[ Of course he and Eddard Stark would handle Petyr in the same way. He operates very differently from them. That's why he's still alive, she nearly says, but holds it in, knowing it would do nothing but wound him and make her seem petty. There's been enough of that today.
What he's described to her makes less sense than magic, somehow. But she knows that Jon isn't being vicious. He isn't the sort. But... It has to be a misunderstanding. She shakes her head, brow furrowed while she tries to piece this puzzle together even further, but there's no finding the corners. Those pieces are still missing.
Even if Petyr didn't betray her, even if it was somehow against his will... The idea that she might suffer at the hands of another maniac leaves her trembling in fear. Suddenly she is not so eager to return home. What does she care about Winterfell and it's seat, if she has to suffer even more for it? Jon can keep it. ]
I wish to speak no more of it. You've done what you think of as your duty, and I have heard you. Now let it be over.
[ But she hasn't really heard him, because she cannot bear to. She must Alayne again. She has to be, because...because there is nothing else. She has invested too much into this identity. She has tried so very hard, and what has she to look forward to?
Her breaths slow. Her back straightens. Her fingers unclench and fan out. Alayne looks to Jon Snow with the posture of a lady who scarcely knows him instead of a scared little sister. When she speaks again, she's found the voice she uses on the servants in The Eyrie when displeased with them. ]
You know... Seeking the Targaryen and her army, if she is even real, is a fool's errand. At best, they will ignore your plea and kill you before you can reach her, and who is to know if you can be revived a second time. At worst, she will use that same army to conquer the Seven Kingdoms and usurp the Iron Throne, and even more may die than if we had fought the undead ourselves.
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What he's described to her makes less sense than magic, somehow. But she knows that Jon isn't being vicious. He isn't the sort. But... It has to be a misunderstanding. She shakes her head, brow furrowed while she tries to piece this puzzle together even further, but there's no finding the corners. Those pieces are still missing.
Even if Petyr didn't betray her, even if it was somehow against his will... The idea that she might suffer at the hands of another maniac leaves her trembling in fear. Suddenly she is not so eager to return home. What does she care about Winterfell and it's seat, if she has to suffer even more for it? Jon can keep it. ]
I wish to speak no more of it. You've done what you think of as your duty, and I have heard you. Now let it be over.
[ But she hasn't really heard him, because she cannot bear to. She must Alayne again. She has to be, because...because there is nothing else. She has invested too much into this identity. She has tried so very hard, and what has she to look forward to?
Her breaths slow. Her back straightens. Her fingers unclench and fan out. Alayne looks to Jon Snow with the posture of a lady who scarcely knows him instead of a scared little sister. When she speaks again, she's found the voice she uses on the servants in The Eyrie when displeased with them. ]
You know... Seeking the Targaryen and her army, if she is even real, is a fool's errand. At best, they will ignore your plea and kill you before you can reach her, and who is to know if you can be revived a second time. At worst, she will use that same army to conquer the Seven Kingdoms and usurp the Iron Throne, and even more may die than if we had fought the undead ourselves.