driftfleet | 002 ➳ audio + action.

Entry tags:

002 ➳ audio + action.

Who: Nyssa.
Broadcast: Fleetwide audio.
Action: On the planet.
When: When the Fleet makes planetfall.

[ Briskly, ]

I am leading a hunting party. One companion is ideal; I will take no more than three. Bring your own weapons and dress for the cold. We depart at sunrise, from the lodge at the foot of the mountains, and there will be trips every other day beginning tomorrow.

[ Beat. ]

If you wish to come and learn, you are welcome, but if you cannot keep up, you will be left behind.

[ ooc: action prompts in comments. let me know if you'd like a custom starter. ]

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[ She laughs. ]

Truly? I am no storyteller.

[ impossible, she thinks! she can't fathom such a simple, straight-forward deficiency in the woman she's built up to be like a myth in her mind. sansa shakes her head, almost as though to disagree...

but then: ] It's -- it's alright. If you don't want to share or tell.

[ that must be the real reason behind the modesty. ]

[ She laughs again, softly. ]

You need not protect me, Sansa. I have no skill with weaving or singing.

[ well, this comes as a surprise. she doesn't hide how she's bewildered. ]

Were you never taught?

I was taught to appreciate, but never to produce. I have always been required elsewhere.

All ladies of noble houses learn the gentler arts -- in Westeros, they do. We paint and we sing and we dance. We stitch and -- some of us play the high harp, if we are good enough.

These are pleasing things, not suited to one raised on the sword and bow, I'm afraid.

Any kingdom in need of swords must also be in need of songs, Nyssa. How else will anyone hear of gallantry? Of victory? [ ... ] My lord father's guard used to sing. But I never liked their songs.

[ too rude. too ribald. ]

I fear I have misrepresented myself to you. Though it is true I have an army, and men who would kill and die for me, I have no kingdom, nor lands. Rather it is that I acknowledge no power higher than my heart, and all lands are open for me to travel. Any victory is to be swift, small, and whispered of, if spoken at all. To be what I am, to say I protect and guide, and boast freely of my deeds? I do not believe that is the path I should walk. Do you?

[ and there she pierced the heart of sansa's construction -- for what does she care, anymore, for load-boasting knights? or for deeds of lauded gallantry? sansa cares very little and less, and more often than not feels herself seduced by quieter powers. whole kingdoms can be moved by words, regardless of what furiosa says.

she flattens her palms upon the table and leans ever-so-slightly forward. conspiratorial. ] I cannot say. Your path is yours. And mine is mine. All I know for certain is they are awfully different.

They are, [ she says, agreeably, and the smile turns fond. ] You carry no sword, Sansa, but I would be loath to meet you on the battlefield you belong to. In this, I know you, I think.

Mayhaps I too have been misrepresented, Nyssa. [ she searches herself for a smile and pulls it -- clumsily -- from the back of her mouth. it looks more nauseous than pleased. ] I am no warrior. I am no politician. I am no great anything.

You would know better, perhaps.

[ Sansa has been nothing but poised, careful with her words as Nyssa is with her own bow. It speaks of noble character. ]

I would. I do.

[ her watery smile falters -- fails -- and flees. there are truths she ought to share with the woman kind enough to visit her with any regularity. truths she ought to share with the woman who can wield sword and bow and (perhaps) keep sansa safe. ]

In Westeros, what I am is a traitor. A fugitive. Some day someone will arrive in the fleet who would see me captured. Or dead.

[ She is hurt twice: by the swift, unerring way Sansa doesn't smile, and by the words that mirror her own situation so completely. There is a time for confession, and speaking freely, but she doesn't want to draw attention to her own plight when Sansa is so clearly troubled. ]

That is a possibility. The certainty is that they will find others in their path to you, unwilling to see you harmed without just cause. Besides, it is a fool who brings such prejudice here, and seeks to draw steel when we have only one true foe.

My enemies are worse than fools. My lady, they are monsters.

[ desperation causes her to slip up -- too err, and fall upon the old habits of her courtesy. in her mind, nyssa is never anything less than a noble lady. ]

And they will tear apart the very ships in this fleet to hurt my family.

[ and sansa just may do the same in return. ]

Edited 2015-12-23 18:08 (UTC)

[ She stands, and comes over to sit next to Sansa, reaching out to hold her if permitted to do so. ]

Monsters are like any other beast, sweet one. Dragons fall to a lance. Jinns can be tricked and locked away. Everything has a weakness.

[ touch does not come easily to her. indeed, at its prospect, she freezes. she becomes a statue. ]

And lions. [ her teeth feel gritted between words. ] What are their weaknesses?

[ She withdraws immediately, sitting at a polite distance, but the desire is still there — to hold Sansa through this unexpected storm. ]

The same. If it bleeds, it dies. No creature can outrun or outwit death.

Not even kings. [ gentle, and with an exhale. it isn't a question. rather, it's a claim. almost -- almost -- a challenge. ]

Not even Ra's al Ghul, and he has lived for a hundred and fifty years.

[ An echo, an affirmation. ]

Your father. [ stiff, but thoughtful. ] Is he some manner of sorcerer?

There are those who would say such.

[ She pauses. ]

We have ways of restoring strength, and prolonging life, that are not for the weak of heart.

[ ...oh.

grief never left her. not for one moment since her lord father's head had rolled at her feet. and such indulgent grief puts foolish thoughts in a young woman's head. regardless of her heart, and its weakness (or else because of its weakness), she can only think of what a boon it must be to prolong the lives of those you love. ]

How?

You must put this thought out of your mind.

[ soft, gently as she can, though gentleness was always Sara's purview and not Nyssa's. Her heart cracks at the hope colouring Sansa's words, the wish held in them. ]

Whoever you wish to save, they are better off without it.

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