I dedicate to you.

I wish that you may constant prove
Unto the man that you do love.

[ hardly appropriate, isn't it? sansa swallows hard. the melody is sweet and simple, but the words harbour far too much for her to enjoy it like she might any other song. any other legend.

three or four heartbeats after the final note, she clears her throat. ] I did not know you sang, my lord.

[Naturally not, but he's singing to himself and not to her, now isn't he? He would have sung 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair' but that seemed even more inappropriate...

He glanced up, feigning surprise.] Why, Lady Stone, what a surprise ... it is a talent I rarely indulge in. People seem to think I will begin to juggle next. I do not want to give them false hope.

[ her nose wrinkles. who told him that name? she'd abandoned it as early as her first true foray into the fleet, and she'd never used it with lord tyrion.

but she doesn't grieve it. ] Singing isn't like juggling. Not one bit. [ and yet she knows why it would be expected of him, and frowns. ] Mayhaps you ought to have sang more.

[He really must stop finding things about Sansa intriguing. She despised him, after all, and he had had his fill of being infatuated with women who truly hated them.

Still, that nose wrinkle was ... adorable.] Hmm, no, but if a dwarf sings, you also expect him to caper around in a ridiculous hat with bells on .. I hate ridiculous hats.

[One eyebrow raises at that.] And why, praytell, would I have wanted to do that?

[ she wonders if their marriage would have been at all happier had she known of this talent -- for sansa likes singing...or she did, once upon a time. nowadays, it's harder and harder to find virtue in a melody.

but no, she pushes that question out of her head. ]

Singing can bring joy, can't it?

And what have I ever done, that I should feel joy? [He muttered to himself, as he continued to fiddle with what he was working with, but that song -- that song that Tysha used to sing, came from his lips. He hummed it softly, sighing quietly.]

[ no -- no, this is unacceptable. there is little to which sansa will speak with fire in her belly. but this she knows as truth: ]

It doesn't matter. Songs -- hymns, and pretty melodies -- they let joy enter where joy is first shut out. You ought to have heard the ladies and the children singing before the Blackwater, my lord. We sang our prayers for everyone.

[ i even sang for your sake. ]

[Now Tyrion is the one who is shocked - he had not known that. He had never even heard that tale, in the aftermath of the battle. Of course he was reeling from Cersei running amok and his father betraying him -- but still.]

...What prayers did you sing, my lady?

The Mother's hymn. [ she exhales. even speaking its name softens her posture. ] I like it very much, my lord.

If I might ask ... that is, if it would not trouble you, would you sing it for me now?

I think not, Lord Tyrion. [ ... ] It's been...my lord, it's been a long time since I've sung at all.

I see ... so you are also in need of a little joy. [He was silent for a moment, before he began to sing again.]

Come again! sweet love doth now invite
They graces that refrain
To do my due delight,
To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die,
With thee again in sweetest sympathy.

Come again! that I may cease to mourn
Through thy unkind disdain;
For now left and forlorn
I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die
In deadly pain and endless misery.

All the day the sun the lends me shine
By frowns do cause me pine
And feeds me with delay;
Her smiles, my spring that makes my joy to grow,
Her frowns the Winters of my woe.

Al the night my sleeps are full of dreams,
My eyes are full of streams.
My heart takes no delight
To see the fruits and joys that some do find
And mark the storms are me assign'd.

Out alas, my faith is ever true,
Yet will she never rue
Nor yield me any grace;
Her eyes of fire, her heart of flint is made,
Whom tears nor truth may once invade.

Gentle Love, draw forth they wounding dart,
Thou canst not pierce her heart;
For I, that do approve
By sighs and tears more hot than are thy shafts
Did tempt while she for triumph laughs.

[ quietly, and long after the last note had rung out: ] I find it odd, my lord.

[He is thoughtful himself for a moment.] Well ... it is not a song from our world.

No, my lord. [ she almost (almost smiles. ] Not the song -- although it's strange and unknown, yes. [ ... ] I mean to say it's odd to suddenly hear you sing so much after...

[ all this time. their marriage had been built on practicality. it lacked affection. but even so, she imagines a wife must be duty-bound to know whether her lord husband sings or not. ]

[Well, now that she has said it outloud ... ] I can see where you would find that just a little odd - but I remember what I promised, my Lady. Not before the Seven, or the vipers of my family. I promised I would - well. I take my word seriously.

[He had promised he would be a good husband - if music made her happy, then he would sing.]

[ her throat feels thick. uncomfortably, she swallows. he alludes (she knows) to their duties to one another. not the sordid or the unwilling ones -- but the minimum respect required to at least be civil with one another. it's the sort of vow she'd failed utterly to keep when she fled the city. seven bless him, she thinks, for not pursuing that line of questioning too intently.

she's gentler when she speaks next: ] Do you know any songs about Jonquil and Florian, my lord?

[His lips twitch upwards, and he leans back on his chair.]

I know one, yes. It's an older version, mind. Not ribald, more ... poetic. Will that suit?

[ she nods. ]

Yes. That is -- their stories have always been my favourite, Lord Tyrion.

[He tilted his head to the side, before he closed his eyes to recall the song. Then he sang softly the words he remembered.]

[ her gaze stays distant -- displaced, by degrees, to the broadcast's left. sansa's thoughts are transported: to girlhood, and to memory. the version is not precisely in step with the lighter, lovelier pieces she'd enjoyed before the crystal lies of her life got shattered against the stone of the red keep. but it's a small comfort.

deep down, she resists being comforted by him. ]

You do have such a talent.

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