"You could say that, my queen. I am sorry if I have derailed your plans."
The dragon is garbed in his normal gear, but he seems more than a bit flustered and put off, his normal suave demeanor definitely mussed. To top off his apology, he bows low to her, offering one gloved hand out to her, palm up.
"I am not certain I wish to get into it; I wanted to have a pleasant time."
"You needn't worry about the specifics of it if you don't want to get into it but I would be happy to listen. You know I never mind listening to your problems." Sansa would say that to several people in her acquaintance but since Wrathion has literally saved her life, he gets more of her ear than most.
Wrathion's lips thinned. "I probably ought to warn you, then."
But first, he lifted Sansa's hand to his lips to bestow a kiss on the back of it. Only then did he release it and straighten again.
"Were you aware that Kelson was...attempting to make things right with Aemond Targaryen?" By the tone of his voice, Sansa could definitely assume that things might...not have gone as well as they had hoped.
Sansa colors just a touch when Wrathion kisses the back of her hand and she pulls it back reluctantly when he releases it. It's a courtesy between nobles, no more and no less, but she appreciates it all the same.
"Oh by the Old Gods and the New, please tell me he didn't try to corner the man in a room again? I told him that a Targaryen of King's Landing wouldn't stand for anyone posing a threat toward them even if it was in ignorance and not carefully-crafted intent. Do tell me what happened after I get us some wine."
The fae always let Sansa pay for her things using just her voice - even the most mundane song delights them - so she sings them the first stanza of Seasons of my Love and a girl with branching flowers growing from her hair and along her arms claps her hands in delight and goes to fetch the wine. Once it's presented, Sansa asks for them to bring whatever is on special for the evening, no trouble, and she and Wrathion are alone again.
"Are we going to go through more than one bottle, do you think?"
"No, no. Aemond was not there this time, Titans be praised. He and Eoghan Cousland exchanged...words...at the market, but he left Kelson before more than that could happen, and I stepped in as he left."
Not that Wrathion hadn't heard all of it. Sometimes he wished that his senses weren't quite so keen, but then again, it was more fodder for his hoard of secrets.
He shook his head, then. "No, I'd best not have too many cups. I do not want to be in them by the end of this. Something has happened with Arman, and he asked me to come see him, so I must still do that tonight."
Not that Wrathion was about to cut dinner short to do that. Arman was patient, blessedly. He'd simply have to wait.
Sansa frowns softly at the mention of Arman needing something and she presses her lips together before taking a sip of her wine.
"Well, I shouldn't keep you if you have to talk to him," she says. "Our dinner was merely to spend time together and nothing of terribly great import. It seems you have had many things on your agenda today and I do not want to keep Arman waiting if it is important."
At the mention of Eoghan and Kelson exchanging words, she merely sighs.
"I do not understand why he must be so strident in everything he says. There are times to be disagreeable, naturally, but one should want to make friends and allies and not offend everyone he meets. I've tried to do that. There are things I stand firmly upon, of course, but otherwise why not be friendly?"
"You aren't exactly keeping me, either, Sansa. My brother will understand. And it's not as if as I have to come back here to sleep. If I sleep. It isn't as if I've never spent a night in a cave, in all my life."
He's trying to make a joke of it, but Wrathion would not be at all surprised if it fell flat. In any case, he'd still make the attempt.
"Please. You needn't concern yourself too deeply," he said. Though having someone concerned about him? That was nice. "And it isn't as if I don't want to spend a few calm hours with you before I need to gird myself again and get back out there! I suppose I ought to get used to this--it isn't as if being a diplomat and smoothing ruffled feathers is not a thing I signed myself up for, even before I arrived here."
It's just that if he wasn't here, Wrathion would be doing it elsewhere. But his expression changes slightly at Sansa's frustration at Kelson. It was something the dragon could understand--why not be friendly? But...
"Perhaps he's never really had friends? He was never really allowed to be a child, and so he is so set in ways he feels as if he has to act. He never really learned how to be himself, before he learned how to be his duty. If that makes any sense?"
Really, Wrathion understood all of that altogether too well.
"No, I understand that feeling all too well. I never had a childhood either, not after I went south, and I had no friends and no one I could trust. He seems to have had one person, an advisor, but that is hardly an agemate. This may be his first opportunity with such things," Sansa says.
"I want to help him. I do think there is good in him and good intentions but there is also a sense that he is used to forcing his way into any situation due to his magical abilities. He has been in my mind before as well but I threatened him if he looked at anything about my husband."
"It is dismaying, how similar our pasts seem to be. At least on the surface. I am certain there are differences to be found." Especially considering his species, and her gender.
Wrathion frowned darkly. "Perhaps I ought to take him for another swim, then. I told him that should he ever choose to force his way within my mind again, I would take that as the offense it was. Perhaps I should tell him that if he does that to you again, I will take it as an attack against your person, and make him regret it."
At the moment, he isn't certain how he could manage that without seriously harming Kelson, but the Deryni is definitely giving him incentive to do so. Still. Discussing things with what rationality he could muster was an important first step.
"He did at least seem to fear me enough to not slip into those memories," Sansa says. "Or respect me enough. Either way, he did only as allowed and I cannot fault him for it. Apparently I remind him of someone though he said not who."
Sansa has no idea who could be in his life quite like her but she'll accept it all the same.
"He does think that he has experienced the same...humiliation and torture I experienced because he saw into the memories of a girl who was attacked. I took offense."
"Good. I hope he continues to fear you, then. If that does not suffice, he ought to know to fear me."
Or at least fear being unceremoniously dragged off and thrown into the ocean again. This time, Wrathion might not tow him to shore. How many times were they going to have to have this discussion?
He grimaced, at least making the attempt to stifle the growl that escaped him. "He what?" The dragon shook his head.
"Simply because I saw something in another's memories does not mean that I could ever comprehend what happened to them. I would think there was a remove, at the very least--I do not expect you to understand about what happened to me, either. I do appreciate that you made the attempt, however. Nor do I blame you for being offended. I think I would have taken offense on your behalf."
"No, just as I could never understand what you went through in your egg and shortly after birth, you cannot understand what happened to me when I was married. We can attempt it, of course, and offer sympathies, but to say we understand it completely is false."
Sansa's face falls a bit. "It made what I felt seem...small, in a way. As if this one event, viewed through another's eyes, was just the same as my torture. The only people to understand that were his other victims. No one else."
Wrathion takes a step or two closer, now, resting his hands on Sansa's shoulders.
"I believe you might manage. It would not be the same, by any means, but you have dealt with much. That, and you have imagination." The dragon's words are gritted out with less enthusiasm than he should have when having a private dinner with Sansa, but the topic is...a trial.
"That is what he would want, and remember. He cannot want anything any more. You made certain of that, and you triumphed over him. He can never, ever make you feel small again. Do not let anyone aid a dead man. Let him rot and be forgotten."
Sansa nods quickly. "I know. I should keep him buried. It is difficult, sometimes, and that was a day that it was difficult. I don't think Kelson could ever understand the magnitude of it."
Sansa bites her lip. "Thank you for understanding, Wrathion. You always seem to understand, even if it is in the smallest of ways. I like to pretend that if this place could bring him here that you would roast him alive or drown him in the sea."
"Even I do not always keep buried what I should." Like his father; Wrathion can still bring Deathwing up from time to time. Especially when he knows that he should forget about the Mad Aspect; forget his name, let him stay dead in the Maelstrom where he fell. But it's difficult. It was a part of what made him who he was, now.
Wrathion's brows arch at that, and his lips curve slightly into a very small smile. "While I think the rulers might have an...issue with what I would do to him, your thoughts are not incorrect. Roasting him alive would be swift, but I could always alternate. Once would not be enough for what he did to you. Not for my tastes."
Because he could be a vengeful little shit. Really, he was, but there was not much here that evoked that tendency in him. But he breathed out, in not quite a sigh.
"I am still young, especially by the judgement of my kind. I may not always understand, Sansa. But I do trust that you will help get things I need to understand through my hard head."
"I am not certain anyone is good at making Kelson Haldane understand anything. I think I may have gotten through to him? But I am definitely not going to count on it."
The young man has certainly taxed Wrathion's patience; were he a lesser dragon, Kelson might simply be a crisp somewhere. At least for a time.
He snorted, then. "Yes, you are. And I am a diplomat, so one would think that I should be able to do the same, but I suppose it is my relative youth that has me falling short, at times."
"It is a work in progress. A project, if you will. I would say he is as dense as my sister Arya but she is all subtlety and shadows and I do not think Kelson could do anything in private if it saved his life."
Sansa shakes her head. "But we did not decide to have dinner to discuss him so I suppose I should tell you I am working on new dresses. I have decided to stop wearing black. Not always - sometimes it is appropriate - but I have decided it is no longer necessary to bind myself in mourning and austerity."
"Oh, he might be able to do something privately--for a short time, and then once it was done to his satisfaction, we would all know about it. At times, that isn't a bad thing, though." Considering Wrathion was guilty of that himself, he didn't exactly feel right mocking Kelson for it.
Sansa's next comment had him arching his brows. Not that this was a bad thing, but--he pauses. Wrathion did understand why humans chose to wear black. He was uncertain if it was something he should inquire about, though. He definitely thought that it was not her former husband she had been in mourning for, after all.
"That...I hope that is a good thing?" the dragon ventures, cautious. "To simply make a selfish comment, I think you would be positively stunning in almost any shade of green."
Sansa blushes at the compliment and the suggestion that she wear green. "Green it is, to start then. I hope I won't be making a political statement with it or anything because color can always mean something to people but I'd quite like a green dress."
She thinks for a moment. "I used to wear blue as well. I miss wearing blue. I stopped wearing it because it reminded me too much of my mother and I grew sad at the thought of her."
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undertheweight) wrote2025-05-24 10:55 am
no subject
The dragon is garbed in his normal gear, but he seems more than a bit flustered and put off, his normal suave demeanor definitely mussed. To top off his apology, he bows low to her, offering one gloved hand out to her, palm up.
"I am not certain I wish to get into it; I wanted to have a pleasant time."
no subject
"You needn't worry about the specifics of it if you don't want to get into it but I would be happy to listen. You know I never mind listening to your problems." Sansa would say that to several people in her acquaintance but since Wrathion has literally saved her life, he gets more of her ear than most.
"We can just have a nice dinner."
no subject
But first, he lifted Sansa's hand to his lips to bestow a kiss on the back of it. Only then did he release it and straighten again.
"Were you aware that Kelson was...attempting to make things right with Aemond Targaryen?" By the tone of his voice, Sansa could definitely assume that things might...not have gone as well as they had hoped.
no subject
"Oh by the Old Gods and the New, please tell me he didn't try to corner the man in a room again? I told him that a Targaryen of King's Landing wouldn't stand for anyone posing a threat toward them even if it was in ignorance and not carefully-crafted intent. Do tell me what happened after I get us some wine."
The fae always let Sansa pay for her things using just her voice - even the most mundane song delights them - so she sings them the first stanza of Seasons of my Love and a girl with branching flowers growing from her hair and along her arms claps her hands in delight and goes to fetch the wine. Once it's presented, Sansa asks for them to bring whatever is on special for the evening, no trouble, and she and Wrathion are alone again.
"Are we going to go through more than one bottle, do you think?"
no subject
Not that Wrathion hadn't heard all of it. Sometimes he wished that his senses weren't quite so keen, but then again, it was more fodder for his hoard of secrets.
He shook his head, then. "No, I'd best not have too many cups. I do not want to be in them by the end of this. Something has happened with Arman, and he asked me to come see him, so I must still do that tonight."
Not that Wrathion was about to cut dinner short to do that. Arman was patient, blessedly. He'd simply have to wait.
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"Well, I shouldn't keep you if you have to talk to him," she says. "Our dinner was merely to spend time together and nothing of terribly great import. It seems you have had many things on your agenda today and I do not want to keep Arman waiting if it is important."
At the mention of Eoghan and Kelson exchanging words, she merely sighs.
"I do not understand why he must be so strident in everything he says. There are times to be disagreeable, naturally, but one should want to make friends and allies and not offend everyone he meets. I've tried to do that. There are things I stand firmly upon, of course, but otherwise why not be friendly?"
no subject
He's trying to make a joke of it, but Wrathion would not be at all surprised if it fell flat. In any case, he'd still make the attempt.
"Please. You needn't concern yourself too deeply," he said. Though having someone concerned about him? That was nice. "And it isn't as if I don't want to spend a few calm hours with you before I need to gird myself again and get back out there! I suppose I ought to get used to this--it isn't as if being a diplomat and smoothing ruffled feathers is not a thing I signed myself up for, even before I arrived here."
It's just that if he wasn't here, Wrathion would be doing it elsewhere. But his expression changes slightly at Sansa's frustration at Kelson. It was something the dragon could understand--why not be friendly? But...
"Perhaps he's never really had friends? He was never really allowed to be a child, and so he is so set in ways he feels as if he has to act. He never really learned how to be himself, before he learned how to be his duty. If that makes any sense?"
Really, Wrathion understood all of that altogether too well.
no subject
"I want to help him. I do think there is good in him and good intentions but there is also a sense that he is used to forcing his way into any situation due to his magical abilities. He has been in my mind before as well but I threatened him if he looked at anything about my husband."
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Wrathion frowned darkly. "Perhaps I ought to take him for another swim, then. I told him that should he ever choose to force his way within my mind again, I would take that as the offense it was. Perhaps I should tell him that if he does that to you again, I will take it as an attack against your person, and make him regret it."
At the moment, he isn't certain how he could manage that without seriously harming Kelson, but the Deryni is definitely giving him incentive to do so. Still. Discussing things with what rationality he could muster was an important first step.
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Sansa has no idea who could be in his life quite like her but she'll accept it all the same.
"He does think that he has experienced the same...humiliation and torture I experienced because he saw into the memories of a girl who was attacked. I took offense."
no subject
Or at least fear being unceremoniously dragged off and thrown into the ocean again. This time, Wrathion might not tow him to shore. How many times were they going to have to have this discussion?
He grimaced, at least making the attempt to stifle the growl that escaped him. "He what?" The dragon shook his head.
"Simply because I saw something in another's memories does not mean that I could ever comprehend what happened to them. I would think there was a remove, at the very least--I do not expect you to understand about what happened to me, either. I do appreciate that you made the attempt, however. Nor do I blame you for being offended. I think I would have taken offense on your behalf."
Damn right he would have.
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Sansa's face falls a bit. "It made what I felt seem...small, in a way. As if this one event, viewed through another's eyes, was just the same as my torture. The only people to understand that were his other victims. No one else."
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"I believe you might manage. It would not be the same, by any means, but you have dealt with much. That, and you have imagination." The dragon's words are gritted out with less enthusiasm than he should have when having a private dinner with Sansa, but the topic is...a trial.
"That is what he would want, and remember. He cannot want anything any more. You made certain of that, and you triumphed over him. He can never, ever make you feel small again. Do not let anyone aid a dead man. Let him rot and be forgotten."
no subject
Sansa bites her lip. "Thank you for understanding, Wrathion. You always seem to understand, even if it is in the smallest of ways. I like to pretend that if this place could bring him here that you would roast him alive or drown him in the sea."
no subject
Wrathion's brows arch at that, and his lips curve slightly into a very small smile. "While I think the rulers might have an...issue with what I would do to him, your thoughts are not incorrect. Roasting him alive would be swift, but I could always alternate. Once would not be enough for what he did to you. Not for my tastes."
Because he could be a vengeful little shit. Really, he was, but there was not much here that evoked that tendency in him. But he breathed out, in not quite a sigh.
"I am still young, especially by the judgement of my kind. I may not always understand, Sansa. But I do trust that you will help get things I need to understand through my hard head."
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Sansa is willing to work for it because she thinks that Kelson is a good person at heart but he does require a lot of work sometimes.
"It comes with being a queen. You learn to negotiate things with as much aplomb as you are able."
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The young man has certainly taxed Wrathion's patience; were he a lesser dragon, Kelson might simply be a crisp somewhere. At least for a time.
He snorted, then. "Yes, you are. And I am a diplomat, so one would think that I should be able to do the same, but I suppose it is my relative youth that has me falling short, at times."
Even when that irritated him. It certainly did.
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Sansa shakes her head. "But we did not decide to have dinner to discuss him so I suppose I should tell you I am working on new dresses. I have decided to stop wearing black. Not always - sometimes it is appropriate - but I have decided it is no longer necessary to bind myself in mourning and austerity."
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Sansa's next comment had him arching his brows. Not that this was a bad thing, but--he pauses. Wrathion did understand why humans chose to wear black. He was uncertain if it was something he should inquire about, though. He definitely thought that it was not her former husband she had been in mourning for, after all.
"That...I hope that is a good thing?" the dragon ventures, cautious. "To simply make a selfish comment, I think you would be positively stunning in almost any shade of green."
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She thinks for a moment. "I used to wear blue as well. I miss wearing blue. I stopped wearing it because it reminded me too much of my mother and I grew sad at the thought of her."