chivalrouswench | Inbox (In the Night)

Well. ( a bit of a surprised look. ) Yeah. S'what we always do back home in Agathine, like a house-warmin' gift, you know?

A what?

[ No Gene, she doesn't know. ]

Oh, uh. It's a neighborly thing. Back home. When folks first move into a new place, everybody comes 'round with food an' such to get them started off on the right foot. Well, we don't got much here, but. You know.

( he holds out the plate for her to take with an encouraging little shrug of his shoulders. )

[ She accepts the plate, not being sure what else to do, and feels vaguely helpless. She doesn't know how to... do that thing Gene does where he seems to treat everyone as a friend. ]

Will you share it with me?

[ She gestures with the plate. It seems like the right thing to do, under the circumstances. He's sharing what he has, so she should offer to do the same. Even if what she has is what he had.

She is definitely over thinking this. ]

( that gets a bit of a laugh outta him, an' he shakes his head a bit. )

Well... I mean, that ain't the point. But yeah, I'd like that just the same.

( you're supposed to enjoy the thing, brienne!! )

[ Gods be good, how did she manage to make a fool of herself over pie?

She steps aside to let him in, walking over to the small table in her room to conceal the fact that she is blushing.

The room itself is kept very neat, not much can be gleaned about the girl who lives here by looking at it, really. ]

What kind of pie is it?

( honestly, it just fits in with what he knows of her. she's a combatant of some kind, that much he's sure, an' he keeps his room just as clear of any detritus. military uniformity, an' all. he waffles briefly in the doorway like he ain't sure if he should take his boots off or not — coraline has him trained, after all — but ultimately he leaves 'em on.

if he catches the blush he don't say a word about it, just looks away to give her a polite moment to compose herself. )

Oh, it's, ah. Buttermilk. Ain't as fancy as some other sorts, but it's what we've got the ingredients for. My Ma's recipe.

Better than anything I could make, I'm sure.

[ She knows how to feed herself if she has to, even helped the cook out when she travelled with Lady Stark, but there is a world of difference between that and making nice food.

She looks around a little and manages to find a couple of spoons that she lays out for them, feeling as she should be doing so much better. She is a high born lady, she should be good at taking care of A guest. ]

( the self-deprecation makes him frown some, mouth quirkin' down at one corner. )

It's just a matter of practice. If'n you want I can show you sometime. I spent a lotta time growin' up tendin' to three brothers, so I had a leg up on the competition, you know?

(he he makes a joke of it, albeit a soft one. that his ma died young ain't somethin' he holds near to his chest, it's just a thing that happened. lord knows he misses her every day, but at least he got closure of a better sort than most folks could ever hope for, an' his ma was with him in literal spirit right on up until he was in New York. )

I had three siblings too.

[ Said with a soul-deep sadness. Not so much for the brother and sisters she never got to know, though there is that too, but for her own inadequacy.

Her father could have had Galladon, Arianne and Alysanne. But instead there is only Brienne. The failure. ]

( gene takes up one of the offered plates, portions out the piece of pie to share an' then leans up against the wall to dig into it.

funny thing about soldierin'. you learn right quick whether or not speakin' on family is catharsis or cruelty. he tips his head to one side, considerin'. then, softly, )

Y'get on okay with them?

( she's seen cruelty somewhere. first an' easiest source of it is family. )

I never really knew them.

[ She picks up her piece of pie, feeling as if both plate and fork look absurdly small in her big hands.

She perches on the edge of her bed, as if ready to spring up at a moment's notice even as she digs into the pie. ]

My brother drowned when I was four years old. My younger sisters both died in the cradle.

( christ o'lordy. gene ain't often one for stickin' his foot in his mouth, but he can all but taste boot leather now. he ducks his head some, spears a piece of pie on his fork that he don't much feel like eatin'. )

Must'a been hard, then. Growin' up like that.

( normal folk don't see ghosts, but that don't mean they can't be aware of 'em in some small way. that sorta thing wears on a soul, because like it or not you carry death the whole of your life. )

[ It isn't Gene's fault that Brienne spoke of her siblings in an ambiguous manner, and she doesn't hold his assumption against him.

As to his next statement, at first she simply shrugs. The habit to keep her own council is so deeply ingrained that it's hard to talk even to someone who seems to genuinely want to.

But what good did her silence really bring her in life? It certainly did not save her from hurt, all it did was make her lonely.

Mother have mercy, she is tired of being lonely. ]

Where I come from, they tell stories about Ser Galladon. The perfect knight. They named my brother after him. My father lost his son and heir and only got to keep one daughter. The one so ugly he couldn't find a suitable husband for her.

[ Why didn't the sea claim her instead? ]

Inbox (In the Night)

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