[voice/video] I put my trust in you, a stranger (un: whitewolf)

[northerndragon]

1. Voice

[A man's deep voice, colored with some urgency.]

My name is Jon Snow. I need the aid of two or three strong fighters, outside the city -- now. One of the Beastmaster's creatures is on me. He isn't alone.

2. Video

[Later, it's a young man, looking hesitant and unsure of where to begin. A curl of his dark hair is falling into his bearded face, and there are fine vertical scars above and below his eyes, as if someone once tried to claw them out. He has just been shown to his rooms after a long, hard journey, and he looks like it.

When he speaks, it's with the same deep voice from earlier in the day, now earnest and weary. The more he speaks, the more sure of himself he sounds, until in the end, it may become clear that he's used to addressing groups of people.]

I am sorry for my hasty messages earlier. The creatures are dead -- they won't trouble you or any of the people of this city.

I'm Jon Snow. I come from the Merchant -- I've been riding in and out of these canyons for most of a fortnight. Never seen anything like Taravast, but it is good to be in numbers again.

I don't expect that it will mean anything to any of you, but I am from the North. One of the Seven Kingdoms, it was.

I need to meet with Wrath and Wen Qing, as soon as either of you can. I am in the Palace of the Doxe.

For the rest -- tell me what I can do here in the city. Tell me what I can do to help our cause.

Comments

[notsansa]

[ Her hand jerks out from under his, back into her own lap where fists clench. Not in anger but in embarrassment. Her cheeks redden and her gaze drops low at his mention of being in love, not looking the least bit surprised. Of course she already knew. She still remembers his kiss. She knows it's because she is her mother's daughter, but still... ]

...He is the only one who has never betrayed me. He has protected me. If something...happened with the Boltons, then it was not his fault. It would certainly be against his will!

[ As if being forced to accept Jon's death and resurrection wasn't enough, now she's being told that her one last protector, her one last true...something, betrays her? To be betrayed again somehow makes this far more impossible to swallow than anything else he's said, and her breaths come short and tight. It hurts, deep in her breast. ]

If you claim I told you such things, then it must be at his behest. There must be a plan, a complex one that you are simply not part of. It is...his way; it is not malicious. If he were in love with me, then why would he ever put me in harm's way? He would not. He is not the man you think. He is dangerous, true, but not to those he cares for. He aims to give me Winterfell, and more.

[ She won't ask 'what she has suffered'. She can't handle it, and this time she's smart enough to keep from asking. ]

[northerndragon]

[He looks stung again, but it passes. He does not pursue her withdrawn hand.

If she trusts Littlefinger now, this would be well hard to hear. But she does need to hear it. She does need to have some armor for herself.]

Whatever he does for you, he does for himself.

Father — our real father — he would thank Baelish for his aid, but he would not have trusted him more than I do now. I only look to protect you, Sansa. I gain nothing from distrusting him, but I’d be a fool not to.

[notsansa]

[ 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.

[northerndragon]

[Has she heard him? Has she, in truth? From the way she has argued with him, then dismissed the subject entirely, and chilled, more like her mother again, he doesn’t think so. That she seems to be striking out at his decision is nothing new; she questions him all the time, though for other reasons than he thinks she may be doing so now.]

I’ve reached Daenerys Targaryen already. That woman from Essos, that’s her. She’s like you — she doesn’t remember as much from home as I do. And she’s like you, pretending to be someone she isn’t so we can all get back there.

[He is not unkind, but his tone is now cooler than it has been.]

Before I left Winterfell, Cersei summoned me to King’s Landing to bend the knee. I don’t mean to go. Part of the alliance I’ve been seeking is against her.

[Does Sansa disagree with that decision, too?]

[notsansa]

What?!

[ That certainly crashes through her façade, at least for a moment. He already found her?! That was her? For a moment she's clearly stunned, before attempting to again gather her wits and her composure, lowering her voice again so as not to draw undue attention.

Turning down Cersei is no surprise, and not something she can blame him for, even if she also thinks it's stupid. She worries that his open-faced nature will only end with his death yet again, at the rate he's moving.

Being compared to a Targaryen... How is she meant to feel about that? Anything she's heard has not been flattering. ]

Of course the Targaryen would want to dethrone the Lannisters, but what makes you think she will stop at that? Do you really think she would be the lesser evil? The people would not accept her, regardless. There would be even more civil unrest. Another war, how could there not be?

She could be lying about what she does and does not know. What she intends. Do you honestly trust her, when you have only just met her?

[northerndragon]

[He notes the surprise. His sister is sharp, needle-sharp and and knife-sharp, and not often taken aback.

And yet… they have three choices. One, a decision to go it alone when help may be possible, will kill them faster than the other two.]

No. Not yet. But I know I don’t trust Cersei, and you should know that you’ve cautioned me not to. It’s Cersei or Daenerys. One of them has three dragons, an army of Unsullied and Dothraki, the support of Dorne and the Reach, and Lord Tyrion for her hand. The other will probably try to take my head for leaving the Watch and killing her Warden of the North.

Where do you think a better chance for us lies?

[notsansa]

[ More and more he keeps jerking the rug from beneath her with little tugs, eternally causing a stumble. Tyrion...? So that's where The Imp ran off to. Perhaps she should not be surprised. If he still lives, then Sansa is still trapped in her first marriage.

That's still less troubling that what nonsense Jon mentioned of her second marriage, and she does her best to brush those confusing fears aside. It's...horrifying to think of her future as one that participates in open revolt against Cersei. Whatever happened to working from the shadows with Petyr? Whatever happened to all their plans?

These new plans are...not something she could have prepared for, and she picks at invisible linen on her skirt while her thoughts tumble over one another. ]

...I...don't know. Maybe that is the only path. But...

[ It's insanity. They are all going to die, aren't they? Whatever this plan is...it will only bide them time, won't it? There are too many wars to fight, and it sounds as if Sansa...as if Alayne will lose all the leverage she's now working to achieve. What is the point?

Her shoulders slump just a little. ]

I trust you.

[ She will have to. Does she have any choice? Wading too far into denial will like cause her to drown, and there is nobody else from home to reach out and save her. ]

But if...what you say is true, and I am...somehow to return home and experience what you say...then how...am I from your past, and you from my future? ...Why would I not have told you of this place upon our reunion? [ She may keep secrets, but...this? It would be too fantastic to hide it all. It does mean she eventually leaves, though, doesn't it? She still can't quite wrap her head around the concept of time travel. ] I must forget. And if we forget...then your attempt to form any alliance with her here may be meaningless.