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un: lady; video (semi-accidental)
[sansa means for this to be anonymous, unfortunately she hasn't really figured out usernames yet, let alone how to hide hers. she also means for this to be text, but the video is already recording when she starts speaking.
she's visibly younger, though not much (a little over three years, now); smaller and slighter and more wide-eyed, with her clothes not quite fitting right and her hair braided simply to one side. lady remains the same size, half in her lap on the couch, with blue ribbons around her neck rather than her fancy padded collar. sansa, too, wears the silvery-blue dress she wore to the rinne festival tied very tightly, her padded collar slightly askew.
and she looks somber. something has clearly been troubling her. she's not quite looking at the camera. her voice is low and a little bitter.]
What happens to us when they come back?
she's visibly younger, though not much (a little over three years, now); smaller and slighter and more wide-eyed, with her clothes not quite fitting right and her hair braided simply to one side. lady remains the same size, half in her lap on the couch, with blue ribbons around her neck rather than her fancy padded collar. sansa, too, wears the silvery-blue dress she wore to the rinne festival tied very tightly, her padded collar slightly askew.
and she looks somber. something has clearly been troubling her. she's not quite looking at the camera. her voice is low and a little bitter.]
What happens to us when they come back?
video | un: graham crackers
He doesn't know yet if she'll recognise him; it's different for each case, but he lets a little smile find its way onto his features either way โ friendly, if not barely masking the dose of concern that lingers in his eyes. )
When who comes back?
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Oh, the other girl. ['the other sansa' sounds too ridiculous to say out loud...] The one who was here before, and shed her skin. Aren't they all going to come back soonโโthe people we're supposed to be?
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It's a perfectly valid question, but it's the first time Peter's seen someone voice it. It sits uneasy in his chest, burrows in and feels too tight against his ribs. )
Yeahโ they do come back. ( He already sounds apologetic, regretful. He's gotten glimpses of the kind of world Sansa came from, and.... thinking about this version of her, smaller and wider-eyed, makes his stomach hurt.
(He thinks about the version of himself he left back home, sixteen years old and stepping into a treehouse illuminated by flickering candlelight. No longer "Peter", but what if some of him does still exist? Is he trapped and aching? Screaming inside of himself, for the rest of his life?) )
I, uh. I think you'll go back. Back home. But I don't think you'll remember... being here.
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King's Landing is not my home. If I had been in Winterfell, I shouldn't mind going back.
[would it be better or worse to remember this place? it would be nice to remember the people that were kind to her...]
Did it happen to you, before?
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What's Winterfell like?
( The question's... complicated to answer. )
Not exactly the same as this. But I went home for a little while. Back to who I was... before. When I was younger. Then I came back here again.
I think about him a lot. ( A little pause, uncomfortable truths voiced. ) He would've rather stayed here, too. I know he would.
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Oh, Winterfell is beautiful. It's just as grand as the Red Keep [debatable], but much more comfortable. There's hot water piped up into the walls from underground, so it's never cold inside, and there's hot pools in the Godswood, too. We have a real heart tree, a weirwood, like the one I have here, and the glass gardens, which is the only place in the world that winter roses grow. They're pale blue, and it's as warm in there as it ever is in the Crownlands. There's a grand library, and everything the southern castles have, even a little sept for my mother. My father had it built for her.
[she pauses briefly, lest she start to get tearful.]
There's a little town just outside it called the Winter Town, and my father used to say all our farmers and people would move in during the winter, and it would be just like a little city.
[she sighs gently.]
I wish I had waited around to see it, instead of begging my parents to let me go to King's Landing with my father.
[she should wish her father was never made hand in the first place, but wishes are pointless. a small sheepish smile.]
My family's lived there for thousands of years. Everyone was always happy, and no one ever went hungry. My brothers found a litter of direwolves in the Wolfswood just outside our walls, and that's how I got Lady.
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It's strange, getting a glimpse of someone you know. Who they used to be. What they used to be, and love. It's strange, and precious in a way, and it also aches. )
It sounds... like a dream. Like how a dream would feel. ( He voices quietly. It's also nice to hear about how she got Lady.... he'd been wondering. )
My home wasn't like that. It was... ( By contrast, a nightmare. Even before the literal demons and even before the horrors that happened on the surface; things were always brewing underneath. ) ...scary. I lived near woods too, but I didn't like them. It never felt safe.
I used to dream about like... escaping? Just running away. Your home sounds like the kind of place I would've liked to go.
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You would have been welcome. I used to think it was very ordinary, but now I understand how rare it is for people to look after one another. We didn't have a lot of magic even in Winterfell, and if you wanted to talk to someone far away you had to write them a letter and give it to a messenger or a raven. We didn't have videos, and we could only listen to music when singers came by. There weren't any other ladies my own age to talk to, unless you counted Arya, and she never wanted to talk to me. But we all played in the snow togetherโโand it's not as if I made any friends in King's Landing, anyway.
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He pauses, surprise muted at first, just an odd little stagger to his focus, a little flutter of the eyelids. It's a name he hasn't forgotten, not even when he's forgotten so many others. Arya's has stayed. And he knows why โ because she was like Charlie back when he was so fresh to losing his little sister, and being around her hurt a lot, and yet he kept wanting to be close.
It could be a coincidence. Another Arya. But he remembers the types of clothing she wore, and the types of skills she had, and how "coincidence" in places like this always feels like a little bit more than just that, and he knows he has to ask. )
Arya? Is she your sister? ( An awkward beat; it's maybe a weird question to randomly ask, and he fumbles forwards to explain. ) I knew someone named Arya. She came from another world. She was... tough. And small.
( It pinches in the hollow of his throat. No, he won't forget her. )
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Arya Stark. My sister is Arya Stark of Winterfell.
[she draws a breath.]
She is little, and very strong. She has dark hair and grey eyes ['and a big forehead' is not a very nice thing to say here sansa suspects] and a little sword she calls Needle. She loved riding and archery, and she hated embroidery and courtesy lessons. She was always running around and getting into trouble, they called her Arya Underfootโโ
[the people who called her that are dead now, even if arya isn't. sansa's eyes mist and she draws another breath.]
I haven't seen her in a long time. I thought she diedโโshe ran away when they arrested our lord father, and the last time I saw her was when they killed him. My raven said our father's men found her and got her out of King's Landing, but I think I would have heard it if she found our mother and brother already. [she catches herself, realizes she's talking westerosi insider baseball.] I'm sorryโโis the Arya you knew anything like that? She must have said something about Winterfell, and our brothers at leastโโBran, and Jon Snow, and Robb.
[rickon was too little for all the riding and hunting they did, mostly, but arya was always with the other ones...]
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Peter listens, and the pinch in him digs deeper, presses firmly inwards, makes breathing the slightest bit difficult. He's staring, mentally putting a face to the description โ even if time's eroded so many details, and he's prone to forgetting.
But the little ghost of her swirls back around in his mind like a fog, reveals itself quietly. Dark hair and eyes, and a face that always seemed very serious. Did he ever see Arya smile? (Once, he thinks, when his dream guide transformed into something huge and terrifying, a giant spider. Arya was delighted by it.)
'I thought she died'
Peter blinks at the question, tries to tug himself out of the fog of Arya's ghost. )
She, um. She isโ she was. She had... dark hair โ it was short, and those eyes. And she was... running around, fighting things. One time she brought me a whole cow because I said I was hungry.
( It sounds like it should be funny, but he's not laughing. This could be Sansa's sister. And.. he doesn't know whether the information he can provide would be soothing to her worries or make things worse. His frown is deep, eyes still wet. )
I didn't know her for long. I didn't find out much about her, before she disappeared again.
( ...Did he? It's quite possible he's forgotten if Arya mentioned any of those things, those names. Peter feels the dull ache of self-loathing, too familiar. )
...But she did have a sword. She protected me with it once. More than once.
( Another pause, and his stomach aches. )
I think she was maybe around my sister's age. Sheโ twelve, or thirteen.
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She would be twelve, now. She was always playing tricks.
[she wants so badly to believe this boy knows her sister...]
We don't look very much alike, I know. She looks more like our father, and I take after our mother.
[if only there was a way to show him...but perhaps there is?? she feels foolish for not thinking of it sooner.]
I have some pictures in my chambers. I could show you, if you don't mind.
[she'd have to leave and come back...she doesn't know very much about videochat etiquette...]
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But there's only one response, one outcome, and he's nodding immediately. )
Please, I'd... I'd really like to see.
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I have to go fetch them. I'll only be a moment.
[she dashes upstairs and returns with two pictures that make her heart twist: one of her family lined up to greet the king, and one of her father and arya in king's landing. they have somewhat ornate wrought-iron frames very typical of trnech style.]
Hereโโshe's the little one next to me in Winterfellโโand that's her with our father in King's Landing.
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Immediately, there's a soft exhale, and something wounded in his features. But a smile too, lingering and small as he leans closer to the Omni. )
That's her. That'sโ yeah, that's her.
( Arya is Sansa's little sister.... The knowledge, confirmed, is weighty and strange and sobering. Peter sits there stunned, but his eyes not leaving the photos for as long as Sansa holds them there. )
I never thought I'd see her again. Not even in a photo.
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Yes, I thought she must've been killed after the riots, but they got her out of the city with some of the Night's Watch recruits.
[her little smile fades. she glances briefly down at the photos.]
I don't want to forget that.
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Peter sits there with his stomach in knots. But although any comfort won't last, it still feels important that he try. In this temporary moment, to ease any upset of this temporary person. It won't be much. He knows nothing can really help. )
I'm sorry. I know this doesn't.. help much, but.... I'll tell your older self about her. About Arya. I don't know if she knows that she's safe.
...She's my friend. You, older.
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[sansa sighs. she does appreciate the gesture, and her instinct, always, is to put people at their ease. she smies grimly.]
That's very kind. Thank you. If Arya and I can survive King's Landing, we'll meet again in Winterfell.
[this version of sansa might seem beaten, but she has more hope than alayne stone ever did. her raven omen told her a little of her sister's future, but nothing of her brothers. she doesn't know how much more she has to lose.]