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[wont]

— » 003 » 005 QUARTERS | THIRD LEVEL SEAMSTRESS | FIFTH LEVEL PETYR'S LIBARY | FIFTH LEVEL DEVICE, IN-PERSON, BY RAVEN

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[bruxisms]

[ He notes that glance, though replies as he always would. ]

She is. [ In truth, it had seemed to him that she had inherited neither of her parents' disposition. The girl had always been a sweet and gentle child, Cressen had said. Once, the elderly maester had been so bold as to suggest there were many similarities in between his daughter and himself in his youth.

He had deemed it a foolish notion, and the maester had not argued with him on the matter. ]

Yet, she is no fool. It would be far safer for her to be with— [ yet that was not quite right ] to remain in my presence. [ And the girl had never given flight to him before. He misliked it. ]

[wont]

[ Alayne briefly wonders after Shireen's mother. The Lady Selyse, if she recalls correctly, who is little more than a name to Alayne — a solitary leaf hung upon a broader tree whose shade cast itself over the Stormlands and called itself Baratheon. Did the Princess possibly take after her mother's disposition, Alayne thinks, but then puts the thought out of her mind. She cannot imagine Lord Stannis with such a wife, though it would be foolish to suppose that all marriages were finely matched.

She watches him as they pursue their little charge, Alayne gaze fixed sideways on the man. Though she does not know the true language of his face, she looks to divine some of it here. Was his concern truly for his daughter, or was there something — some greater secret? (For all men had those, certainly.) ]

Is she frightened of you? [ A bold question. It was not her place to champion this little girl, as unknown to her as she was. Still, Alayne asks, her eyes lingering. ] Is it your fool who sings such a broken tune?

[bruxisms]

[ Despite what she may call herself, she remained as bold as any Stark. Did his daughter fear him? If truth be told, he knew not (how was one to know such things). Regardless, he answered such to the best of his abilities. ]

She has not fled from me in the past. [ Though the two of them had never truly been able to converse either. Shireen was no doubt told not to disturb him on his rare visits to Dragonstone, and Stannis had often found himself at a loss as to what to say to a child (a girl at that). So they would sit in virtual silence, perhaps interrupted by the rare occasion that the maester would call on them, and Shireen would inform him of her studies.

Yet it was for the best.

And as to the Lady Sansa's other question... ]

Nor has she fled from Patchface. The fool has remained in house Baratheon's service since I was scarcely older than the child.

[ A reminder of the mother and father he had lost to the storms ]

[wont]

[ Truths all told, Lord Stannis struck Alayne as a father to be feared. Nothing about him was soft. Even his countenance was a collection of hard edges and disapproving lines. I would be a different daughter, indeed, Alayne thinks, were my father half as stony. But which man did she mean when she spoke the word 'father' — was it Alayne's father, the sharply smiling Lord Baelish, or was it Sansa's, the late but honorable Ned Stark? The former was a man of constant amusement, his eyes dancing with a knowing sort of delight; the later, however, had never been a cheerful man. Soft in his way, especially when it came to his daughters, but of a Northern temperament, his entire demeanor dusted with snow. ]

These worlds within worlds, [ comes Alayne's eventual but quick-whispered reply, both hands gathering the dead weight of her sullied dress, ] they are built upon a foundation of our fears. Its stonework is carved from our very doubts and— [ She glances around a corner, the torchlight dancing off the chiseled visage of a dragon. ] —our pain is but its mortar.

[ Alayne's step falters, but for only a moment. ] I saw the ghosts of Winterfell, there. In my waking dream.

Why would your daughter haunt you so? [ What grave trespass have you done? Bold as she may be, she does not dare. ]