#ii. we mice are quiet creatures. : thread.

[mousaey]

        another   tavern   .      perhaps   they   would   only   meet   in   drinking   establishments,   exiting   into   their   own   separate   worlds   when   they   left   the   false   darkness   and   returned   to   the   harsh   light   of   day.   the   mood   was   different   this   time,   however.   before   the   threat   they   all   faced   was   a   distant   one,   somewhere   beyond   the   wall,   beyond   the   edge   of   the   world   that   shadrich   could   conceivably   realize   within   his   own   mind.   now   they   were   facing   shadows   that   had   reached   them   suddenly   and   without   warning.   over   the   past   few   years   shadrich   had   believed   that   the   enemy   he   would   face   during   his   lifetime   was   the   uncaring   nature   of   men   with   station,   but   a   new   enemy   greater   than   that   was   appearing.   he   wasn’t   sure   what   to   make   of   it.

        he   took   the   empty   seat   across   from   asha   a   placed   two   drinks   between   them.   spending   money   for   others   was   not   a   common   habit   for   the   knight,   but   this   was   a   place   cheap   enough   that   he   felt   he   could   repay   a   debt.   shadrich   was   careful   as   he   placed   them,   a   lightness   of   hand   that   maybe   wasn’t   expected   from   the   mad   mouse,   who   to   so   many   seemed   slightly   unhinged   at   times.   yet,   simply   assessing   him   as   such   would   be   an   oversimplification   of   anger   and   determination,   and   would   do   a   disservice   to   one   who   was   often   keenly   aware   of   what   was   going   on,   even   when   it   was   being   hidden   from   him.   still,   he   knew   nothing   of   what   this   new   chaos   was.   

         ‘      good   to   see   you’re   still   breathing,      ’      he   says,   before   taking   a   sip   of   his   ale.   it   was   a   harsh   greeting,   but   a   genuine   one.   she   had   been   kind   to   him   so   far.      ‘      my   sympathy   for   any   of   your   own   that   aren’t.      ’                  @ofblackwinds​

[mousaey]

        a   thin   scar   left   behind,     the   parting   gift   of   a   young   bandit   girl   on   the   road.   however,   shadrich   often   told   the   story   differently,   preferring   not   to   mention   that   a   presumably   untrained   wild   thing   had   bested   him.   an   attempt   to   keep   his   own   ego   intact;   a   mouse   of   a   man   who   had   grown   comfortable   with   the   words   others   slung   at   him   regarding   certain   features,   but   never   his   skill.   besides,   who   would   ever   believe   otherwise?   he   was   sure   that   there   were   be   no   one   for   the   young   girl   to   tell.   at   least,   he   had   been   sure   until   he   saw   her   again,   sitting   next   to   the   king   in   the   north.   a   short   inquiry   and   he   had   found   that   she   was   not   a   rogue   bandit,   but   another   noble   to   add   to   the   list   of   those   that   had   unneededly   embarrassed   him.   a   well   maintained   bitterness   rose   inside   him,   and   his   eyes   narrowed.   he   much   prefered   her   sister,   he   decided,   and   went   on   with   his   night.

         yet,   while   dragonstone   was   large,   it   was   not   endless.   it   was   later   in   the   same   night   that   the   knight   found   him   walking   down   a   thin   corridor,   and   the   stark   princess   coming   in   the   opposite   direction.   the   tactful   thing   might   have   been   to   simply   continue,   even   nod   in   recognition,   but   shadrich   had   lost   all   wishes   to   conduct   himself   tactfully   in   the   bay   that   surrounded   this   very   castle   three   years   ago.     ‘     seems   like   you’ve   decided   to   stop   playing   bandit.   did   pretending   to   be   a   smallfolk   grow   boring,   princess   ?   ’                 @nowolfs​

[mousaey]

        shadrich   was   protective   of   his   horse,      whiskey   was   one   of   a   few   nice   things   he   had   afforded   himself   since   his   ransom   and   she   had   been   a   good   companion   —   a   tall   and   enduring   creature,   that   made   him   look   like   the   night   he   once   was.   the   whole   ordeal   at   dragonstone   had   given   him   the   need   to   retreat   to   open   air,   and   had   he   been   on   the   mainland   he   would   have   taken   to   her   and   found   himself   moving   quickly   through   open   space.   yet,   here   he   was,   back   at   the   site   of   his   downfall   with   all   those   who   had   ruined   him   in   attendance,   and   without   even   the   companionship   of   his   horse   to   rectify   things.   still,   being   outside   was   better   than   nothing,   at   least   for   a   short   while.   he   stood   at   the   top   of   the   stairs   when,   looking   down,   he   saw   what   he   thought   was   a   familiar   face.   he   hadn’t   seen   her   since   before   everything   had   begun   though,   so   he   could   be   incorrect.   still,   he   ventured   to   call   out   to   her.     ‘     alyra   mooton     ?     ’   

        when   he   descended   the   stairs,   it   became   clear   that   some   time   had   passed   for   the   two.   the   young   squire   and   the   lady   used   to   be   on   equal   footing,   despite   station,   but   now   the   knight   found   him   looking   up   to   make   eye   contact   with   the   advisor   to   the   northern   king.     ‘     aye,   it   is.   good   to   see   you.     ’                @magicksborn​

[mousaey]

       it   had   been   some   time      since   he   last   saw   the   eldest   stark   daughter;   then   little   more   a   captive,   and   now   a   princess   of   the   north.   they   had   a   shared   understanding   during   their   time   in   king’s   landing,   both   souls   trapped   by   circumstance,   though   shadrich   understood   that   her   position   was   considerably   worse   than   his   own.   for   he   had   spent   his   days   working   towards   an   end,   an   escape,   while   she   might   wonder   if   one   would   ever   come.   seeing   her   again,   he   smiles   slightly,   nodding   his   head.   the   mouse   might   be   done   with   kings,   but   she   had   seen   as   much   cruelty   at   their   hands   as   he   had,   if   not   more.     ‘     princess   sansa,    what   a    pleasure   to    see   you.     ’                  @wolfmaid​

[mousaey]

   tag  drop,  ii.     verses  and  hymns.