[ It's late at night, or very early morning, and Theon Greyjoy is standing in front of a wide-open window, examining his Forge suspiciously. Close, then distant, then jostled and skewed as he gets the hang of it. ]
Strange voices.
[ And familiar ones. It hadn't taken much toying for the scared dulcet tones of Brandon Stark to filter tinny to his
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Well, I can hardly speak for each individual here, sir, but I can say that as I don't know you, I couldn't possibly be your enemy or your friend as yet.
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I must say, whether the Stranger has taken me or I have given in to madness, there are more beautiful women here than I expected. If you would like to come to a decision on the matter, I would be more than happy to help you get to know me.
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[At the moment, though, she's not really sure how to feel about him, so her expression remains a little reserved.]
I'll take your offer, I think. Perhaps you could start with your name?
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Prince Theon Greyjoy, Heir to the Iron Isles, one-time Lord of Winterfell.
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Only one-time?
It's quite a mouthful. And what should I call you out of all that?
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I'm Verity Kindle. I haven't any titles to share, unless you'd like a list of my degrees.
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But you're right. All that really means is that I've read a lot of books.
[And done a fair bit of time travel.]
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In my world that would make you a Maester. If you weren't a woman.
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[Not too surprising, really, having first-hand knowledge of some similar historical periods, so she doesn't seem at all offended by it as one might expect a modern girl to be.]
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[ He'd sat down in another conversation, straight to the floor, and now he draws his knee up to sit his chin on. ]
Do your books give you knowledge of this curious instrument?
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[ Truly, even a learned woman is a simpering creature. His cocky, friendly expression doesn't even flicker. ]
What else?
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