driftfleet | [001 🐚 Action]

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[001 🐚 Action]

Who: Jeyne and YOU
Broadcast: N/A
Action: SS Golden; SS Blue Fish
When: Oct 23

It hadn't been a great surprise when Jeyne had appeared suddenly on the Golden. For all of her intentions of begging to be at her husband's side, she inwardly knew that she would be placed elsewhere. For the few days she had spent on the Marsiva, as well as the brief conversations she had on her strange device, she had slowly become aware of how these Atroma intended to play. Nothing was about her comfort, it was about this show that they had brought her here for.

For her sanity, and for Robb's sake, she would need to make the best of this situation and allow herself to be moved around as a pawn once more.

She had at least been given a room of her own. For the first few days, she had wandered the ship, acquainting herself with her surroundings, but only when she wasn't with her husband. Traveling between the Golden and the Blue Fish was becoming a routine for her. While she wanted to remain with Robb, she had duties to attend to and couldn't neglect her own crew.

So mornings and evenings, she would travel between the ships, slowly become familiar with the faces she passed (even if she didn't know all of their names.)

Stepping through the sealed doors, Jeyne rested for a moment, catching her breath and regaining her composure. No matter how often she passed people or walked the distance between her ship and the Blue Fish, she still managed to become disoriented and drained.

Hearing another's approach, she forced herself back into composure, bringing a smile once more to her features. "Good day," she said, turning to greet the person that had interrupted her solitude. "Am I in your way?"

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She smiled, understanding the sentiment all too well. "There is only one maester aboard my ship. It at least allows me to act as a nurse when needed." Which didn't seem to be very often. "Beyond that, I am at a loss as well."

Accepting the seat that Sansa offered, Jeyne folded her hands in her lap, trying to conceal her fidgeting and nerves. She had always imagined how it would be to meet her good-sister, but never expected how nervous she would feel.

"The room seems very comfortable." She offered shyly. "You are rather close to Robb's, I think?"

"We have a doctor," she uses the word carefully. It was new to her -- having learned it at the same time she met the doctor in question. "Her name is Beverly. And she's lovely. Really, truly lovely."

Sansa genuinely cared for the doctor, and yet her voice was retrained to that superficial, overly-polite tone. It made it sound like a lie, no matter how much she meant the compliment.

Doctor. The word would take some getting used to, along with another list of phrases. She was fairly certain that she had heard it before, but it hadn't stuck yet.

Sansa's tone worried her, leaving her wondering what sort of mood her good-sister was in. Was she imposing on Sansa's patience?

"Do you think it is possible to stay in this place?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Except that there are people here who have been part of the fleet for a very long time, and maybe they are lucky for it. Or maybe they feel unlucky, and they would rather be home."

For her part, she would cherish the time she had. Lock every lovely memory away in the hopes that she might savour it forever.

"Our captain on the Blue Fish has promised me my family could join his world, mayhaps, should a way be found. It seems it may be a happier place than Westeros."

"There must be a way then, something that steer fate towards such kindness." She sighed, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. "Or perhaps it is because whatever audience we have finds them compelling? That might be the key?"

It was something to consider more seriously when she could think more clearly.

"Sokka?" She asked, carefully pronouncing his name. It still felt strange against her tongue. "I hope there is a way to allow it. Perhaps there is even a chance to spare Robb from what happened."

-- There it was. The Red Wedding. Sansa felt a muscle twitch in her jaw, and she knew her hands would tremble. So she knotted her fingers stiffly together and abandoned all thought of pouring herself a cup of tea. It would be rude, regardless, to drink while her 'guest' had nothing. Although it pained her greatly that Jeyne had not at least played along with her offer of the guest right, she supposed it wasn't as if Robb's lady wife could trust the promise of hospitality any longer.

"I hope there is," she answered in a small and strained voice. "There is little else I want beyond my family's safety."

Edited 2016-11-01 15:08 (UTC)

She had been too trusting for most of her life. Had she been wiser, she would have seen her family's involvement and gotten a better sense for what sort of man Walder Frey was. He and her mother both, they were alike in motivation and method.

While she hadn't meant to offend Sansa, it wasn't mistrust that caused her to deny the guest right. Were she to eat or drink anything, Jeyne had little doubt that she would be ill. Fear, nerves and anger had twisted her stomach until she felt as though she would be sick. It didn't seem appropriate to subject her good-sister to her discomfort.

"Forgive me for raising such a painful topic," she murmured.

Edited 2016-11-01 15:24 (UTC)

Sansa could be a delicate creature. But she could display steel, as well, and it took a hefty amount of self-control not to tell Lady Jeyne how she did not want to discuss that night. She could barely broach the subject with her kin, let along a good-sister she barely knew how to trust. After all, this wasn't the first good-sister she'd gained and the first had taught her a deep and painful lesson in wariness.

"Mayhaps you might tell me about your ship, instead," Sansa offered an easy escape from this subject-matter. Delicately, she nudged the conversation away from their shared grief.

She smiled gratefully at Sansa for carefully shifting the conversation to something more safe and less painful. It hadn't been her intention to raise the conversation at all. Though the memory was never far from her mind.

"They have placed me on the Golden," she said, glancing down at her hands. "The crew is very kind. Though, I don't think it is nearly as large as this one seems."

"The Blue Fish is a family, of sorts. When I arrived, there was only Bran aboard their ship and I was assigned to the Huntress -- but they welcomed me with open arms, and I will never be able to repay them for their hospitality."

"How is your brother, Bran?" She asked, trying to shut out the memory of Robb's grief at hearing Bran and Rickon had died. She could still see his hands trembling as the weight of Theon's betrayal hit him.

"Is he well? Does he like it here?"

"I think he takes to it better than any of us -- he is young, still, and so eager to make friends."

And the worst heartaches are still yet to come for Bran. Most, he'd learned through his siblings upon the ship. But in a sense, he was still sheltered from them. For Sansa, however, the best was learning that her two littlest brothers were not as dead as she had feared.

He was spared then of the painful memories that seemed to haunt his siblings. She could only hope that he was allowed to stay in this place alongside his friends.

"I had the pleasure to meet your brother, Jon Snow as well. He was very reassuring when I arrived. I should like to meet Bran too." She would then be more familiar with her good-family.

A year ago, she might have corrected: my half-brother. But in the Fleet, she'd come to love Jon as deeply as she loved her full siblings. He was one of them, in joy and in pain. In time, she may learn how to accept Jeyne as well. But that was Sansa's way -- slow, and cautious, and half-by-instinct.

"I'm sorry that you missed Arya," Sansa said. Although it was a lie. She was certain Arya would have been dreadfully rude to the woman.

When she was told that Robb's siblings were among the fleet, Jeyne had braced herself for a cold reception. Yet Sansa was dignified and kind, even in her distance. It was obvious how much she took after her mother, who had always been thoughtful towards her good-daughter. It might take time, but Jeyne hoped to reach a level of warmth with Sansa as well.

"I am as well," she had heard a few stories of Robb's wild sister. "I didn't know that she was here before. Your brother told me colorful stories about her."

"Colourful is putting it kindly," Sansa responded. She has learned to love her sister almost completely, but she couldn't help the way her remark cut. Even in the Fleet, Arya had displayed remarkable disdain for manners. Happy as Sansa had been to see her alive and well, her patience had been routinely tried.

Trying to make conversation, however, "have you any siblings, my lady?"

It seemed natural for sisters to be at odds. They were raised closely together, kept a bit more separate from their brothers, sharing a similar education and path in life. Considering how wild Arya was, it didn't surprise Jeyne that Sansa felt so exasperated with her.

Her face became pained as she fidgeted more with her fingers. "I do. Both Rollam and Eleyna are younger than I am. I had an older brother, Raynald...but he was killed as well." Her voice was soft.

As well. Sansa tried not to parse the qualification with too much scrutiny. Did she simply mean that he, like Robb, had died? Or that he had been killed by the self-same lions who'd been so bent to tear apart her family, too. How tough it was to even entertain trusting the daughter of a Lannister bannerman. She found herself examining every word.

"I'm sorry," this, at least, was sincerely said. Sansa was sorry and would remain sorry for any sister's loss of a good brother. "I know the pain doesn't stop."

"No," Jeyne said with a weary sigh. Her tears had been her continual companion since the Red Wedding, but she found now that she was only tired. Misery drained her, and added to all that she needed to learn here, she recognized that she was starting to become numb to it all. It wasn't fair to Raynald's memory.

"Raynald, he served Robb." Jeyne explained softly. "He was to be kept out of sight from the Freys, so he took Grey Wind to the kennels. From what I've overheard, Raynald tried to save Robb during the attack. He unchained Grey Wind, but was shot..." she trailed off, beginning to stare off into the distance.

"Forgive me, I don't mean to raise painful memories."

"The memories are always raised, my lady," she answered softly. Every breath and every heartbeat unlocked more pain. She thought about it often: Robb's death, her lady mother's death, her father and her other brothers and her sister. Even Aunt Lysa, despite her cruelty, has a place in her heart. A corner of her inner altar.

"They do not subside. They're only painted over, mayhaps, for a short time."

"You are right," Jeyne responded softly. It seemed that her thoughts were consumed with nothing but the tragedy and the losses she experienced. She could hardly imagine how it was for Sansa, who had experienced more than the death of a brother. There was something haunted about the young woman, for reasons Jeyne could well understand.

"Have you managed to find some happiness here?" Was it even possible for them?

Sansa nodded. Although happiness was an elusive beast, she had certainly found peace in the Fleet. And perhaps that was close enough to happiness that she could repackage it as such for Jeyne's sake.

"As I said, the people here are good. It's easy to become fond of them. To make friends."

She didn't realize how comforting that answer was. It had been asked for Sansa's sake, born out of her concern for her good-sister. Yet, it at least gave her some hope that she would find some sort of happiness as well. Once Robb woke, that likelihood would be increased.

"I should like to make friends here, especially with you, my lady."

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[001 🐚 Action]

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