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sansa

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Despite arrival of Spartacus in Darrow, Ilithyia felt she had found something of a place in the city that still seemed so strange in many ways. There were men -- more than one, something she would have to remedy eventually -- who were willing to pay for her every need in exchange for her company, an arrangement that worked well in her favour.

Though far from extravagant, the money paid for food and shelter, with enough leftover for other pleasures she might choose to indulge in. The finest and most difficult being that of her dress.

Over time, she had managed to find several gowns that served purpose, but in Darrow, such garments were difficult to come across and Ilithyia found herself growing frustrated with limited options. Weather would change, she had been told, would grow colder, and only now was she beginning to find things to suit her current needs. Albinius was easy to buy for, but her own wardrobe was still sorely lacking.

Upon street, she sighed, having wasted time in yet another shop with nothing to show for efforts. Yet she smiled upon seeing Sansa, then crossed the busy street, pausing only momentarily to look for cars.

"Sansa," she called, warm smile upon lips. "How are you?"

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Sansa had, in the time since her own arrival in Darrow, come across a good many people who had been kind to her a fact that still made her somewhat wary. There was nothing they could want from her here, after all, her claim meaningless in what was apparently a different world entirely from the one she had left behind. She appreciated it all the same, little of it as she'd seen in her time in King's Landing. Still, there were few people whose company she had taken to as she had Ilithyia's, someone who was about as far removed from what she knew as Sansa was herself. They may have come from places nowhere near each other, and yet there was something almost familiar about her, falling more in line with what she already knew, making Sansa feel considerably less out of place in her presence.

Hearing her name called, she returned the smile, ducking into a slight curtsy. Most of the time, she fought off the impulse, having learned quickly that it wasn't customary here, but she felt less need now. Ilithyia's presence, practically regal, seemed to call for it. "I'm alright," she answered. "And yourself?"

"As well as can be expected in such a strange place," Ilithyia answered with a smile, reaching for Sansa's hand before she ducked to press a kiss to her cheek in greeting. And yet, despite her words, she was finding footing in Darrow with greater ease than expected. There was coin, her son was well, and Ilithyia felt herself rising in power, even if the method was different than what she may have one wanted.

And then there was Spartacus. A man she was trying to ignore.

"Gratitude for helping me upon my arrival," she said. "My son was well seen into this world with your help."

"I am glad to hear it," Sansa replied, the widening of her own smile entirely genuine, something she couldn't help. Though she hardly thought she had done much — no more than anyone else would have done, certainly — it was nice, too, to think that she might have been somewhat responsible for the safe birth of Ilithyia's son. Of all the times to show up here, she thought, that one seemed especially unfortunate, and capable of causing trouble. That it had all turned out alright was the most she could have hoped for. "How have you both been faring?"

"Well, it is a bit of an... adjustment, is it not?" she asked with a smile, looking at the city around them for a moment. Albinius would never know Rome, would only know Darrow and thus never experience the disconnect she felt now. Rome was grand and lush where Darrow was built of hard rock and metal, things she had never seen before arrival here.

It was not nearly as beautiful as she wanted.

"But Albinius is well," she said. "Very strong cry."

"An adjustment," Sansa echoed, her brow arching slightly. "That seems a very kind way of putting it." For the most part, among most people, she had done what she could to downplay it — to say that, yes, it was quite a change, but she was settling in as best she could, asking questions only when absolutely necessary. With someone else who was as far displaced as she was, however, it seemed less necessary. Having that in common was actually somewhat reassuring. "I hope his health continues."

"I'm sure he will flourish and become great man he's meant to be," she says with a smile. "Even in such strange surroundings." But they would never yet be strange to Albinius, a though she'd had many times before now. He could grow up among the cars and buildings, the telephones and magazines, all things Ilithyia pretended didn't bother her, but things she finds strange all the same.

"And what is your home like?" she asks. "I fear our first meeting left little time for such questions."

It wasn't the first time Sansa had been asked that question, but as it always did, it made her pause for a moment, searching for the right words. Though she could try, no description ever seemed quite right. After all, before showing up here, it wasn't something she ever would have thought necessary to put into words. It had simply been normal. To people from Darrow, it would never seem like it. Ilithyia, though, she felt was likely to have a better understanding of it than most others she'd encountered.

"Nothing at all close to this place," she said, one corner of her mouth lifting slightly. "No roads like this, and no cars. No electricity. Something more like where you came from, I think."

"The cars are strange, are they not?" she asked, chin tilting slightly as she considered one driving by. Even words were strange to put to tongue, something she yet struggled with, though tried not to show. She was better than that, better than anything this city might throw at her.

"I thought them to be demon wagons upon first sight," she admitted, voice dropping so that no one else might hear.

"I know what you mean," Sansa replied, her own voice lowering in turn, smile turning just slightly conspiratory. "Had I not been warned about them before I saw them, I'm sure I would have thought the same thing." Unsettled and on edge as she had been already, after having been told, she'd just still been unable to make any sense of them. That hadn't changed much in the time she'd spent in Darrow, the very functionality of it seemingly impossible to her. "And there's still so much I don't understand."

"The telephone," Ilithyia said, having not once touched the device since arrival. It was, she assumed, still in the drawer she had left it in, collecting dust. "Even such words feel strange upon tongue and I have yet to work out purpose. Should someone desire my company, they should seek it out."

Ilithyia disliked the idea of being quite so available at all times. It reeked, to her, of common place in life, of subservience.

"Julius Caesar adapts well to Darrow in ways I cannot understand," she said then with a laugh. "And he is of my time."

For a moment, Sansa felt what she knew to be a sharp pang of jealousy. Though there were a great many people she was happy to be away from, ones she wouldn't have wanted to show up here, the fact remained that she was horribly alone here. It might have been nice, she thought, to have just one person from her own world and time here with her, if only so she wouldn't be facing it on her own.

She dismissed the notion quickly, however, not wanting to hold it against Ilithyia. She understood well what she was getting at, anyway. Her own phone, as she'd heard it called, remained in the room that had been waiting for her, unused. "How anyone could is beyond me," she said. "I don't know how to use the telephone at all yet. Or the... computer, I believe?"

Ilithyia had yet to touch the strange shape sitting on the desk in her quarters, choosing instead to ignore its presence. Though little explanation had been given, it was well enough for her to know she wanted nothing to do with it. She would get along in Darrow just fine without it.

"I take great comfort in knowing I am not alone in such thoughts," she said with a smile. "Though I don't wish hardship upon you, it is good, is it not, to feel less alone?" In a way, Spartacus brought same, a familiarity bred from anger and desire for vengeance, a comfort to her all the same.

"Those are precisely my thoughts on the matter as well," Sansa said, pleased to have been told as much. She certainly wouldn't have wished anything for Ilithyia except for her to adjust as easily to this place as was possible, but even so, there was a great deal of comfort in not being alone in her confusion. "Perhaps we'll be able to figure more of it out together."

"Perhaps," Ilithyia agreed, though mind was still on thoughts of Spartacus and she thought she might warn Sansa of his presence in Darrow. Their continued friendship might put Sansa in danger and while Ilithyia thought it could work out in her favour, a warning would be looked upon favourably if something were to happen.

"There is another here from my time," she said, looking over to Sansa. "A man named Spartacus."

"Oh?" asked Sansa curiously, brow lifting. There was something about the way Ilithyia mentioned him that held her attention, seemed different from the way she had talked of the other man here from her own time, and she couldn't help wondering now what that difference was. King's Landing had left her instinctively wary, but there was, she thought, no reason to truly worry until given a reason to. "And what of him?"

Though Ilithyia had been first to speak his name, she felt now at a loss for words. What truth was there to grace tongue and describe Spartacus and who he was to her? She knew so little of him herself. The things she felt for him were confused at best.

"He is..." Father of her son. Rebel slave. A monster, a god. "Dangerous. A most hated enemy of my husband. Should you speak to him, remain cautious. He will not take kindly to one whom I consider trusted friend."

It was as Sansa had feared, though she knew better than to let it show, well-practiced in keeping such things to herself. There was no way even a place like this could remain entirely safe. Grateful as she had been for her freedom, she knew better than to let herself be lulled into a false sense of security. Now, she was grateful for that. At least she wasn't too taken aback by the news Ilithyia delivered.

"Spartacus, you said his name was?" she asked, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. "I shall try my best to stay clear of him." She paused a moment, something softening with concern in her expression. "Does he wish you harm?"

Ilithyia knew so little of what Spartacus truly felt toward her, knowing what he did about her son, though she knew he had wished her dead upon more than one occasion. "He has laid hands upon me more than once," she answered, settling on words that were both vague and true. "Though I suspect distance will be kept upon new shores. He finds Darrow more unsettling than he does my presence."

"I should hope he would not try to do the same again," Sansa replied, her frown deepening. Though there was some comfort in Ilithyia's belief that this man, Spartacus, would keep his distance, it still wasn't particularly reassuring to know that he might still wish to hurt her. She'd been hurt before; no one should have had to have that follow them here. "Is the other man you spoke of aware of his presence?"

"Caesar, yes," Ilithyia answered. "He will be certain to keep harm from befalling my son." And, she assumed, herself as an extension. She was the closest Caesar had to home and though she held no expectations, knowing well enough he was married, she felt comforted by his presence all the same. He would keep Spartacus at bay, she expected, if only for Albinius.

"I am glad, then," Sansa said, "that he will be protected." As it was, Ilithyia shouldn't have had to worry about her own safety, but for her child to now be a concern as well could only have made this Spartacus' presence more unsettling. For her part, she meant to try to steer clear of him, though knew well how difficult that might be. It wasn't as if she knew anything more about him than what she had just been told. "Thank the gods you are not here alone, if there is someone who might wish to hurt you."

While Spartacus could be genuine threat and Ilithyia would use her femininity and vulnerability if she had to, she thought it might not benefit Sansa to hear false words. With a smile, she leaned in a little, tucking a curled strand of hair back from her face.

"He would do well to keep distance from me and those I would consider friend," she said. "Or he would risk meeting his own end."

It ought to have been chilling. Sansa was aware of that, on some level, and yet instead she found herself comforted by it. Whatever threat was implicit in Ilithyia's words, however she could have made that possible, it was, for once, for her sake rather than against her. When it had been a long time since she'd felt safe at all, let alone protected, there was no way for her not to appreciate that.

"I hope he keeps that distance, then," she said. She did not know the man, nor did she want him here, but she could not wish death on someone she was so unfamiliar with. "I would not want to encounter him."

"There is another here who shares his face, though not his disposition," Ilithyia said in a breezy tone, taking Sansa's arm and leading her down the sidewalk. "I will point him out to you so that you may know face of potential enemy."

The man called Delta had been kind to her, gentle, and it had left her unsettled. She wished no further interaction with him, but felt it safer to show Sansa his face before Spartacus himself.

"I would be grateful for it," Sansa replied, easily falling into step at Ilithyia's side, the small smile that curved her lips genuine, a little relieved. Though she wasn't sure she would ever get past the distrust instilled in her in King's Landing, though she wasn't sure she would want to, it was nice to think that someone here cared about her well-being, especially now that she was without her title or her claim. "I wouldn't want to cross paths with him, least of all unknowingly."