driftfleet | open | text + action

Who: Sansa Stark + YOU
Broadcast: Text, fleetwide.
Action: Blue Fish
When: This morning.

Jon Snow and Bran Stark have left the Fleet. Condolences to those who may have befriended them while they were here; Gods-willing, we shall see them again.

[ sansa's message is short -- abrupt, and almost stripped of its emotion. she avoids broadcasting anything but simple text because she does not trust herself to maintain her mask, so to speak. as it is, she's cried too much. losing bran and jon feels like opening old wounds packed with grief. it makes her feel like a little girl again: weak, and mewling.

but she does add: ] I dread leaving, as they have left. Do others in the Fleet want to stay?

[ later, she can be found sitting on the floor of her personnel office. she has taken the furs from her bunk and has spread them across the ground, and she's allowed jon's direwolf pups free rein of the cozy and comfortable area. sansa's eyes are red-rimmed, and they betray every lie she tells when she insists she's as well as can be expected. but at least her spirits lift, a little, when she's playing tug-of-war with the pups.

they bring her a bittersweet joy. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ there will be differences -- but they will be subtle, and wrapped up in the paradox of lost memories. bran's alive! but jon mayn't be...

she frowns. ]

Is this the same thing you tell yourself, Theon Greyjoy?

For a long time, I've known that nothing will have changed when I return home. I've stopped looking for a way to prevent what's going to happen. There's no way to undo it.

How miserable you must be.

[ not quite accusatory. if nothing else, she's sympathetic. it's a misery she feels keenly. ]

I must be.

[He's long past denying it. He can continue to smile and continue to laugh, but it longer masks his unhappiness. ]

I must have always been.

Even at Winterfell.

[ she understands it, now. that particular pain -- caged, no matter how comfortable the bars might appear. ]

Yes.

[ She hasn't asked a question, so he needs only confirm, though he wonders how she's come to understand. ]

It was never my home, but it was just the closest thing I've had to one. It was never my intention to see it destroyed.

I believe you, Theon Greyjoy.

[ it isn't like saying she trusts him, nor even that she likes him. but belief is a powerful first inch, and she offers it in isolation. no ornamentation to gussy it up or make it more palatable. ]

[ Theon knows the difference between "I trust you" and "I believe you", but he's so seldom heard either in his life. He's understandably skeptical. ]

Why?

[ should she be honest with him? she has been -- so far. maybe not in the way he'd like, but in as near a way as she could be. ]

Because I have been in a place I wished would crumble into stone dust. I know that feeling, and in hindsight I see you never felt it.

And yet I wish I'd -- [ what? been kinder? how stupid. ] I wish it had been a better home for you. Because we both know wishing you'd never been taken from yours is a stupid, childish wish.

You’re right. What's done is done.

[ He can wish he'd never taken Winterfell. He can wish that Robb had never sent him home, or that he never came to Winterfell to begin with, but what are wishes? They’re nothing but childish thoughts of what might have been. They can’t will the past to reshape itself.

He’s grateful that Sansa sees the truth in his words, though. There was a time when he revealed his personal grievances and thoughts to no one. He was always told he should be thankful for his captors. It never settled right, and it twisted him into the wreck of a man he is now. ]

I made the wrong choices and trusted the wrong person. It’s because of me that you have no home to return to. If there were anything I could do to apologize, I would see it done.

There's nothing. Nothing you an do.

[ but she doesn't type it in anger. rather, it's a hard truth. like wishes, apologies are things people use like armour. falsehoods, meant to deflect pain or blame. instead, by telling him there are no ways in which he could fix what he's done, she hopes to absolve him of the urge. ]

It's because of me they killed my father. I trusted the wrong people, too.

[ He's been trying to make up for what he's done for nearly a year now. He's made promises that he can't keep, and he's even gone so far as to offer Robb the opportunity to kill him.

It's never enough. He knows he can't make up for what he's done, but he's grateful for Sansa. Though she doesn't forgive him, and he doesn't expect her to, she seems to understand better than her brothers. ]

Have you been blaming yourself for that for this long?

[ Sansa is young. She was even younger still when Lord Stark was killed. He finds it difficult to believe that she could be even slightly at fault for her father's death. ]

What does Robb have to say?

Robb wouldn't understand.

[ but she's beginning to both hope and fear that theon might. ]

I love him, but he would find some way to absolve me in his thoughts even if he knew the truth of what had happened. How I begged our father to stay -- and how I tried to bargain for his safety.

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