(first gallop) | accidental video + action

[wolfwild]

...Benjen? [ when lyanna stark pushes herself into a sitting position a few twists and turns away from the maze's centre, her instinct is to call for one of her brothers: the youngest, first, and with a lilt of concern. with a groan, she brushes detritus off her palms and straightens her skirts (simple; in the northern style). and she tries to figure out why she might have been preparing her palfrey to ride in one moment, and sitting in dirt the next.

not that she minded the dirt -- not really. but she did mind the conspicuous absence of her kin. panic mounts: ] Brandon? Ned?

[ she scrambles to her feet and finds the strange small brick only a few feet away. lyanna picks it up and can now be seen peering suspiciously at its every angle. ] You're a funny thing. [ she mutters, tapping it gently and fingering (but not pressing) the buttons. but then she holds it loosely in her fist and raises her voice. ] By all the named gods and the unnamed gods -- Brandon Stark! If this is some trick or a mummer's game, I will have your hide. And without it, you can hardly hope to woo any pretty --

[ she stops abruptly because the brick chirrups like some odd precise bird. surprise catches the breath in her throat and she's forced to ask -- staring straight at the device: ] ...Are you alive, little brick?

[ grab her attention on the funny little brick-bird or else find her wandering the maze and the gardens. ]

Comments

[wolfwild]

And what makes you a qualified escort of any kind, my lord?

[ he speaks gently enough; best she err on the side of caution. ]

[dashingdignity]

Merely some familiarity with the area. I am Porthos, of his Majesty's Musketeers, my Lady, and merely wish to offer assistance.

[wolfwild]

[ ah! this does sound promising -- but before she can be certain, she must ask: ] What's a musketeer?

[dashingdignity]

We are soldiers of the King, my Lady, sent to do his bidding as he and France needs.

[He's proud to be one and it rings in his voice.]

[wolfwild]

[ a soldier! king's own. but not, it seems, the king of westeros. some other land: france. but she knows she should call knights by their proper words: ] My apologies, ser, for neglecting your title. I did not know.

[dashingdignity]

You have not offended me, My Lady. I make no claim to title other than that of Musketeer.

[wolfwild]

If I understand the placement correctly -- [ she leans over the device, frowning ] -- your Musketeers are like our Kingsguard. And Kingsguard are always called ser. So, Ser Porthos, I hope I know you for who you are.

My name is Lyanna Stark. Your offer is kind but... [ a sigh. ] I'd rather my brothers as escorts.

[dashingdignity]

That sounds most correct My Lady Lyanna.

[His look is understanding.]

I would as well, my Lady, for your comfort if nothing else. Have they not spoken yet?

[wolfwild]

House Stark -- as I know it -- has only me to represent its proud blood. Unless they trick me still and are waiting to reveal themselves, laughing. [ ... ] Brothers are such burdens.

[dashingdignity]

I doubt they would do such here, my Lady. There are dangers seen and unseen here that I have yet to experience but my friends have warned me about.

[wolfwild]

...Dangers?

[ bless her boots, but she sounds more curious than concerned. ]

[dashingdignity]

Not only are we permanent 'guests' of an unseen host or hostess, but occasionally things happen outside of our control, forcing us to take part in someone's ill-conceived idea of fun.

[He smiles.]

The last was to sing randomly whether we were wont to or not.

[wolfwild]

It sounds alarmingly like a tourney I've just left. Was just trying to leave. Saddling up, really, when I found myself here instead. [ but that's not the point. ] Are you all at least competent singers?

[dashingdignity]

Not in the slightest, my Lady. Unfortunately.

[He'd winced at a few and he's not that good by any stretch of the imagination.]

[wolfwild]

How dreadful. Stranded in a land showing itself to be increasingly less like home with every revelation -- and I can't even count on decent entertainment.

[ superficial? certainly. but only so much as needed to hide the continuous undercurrent of concern. ]

[dashingdignity]

There is little to be done in the way of entertainment, though if you can read, the library is quite extensive.

[wolfwild]

[ extensively boring, she's certain. but she keeps that verdict to herself. ]

I can read. [ then -- after a pause. ] Are there stables?

[dashingdignity]

[Wait until she finds the books pertaining to Westeros...]

there are not, my lady and the two horses present belong to a man who should never be around a genteel lady as yourself.

[wolfwild]

Only two. [ this is getting drearier and drearier. except that lyanna might brave the very slums of king's landing itself if it meant spending time with some horses. ] Please tell me one's a filly and the poor beleaguered people of this kingdom can hope for foals in time.

[dashingdignity]

I do not know, admittedly. The man who owns them is not a friend to me and mine and I avoid him at all costs.

[wolfwild]

[ she wants to ask. indeed, she does want to ask rather a lot. but she can't bring herself to discuss such an enmity over such means. so she frowns some more and taps the flat glass surface. ]

And so what diversions are left to you, Ser Porthos? [ maybe he reads. after all, he'd brought up the books. ]

[dashingdignity]

Reading, swordplay, exploration. I manage to fill my days, my Lady. Are you an accomplished rider?

[wolfwild]

I do love it. [ she answers in this roundabout way -- deciding she ought to preserve a shred of modesty before explaining that she might as well be half a horse herself. ] Do you ride, ser?

[dashingdignity]

Not much. I lived in a congested city. It was often easier to walk. I have been known to ride, though.

[wolfwild]

...I've never seen a city. Not from the inside. Unless Barrowtown passes, which I rather doubt it does. They say White Harbour is impressive but I've only seen it from afar.