[Hey it's not Jon's fault Dave gets right down to business! It's the old man shoes. They are powerful motivators, clearly.]
So you're too busy working to have a conversation, but you're angry because men don't talk to you. [Jon is this close to throwing up his hands in frustration.] Aye, I know it. I never said you weren't doing enough.
Dude, that locket poke has been the first time I've heard a peek from you in ages. You have a stupid bird that craps all over the place and shrieks bloody murder and you can't use it to get a hold of me? Or one of your giant pony wolves? Like... anything? I'm supposed to just know you want to talk to me?
Hold on, let me work on my psychic mind reading powers.
[He closed his eyes and held his hand out, like he was scanning Jon.]
My name is Jon. I'm too uptight and I don't know anything...
[Jon's fingers clench and unclench compulsively at the words, even though the burns on his hand are all gone. His jaw sets, angrily.]
What was stopping you, then? I've been busy too, Stiles. [You know, trying to run a guard that mostly hates him, trying not to get literally stabbed in the back again, trying not to wind up accidentally nude in front of Lady Maleficent a third time: it's a full-time job, and then some.]
Uh huh. So you're busy. I'm busy. Everyone's busy. Too busy to mention new wizards coming in. But hey, that's okay. You guys probably get along with him better, right? I mean, god...
[It's not like Dave had bled or lived with these guys for almost a year. It's not like Dave cared. Or had sponge bathed Jon. Or made a Christmas tree for Sansa. Or gone to get Bran and Robb when they needed a lift. No. But he was better, right? right.]
Well, with the whole Unseelie-Seelie split thing... I don't want anything to happen to her here because she's got some stupid shard in her chest that says she's on the other side when she's been fighting for us.
I received the queen's permission when first she came. Malia is welcomed here no matter what happens out there, it's her home. [Apparently Jon really should have actually told people when he did that. He got all gussied up for it and everything, all official-like!]
[Jon frowns. He certainly hadn't thought of that.] There's shard-bearers who have been here long, might be one of them would know and share in the how of it. [But they aren't exactly crawling out of the stonework of the Cothromach.] Might be we could ask the queen, but that should wait: she has called all to the field of battle and we refuse her by taking up here instead. I do not know her temper.
I didn't ask if you were involved with her, only if you were sweet on her. [THE HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS. And sometimes it wants more than one ok. Jon knows. He's a bastard and it wasn't like daddy stark wasn't already married when... u know.]
Fine, have it your way. [But he is 112% unconvinced and it shows on his dumb face.] I think you ought to wait some, still. Before you make requests of her.
Aye, but now seems a poor time, for all that. She calls us to battle, to go to their castle and kill on their soil, but instead we wait here. Who knows how she will take that?
Is this not... "shit flying" already? Caer Glaem means to march into battle to siege the enemy's fortress, en force. It seems to me they haven't done it in a long time. Not since I've been here, at least.
Maybe not, but Scima's popped on over to take a stab at us not long after I got here. There's a constant back and forth between them, Jon. Dude, coming from the sword bashing place you come from? I figured you'd get all that.
Where I come from, war is not treated as a diversion or a game. If one is called to action by his liege lord and he ignores it, then comes by begging for favors while the fighting is still on, he's likely to get his head struck off for his troubles.
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So you're too busy working to have a conversation, but you're angry because men don't talk to you. [Jon is this close to throwing up his hands in frustration.] Aye, I know it. I never said you weren't doing enough.
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Hold on, let me work on my psychic mind reading powers.
[He closed his eyes and held his hand out, like he was scanning Jon.]
My name is Jon. I'm too uptight and I don't know anything...
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What was stopping you, then? I've been busy too, Stiles. [You know, trying to run a guard that mostly hates him, trying not to get literally stabbed in the back again, trying not to wind up accidentally nude in front of Lady Maleficent a third time: it's a full-time job, and then some.]
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[It's not like Dave had bled or lived with these guys for almost a year. It's not like Dave cared. Or had sponge bathed Jon. Or made a Christmas tree for Sansa. Or gone to get Bran and Robb when they needed a lift. No. But he was better, right? right.]
Whatever. Malia and I should leave here anyway.
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What?
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[He wasn't buying it. He'd heard some chatter on shardbearers lately and it wasn't good.]
Can't we just... baptize her a Seelie or something? Is there a thing for that? Maybe for your brother, too?
[Because guess who thought about shit like that? That's right. This guy.]
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[Said the guy that was a little smitten.]
Besides, she helped me out for the battle. Maybe having Malia switch over would be beneficial somehow. Huh?
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... Are you sweet on the High Queen? [YOU ARE.]
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[Yes.]
I have a girlfriend, Jon.
[Who would tear his throat out if he tried anything.]
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[Was that a blush? Maaaaybe.]
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[Shut up, Jon. He was optimistic.]
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Is this not... "shit flying" already? Caer Glaem means to march into battle to siege the enemy's fortress, en force. It seems to me they haven't done it in a long time. Not since I've been here, at least.
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