wholeworldoutthere | When the dawn is still dark

Entry tags:

sansa stark

When the dawn is still dark

It had been two days, as far as he could tell. Two bloody days (mostly in the figurative sense, sadly, but Klaus would not risk getting lynched by feeding off anyone on the station) and there was still no sign of their host, no hint as to why they had been brought here. More worryingly, two days and the vaccine still hadn't worn off. Klaus was still weak as a babe (or, more accurately, as a human, he imagined, but it had been too long for him to remember for certain), which explained his sudden need for caution.

If only his compulsion worked properly.

He had already explored as much of the station as he could access, but he still went for another walk that day. Perhaps calling it a stroll might be more appropriate, given the way he leisurely ambled around the station. Any more time spent alone in the suite he had appropriated and he might actually snap and decide to go on a bloody rampage of everyone that crossed his path. So he had grabbed one of these odd flashlights they'd been able to find here and there and gone on an afternoon stroll.

Yes, he had decided that this was the afternoon.

Now if only he could get his hands on the things he kept hearing noises from, he would be a marginally less bored hybrid. Sadly, he simply wasn't quick enough anymore.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sansa was not one for exploring. She had, for the first two days, some hours, and a handful of minutes sat in her rooms. She cleaned because there was nothing else; Alayne was used to some level of cleaning, even if it was not scrubbing floors or filling bathtubs. The privy had been a mystery - she understood what the toilet itself was for, but when she had been wiping the dust from the chrome decoration on the washbasin and it had sprung to life, water pouring into the basin only to vanish again.

She had also spent more time than she would like to admit sitting on the bed that was both softer and harder than anything she had ever felt simultaneously, crying. She was overwhelmed, and once she had pulled together a semblance of wits, she discovered a clean set of clothes, and had combed her hair and rebraided it. That was yesterday.

Today... today, Sansa had awoken with the scrabbling of something in the walls. For a terrified moment she had thought that it was in the room with her, and it set her curling into the smallest ball she could manage while she waited for it to go away.

It did not go away. Finding herself unable to think of anything but Lady Lysa's singer, Sansa dressed herself with fumbling fingers, the zipper catching on her hair. She grasped the flashlight that she had claimed for herself, and that is why she ended up walking down the hall, her arms wrapped about herself as the lights flickered on and off, her hand gripping the flashlight with white knuckles.

She rounded the corner and nearly walked straight into Klaus, unable to stop the helpless squeak of panic that slipped from her lips. "Oh! I'm sorry." She twisted to look behind her before staring back up at his face.

Klaus should have heard her coming. He might have, if he had been paying attention, but he was not used to having to pay attention. His hands went out instinctively towards her when they almost collided, stopping short when it turned out that they didn't.

"No harm done," he assured her easily, frowning as he looked at Alayne. She looked spooked half out of her mind, after all, and there seemed to be nothing behind her. That he could see. "Are you all right?"

"There's things. In the wall of my room, and it's dark, and- and I don't know how anything works, and I've never been in a place like this," she said in a rush, before she straightened her back, and took a deep breath. "I... just- This is... new. For me." She spoke slowly now, picking her words. It would not do for him to think that she was a gibbering simpleton who was afraid of shadows.

"How have you been? Well, I hope." As if she had met him at some sort of social event. It was ridiculous, Sansa knew, but he was close enough to being a lord, and Alayne would go out of her way to be polite. To meet all of the societal ps and qs, as to help cement her place as belonging, even though she was a bastard.

From concerned, Klaus went to amused, the latter bubbling out of him in the form of a chuckle after her question. Perhaps he shouldn't have told her that he was a lord, or close enough, but then again it was extremely amusing.

"Bored, mostly," he admitted, actually giving her an answer. "Have you not found anyone to explain how things work?" If her world was as much like the Middle Ages as he guessed, she certainly could have used the help. As for the noises... Much to his irritation, there was nothing he could do about them.

"I... have not asked," she admitted quietly. And she had not. Who would she ask? Zoe, who already had tried to explain this world to her, and Sansa could not understand? Alistair, who was just as in the dark as she had been? There was no one that she could just ask, without worry of them knowing too much about her, without wondering if they would tell her the truth.

"Although I think I have largely... somewhat... figured it out. It is so very different than home." She paused. "The machine in the wall gave me bread, yesterday." She hated how awkward she felt, how exposed in the clothes that had been provided. "Do you know what's in the walls?" Alayne tried not to look quite so hopeful, but it was difficult.

"Some sort of critter, I suppose," Klaus answered, looking off to the side when he heard a very distant noise by one of the creatures in question. He thought he'd caught a glimpse of one out of the corner of his eye earlier, but once again, he had not been quick enough to get a proper look, never mind to actually catch it.

"Nothing to worry about, or they would have attacked us already," he went on, looking back at Alayne with raised eyebrows. "Have you figured out the bathroom already?"

Oh, and there she goes again, the red in her cheeks painfully obvious with her pale skin. "Enough," she said, although it was not quite the case. "The washbasin has free-flowing water somehow, and there is a small room where water falls like a downspout." Her brows furrowed. "There is no bath, but the washbasin can make due."

She cleared her throat. "It- I am not used to this world, and- and how things are done. My father- there was a girl who would bring my bathwater, and when my mother lived, I carried it myself." She realised then that she had forgotten Alayne's mother's name. She blanched, and tried to rack her brain, even as she could not look panicked. Oh, surely she had a name. Petyr must have mentioned it.

Of course the talk of the bathroom would unsettle her, and Klaus was going to chalk her blushing and paling off to that. But it was one of the most important technological advances he could think of. Along with artificial gravity, or this stay on a space station (it still sounded ridiculous) would have been quite different.

"The waterfall room's called a shower," he told her, smiling slightly. Perhaps a little condescendingly, but not meanly. "The washbasin's a sink. And I do wish we had bathtubs." Bathtubs were so very decadent.

She would figure it out. She would. Petyr must have told her. She knew that she would, she was a smart girl. Well, smart enough. Smart enough for this. "A shower. Like rain. Well, that makes sense." She nodded once, and then licked her lips, still racking her mind, but coming up disturbingly empty. "Perhaps there are such things here, but we have just not found them yet. It's so hard to find anything in this place, with the way the lights shine." She felt almost as if whomever brought them here was toying with them, because who would set up the lights that way?

"Too many locked doors, for now," Klaus agreed, then paused. Had she even truly looked around yet? Spooked as she seemed to be, he doubted it. "Have you seen the view?"

"The view?" She shook her head, forcing herself to smile, to table her worries. Alayne Stone would have no concerns about her mother - Sansa did, but Sansa was not the one having this conversation. Sansa was lost, having run from King's Landing after her husband had killed the King. "No, I haven't. Is it- Wouldn't it just be black?"

That's what Zoe had called it. The Black. She was afraid to look, even though she did not know why. The thought of that neverending blackness - she had heard in King's Landing that at times men on the ocean would go mad from the sheer unending of it all.

"Oh, Alayne," he told her, softly amused, and shook his head. "Come," he entreated, nodding in the direction of the nearest observation point. "You won't regret it. Probably," he added honestly, because it might make her panic, but it was a surefire way to find out whether she could revel in the beauty of the world rather than run away scared from it.

"Of course," she said without thinking, because why would Alayne say no? "It is not just black, then?" She cleared her throat, speaking quietly. "Zoe said that ships somehow flew in the sky, in the black - but what horrid world must she be from, that the sky itself is black?" She followed him, her brows furrowed together. "And she could not speak of how they stayed that way. They are no birds. She said they destroyed their world." It was clear that Sansa thought that Zoe came from some sort of hellish nightmare.

"I haven't talked to that one yet," Klaus told her, so that she knew that he had no idea what world this Zoe might be from. "But even in my world, ships flew in the sky - and in space, if that's what she means by the black. Up there with the stars and the moon," he concluded with a bright smile, walking leisurely along the corridor. The first man on the moon had been one other good thing about the sixties; there were not many.

"But that's not black, not really." She looked over at him, wishing - oh, it was a girlish wish, one that Sansa had far outgrown. If she could have one of the gowns that she had gotten in King's Landing, had someone to dress her hair - her hair, not the mousy brown that Alayne had since birth - that she'd met him at somewhere appropriate... Everything would have changed. He would be sweet, perhaps, in a way that Joffrey had played at and she had thought that Ser Loras had. He would have been sweet the way that Tyrion had imagined that he was, and that Petyr played at with Lady Lysa.

She looked down at the floor as she followed him, pulling herself together, away from that sort of vulnerability. "It is the stars and the moon and clouds, and the birds in the sky."

"Oh, no, it isn't black at all," Klaus agreed. The smile lingering on his lips had more to do with what they were discussing than who he was discussing it with, although this was not the sort of conversation he would have with everyone, either. "Black sounds much too dreary for something so bright."

There, around the corner and into the observation area. The windows almost covered the full wall, and it was quite a sight indeed. Just the same sky as there was on Earth, but watching it from somewhere else... They did say that beauty was in the eye of the beholder. That view, that experience were almost worth getting kidnapped over.

"Less dreary, more...f..." Sansa trailed off as they rounded the corner, and she made a soft sound as she stepped forward, barely avoiding tripping down the stairs as she walked to the recessed floor and the wall of windows. Her eyes were wide as she stared out at the wonder of space, and she felt as if her breath had been stolen from her - as if the sheer beauty of it had reached into her chest with both hands and taken everything that made her who she was. Everything that made her Sansa Stark, unconcerned with Alayne Stone, for it knew that it was just a shell.

It was her father carrying her to show her the first flowers when the winter had ended. It was Robb standing up for her when Theon had teased her until she cried. It was her mother braiding her hair and telling her how beautiful she was, it was Ser Loras Tyrell handing her the rose. It was the spiraling hope that Joffrey Baratheon would save her father's life, before horror her life became after that moment.

She moved closer to the window, her fingers touching the smooth glass as she stared, remembering after a moment to pull in a sudden breath, realising that she had forgotten to do so, and she realised in that moment that she was crying.

She looked down abruptly, fingertips scrubbing at her cheeks, her words thick. "I'm sorry, I- I never thought-" And Sansa had no words.

Klaus let her walk down the steps and towards the window on her own, following slowly a few feet behind her. It was something best experienced on one's own, at first; all beauty was. Invading that moment was the greatest breach of privacy he could imagine.

It was only when he joined her by the window, a minute later, that he saw that tears had run down her cheeks. Her breathing hadn't changed, and he had been frustratingly unable to smell the salt of her tears. If he had, he would have stayed back and left her a moment longer.

He did not move away at her sudden embarrassment, however, and only smiled gently, and nodded, before looking back at the view. "It's everything but black."

That was what she had seen. That was why she was crying. It was everything but black, and he thought that she might understand.

"It goes on forever." Her speech was different - cleaner, the vowels rounder. Her face crumpled, and she held her fingers to her lips, taking a deep breath, then another. "Why can't any of them-" She swallowed a breath, and then even with tears in her eyes and being all blotchy and red, she looked up at him to thank him. Every movement polite, every word chosen carefully, she continued. "This is more beautiful than I could ever have dreamed. Thank you."

She wished they could see this - that her father could stare out at the universe and see that there was so much more than the world they did inhabit, that their sky was nothing compared to this. He had died for what? For honor? He had died because of her, she had realised sometime later. She didn't even remember when - after the mob, most likely, but before she was Alayne, she realised that Eddard Stark had died because of a multitude of things, but the sword had fallen because of her.

And he would never see this.

She did not know how, and did not know why she began to weep, why she was crying for Eddard and Robb and Catelyn and Bran and Rickon; for Ser Dontos and Ser Loras and for Arya and more than anything in that moment, for Sansa Stark. For the girl who would never exist again, the way she had.

She turned away from him, hugging herself, her head bent as she tried to stop herself, but she could not, and could not speak to apologize.

"You're welcome," he told her, with a half-smile, but a genuine one, not one of the ones he seemed to constantly wear because it was the best way to go through (un)life. It quickly turned into a frown when her tears intensified until Alayne was actually weeping, and turning away from him.

Weeping humans had never been his area of expertise, and they were certainly not an area of expertise he was looking to acquire. He moved back to the wider steps that served as seats, giving her space while not leaving her there alone.

He did feel somewhat responsible for her, now that he had brought her here, and he would see her back to her quarters if he had a choice in the matter. He usually did.

In the meantime, he watched her, and wished again that his compulsion worked. Her tears would already have been gone, and maybe he would try it anyway, if she did not stop soon.

She wiped her face with her sleeve, and then turned to see if he was there, and- Oh, Gods. He was gone. She sniffled, and stared out at the endless sea of space, pulling in breath after breath, her face hot. Her eyes still leaked tears, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking- Arya would stare, then probably break something. Or draw on the windows. Bran would stay, forever, just watching the stars. Her mother and father would have stood together, and Robb- Oh, how her heart ached for her brother - would have been torn between the window and his family.

She realised, then, that Jon would have been back by the door, staring out at the reaches of space all the same. She turned, and was obviously surprised when she realised Klaus was still there - standing up straighter, trying to wipe at her eyes, finding her voice. "I'm so- forgive me, my lord, I was- I was overwhelmed, and- My family--" It was the first time that 'Alayne' had not spoken of her father alone, and she could have kicked herself. "I mean, my father. He would have loved this." When the truth was, she could not see Petyr Baelish staring out at this unflinching. She could not see him able to stare into the universe and have it stare back. "You do not have to stay." She did not particularly want him to go, but it was the only thing she could say.

"You keep calling me my lord, I might just go," Klaus assured her, not moving from his seated position nearer the door. It was said on that particular tone of his that encouraged people to take his words as a joke despite the truth there was to them.

He gestured at the window behind her. "Take your time."

"No, I am-" She lifted her chin. "Thank you for bringing me here." The tears had thankfully stopped, and she hoped they would not start again. Not while she was in public. "You must have other things-" Actually no. This place - this place was full of nothing but time to think and wish you were home.

"Did you expect this? Is this... what it would be on your world?" She moved closer, and it was clear from how she walked that she'd a lifetime of gowns and had that careful step when going up stairs that you needed as to not end up promptly on your face.

It was striking, in fact, that Alayne did not belong in pants. But it was to be expected from the daughter of a lord, even a bastard, as long as he had taken her in, and it did not register any more with Klaus than her earlier family-father correction. Bastards always had complicated relations to their family.

He would know.

"What, the stars?" he asked, glancing back at the window before looking at her again. "Perspective changes everything."

"Is it not so beautiful?" She turned to look out the window for another moment, then back to him. "It is- There is nothing I have seen that is..." She could not find the words, no matter how she tried. "What I meant, is did you- Am I alone, in thinking that steals your heart away?"

She laughed, then, her voice a bit hoarse from crying. "I sound like a fool, don't I. Or a girl who has learned nothing of the world." That world was gone, and she knew it fair well - whether she returned to Westeros, or no.

"It is real? It is not a painting, or... or some sort of magic?" She resisted the urge to look again, instead just waiting earnestly.

"It is real," Klaus confirmed, looking up at her with a half-smile when she reached the step he was on. "Very probably, anyway."

Arms propped on his thighs, he rubbed his thumb along his jawline, letting his gaze drift back to the window. A picture window; the phrase had never been more apt. "I wouldn't know about my heart, but it certainly stole my breath away, when I first saw it."

After a moment, Sansa perched herself next to him, her hands folded in her lap. "I feel like someone took my heart and stole it away, and now it's lost out there." She stared out at the stars, shaking her head. "And I do not think I will get it back - I thought it was gone in the first place." She looks down at her fingers, her brows furrowing.

She glanced over at him. "Do you think we will go home? That we will serve whatever purpose we have here, and then we'll go home again?"

"I think - I hope," he corrected himself, "that we'll find out soon."

He was not overly worried, he had time. He was mostly mildly annoyed at being stuck here, in this dusty place. The observation rooms had taken some of the edge off of that irritation, but it still remained, addled by his weakened state and the knowledge that Rebekah might think that he had run out on her.

He could see the look on her face when he told her that no, he had in fact been abducted and transported to a space station.

"And I know that there is no point worrying over it," he added. "Take one day at a time, Alayne. It is too soon to tell either way."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When the dawn is still dark

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject