teenyoda | Eachdraidh IC Inbox

I tell lies.

[ and sometimes those lies got people killed. the singer! her jaw clenches. the locket trembles in her fingers and she has to set it suddenly down upon the table with a gentle clunk. ] I've told you so many lies. Stiles. I'm sorry. You never deserved to be lied to -- you've only been sweet and kind and then you came to help me and...

[ her words come thick and fast. there is no mistaking her mild panic and the way in which every sentence sounds like a prelude to begging. pleading. maybe she can secure his forgiveness before she confesses -- or so thinks a dark and scheming part of her. ]

Everyone lies, Alayne. I've lied. Loads of times. You would not believe how many times I've lied. Look, lies are part of human nature. It's what we do when we're scared or pissed off or trying to keep someone from getting hurt. It's okay.

[ alayne. he says it again and she finds that every time she hears it it's like a dagger. a sharp accusation drove into her heart. a reminder of her betrayals. she swallows hard and thinks she can still abandon this quest by agreeing with him and nodding and smiling and pretending as if his sweetness has eased her soul.

but she can't. lord eddard stark has not been seen or heard from. and in the absence of her father and any legitimate brothers, sansa must lift that banner. her arms already ache from the thought. but maybe i can be stronger as myself; as part of winterfell. ]

No. Stiles. I'm sorry. My name is not Alayne.

[ her blood runs cold. so it begins. ]

Oh?

[It's curiously asked, not suspicious at all as he closes the book he'd been reading.]

What then? Ally? Layla?

No. And no.

[ though they were pretty names. yet neither would have suited the unremarkable girl alayne had been meant to be. brown-haired and bleating holy texts. since arriving here, she'd stumbled so far away from that identity. now all that remains is a name and a skeletal story. it's time to let her go. ]

Alayne Stone never existed. Except -- perhaps -- for a few moons even before I came here. Please understand: she was created a while ago. When I thought... [ no. it does not endear her to make her defences now. tell the truth and let stiles sort out his feelings.

before she says another word, she makes certain their conversation is locked. satisfied (but nervous): ] Sansa. Stiles, my name is Sansa.

[ the blood of winterfell. ]

Wait... isn't that the name of Jon and Arya's sister? The one I ha--

Oh.

[Well, it made sense why he'd never met Sansa. And why she had such huge quarters. And why Jon looked like he was constipated every time Stiles mentioned doing something for Alayne. Hah. Well then.]

Ah. Well, okay. So you're Jon and Arya's sister? Okay. That's okay.

[ okay it is such a neutral word, but she takes it like a benediction. it loosens the weight on her chest and she breathes again. she can recover from okay, can't she? ]

Jon and Arya. Yes. [ she doesn't know how to tell him that she'd hardly been close with either before arriving here. she doesn't want to paint herself as too much a villain. ] They have indulged me in my little shield but I cannot ask them to tell lies on my behalf any longer. Please, forgive them their part in it. Especially Jon.

Hey, whoa. No need for that. Family... they do a lot of things for each other. I'm not mad, Ala-- Sansa. Curious as hell, yeah, but I'm not mad. I'm sure you had a good reason for it and them going along with it sort of solidifies that.

Has Jon told you anything of my family's -- [ no! it's unfair! jon and sansa share blood; she can no longer exclude him and not feel the biting guilt ] -- our family's misfortune? If not, I would spare you its worst details. Except, perhaps, to tell you that the name Alayne Stone is a safer one than Sansa Stark could ever be. Even here, I fear.

Jon? Nah. We don't really go into stuff like that. We're guys, Al.. Sansa. We're nowhere near actual bro status to start sharing feelings and stuff. But I'll take your word for it. And if you need help here, from anyone from your world being an ass, you can always come hide in my shop.

[ sansa does not want to call him naive. what she does know for certain is that the particulars are so different in his lands. perhaps the delicacy of westerosi politics is never needed in the far off america. so she does not begrudge him his brave bold strong-headed defiance.

but she does explain. sort of: ] The Starks are named traitors. Rebels. Murderers and fugitives from the Crown's justice -- [ that last one is her, though she offers no indication of it. ] When I first arrived and it was only Arya I...I could not know how anyone from Westeros would react to the name. But I have been fortunate. My family's enemies seem to have been taken to Caer Scima and not here.

[ except for one. but she's gone, now. ]

Murderers? Really? Because I know murderers and you don't really fit that bill. Jon doesn't either. I mean, not like I can't see him killing someone, because I can, but not just walking up and sticking a sword in him. Gendry, maybe, but not Jon. The guy has more morals than... well, he just has a lot of morals. And if the rest of you are like that, I call bullsh--bleep.

The rest of us--

[ is there any kind way to explain it? no. no. there isn't. but the rest already know: jon and gendry. lord renly. hints of it have trickled down to the others. ] It is me. I'm the one who stands accused. Accused-- [ she stresses the word. she does not want stiles to think her guilty, though she certainly has had some small hand in the event. ]

And so Alayne Stone was a necessary ruse. I'm sorry.

Accused of what? You? Someone thinks you murdered someone? Oh, please. That's just ludicrous.

[He frowned at the locket, trying to picture her doing anything to actually hurt anyone.]

I get that it was necessary, Sansa. I'm not-- I'm not mad or anything. Sometimes people need to lie. That's fine. I just... How dense are the people from your world?

[ accused, more likely, of aiding a murder. but to explain that fine point would invite a second conversation about her husband and his disappearance. she would deftly sidestep that issue if she could. ]

Not so dense. A king was poisoned, and I disappeared from King's Landing in the wake. Of course they suspect me. They have every reason do.

[ not least of all because i was indeed the unwitting accomplice. ]

Did you do it?

[He crossed his arms, leaning on the table and looking down at the locket like he could actually see her.]

[ her voice is even. more steady, perhaps, than it has ever been in the brief wavering moments she's touched upon serious matters as alayne stone. ]

No. [ but i know who did. ] But I did not mourn him either. Only he is the king who lives again in the Unseelie court and if he learned...

He cared very little for me even before he died. [ she speaks with tact and care. skimming the very edge of a much darker depth. ]

So screw them. There's nothing they can do to you here, Sansa. And if they try... well, that's why you have friends. They'd have to make it into the castle to do anything to you first, and we'd do more than send them packing.

[He can hear the tone change and he frowns more.]

What's his name?

[Oh, look at that. Just him being curious. Tra la la.]

What will you do if I tell you?

[ it's hardly a secret; joff himself is a loud-mouthed boy who is quick to claim his crown over the lockets. but she will not hand the name over so readily only to see stiles raise a banner to her quiet cause. ]

Nothing.

[PFFF. RIGHT.]

I'm better at lying than you are. [ a soft sigh; how dreadful a thing to say. she shouldn't have said it. and so to assuage her conscience: ] Joffrey. His name is Joffrey. And he claims to be of the House Baratheon.

Hey, I am a fabulous liar. When it matters.

[Rude, Sansa. He thought you guys were friends.]

Joffrey. Joffrey. Huh. Not familiar. I'll have to go find a way to acquaint myself.

[Translation: Joffrey might wind up covered head to foot in black and pink striped fur.]

Please. Stiles. I beg of you.

[ this is why she'd chosen to conduct the conversation in this fashion: he did not have to see the welling tears in her eyes. or the shiver in her bones. all he has to contend with is the quiver in her voice. the desperation. ] Joffrey is cruel and...and monstrous. Please -- please -- do not anger him. His family has taken vengeance enough upon mine. He needs no more motivation.

Sansa, I promise that if I piss him off, it'll be on my own and there'll be no mention of you. I just want to see what he's like and if he needs a time out.

If that's all you want to know...Stiles -- I can tell you how he is. Please.

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