The Random Thread Generator Chose It And Who Am I To Argue - Blog Posts

dacey shook her head. "she's a westerner, i think," she offered, knowing that this was not helpful information. they were in the west. of course there would be westerners here. it did not help to narrow down her identity. she pressed her hand to her mouth to conceal her own laughter. though aleksander was otherwise occupied, not there to see dacey's amusement at her own expense, it still felt unkind to laugh at brandon's teasing of him. "i don't know. he has his moments, and he's wearing my mask. maybe that's what she finds so funny," she pointed out. he had swapped with her without complaint, despite looking a little ridiculous as a result.

from polite distance to the heavier tone of their last meeting, there was a levity to the conversation that had not formerly existed between dacey and brandon. and perhaps it had with owen, with cassana, but it was a side to him she had never known, and a side to her she rarely showed, save to those who knew her best. she was comfortable in a way that she was with the few she called friends - were they friends?

"i won't look quite so out of place, then." here was humour she was more comfortable with, jabs at her own expense rather than at the expense of aleksander karstark. though she was no great dancer, she still bore a small semblance of hope, however, that she had a little more grace than to look like a flopping fish.

he led her to the centre of the floor, and she let him, appreciated him for that, even. in the middle of the crowd, it was easier for the pair of them to be lost in it. one hand in his, the other on his shoulder, she was not sure if she was dancing as much as moving, allowing brandon and the natural jostling of the crowd to guide her. and for a moment, dacey forgot everything that she was attempting to carry on her shoulders, forgot the troubles waiting for her on her return to the north.

until he mentioned the true north. a small frown appeared on her face, and she tensed a little, but she nodded. "i have heard of it," her speech was more intentional, now, laced with a sort of weariness. brandon had become a rallying point for those who called themselves the true north, but dacey did not know how closely affiliated he truly was with them and what they believed in. "but i don't know what to make of it." she looked at him then, but said nothing more, a silent invitation for him to add his own perspective, if he wished to.

♞

"any idea who the redhead lass is?" brandon asked, his voice rougher around the edges - there was nothing that genuinely worried him regarding the sight, as at the end of the day, it was not something serious. "gods know why she's laughin' so much, he ain't that funny." his words were taunting, a keen glimpse into the reality of the nature of the brotherly relationship. if any were the centre of brandon's world, it was aleksander - none other.

what brandon saw was a man having some fun, with what appeared to be a lass from the riverlands down south to them; so long as he was careful and did not leave his bastards in her, he cared not for what or who aleksander spent his time with. such was the reality of being a man; or being men, with no sister whose honour they would need to defend themselves.

intentions that remained as pure as the winter sun itself seemed to lead and guide brandon karstark through his decisions this night within the land of the west, and whilst he felt a great deal of concern and issue and even guilt for the laughter that rung through the halls, he also found himself on high alert - no doubt because of the tensions that grew between northmen and westermen during the dance. they were too different, on opposites sides of two different worlds: they had not needed to share the same space, and yet, here they were.

"not sure if i'd call this southern jumpin' dancing." he spoke, briefly meeting her gaze with a warm smile crossing his features. "look like fishes outta water, they do."

still, he did not wish to bring the mood of the princess down. it had been made obvious that she was more publicly visible than she had ever been before, picking everything up and trying to lace it together. if any deserved respite from the worry and from the concern, it was her. when she greeted him with her usual small hello, he merely nodded his head in her direction, as though to accept her greeting before leading her onto the dance floor. it was the least he could do considering aleksander's treachery.

his instinct was go in the middle of the dance floor, so they were not on the edges and clearly watched; he did not know why he did not want to be watched. still, he maintained her gaze as he put his hand upon her waist, as though to give her a heads up he would be doing that - and then they found themselves swept into the dancing, becoming a whirling mess. perhaps they weren't doing the correct dance moves. "you've heard of it, haven't you? this true north." he spoke as they danced.