002 » video

[seem]

[ When the video feed flickers to life, it bobs for a moment, accompanied by the sound of hissing breath. As it rights itself, Petyr's face comes into view, his features unusually drawn and the expression upon his face unmistakably something close to grief, to panic (and if it is feigned, if it is another lie, then it is one of the greatest that he has told). There's dark red staining his hands, or at least what is visible of them through the comms device. His voice is hushed but urgent, its tone unsteady but still clear enough. ]

My daughter— Alayne Stone has been gravely injured. I fear to move her — I fear for her life. Please, should anyone possess the capability to help—

[ He glances away, now, out of the frame of the screen. Even through the feed, one can see the hollows of his cheeks cast a stronger shadow as he clenches his jaw, the stricken father played to the hilt. (He doesn't have the time to play coy or cautious.) ]

— please hurry.

[ ooc: after this. ]

Comments

[fly_like_pie]

[And a hand lifts, hovering with uncertainty. He is certainly an awkward man, awkward with death and dealing with sorrows. They appear foreign and incompatible in every way. Once he had attempted an understanding pat to another, but found himself rejected as it may seem every decision proves wrong. He keeps his eyes set on her, battling every strain to keep his expression straight and warm. Find comfort in that, Alayne. It's all he can offer.]

And I promise.

[Lifting his hand at a safe distance, he curls his little finger with a smile. A pinky promise that Ned intends to keep, wrapped in the effort it took just to curve his lips. Woe after woe, it's the harsh truth that they live to grieve now and for days to come. That doesn't mean he can't put in the effort to ease this life into something wonderful, just a little something he decided long ago.

Now he huffs, gently pulling away.]

You should rejoin your family.

['I should have not abused my time,' he would add, but he is at a loss of words. The clock stopped ticking long ago and he doesn't deserve a moment more. As much as it pains him to let her go and turn away, he must. Not to betray, but pass the moment to those who are entitled to see her alive and well.]






She's breathing.

[Two words he never knew could feel so heavy on the tongue. The Pie Maker keeps his focus on the distance away, not meeting with others that may or may not express shock or relieved surprise. He does not dare himself to find out, but his words are strong and true.]

She's alive. A miracle.

[And whether they should choose to linger for a moment more, the Pie Maker will give a peculiar glance before starting his stride. A glance that admits everything and he's gone.]

WOW THIS IS LATE I'M SORRY GUYS

[northerner]

[ he should question ned more thoroughly. or thank him, for whatever this miracle is, it must have come from him. but robb doesn't. robb can't. he is paralyzed with hope (that traitorous, treacherous thing that causes such pain when it dies, but it cannot be false, it cannot, nothing is so cruel as that) and cannot find his words, cannot find any kingly courtesies to speak. he opens his mouth and closes it again, eyes red from tears and from grief and so impossibly wide at the thought that it was all for nothing. ]

She...

[ and then he all but pushes past ned, no thought for apology or the rudeness of it, just desperation to see his sister, to pull her into his arms and swear to her that she was alright, that he'd never let her go, never let this happen again.

he swears to all the gods, old and new, that if she were alright he would serve them most faithfully. he would pay whatever the price, they could take whatever they wished, but please, let ned's words ring true. ]