The case I have for Longclaw is a case for a guitar. A guitar is like a lute — like enough to a lute. I can’t carry a sword on my belt, but there is room enough in it for other things.
It isn’t the work of an hour to fill it with clothes. You don’t want a few days?
I’ll be at your door in an hour, then, unless you want to meet me at Red Wings. I don’t think either of us should go down to the gate alone. Not after everything that’s happened.
Do you want me to carry some of your things in this case?
[Courtesy! The case is much larger than a saddlebag, and if it was a saddlebag, he would still offer.]
I promised the man who gave me the sword that I would never lose it. I can’t leave it behind while I’m in another city. Not now.
[He doesn’t ask her where she’s stopping. He wants to know, but it isn’t his business — not really. She will tell him if she wishes.
When she arrives at Red Wings, he’s standing outside of it, leaning against the wall with a guitar case propped up next to him. No one else is around. His smile is slight but genuine, and he lifts his hand in a little wave.]
All ready?
It’s strange to set out on a journey at this time of day.
[Not, he means, at the earliest light, though it still won’t be too late when they reach their destination.]
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There are so few rats left in this world.
The less coin, the better.
[She has no job now, after all.]
I suppose that depends on how soon you will be ready to depart.
I've already gathered what belongs to me.
[She was going to leave for some time regardless of whether or not Jon had proposed it to her.]
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It isn’t the work of an hour to fill it with clothes. You don’t want a few days?
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[But it couldn't hurt, especially lately.]
A few days to sit in rubble and think?
No.
I do not want a few days.
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Do you want me to carry some of your things in this case?
[Courtesy! The case is much larger than a saddlebag, and if it was a saddlebag, he would still offer.]
I promised the man who gave me the sword that I would never lose it. I can’t leave it behind while I’m in another city. Not now.
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I have a stop to make a long the way.
[Which is a polite decline on the carrying things front. But maybe they can talk about that once they're gone from the city.]
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When she arrives at Red Wings, he’s standing outside of it, leaning against the wall with a guitar case propped up next to him. No one else is around. His smile is slight but genuine, and he lifts his hand in a little wave.]
All ready?
It’s strange to set out on a journey at this time of day.
[Not, he means, at the earliest light, though it still won’t be too late when they reach their destination.]