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video » ( failed lock to the starks )
[ The feed opens at an odd angle showing Nuala’s wrist and her other hand skittering away from apparently pinching it. As the communicator is lifted the viewer can see Nuada giving his sister a Look, one that registers between exasperation and savvy scrutiny. No, he isn’t really paying attention to locking this post. Not now, anyway. ]
Shall we continue or would you prefer to pull your hair, too?
I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nuada. Pray continue. ( her hands are neatly and ever so solemnly clasped in her lap, which — obviously — is what she was planning to do with them all along. suggestions to the contrary are ridiculous lies circulated by a ridiculous lie monger. )
[ Obviously. Nuada, being the gracious fellow he is, goes on. ]
It’s very likely best to call all of the Starks. Robb and Jon first.
[ Because, you know. Older brothers, etc. ]
( nuala does not say that she’s terribly glad she’s acquainted with at least one of the people he’s generously offering her patronage to, although she thinks it very hard, because such an enterprise — with humans! her brother! connecting with humans without the use of a weapon! — is to be encouraged. nevertheless. )
How many of them are there, brother?
Six, I believe, including Snow. [ He does a double-take, mildly suspecting … ] You needn’t be so pleased with yourself.
( nuala does many things she doesn’t need to do. pleasantly— ) We will return to that other subject later, you know. Call your Starks.
[ ‘Pleasant’ is a relative term when it comes to Nuada because there’s a note of facetiousness in the otherwise earnest, gracious widening of his eyes. ]
Certainly. Unless, of course, you would like to add to the list on your own count? Any strays of which to speak, sister?
In point of fact—
( no, it’s too soon; she might have some in mind, but not yet. the fact she reaches for his communicator as if to take him up on it is merely a pretense to get a rise, but what a pretense— )
[ The viewers are treated to a swerving topsy-turvy screen as Nuada tosses the communicator from hand-to-hand, giving Nuala little to reach for but his side as he tilts up and away. Hurray for height differences. Is this dissolving from a serious discussion at the speed of light? Perish the thought. Elves are, naturally, always serious. Always. ]
( height difference! it’s two inches, nuada, get over yourself— or over the grass, as the case may be, when his sister opts to stop reaching up over him and instead lowers her shoulder and knocks into him with the express intention of knocking the sassy wind out of him. )
[ Two inches of sheer win, excuse Tiny here. Snorting when shoved, he wraps an arm around her to make sure her balance is just as wonky, and his smirk hints at something genuinely amused. ]
How sweet of you, sister. Perhaps we should all sit around the campfire with our cups, banging away and making friends.
( that was not a hug, nuada!! ...nuala takes a leaf out of his book a moment later, rather than addressing how she was utterly thwarted, to turn huge gold eyes up with the most ingenuous of delighted smiles. )
What a famous idea, Nuada! And to think there are those who have called you unfriendly— for shame.
( can she keep a straight face. )
[ Can anyone keep a straight face here, really. Huffing, he snorts at those big round eyes. ]
Have you been at the wine? I’ll take my cup, if you so much as start wheedling that damnable song, and —
( this time when she brings her hands together, it’s to clap that damnable beat, humming if not quite working her way up to singing— )
[ Excuse Nuada, dear viewers, he has to drop the comm to the grass for a moment; one hand plants over Nuala’s mouth as he hefts her over a shoulder, promises of dunking her in the nearest stream echoing as he hauls her out of sight. ]
Shall we continue or would you prefer to pull your hair, too?
I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nuada. Pray continue. ( her hands are neatly and ever so solemnly clasped in her lap, which — obviously — is what she was planning to do with them all along. suggestions to the contrary are ridiculous lies circulated by a ridiculous lie monger. )
[ Obviously. Nuada, being the gracious fellow he is, goes on. ]
It’s very likely best to call all of the Starks. Robb and Jon first.
[ Because, you know. Older brothers, etc. ]
( nuala does not say that she’s terribly glad she’s acquainted with at least one of the people he’s generously offering her patronage to, although she thinks it very hard, because such an enterprise — with humans! her brother! connecting with humans without the use of a weapon! — is to be encouraged. nevertheless. )
How many of them are there, brother?
Six, I believe, including Snow. [ He does a double-take, mildly suspecting … ] You needn’t be so pleased with yourself.
( nuala does many things she doesn’t need to do. pleasantly— ) We will return to that other subject later, you know. Call your Starks.
[ ‘Pleasant’ is a relative term when it comes to Nuada because there’s a note of facetiousness in the otherwise earnest, gracious widening of his eyes. ]
Certainly. Unless, of course, you would like to add to the list on your own count? Any strays of which to speak, sister?
In point of fact—
( no, it’s too soon; she might have some in mind, but not yet. the fact she reaches for his communicator as if to take him up on it is merely a pretense to get a rise, but what a pretense— )
[ The viewers are treated to a swerving topsy-turvy screen as Nuada tosses the communicator from hand-to-hand, giving Nuala little to reach for but his side as he tilts up and away. Hurray for height differences. Is this dissolving from a serious discussion at the speed of light? Perish the thought. Elves are, naturally, always serious. Always. ]
( height difference! it’s two inches, nuada, get over yourself— or over the grass, as the case may be, when his sister opts to stop reaching up over him and instead lowers her shoulder and knocks into him with the express intention of knocking the sassy wind out of him. )
[ Two inches of sheer win, excuse Tiny here. Snorting when shoved, he wraps an arm around her to make sure her balance is just as wonky, and his smirk hints at something genuinely amused. ]
How sweet of you, sister. Perhaps we should all sit around the campfire with our cups, banging away and making friends.
( that was not a hug, nuada!! ...nuala takes a leaf out of his book a moment later, rather than addressing how she was utterly thwarted, to turn huge gold eyes up with the most ingenuous of delighted smiles. )
What a famous idea, Nuada! And to think there are those who have called you unfriendly— for shame.
( can she keep a straight face. )
[ Can anyone keep a straight face here, really. Huffing, he snorts at those big round eyes. ]
Have you been at the wine? I’ll take my cup, if you so much as start wheedling that damnable song, and —
( this time when she brings her hands together, it’s to clap that damnable beat, humming if not quite working her way up to singing— )
[ Excuse Nuada, dear viewers, he has to drop the comm to the grass for a moment; one hand plants over Nuala’s mouth as he hefts her over a shoulder, promises of dunking her in the nearest stream echoing as he hauls her out of sight. ]
locked ; nuada's comm
He will attempt dragging me anywhere at his peril, but I should be glad to meet you.
locked.
It would be an honor, my lady.