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002 ♕ video
[ The camera comes on and here is Alayne Stone (yes, the same Alayne Stone that supposedly bled all over her bedroom floor when demons still ran amok on the Tranquility). To her credit, she's looking much better (much more healthy than she probably has any right to be). But that's the beside the point.
The camera comes on and here is Alayne Stone and she dips, giving the same perfunctory bow that she is known to give upon greeting. Though an effort has made to make herself look tidy, her brow is pinched with worry. Her words are quick and, often, she looks off camera at something out of sight. ]
My good Tranquility, [ she says in greeting, her clip not terse per say, but approaching it. ] I am looking for a man. I— I do not know his name, but should he see my face he will remember our acquaintance.
Twice now he has come to my aid. [ He avenged my death. He gave me a terrible knife. ] And— and I find myself in need of his aid once again. [ A pause and then, squaring her shoulders, she looks into the camera and says simply (as if it were directly to the man in question). ] It is a matter of wolves. Please— [ She is about to entreat him, but thinks better of it. (He does not seem the type to be swayed by begging.) ] —do not remain silent. I know you watch and listen.
I will eagerly await your word. [ A pause and then Alayne dips again, more awkwardly this time (she wishes she could say more). ] —thank you.
The camera comes on and here is Alayne Stone and she dips, giving the same perfunctory bow that she is known to give upon greeting. Though an effort has made to make herself look tidy, her brow is pinched with worry. Her words are quick and, often, she looks off camera at something out of sight. ]
My good Tranquility, [ she says in greeting, her clip not terse per say, but approaching it. ] I am looking for a man. I— I do not know his name, but should he see my face he will remember our acquaintance.
Twice now he has come to my aid. [ He avenged my death. He gave me a terrible knife. ] And— and I find myself in need of his aid once again. [ A pause and then, squaring her shoulders, she looks into the camera and says simply (as if it were directly to the man in question). ] It is a matter of wolves. Please— [ She is about to entreat him, but thinks better of it. (He does not seem the type to be swayed by begging.) ] —do not remain silent. I know you watch and listen.
I will eagerly await your word. [ A pause and then Alayne dips again, more awkwardly this time (she wishes she could say more). ] —thank you.
ACTION I think? if that's cool?
Bran listens to his sister's request, and he knows that she is worried over so much--over her wolf, over their situation, over the danger that might yet encroach their safety, though Summer is a good bastion against such threats, and even now, Bran's direwolf paces before the door. But Alayne must worry over the dangers outside their safety, too, the dangers to Robb and Lord Baelish.
He searches his sister's face, after she has made her request. He does not know the man that she speaks of, and he will not listen when she speaks to him, should he answer. There are secrets, he thinks, and looks to Summer, still pacing that tense and nervous line. His direwolf protects them, so he cannot send Summer out to search for Lady or for Robb or for Grey Wind, but as he watches, he thinks.]
Sansa. [He says her name quietly--they are alone, so it is safe to say, but still he treats her name as a precious thing; he is careful with it now.] Sansa, there is another way to find Lady.
UGH BB WOLF DREAMER COME TO BIG SISTER ;~;
Summer paces at the door and Alayne holds the thing awkwardly in her lap, the blade of it newly polished to a shine and the length of it settled on the pillow of folded up shawl. Her hand wrists limply on the handle (it's too large for her hand and arguably too heavy, but she has tested the weight of it behind the secrecy of a closed door and is trying, by degrees, not to fear it). Alayne's white raven caws anxiously in its gilded cage at Bran's words, as if it seems to know his secret. She looks to it and then to Bran, her hand abandoning the shiv to find his instead. ] As if I'd ever let you leave my sight, [ she says, assuming he means to be brave and follow after both her father and their brother. ] The Seven themselves could come knocking for you and I would not let you go.
;~~; FLIES TO ARMS WARGISHLY
There is strength in her words as much as in her fingers, and he squeezes her hand. He looks to her white raven, and he looks to Summer, and then he looks to his sister.]
I would not have to leave. [He told her of his wolf dreams, but this is more than dreams, and he must tell her now. He grips her hand.]
Sansa-- I could be Lady. I could bring her back.
;~~; BIG SISTER WILL PROTECT YOU um with her creepy knife?
When she speaks, her voice is not harsh, though it seems tired and worn. ] Dreams again, is it? [ She does not frown, though her mouth thins as she squeezes his hands. ] Dreams cannot bring Lady back, Bran.
;~~~; OKAY YES and maybe tell stories?
No. Not dreams. It is more than dreams, Sansa--I thought it only dreams, but-- [He tries to meet her eye, as if that will help to make her understand.] I see things--wolf things. And I can smell things, and-- I can run.
[She will not believe him still. He knows she will not. And if she does not, then Robb will not--they will think him nothing but a child, a silly child.] I can bring Lady back. I can.
;~~~~; all of the stories baby brother
[ It is not an acceptance, but it is not a rejection either. I do not think you false, her eyes tell him. But the world's stories are nothing but lies. ] I know you want to help, brother—
;~~~~~; okay good perfect best oldest sister ever
And he does not pull his hands away from hers, but he shakes his head all the same. The things that she speaks of are magics, and perhaps skinchanging is a magic, too--but if it is, it is as true a magic as any of those Alayne makes mention of. He does not allow her to finish her thought, but interrupts before she is done:]
I can help. It isn't like lights in the air, or-- or flowers out of walls--it's different, Sansa. And it isn't only dreams, and it isn't only stories--I can be Lady. I can do it even aboard this ship--I tried with Summer. It's more than wolf dreams, it's--
[He squeezes her hands, hard, and he looks her straight in the eye. His sister. She must believe. She will believe.]
I can show you. I can help, Sansa. It is no story. You must believe me.
;~~~~~~~~; oh my god cee THESE SWEET SUMMER CHILDREN
Her voice is hushed, like a secret shared, like a sentiment that not even Robb is allowed to hear. ] If I could, I would rid the world of whatever made you grow so old, so quickly. [ War, suffering, injustice, cruelty. But these are the ways of life, Alayne has learned, and with the Stark's noble blood comes a place in the game of thrones. So perhaps she whispers because the sentiment is too soft, the thought too nearly maudlin and sentimental. Tell no one, Alayne's eyes say and then she is looking away, down and to one side, and lowering her head to kiss the ridge of Bran's knuckles and press the bundle of their tightly-knotted fingers to her cheek. ]
I believe you, [ she says softly. ] You would not lie. We are all stories in the end. Who am I to forbid yours from being more fantastic than mine.
no subject
Why will she not believe me, he thinks, even as he thinks, how can she believe me? There is room in his heart for both--for no matter what she says, she does not truly believe. Her face remains sad and pale and closed. And who would believe? The Sansa he remembers loved stories, and might have believed in her own wide-eyed fashion--but Alayne's eyes are harder and older and sometimes she smiles at him in a way that says you do not know, and there is truth to that. He does not know Alayne so well as he knows Sansa.
He opens his hand a little, so his fingertips brush against the arch of her cheek.]
Then let me show you, Sansa. If you believe me--let me prove it. I will bring Lady home, I swear it--and I swear it is no story. It is real.
[Summer has stopped his pacing, though when, Bran cannot say. The direwolf is watching them, with his ears pricked--still alert to the danger outside, but also alert to them, almost as if he knows what it is that Bran offers. But not Summer. Lady. He must think of Sansa's direwolf now.]
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Her brow pinches at her own confusion, but Alayne gives her expression an air of determination (the illusion of strength where she only feels weakness; some lies are love</> and all of Alayne's lies are kind). ]
And you will not leave my side? You will not venture a step from my sight, nor be held in ways that will keep you from me?
[ She doesn't understand, she doesn't understand, and the frustration of it colors her cheeks. ]
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I will be here with you, still. I may look-- asleep. I think I look as if I am sleeping when it happens. You mustn't be afraid. [He cautions her this, and twists his hand to wrap his fingers more firmly around hers once more, to lend her some strength--though she has far more strength than she marks or allows herself; he sees it in her where she does not.] I will be kept from you only as sleep would keep me. But I will bring Lady back to you.
[He glances at Summer once more--it is easy to warg into Summer, like slipping on an old glove. Lady will be unfamiliar and difficult and may not listen. You are no child, Bran tells himself. You are no boy.]
Are you ready? [He asks it of Alayne, and looks back to her, searching her face. Her expression is pinched in worry and confusion both, but she is will allow him his chance.]
no subject
At the mention of sleep, Alayne rises again, but only far enough to move about the pillows on the bed and hoist Bran back so that he is settled against them in what seems to be a comfortable manner. Then again, Alayne knees, her hands smoothing the hair from his forehead and face.
Are you ready, Bran asks and the answer is no, but Alayne smiles at him and kisses him once on the crown of his head and then tells him: ] Yes, brother. I am ready.
no subject
So--bolstered by pillows and bolstered by both smile and kiss, Bran nods solemnly and shuts his eyes.
It is difficult to slip into even Summer's skin like this. It is easier when it comes as a dream, when Bran simply opens his eyes in sleep and finds the direwolf instead of the boy--he must remember how to do it this way, the way that is choice and not chance--
Lady. He thinks of Lady, pale and prim and pretty and still a direwolf for all that, with a direwolf's large paws made neat by courtesy that she took from Sansa. Only she was wilder here, more prone to disobedience, and she was growing, catching up with her brothers in the lengthening of her legs, and when she ran she would soon be able to keep pace with them, a pack running swift in the metal corridors--
And suddenly Bran finds her--like a cloak cut for someone else, stitched for them; he could fit in but he kept pushing out, and he clung to the wolf, tried to smell what she smelled, metal and blood and the air tastes of it, too--and her paws slippery on the floor and everything is dangerous and painful and lions--
And somewhere on the ship, a boy's chest rises once in a deep breath--and then even breathing shallows, and he falls still, stiller than one even asleep.]