fearcutsdeeperthanswords | ❈ | 029

Entry tags:

❈ | 029 | Video

[When the video comes on, the view is skewed: if you look long enough, it may seem like you're looking at a small section of a blanket, possibly on a bed, and a fold of cloth to one sight. Up comes the camera after a moment and an in drawn breath, and the fold of cloth is one skinny leg, the blanket tucked on a bad. Only then does she turn the device around so she's visible.]

I'm-- [Arya Stark, she almost says, but she's afraid to. Last time there was Tyrion; last time there was Tywin. Better they should think she's dead. But there are people who she wants to know she's alive. She chews her lip a moment, and decides to forgo names all together.]

I'm looking for anyone from Westeros.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Alayne recognizes Sansa's sister immediately. She just doesn't know if she can believe her eyes. Even at her worst, Arya never looked this unladylike. And her sister's clearly aged too, though considering how long it's been, that much isn't a surprise. Then again, she hadn't even been sure her sister was still alive.

Then again, she can hardly throw stones. With her hair dyed brown (shhh yes really ignore the icons) and the way she's grown into a woman lately... she's hardly the girl she was. Sansa wasn't a bastard, for one thing. Alayne is.

She hesitates before speaking, not sure what to say, not sure if she should even try to say anything. But at this point, she really should.

She wonders if Arya will even remember her.]

I am from Westeros.

[Arya remembers her too well.

She remembers a red hair girl who sang stupid songs and sewed stupid things. She remmebers a red haired girl who whispered behind her hands with Jeyne Pool, a girl who dreamed of princes and kings and the south, who wanted to be a lady like their mother, who had a wolf--

She remembers, and Arya feels her mouth open, feels her throat work and her tongue lay still without words. She doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know what to do. She she lets the first thing that comes to mind tumble out.]

Your hair is brown.

[THANK YOU SER OBVIOUS. Sansa looks taken aback by the statement, because, well, yes, obviously, and because it seems almost accusatory. Her cheeks flush a little. It's hard to remember that she's supposed to be someone else when staring her sister of all people in the face, when her sister can annoy her in that way no one else can.]

Yours is gone. You look like a boy.

[It was shaved when she got here, but that was a long time ago, now; it's back near her chin again, and she reaches up to run a hand through the tangled mess. Annoyance flickers across her face - Sansa always does this, always makes her frustrated like this - but it's Sansa, and that thought makes her ire fade.]

I was one, for a while. Pretending, anyway. It was safer.

[...] You're alive?

[She could say the same to Arya, and it's enough to make her soften a little. She and Arya haven't always gotten along, but she's very, very glad Arya's alive. She nods.]

I've been pretending too. [Not to be a boy. Obviously.] I've been-- [She glances away, trying not to grimace.] A lot's happened since you left. I thought you were dead.

[She still thinks her father was wrong - about the pack surviving. Becuase she's been alone all this time, and she's the last Stark. It's a hard thought - but he was right about one thing. Sansa is still her sister.]

Everyone thought that. I had to let them. [She chews on her lip a moment, and it makes her think of the House of Black and White. She makes herself stop.] I went to Braavos.

Braavos? [Sansa looks surprised, and a little confused.] Why would you go there?

Because-- [Because a man who could change his face gave her a coin and taught her words, because Syrio came from there, because a dozen small, stupid reasons.]

...Because I couldn't get to the Wall on my own. I have to get stronger first.

The Wall? [She looks confused for a moment, then nods.] Jon. [He and Arya had always been close. Sansa had looked down on him for being a bastard. But all it took to make her a bastard was a bit of dye and a different name.]

I went to the Eyrie.

[In all their family, Jon had been the only one to look like her. He'd been someone she could turn to, run to - and she's sad, now, that of all the people to show up, he hasn't.

But that's not fair to think, when she has this opportunity.]

Aunt Lysa? [Arya has never met her, barely heard of her. She'd considered it briefly, while on the road with the Hound - he'd wanted to trade her there. It had seemed stupid.

She's almost sorry, now. What if she missed the chance to be with Sansa again?

(She'd rather be with Jon.)]

Are you safe there? Why'd you dye your hair?

Lord Baelish said it was too recognizable. [She'd like to see Sansa again, but she's glad Arya didn't come. She doubts Arya would be able to act properly and not draw attention to herself.

Besides, she has a sneaking suspicion Petyr would not be as kind and fatherly to a girl who doesn't look like a younger Catelyn.]

I'm safe. Aunt Lysa... Aunt Lysa fell. [Or... was pushed. But she's pretty certain she shouldn't share those particular details.]

[She hears Baelish, and her nose wrinkles.] Littlefinger, why are you listening to Littlefinger? Is he with you?

[Sansa's right; separate, they're safer. Arya would hate the ruse at the Eyrie, and Sansa couldn't tend to the dead.]

Who has the Eyrie now?

He's helping me. He's... he'd married Aunt Lysa. [She hesitates then adds.] I'm Alayne Stone now.

[What.

What. None of this makes sense, at first, and she knows it should: different hair, different name, didn't she do the same? Didn't she?]

Stone?

[But that is the most mind boggling, more than having Littlefinger for an uncle. Her sister, Sansa, who loved her songs and her etiquette and her - her ladyness, took a bastard's name.

She wonders what Jon would think.]

[Sansa's cheeks color. She'd mostly over the shame of pretending to be a bastard, but then again, most people she talks to don't know who she used to be. Her sister seeing her as so far below her station is just... shameful.]

It's better than pretending to be a boy. At least I still look like a lady.

Shut up. Being a boy is easier than being a stupid little girl. [Most people don't put swords in the hands of little girls. Most.]

Why Stone? You're in the Eyrie.

You are a girl, Arya. I'm sure you could even be good at it if you bothered to make an attempt.

[Ugh, not the point. If they ever are reunited, maybe Sansa can even force her into a dress again.]

The Eyrie's part of the Vale. So are the Fingers.

[Good luck with that. That face Arya's making in your icon? Similar face on screen right now.] I'm not either, I'm a sword. [She misses Syrio Forel, but she won't forget his lessons.]

I'm a wolf. [And she has to smile at that, because it's more true than it's ever been, here.]

But you're safe there, aren't you?

[Arya gets her own special bitchface that really no one else can get out of Sansa quite so easily.]

You're also a girl. [And wolf, okay, she gets that, but sword? What is Arya talking abut?]

I'm safer here than in King's Landing. [She's not foolish enough to think she's completely safe. But she's not in immediate danger, so long as no one recognizes her.]

[She just rolls her eyes and moves on; that Sansa doesn't understand isn't surprising in the least to her. Why did she miss her sister again?]

Then why do you have to be Alayne? [She doesn't care about Sansa using a bastards name, all the names she's taken have probably been a Stone or a Waters or whatever, it hasn't mattered.] Why can't you be - you?

Because people are looking for Sansa Stark. [She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.] Petyr won't betray me, since he's the one hiding me, but you can't trust anyone. Not the servants, nor Lord Robert's bannermen. [None of whom particularly respected their little lord or Lady Lysa's second husband. They'd give up Sansa quickly if it meant receiving Lannister gold.] No one cares about a bastard girl.

But if you're safe there-- [She cuts herself off, bites her lip, because really, she understands. She understands better than she wants to. She's jsut starting to wonder if there will ever be a safe place, if they'll ever get to really be Starks again. Maybe this will be the only place she can keep her name.]

You're sure Littlefinger's trustworthy?

[She shakes her head.] I'm certain he isn't. But he's not a Lannister.

[She just earned a gazillion respect points there. Arya's a little more willing to accept it. At least it's not Sansa just being stupid with her songs again.]

Be careful. [She cares, shut up, don't point it out.]

[SHE'LL POINT IT OUT IF SHE WANTS TO. By which I mean she gives her sister a warm smile, because Arya isn't the only one who cares.] You too. I... I hope you can be yourself again. Someday.

(no subject)

fearcutsdeeperthanswords - 2013-07-06 21:27 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only