[ Her smile is wane - and glad for him. He deserves it. He deserves more than a war - and she is too old for this.
Perhaps she should ask someone else, someone who wouldn't take it so dearly, someone - she doesn't know. She doesn't know anyone. No one who has as much of a stake, and none who had given them her word. ]
I am glad, I have no doubt you'll do your countrymen and family proud. [ Talking like a Queen again, she knows - decreeing matters, that airy removed way. Nothing can touch her. A veil she wears more metaphorically now than before. ] What I ask concerns perhaps that and - well, the nature of war itself. Ask the Gods for the best, but make do if fate wills to the otherwise -
[ In, in, in, sharp on her edges and she'll cut, she always will. ] We both keep many secrets I think, so consider this one is mine and I do not want to tell you more than it seems I have to, but I will do my best to answer whatever questions you have if you agree to it. [ She takes her time, picks her words, how to frame it, he will ask questions - if she has learned nothing of him, she knows he is of a clever mind. ] If I should fall here, you must make sure my body is destroyed. Burned, for it is my people's custom, and put my ashes in the river if you have the sentiment for me to do so, but you must see to it that nothing of my person is left. Down to my bones. I long ago swore no enemy of mine shall ever have my body and if I cannot save myself, I will so seek what I can, but if I cannot you must make sure they do not have my blood.
[ She lets the breath out, her free hand rising, and it fishes into the collar of her jacket, hunting for something - hooking against a chain that rattles as she brings it forward and drags up her catch: a silver phial. The size of her palm and no more. Old, so very, very old, and it bares wars of its own - nothing he would perhaps know, but tarnish old silver and on it the decorative ouroboros - a snaking eating it's own tails in loops and knots. Worn into nothing. ] But especially, this - more than anything - has to be destroyed. It can never fall into your enemies hands. It will surely be an end for your people. Do you understand me? Pour its contents out to the ground, melt the silver down and forget anything I tell you.
no subject
Perhaps she should ask someone else, someone who wouldn't take it so dearly, someone - she doesn't know. She doesn't know anyone. No one who has as much of a stake, and none who had given them her word. ]
I am glad, I have no doubt you'll do your countrymen and family proud. [ Talking like a Queen again, she knows - decreeing matters, that airy removed way. Nothing can touch her. A veil she wears more metaphorically now than before. ] What I ask concerns perhaps that and - well, the nature of war itself. Ask the Gods for the best, but make do if fate wills to the otherwise -
[ In, in, in, sharp on her edges and she'll cut, she always will. ] We both keep many secrets I think, so consider this one is mine and I do not want to tell you more than it seems I have to, but I will do my best to answer whatever questions you have if you agree to it. [ She takes her time, picks her words, how to frame it, he will ask questions - if she has learned nothing of him, she knows he is of a clever mind. ] If I should fall here, you must make sure my body is destroyed. Burned, for it is my people's custom, and put my ashes in the river if you have the sentiment for me to do so, but you must see to it that nothing of my person is left. Down to my bones. I long ago swore no enemy of mine shall ever have my body and if I cannot save myself, I will so seek what I can, but if I cannot you must make sure they do not have my blood.
[ She lets the breath out, her free hand rising, and it fishes into the collar of her jacket, hunting for something - hooking against a chain that rattles as she brings it forward and drags up her catch: a silver phial. The size of her palm and no more. Old, so very, very old, and it bares wars of its own - nothing he would perhaps know, but tarnish old silver and on it the decorative ouroboros - a snaking eating it's own tails in loops and knots. Worn into nothing. ] But especially, this - more than anything - has to be destroyed. It can never fall into your enemies hands. It will surely be an end for your people. Do you understand me? Pour its contents out to the ground, melt the silver down and forget anything I tell you.