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ataraxionlogs2012-04-25 09:26 am
wont) wrote in ataraxionlogs2012-04-25 09:26 am
Entry tags:
♕ come away, o human child!
CHARACTERS: Richard B. Riddick, Alayne Stone and Lady.
LOCATION: the Lift.
WARNINGS: spoilers for ASoIAF.
SUMMARY: It's called a direwolf.
NOTES: BACKDATED to about a week ago.
The ship, it seems, grants many things — some of which are good, some of which are bad and some of which have yet to reveal their outcome, much to Alayne's chagrin. She is still ignorant of many things, but her father teaches that knowledge is power and so Alayne strives daily to remedy that by whatever meager means she can. (She has swallowed down Lord Baelish's teachings and she has learned hard lessons from Sansa Stark's suffering. And though Alayne has re-donned the trappings of Sansa Stark's life, she wishes to never be as helpless as her. Or as stupid, or foolish, or blind. And so behind her lady's courtesy she arms herself with knowledge and shares with her father all that she knows in the hopes that his cunning will devise a way to keep them all safe.)
Of the things the ship has granted (a beggar king, a father who lies, a pair of dead brothers, the King in the North) none have been so strange and fitful a reunion as that with Sansa's direwolf — the docile and pale-furred Lady. As Alayne waits patiently for the lift, the animal sits on its haunches beside her, obeying the command of stay, Lady, stay but with an air of barely contained restlessness. Perhaps she has grown tired of obeying. Perhaps she wishes to be Alayne's wolf instead, she thinks absently as she looks down into the animals large, wet eyes. "Wolves belong with Starks," Alayne explains aloud, as if convinced that the animal will understand the words. "And Sansa's wolf is a lady." Pityingly, she drops her hand onto Lady's head and that seems to quiet the direwolf's unease despite the soft whine in the wolf's throat; the smile Alayne indulges the creature with is quiet and complicit though beneath that there is a seam of worry, that constant fear of discovery. (I wear Sansa Stark's name again, but does the wolf see Sansa Stark in my heart?)
Although no sound reaches Alayne, something catches Lady's attention in the corridor behind. The animal's ears prick and she sits up, turning, not hesitating to place herself between her master and the unknown. It is the sort of gesture that Sansa would reward with a tug upon Lady's leash but Alayne has left the leash in her room, only the makeshift collar of leather there around Lady's throat. You've grown bold, she thinks and Lady growls, but this time Alayne does not shush her.
LOCATION: the Lift.
WARNINGS: spoilers for ASoIAF.
SUMMARY: It's called a direwolf.
NOTES: BACKDATED to about a week ago.
The ship, it seems, grants many things — some of which are good, some of which are bad and some of which have yet to reveal their outcome, much to Alayne's chagrin. She is still ignorant of many things, but her father teaches that knowledge is power and so Alayne strives daily to remedy that by whatever meager means she can. (She has swallowed down Lord Baelish's teachings and she has learned hard lessons from Sansa Stark's suffering. And though Alayne has re-donned the trappings of Sansa Stark's life, she wishes to never be as helpless as her. Or as stupid, or foolish, or blind. And so behind her lady's courtesy she arms herself with knowledge and shares with her father all that she knows in the hopes that his cunning will devise a way to keep them all safe.)
Of the things the ship has granted (a beggar king, a father who lies, a pair of dead brothers, the King in the North) none have been so strange and fitful a reunion as that with Sansa's direwolf — the docile and pale-furred Lady. As Alayne waits patiently for the lift, the animal sits on its haunches beside her, obeying the command of stay, Lady, stay but with an air of barely contained restlessness. Perhaps she has grown tired of obeying. Perhaps she wishes to be Alayne's wolf instead, she thinks absently as she looks down into the animals large, wet eyes. "Wolves belong with Starks," Alayne explains aloud, as if convinced that the animal will understand the words. "And Sansa's wolf is a lady." Pityingly, she drops her hand onto Lady's head and that seems to quiet the direwolf's unease despite the soft whine in the wolf's throat; the smile Alayne indulges the creature with is quiet and complicit though beneath that there is a seam of worry, that constant fear of discovery. (I wear Sansa Stark's name again, but does the wolf see Sansa Stark in my heart?)
Although no sound reaches Alayne, something catches Lady's attention in the corridor behind. The animal's ears prick and she sits up, turning, not hesitating to place herself between her master and the unknown. It is the sort of gesture that Sansa would reward with a tug upon Lady's leash but Alayne has left the leash in her room, only the makeshift collar of leather there around Lady's throat. You've grown bold, she thinks and Lady growls, but this time Alayne does not shush her.