[ at an odd hour of a recent evening, a letter (folded three times and sealed with wax) is left aboard the golden with gendry's name written in a precise and gentle script. whoever delivered it didn't know which room belonged to him, and so it's left somewhere public. the dinner table, perhaps. ]
GENDRY,
I hope my letter finds you well. Having taken counsel from a great many passengers in the Fleet, I feel resolved to write to you. Many advised that I should speak to you, but -- [ hesitation marks in the ink, like idle dots. sansa doesn't want to call herself craven (although she is) and so she abandons one sentence and starts another: ] It seems you dislike me. I don't know why. Have I been impolite? Was it because I laughed when the children were pestering you when we first met? If so, then I am sorry. I swear I won't ever laugh at you again.
Only you seemed to know me already -- and I have heard stories of how some passengers arrive here from the future, of all things, and I began to wonder if that isn't the case with you. Are you from my future? Is that why you know me but I don't know you? Until now, I didn't think there were any Westerosi who could be further along 'in time', so to speak, than myself. If you are from the future, there are things I should like to ask you.
You don't have to answer them. You don't have to answer at all. I've written below the device number which can be used to reach me privately, however, if you choose to.
[ a second hesitation, as though she might have first signed with some sort of hollow, polite endearment. but in the end her letter finishes with a simple: ]
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bullhorned) wrote2016-07-31 05:22 pm
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GENDRY,
I hope my letter finds you well. Having taken counsel from a great many passengers in the Fleet, I feel resolved to write to you. Many advised that I should speak to you, but -- [ hesitation marks in the ink, like idle dots. sansa doesn't want to call herself craven (although she is) and so she abandons one sentence and starts another: ] It seems you dislike me. I don't know why. Have I been impolite? Was it because I laughed when the children were pestering you when we first met? If so, then I am sorry. I swear I won't ever laugh at you again.
Only you seemed to know me already -- and I have heard stories of how some passengers arrive here from the future, of all things, and I began to wonder if that isn't the case with you. Are you from my future? Is that why you know me but I don't know you? Until now, I didn't think there were any Westerosi who could be further along 'in time', so to speak, than myself. If you are from the future, there are things I should like to ask you.
You don't have to answer them. You don't have to answer at all. I've written below the device number which can be used to reach me privately, however, if you choose to.
[ a second hesitation, as though she might have first signed with some sort of hollow, polite endearment. but in the end her letter finishes with a simple: ]
-- SANSA, of HOUSE STARK