Please go easy on him, still getting the hang of him.

[northremembers]

Cowardice is not becoming, lady Mundane. Not of you, and certainly not of me. You cower with your tail between your legs yet in the same breath extend your hand to do that which you fear. I will not run. Nor shall I allow you.

I have rallied armies, I have seen what it is to be on the front lines of battle- yet you are afraid of this? Words upon a page, dictations of my will. Mere writings?

I will not allow it. I can, and I will lead you-

as best as I can.

Comments

[hydrophobia]

What armies?

[songsandstories]

[Another brother. It makes her heart leap in her chest as much as it cuts it into tiny pieces. The one she loved. Still she could not just say nothing, even if she must tell herself over and over again that Robb is Sansa's brother, the one betrayed by the Freys. It makes her jaw grit even tighter.

What joke is this to see him again, but even as she denies herself this happiness, it is void for the smile and joy in those Tully blues. For even if Petyr has turned her hair dull and brown, she still possesses a look of her mother about her.]

They fear what is new, your Grace. With time, nerves will steel.

[articulation]

[Annabeth opens her mouth to speak and then shuts it again. Her expression is sort of torn between bewilderment and amusement]

Sometimes words can do more damage than any battle, you know.

[northremembers]

[ The ones in his sleevies. ]

My father's bannermen. The host of the North, and all men loyal to my father- [ His voice tightens, just a fraction. ] Lord Eddard Stark. [ Now loyal to him. To the King in the North. ]

[hydrophobia]

What's a lord?

[brittlebones]

She is no coward, not with you leading her. [ because robb, above all else, will show her what it means to be of winterfell — to carry ice in your veins and steel in your hands. ]

[starkbastard]

[There's the hint of a smile on his lips. Gods, he misses you Robb]

She fears not holding up to the high standards she set for herself, regarding your will.

[He knows. His writer has been there as well.]

[playboyskipper]

Hey, fear can cut some people pretty deep, y'know.

[upheld]

Words can be of harm too, if one allows them to do so. [ she is of slight nerves, herself. Speaking out, here and now. ] It might only take some time to get used to.

[northremembers]

[ He could never forget his sister's face. What Petyr had done to her hair was not enough to hide her identity, not from him.

There's no smiles on Robb's face either; too many emotions to name fighting to surface- so he attempts to push them all down. Guilt twists his stomach in knots, and it seemed that the weight of merely seeing her was almost corporeal. Settled over his shoulders, weighing them down.

His head tips briefly. As though he has succumbed to this weight. But he forces it back up, forces himself to look at her, her blue eyes mirrored by his own. ]

You of all people have no need to address me so formally. [ But Sansa had always been proper, had always been a lady. Made for courtly life, the opposite of his sister Arya in every way. He aches to see her, just as much as he rejoices. ]

It is good steel we both need. In our own ways. [ His reply feels inadequate- yet what could he say? ]

what is this "going easy" of which you speak

[turncloak]

Doing what you're afraid of is the very definition of bravery, Stark. Whatever that may be. Don't mock the lass, not as if you've not feared a thing a time or two.

[compensates]

Why, you are a veritable font of wisdom on how the lady may behave, Stark.

all the things.

[excoriation]

As best you can, my lord.

[sarella]

[ there's a boy, fletching an arrow with narrow, dark fingers and quick eyes. ]

Is battle not a kind of cowardice?

[mydaddyissues]

I don't know, Stark. I think you could wear cowardice easier than you wear king. It would fit you better.

[defenestra]

Perhaps she ought to be scared. You as her leader means she's just as like to be ripped apart as you are.

[northremembers]

[ H a h a h a very funny Annabeth. If there is anyone who knows what weight a single word can carry, it is him. ]

Words carry what weight we give them. Were this an oath, or a political wager I could understand her misgivings. A treaty, a summons- but this for the moment, is none of those things. She is afraid of what she believes to be her limitations, and I'll not allow her to stand idle.

[beyondthewall]

And so the Young Wolf makes his grand return. You've attracted enough kneelers to build you a bridge.

[ but no malice from mance, just simple amusement. ]

[motherofwinter]

You should be a bit kinder towards your mundane. They have control over us.

[articulation]

[It takes her a couple of seconds to chew threw what he said, because seriously why are you talking like that bro.]

Maybe you don't give them very much weight, but did you consider that she does? Just because you don't think something is important doesn't mean it's not important at all.

[queensmoot]

You speak as if words and writings could never hurt anyone. Ay, they're softer than the edges of swords, but papers can still slice your hand, and utterances cut deep.

[greensight]

Mere writings? You speak as though words upon a page have never turned the tides of history. The power lies with those who wield it, not the weapon they choose.

[dornishqueen]

You could be nicer to her. Just because you've been on the front lines of battles and marshaled armies doesn't mean she has, and she's allowed to be scared the first time.

[thebaby]

Let Greywind play with her. She won't be scared of writing anymore.

[roared]

Ah, I see you've found your head. Do endeavor to keep it this time, if you would. Though, no doubt the absence of one of many kings was hardly missed.