► 004 [backdated to 13 october, 4:43 am]

[culver]

[the video flicks on accidentally. nill is standing in the doorway of her room, only her outline visible from the light shining in; her room is dark. her wings are flared. she just stands there waiting, one hand braced on the side of the door. after a minute or two, the video cuts.

about twenty minutes later, the text message comes:]

heine is missing
has not come back
worried
have you seen him?

Comments

[wolfdreamer]

Where are you waiting? Can we wait with you?

[culver]

in our room
if you want

[wolfdreamer]

We will come and wait with you if you do not mind. It would be better not to wait alone. It would be better to have company. But if you want to wait alone you may, I will not take offense. Summer can look and I can stay with you.

[culver]

no i do not want to be alone

[wolfdreamer]

Then you will not be alone. I will come to wait with you within the hour.

[culver]

thank you bran

[wolfdreamer]

[And so shortly thereafter, there is a knock at Nill's door, quickly followed by the sound of Summer snuffling at the base of the door, sniffing at the space between door and floor.]

[culver]

[It takes her a few moments to open the door--she has to turn on the light and tidy up Heine's bed, which had been left a rumpled mess when he'd left. But she does open it, giving the direwolf plenty of space, even if she wasn't afraid of it attacking her. She offers Bran a smile (even if it's strained) and steps aside so he can enter. There's room for Summer if he wants to come inside too, since Nill and Heine haven't collected many personal items during their stay on the ship.]

[wolfdreamer]

[The robotic legs still are a little clumsy--they will always be, for they aren't as nimble as true legs, though they come very close--and so Summer is quicker to move into the room, sniffing at everything. He sniffs at Nill's feet, and then at her hand--and then he makes a sneeze, and backs up, turning toward Heine's bed instead.

Bran moves in after the direwolf, offering Nill a small smile in answer to her own.]

If anyone can find him, Summer can. And he will keep looking, no matter what.

[culver]

[She stands perfectly still as Summer inspects her, eyes following Bran as he enters the room. She's so glad he can walk now, even if she'd only known him for a little while before he could. It still made her happy to see him being mobile though, even with the current situation.

Her wings flutter, and she nods. She doesn't want to deprive Bran of his companion, but--the ship was too big for her to search on her own.]

[wolfdreamer]

[He smiles once more at her--a slightly stronger smile, for he must be strong for her sake. She is a little like a lady, and a lord would give that courtesy, though of course for Nill it is more than mere courtesy. He means it for true.]

Summer!

[The direwolf looks around at the sound of his name, and then pads over to Bran, sniffing at the floor once or twice as he passes. Bran takes Summer's great head into his hands, carefully turning his face up so he can meet Summer's eyes. He has looked into his direwolf's eyes and he has looked out of them, too; they are sharp. His nose is sharper. He will find Nill's friend.]

You must find Nill's friend. Heine. Go and look for him.

[Summer stares a moment longer, then shakes his head, freeing himself from Bran's hands. He paces back to the door, waiting expectantly before it.]

I'll stay here with you, and I will check to see that Summer has not found him. [A pause, and he smiles once more.] And I can tell you a story as we wait, if you like.

[culver]

[She watches the scene unfold with mixed fascination and hope. Summer was a strong creature, he could traverse the trip in no time, she thinks. If anyone--anything can find Heine, it should be a direwolf, right? Not that she actually knew much about them beyond that they were some type of dog.

But she trusts Bran and, by extension, the wolf.

She does her best to smile back, and nods. Yes, maybe a story would help. She liked Bran's stories.]

[wolfdreamer]

[Even a creature so clever as a direwolf has difficulty working these strange doors--so Bran first must let Summer out. The direwolf pauses a moment, sniffing at the still air of the ship--and then he goes bounding off.

Bran watches him a moment, and resists the urge to slip into Summer's skin, even if only for a moment. But he turns back to Nill instead, with another small smile.]

Do you want a story of princesses? I know some of those, because my sister was always asking for them. I think that might be a good sort of story. [He moves to sit down on the floor, putting his back against the bed. It would be too strange to sit on Nill's bed--she is nearly a lady.]

[culver]

[As he lets the direwolf out, Nill lets herself exhale silently, feeling her shoulders and wings droop. It's hard, keeping up the front that she isn't panicking. Because she is. She knows that people on this ship say they'll protect her, people like Bran--but she can't believe them one hundred percent. It isn't anything they have or haven't done. She just can't.

But by the time Bran turns back to her, she's pushed it all away, settling her face into mild peace. She follows him to the bed and instead of sitting on the mattress, elects to settle in beside him, though she sits angled towards him so her wings aren't against the bed. She nods at the suggestion of princesses--she knows they aren't Bran's favorite stories, but maybe one will make her feel better.]

[wolfdreamer]

[Bran settles back, trying to think of a good story. It is more difficult, because he is worried for Nill--not because he lacks faith in Summer, but because there are many perils aboard this ship, and many dangers that could befall anyone. But Summer will find him, he tells himself. Summer is better than anyone at searching. And later, perhaps he will slip into Summer's skin and help, too. For now, he should stay with Nill.]

Well-- she wasn't exactly a princess, but I could tell you the story of Florian the Fool and his Jonquil. She was very beautiful, and he was not, but he proved to be a great knight.

[culver]

[Jonquil. She likes the name already, and likes that the princess is beautiful and that she has a knight. Nill folds her arms on the mattress and rests her head on them, still facing him as she nods. Yes, yes she would like to hear that story very much.]

[wolfdreamer]

In all the tales, Florian is a knight--sometimes the son of an unlanded lord, and sometimes of no House at all, only a hedge knight. Old Nan always told us that he was the seventh son of a lesser House, so he took up his arms and rode to earn his own fortune.

Florian was young, but old enough to ride the tourney that was at Duskendale that year. It was at Duskendale that he won his spurs, but he took to the road again rather than swear to the service of a lord. That's why I like Florian, because he wanted adventure. He thought to ride north, through the riverlands. He wasn't attacked by any bandits, because he hardly looked a threat--for Florian was plain of face, and his armor was not his own--just pieces from the armor of his brothers and cousins and uncles. Even his breastplate was two different breastplates, fused together--one red, and one blue--and so he looked a foolish sight.

[People of this ship do not always know words of Westeros, and so Bran pauses a moment, considering.] Do you know what motley is?

[culver]

[As she listens, her body settles and her muscles lose their tension. Listening to Bran talk is easy, lets her forget about the awful things that had or might happen. She can imagine what he means, even if she doesn't exactly come up with a suit of armor in her mind: more like a shirt, but the blue and red she does understand, and she thinks the people were right: it is sort of funny to see in her mind.

At the question, she shifts. She's painfully aware of how much she doesn't know, but she doesn't feel as bad for it when she's with Bran. So she's honest, shaking her head.]

[wolfdreamer]

[He nods--there are many things aboard this ship that Bran does not know of, either, and sometimes he feels very stupid. But he can explain things without making Nill feel stupid.]

I think many people don't know of it--maybe it's only of Westeros, or maybe it's just a word mostly forgotten. Motley is what fools wear. Their clothes are stitched of cloth of many colors. Sometimes it's only thread of colors, and sometimes it's a whole suit of patches. Florian's armor was like motley, because it was just piece of other armors. That's why they first called him Florian the Fool, because he looked like a lord's fool.

So Florian was riding through the riverlands, when he heard the sound of singing. It was a lady singing, and Florian followed the sound until he came upon a grove of trees, grouped around a pool--and in the pool, there was a lady and her maids, bathing. They were the ones singing, all together, but Florian only heard one--the lady, who had the clearest, sweetest voice he'd ever heard. She was the most beautiful lady he had ever seen, and he fell in love with her right there, and swore where he was spying that he would one day marry her.

[culver]

[As he explains she nods, getting the concept. Alright, multicolored clothing. That made sense, and seemed appropriate for a fool (she does, at least, know what those are). And it's sort of comforting to know that maybe Florian hadn't actually been a fool, only dressed like one.

She's caught up in the mention of singing--that is, until he mentions the spying. Her cheeks flush slightly as she sits up, wings rustling behind her. How could he! Florian was supposed to be a knight!]

[wolfdreamer]

[He glances over at her--and then grins, a little mischievously. They always giggled at the part where Florian was spying on the lady and her maids--and Sansa would be indignant, first because of Florian's tarnished honor, and then later because they were giggling and the spying was actually romantic.]

He didn't mean to spy. He was only looking for the singers and then he saw them, accidentally--and then he was too struck by his lady's beauty to look away. That's how beautiful she was. My sister always told us that it was romantic.

[He wrinkles his nose, to show what he thinks of that claim.]

[culver]

[Nill purses her lips because as if that makes it better! Spying is still spying. Her blush fades slightly, but she's still more pink than she had been a few minutes ago. She's with you, Bran: she doesn't think it's romantic at all, just a little creepy.

But her distaste for spying has gotten him off track! Nill makes a gesture to indicate that he should continue.]

[wolfdreamer]

[He nods, taking her meaning well enough--though he is glad that she agrees with him!--and continues.]

Because he was spying, Florian couldn't go right to the lady and beg her name and her favor. And she was a true lady, and he little better than a hedge knight--so she might not grant her favor anyway. So he slipped off away from the pool, and rode instead to the keep and village he could see just over the next hill. The whole time he was thinking of his lady, of her grace and beauty and her lovely voice, and he knew he must meet her, no matter how it was done.

At the village inn, he found out the lady's name. Jonquil, only daughter to the lord of that region. She was lady of her father's keep, for her mother had died many years ago--but though Jonquil was young, she was much beloved of the people, for she was beautiful and merciful and a friend to all. The more Florian heard of his Jonquil, the more he loved her.

He learned much and more at that inn that night. There was a tourney to be held in two month's time, in honor of Jonquil's nameday. Already the village was thick with preparations. Florian declared that he would ride in the lists, and win the prize for the sweet Jonquil, but all who heard him laughed at him. He was very small, for a knight, and very young, and very plain, and everyone knew that the day's true champion would be Ser Laufrey, the son of the lord across the stream. Ser Laufrey was tall and handsome and had already won many jousts.

But the villagers did not know the strength that was in Florian's heart, for it burned in secret and could not be seen.

[culver]

[That that the lady was beautiful enough to put the knight in a sort of daze is amazing. Nill couldn't even begin to imagine what she might actually look like. Beauty is subjective, she knows. And her voice--she would have loved to hear the lady's voice.

She leans against the bed again as Bran continues, deciding that she feels bad for Florian now. Just because he looked weak definitely didn't mean he was. And people certainly shouldn't make fun of him for the way he looked! She feels as if she already knows that somehow he's going to win the tourney, and feels better for it.]

[wolfdreamer]

[Bran glances over at Nill--but she is listening attentively, with great interest, and so he goes on:]

His heart was strong because his love for Jonquil was so true, but he knew he was not as tried in the field as Ser Laufrey. And so Florian took himself off to hone his skill. It isn't easy to train alone, but he knew that he must, to win fair Jonquil's favor--so he set up a camp and a yard on a hidden riverbank, and worked very hard. He went to sleep beneath the open sky each night, sore and tired, but all of his pain melted away, for he could see Jonquil's face sketched out in the stars--twinkling ones for her eyes, and her mouth, silver dusty ones for her long red hair.

Florian trained for weeks and weeks, but one afternoon, he was riding to the village for more food and news of the approaching tourney, when he heard the sound of weeping. He went and followed the sound--and he came upon the same pool where he had seen Jonquil bathing. And it was Jonquil who was weeping.