on odds & ends

[mockeries]

I see you haven't faltered in your intent to send me to space. Nor in your perusal of yet other places to which to send me.

— No, no, I don't mean to complain; I would not dream of being half so ... ungrateful, shall we say. It is an unbecoming trait, after all.

That said, take care. I have no intention of suffering the consequences of a misstep on your end. There is no such thing as an easy game, even when one is provided with a slate that is nearly blank. I should know.

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[tully]

[ No, not lost, not yet. Petyr Littlefinger still remains ward to Lord Hoster Tully and his daughters still hold the boy within the circlet of their slender arms (each loved or loving, in turns). That tenuous web of childhood longing and sisterly duty has yet to be broken and torn, though her name day will be soon upon her and the match made. There is part of her that knows what lies ahead, knows of the ways in which responsibility will bare its weight down upon her narrow shoulders. But even Cat, in all her cleverness, has always been somewhat blind when it comes to Petyr, has always underestimated his boldness and the places that it will take him (no one loves another as much as that).

Slowly she nods, a resolve in her eyes. ] A man may strip himself of his belongings and may cast aside his name, but there will always be his blood. And the contents of his heart.

[ Family, duty, honor. Those are the Tully words. ]

[mockeries]

[ (She still doesn't recognize him. The mask falls more firmly into place. No one loves another as much as that, she had said, and now, now he thinks she was right. That kind of love doesn't exist. And any kind of love is nothing but a weakness. So he cut it out, through the gap Brandon had left those many years ago, and he makes no exceptions, not even for her.) ]

Do you really believe that?

[ A flaw: an unnecessary question. It's rhetorical, more than not, since he knows what her answer will be. ]