asgardeventide | o1 ♔ voice

( Alayne fiddles with the bracelet around her wrist for a moment before speaking - she's hesitant about addressing the whole of a city that she cannot see. After all, it's dangerous to be Sansa Stark these days, now that she's a traitor accused of regicide. But amongst the midst of all these voices, it's unlikely that hers will be recognized ( or so she thinks, as she does not know details of the network yet ). She is Alayne now, not Sansa. They will not know her. Lies and arbor gold, Alayne thinks. No one takes notice of a bastard girl. )

Gods of Asgard, I wanted to thank you for choosing me for such an important task. This is an honour that I did not expect. But I must think of my lord father - he worries so, and I wouldn't want him to fret. I'm only a young girl - surely someone more gallant should be chosen for a deed like this.

If it please you, I would ask that you send me back to him.

( but alayne doesn't expect much: no one gets what they want without a price. all she can do is ask. )

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[Disappointment at her mistake, at the fleeting hope she'd had, but then confusion and anger. This was Sansa, there's no way she wouldn't recognize her own sister's voice, even after this long. But then, she'd been Arry before she arrived in Asgard. Maybe Sansa had had to hide, too. That didn't make sense, though, she'd been with them, Joffrey and the Queen.]

What house did they put you in, Alayne?

[Because if she can go and find her there, talk to her just the two of them, maybe she could understand just what's going on.]

( arya would run straight up to her and demand answers if she told, alayne knew. or at least, the arya she once called sister would. this is the reason why she pauses, more than is probably seemly - because she is gathering up the courage to face those questions. )

The house of Freya.

( goddess of beauty, she'd been told. sansa might have once been flattered at that. )

[Arya nods, nerves twisting in her stomach. There's still a part of her that thinks she's wrong, that will be so embarrassed at her mistake, not to mention hurt even deeper that she'd got her hopes up like this. But still, she has to know.]

I'm coming to Freya, then.

[She's still all dirty and bruised from that morning's training, unwashed and in boys' clothes, with Needle hanging from her belt. She already saw the look of disdain that Sansa would give her. She makes it to the Freya welcome hall in no time, once again very glad of being given the power of speed.]

( the dark dye in her hair is starting to fade. perhaps not so noticeably yet, but alayne has reapplied it enough to know the signs. it was expensive, petyr had said. shipped all the way from tyrosh to complete her transformation. alayne is older now, far older since the last time arya saw her on the hill where their father was executed. it feels like an age has passed, since then.

her heart flutters in her chest and for once, alayne doesn't know what to do. she wonders if this is a good idea, if she should attempt to conceal herself from arya and robb instead. if she wants to do so. but they know - they know her voice, and nothing else. nothing about the red wedding, as the lannisters had told her it was called.

she wishes for a moment that petyr was here, because of how much she had come to rely on him for guidance. but arya is here faster than she can truly contemplate - far too fast, really. alayne fidgets with her dress, her posture, suddenly nervous about the whole ordeal. she should speak up, but finds that there are no words that come to mind. )

[She's older. Not just physically, but in the whole way she carries herself, too; it's clear that she's had to do a lot of growing up very quickly. But Arya would know her sister anywhere. She approaches nervously, not quite sure what to say. She stands opposite her and just looks up at her, images of the last time she'd seen Sansa flashing through her head, and how vulnerable she feels right now definitely shows on her face.]

I knew it was you.

( she's still not sure what to say. it's as if alayne has forgotten all of the pretty words and the groomed lies she learned under the tutelage of her father. they all sound foolish to her now, and useless in the face of arya's shock, her grief.

the images of that day on the sept of baelor will always be burned into her memories, her dreams. )

It isn't the same any more.

( her voice is insistent. she has to make her understand. she isn't sansa any more. how can she go back? )

[Arya just looks hurt and confused.]

Nothing's the same any more. But you're still Sansa. You're still my sister.

[Even if they fought like cat and dog, even if they'd never really understood each other. Arya could understand using a false identity, being careful, but looking at her now, it was as though she'd rejected being a Stark on the inside, too. She didn't understand, couldn't understand.]

( alayne can't remember the exact moment when she stopped thinking of herself as a stark of winterfell; the change had been so gradual that she had only realized it after the fact. she used to protest it so vehemently; there was a proud aspect of her that was revolted about the prospect of being a bastard - the starks were a noble family. or they used to be, when they were still a family. but back in westeros, she' d had nobody left at all.

but arya wouldn't understand. arya was stubborn, and alayne knew it. arya would have charged at the queen, sword in hand before bowing and scraping. sansa was always constantly exasperated with her bull-headed ways. but perhaps arya would have died, as well. perhaps she is already dead, from the time that alayne comes from. as sansa, she had almost accepted this as fact, even without anyone having to tell her. )

...Yes.

( she can lie one more time, can't she? alayne knows she can't go back, but she can pretend. for the sakes of arya and robb, she can lie again. she can lie to herself, too. gods know she's been doing it a lot lately. )

Nobody knew where you were. Everyone... everyone thought you were dead. I didn't have a choice. I couldn't be Sansa any more. It was too dangerous.

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